#hearing them cry each other’s name was like a dagger in my chest but i also really loved it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

targayrenss · 9 months

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Green Skin (II) -Daemon Targaryen

pairing:Daemon Targaryen × Targaryen Oc

Content:Incest, Age-Gap,Angst

•••

Rhaenyra was leaving King's Landing, Alys hadn't stopped crying since she heard the news.

Rhaenyra and her children were her only company lately, Aegon was busy drinking all day, Helaena was obsessed with a new bug in her collection and didn't leave her chambers, Aemond is always studying, and Daren isn't even on landing! King !.

"Why does mother have to go? I don't want Nyra to leave.

Alicent braided her daughter's hair while he comforted her.

—rhaenyra decided, your father and I can't do anything, my love

for a moment only sobs were heard until they faded away.

Do you think I'll be a good mother?

The question took Alice by surprise.

"Why do you ask that, Alyss?"

—I don't know, I think that being a mother is something horribly beautiful, I would like to have many children, it would be nice to braid many hairs

oh poor alys, if she only knew—yeah, that would be nice.

The news of the death of laena velaryon, and the fire where harwin strong nearly died came at the same time.

alys never got the chance to meet laena, but hearing that the poor woman died because she couldn't bring her baby into her world made him want to die with her.

She couldn't stop thinking about how horrible her death was, having to ask your dragon to burn you because the son you expected so much will never come out of you.

poor vhagar, alys vowed never to do such a thing to her dragon, abraxas.

Dressed in a dress similar to her mother's, she was standing next to her father, she knew that even having her next to her he would never pay attention to her.

At the end of the ceremony, she decided to look for rhaenyra.

"Nyra! I'm sorry for your loss and that of your uncle." The sisters hugged each other.

"Thank you, sweet child." Rhaenyra eyed the dress her half-sister was wearing with disgust.

"Could you help me look for Luke? I can't find him." Alys nodded and went looking for her nephew.

It was getting dark and she still hadn't found Luke, when she got to the beach she could see a figure dressed completely in black, with short silver hair, her uncle, her daemon.

"Uncle! I should go back to the castle, it's almost night." The man turned to see her and smiled.

"Alysanne, right?" the redhead nodded.

—I'm very sorry for your loss uncle, I hope the gods take care of laena

Daemon shifted his gaze to the young woman's chest, a star necklace at her neckline.

"Do you want to walk with me, niece?"

Alysanne wanted to refuse, she had to go back to the castle but the look that her uncle gave her made her accept.

Alys didn't know when, how, or why, but she had her uncle on top of her, inside of her.

listening to how her uncle moaned her name, alys had never heard a man moan, she thought that wonderful noise was a gift from the gods.

Daemon kissed her with such passion, he caressed her hair lovingly.

"I'll take you away, I'll make you my wife and you'll have my children." Her words moved her but at the same time scared her.

What would her mother think? She has just lost her maiden to her father's brother, a man who has two daughters close to her age.

when they were getting dressed a gentleman came looking for them.

Alys ran in looking for her younger brother with daemon trailing behind her.

“Aemond!” Alys knelt down to her level, “who did this to you?

Her screams were unleashed once more, Alys felt someone grab her tightly by her wrist.

"Where were you? Your brother lost an eye and you weren't here!" Alicent's voice was heard throughout the room, causing everyone to look at the princess and then at the rogue prince.

I couldn't sleep so I went for a walk on the beach.

Apparently Rhaenyra had given the same excuse when she entered with Sir Harwin Strong.

When Alicent lunged at Rhaenyra with a dagger in her hand, Daemon saw the perfect opportunity and took Alys by the hand, they ran off.

Running away from everything, from everyone.

#Daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x targaryen oc #Daemon targaryen x reader #targaryen oc #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon

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auroracalisto · 1 year

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more than blood

platonic!dagger squad x reader, hinted!bob x reader, 1.3k words tw: gn!reader, dad issues, kinda absent unnamed dad, so like a deadbeat dad, reader got anxiety for sure, no use of y/n, no actual romance but bob and reader definitely crushin' on each other a/n: reader's callsign: venus. also, i got really upset today over something my dad did. i wrote this in retaliation and while it's not sad at all, i cried multiple times. i hope everyone else had a better evening than i did.

It should have been easy. Go in, see your dad, and then leave. That's all you needed to do. It should have been so simple.

But standing there, the glowing sun high in the sky, preparing to set within the next couple of hours, you knew you couldn't do it. Not now. Not when you felt like your heart was about to burst out of your chest due to the anxiety you felt feasting upon everything you were—everything you had worked hard on.

What would he say? How would he act? Surely, just the same as the last time you had talked to him (and it had been months beforehand, over a simple text message, too; nothing crazy, and yet the entire time, you had felt as if you were walking on eggshells).

You took in a deep breath, your eyes falling shut. He always made you feel this way. It never failed, even if you were just thinking about the man you called your father.

He didn't even know you were outside, so it would be fine—it's not like he was expecting you. Penny wouldn't say anything if you decided not to go in (and you were grateful that she recognized the man and warned you far before you decided to leave the base and venture out for the evening).

Hell, you didn't even know why he was in California. Normally, he stayed far away from the place you made a home in. He didn't contact you. He only reached out every now and then to make it known that he loved you and that he wished he saw you more... and then continue to go on in life without doing as he said.

As you stood there, staring up at the Hard Deck, bottom lip stuck between your teeth, a strong hand placed itself on your shoulder.

Your eyes widened as you looked back, seeing Bob. Just behind him came the Dagger Squad, ready for a night of drinking and pool.

Bob tilted his head, frowning deeply.

He knew you better than you knew yourself, and at times, you wondered how he knew you so well.

"Are you okay?" he asked. His voice was low—keeping the others attention glued to whatever the conversation had been. He recalled something about Hangman and darts, but that's all he had gotten to hear before he zoned out, staring at you.

You forced a smile, placing a hand over his. You squeezed his hand, gently pushing it off your shoulder before shaking your head.

"No, uh, I think I'm gonna head back," you said.

"Ohh, Venus!" Phoenix rushed up, throwing an arm over your shoulders. "I didn't know you were meeting with us. Roo said you were busy, so I just assumed you weren't coming. I would have waited for you after training had I known."

"Uh," you hesitated. You averted your gaze, a frown forming quickly. "No, I wasn't planning on meeting with you guys. I was busy."

"Oh," Phoenix said, gently squeezing your shoulders. "What's up? You okay?"

She knew you well, too. Guess that's what happened when you spent almost every waking minute with them.

"Yeah. I need to go."

"Woah," Tasha gently grabbed ahold of your hand before you could walk away. "Hey, talk to me. What's wrong? Did someone try to pull some shit? Do I need to kick Bagman?"

"What did I do?" the man in question asked as he came up, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, worry momentarily flashing across his face at the sight of you. Had he known better, he would have thought you were about to cry. But he just chalked up your discomfort to the Californian heat. He said nothing about it, watching you curiously.

"I really don't want to talk about it," you said, looking back at your friend.

She blinked slowly, your name leaving her lips. She never called you by your real name, only your call sign (unless, of course, she was pissed—or drunk, which wasn't often). She searched your face, a faint smile forming on her lips.

"How about we go down to the beach? We could play volleyball or something. Get your mind off of whatever it is. I'm sure the water feels amazing this time of day."

You paused for a moment. A game really could get your mind off of things. And you could avoid your dad entirely—he'd leave at some point, and then you could go to the bar with your friends; something you hadn't planned on earlier, but you knew you could use it.

You began to smile. "You'd do that for me?"

Her smile only grew in response. "I could go for a couple rounds."

You glanced at Bob, the man who had fallen for over the past couple of weeks (not that he knew—of course, everyone in the Dagger Squad had already figured it out; they were just waiting for the two of you to realize you shared the same feelings).

"I'll come," Bob said, beginning to grin.

"What's going on?" Payback asked, voice loud, slinging an arm over Bob's shoulders as he grinned down at you and Phoenix.

"We're gonna hold off on the bar for a little bit, go down to the beach. How does volleyball sound?"

"Hell yeah!" Payback said, grinning. "Anyone got a ball?"

"Is the sky blue?" Hangman said, scoffing. His arms dramatically crossed over his chest. "Yeah, Penny has one inside. I'll go get it. Meet you guys down there?"

"Okay, asshole, so you don't have a ball," Payback said, rolling his eyes. "I'm gonna pretend I didn't just hear that."

Hangman scoffed, unable to hide his smile from forming.

As Payback went and told the rest the momentary change of plans, Phoenix tagged along with Hangman, leaving you and Bob alone.

He tilted his head as he watched you, concern written on his features.

The thought of your dad quickly diminished as Bob began to smile—damn him and his handsome face.

"Wanna be on the same team?" he asked.

"Thought you'd never ask," you said, grinning back.

These people—this mismatched group of pilots had become more of a family to you in such a short time than your dad had ever been. And for once, though you had imagined what it would be like for some time, the thought was welcomed. It filled that hole that had once been ripped out by the man sitting inside of the bar, unaware that his offspring stood just beyond those walls, avoiding him entirely.

Bob reached forward, taking ahold of your hand. Your eyes widened, but you didn't stop him, your smile only growing as he pulled you towards the sandy beach that awaited the soon-to-be disastrous game of volleyball.

You had often heard people (and television shows) say that family was more than your blood. It might have taken you quite some time to realize that, but you were glad that now, you understood exactly where they were coming from.

Family did not have to be your blood; it didn't have to end there, either.

Bob looked back at you as he slipped his shoes off, not wanting sand digging against his skin.

"You ready to show them who's the best?"

You grinned, nudging him with your elbow. "Who, you?"

His eyes widened a bit, a blush coating his cheeks. He'd just chalk it up to the heat, but he knew it was because of the way you were looking at him.

"Nah, darlin', I meant you," he said, smiling even more. "I bet you could beat all of them, all by yourself."

You rolled your eyes, laughing. "I guarantee you're wrong," you said, holding your shoes in one hand.

Phoenix came running up behind you, the ball in between her hands. She shouted at the two of you to hurry up.

Hangman came running after her, shouting: "Are you fucking serious?!"

You and Bob shared a haphazard glance, grins evident on both of your faces. He grabbed your hand once more, tugging you towards the volleyball court where your friends already stood, ready to play until the sun began to set, skin toasted and bellies ready for booze.

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tavvattales · 2 years

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can I req hcs for scaramouche xiao and kazuha with a gn reader that is quite lonely a lot of the time? their friends are always disinterested in what they have to say and exclude them from hang outs or conversations. how would they react if their friends did that to reader while they were present?

thank u for your consideration ^^ your writing is lovely

Waaahh~, of course, you can, sweetie pie 🥰😘 Here you are; I hope it's to your liking.

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Friends. . .or not?

GENSHIN IMPACT Character x GN!Reader Headcanons

Characters: Scaramouche, Xiao, Kazuha(all separate)

Pairings: Scaramouche x GN!Reader, Xiao x GN!Reader, Kazuha x GN!Reader

Warnings: Talk of feeling isolated, friends being crummy and mean, mild swearing(Scaramouche)

Click below for more~

Scaramouche

He's pissed.

"Why do you put up with this shit?"

"Because they're my friends!" you retort weakly, feeling absolutely miserable, but Scaramouche sees right through your facade. Knowing the full extent of your suffering, he glares daggers at your friends, chatting away happily, completely excluding you.

"You're ridiculous if you consider them your friends."

"Don't say that. ." you say with anguish, not wanting to hear the truth just yet, but knowing that it can't be helped, especially coming from Scaramouche. You bring your knees closer to your chest as you weep, hoping maybe one day, your friends would include you.

"You don't need them; you have me."

Scaramouche says softly, extending his hand towards you in acceptance, pulling you to your feet. He hated seeing you this way, especially someone as sweet as you. Those "friends" didn't deserve you, for you are far too precious.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Xiao

He's uncomfortable.

"Why do you hang out with these people?"

"Because they're my friends," you say, beaming a smile towards him and extending your arms to stretch as your friends chat happily without you, but Xiao gave them a knowing stare, folding his arms across his chest. He can see what they're doing to you and it makes his skin crawl.

"This makes me uncomfortable."

He says nonchalantly, offering you his hand, "Come with me and don't worry about them," Xiao continues, pulling you along, glaring at your group of friends as the two of you walk past. He intertwines his fingers with yours and lovingly strokes your hand with his thumb, knowing what this was doing to you. You can't help but cry.

"You can always count on me, just call my name, and I'll come running."

With his kind words you rush into his arms and sob, "I just don't understand what I'm doing wrong. ." you say, but Xiao simply puts a hand on your head, "It's not you, Y/N. .trust me, it's not you," he whispers, stroking the back of your head in comfort. Today he made a vow for you.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Kazuha

He's saddened.

"I don't like how they're treating you."

"What do you mean?" you ask, not totally oblivious to what's happening around you. Kazuha simply sighs, "Your friends aren't treating you as they're supposed to. ." not wanting to hear the harsh reality tears begin to well up in the corner of your eyes as Kazuha swiftly begins to wipe them away.

"Friends are supposed to uplift each other, no?"

He asks, pulling you into a hug as your friends pay no mind to you. Then a surge of anger washes over you, "You're right. . but why am I so crushed?!" you say bitterly, clutching onto his forearms. "Because you let them have your hopes, that one day they'll call for you. . but I'm here now."

"Let me uplift you, Y/N. I'll always be here for you."

Kazuha says gently, taking your hands in his and intertwining his fingers with yours, "I, Kazuha, vow on this very day, I'll always be here for you, Y/N, and I'll help you find better friends, so you can truly smile," he says, placing a soft kiss to your forehead.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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itsthestutterforme · 1 year

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“Friend of Eadith” 2/2

Summary: You sought out to find Eadith when she goes missing. Thankfully, you find her just in time- her and a few others.

Notes: GIF is not mine, all mistakes are my own, sexual themes (morning sex, sub!Osferth, dom!reader), mentions of past relationship with Aemond Targaryen

“You must join me,” “Aemond, I can’t.” “You said until death do us part, did you not?” “I did, but-“ “Then you must do this,” your eyes narrows at the dagger in his outstretched hand. “Please, don’t make me do this-“ “Do it! Now!” “I won’t!” You yelled back at him, slapping the dagger from his hand.

He lunges at you and you awoke with a scream. Your eyes snap open, frantically searching for a weapon until you realizes you were in the confines of your hut back in Mercia. Your chest heaved with heavy breaths. The door bursted open, earning a sharp inhale from you.

It was Osferth holding his sword as his eyes searched the room. “Is everything alright, Lady Y/N? I heard screaming.” He states, continuing to analyze the room. “It’s alright.. I was just having a bad dream.” His face falls when he sees you wipe the tears from your face. You must have been crying in your dream.

He retires his sword and closes the door behind him. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asks, sighing when you shake your head no. He sets his sword on the table and sits next to you, cupping your chin to press kisses to your temple. You’ve been seeing each other for a week. It’s been the longest Uhtred has stayed in one place, and you’re not ready to see him leave.

“Come,” He lays with his back to the door, protecting you from any harm and you laid down facing him. “I fear I’ve grown attached to you, Osferth.” He blinks softly at your words. “And I you, lady.” “That can’t be good for either of us, is it?”

“It feels right. That’s what matters.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you wrapped your arms around his neck, the side of your face resting on his. His soft breaths tickled your neck and your eyes naturally closed, feeling the safety in the warmth of Osferth’s body.

Sunrise came and Finan went into Osferth’s tent to see it empty. He huffed in annoyance and made his way over to your hut where the two of you were fast asleep. Finan knocks on the door of your hut, startling you both. “Put your clothes on, you rabbits. Prince Edward has arrived and wants to meet with us.” Finan announces through the door. You groaned as you sat up, smoothing your hair down with little progress.

“You look beautiful,” Osferth says, gently pulling at one of your smaller curls. “I look like something exploded in my face,” you say, causing him to chuckle. You both stood from the bed and you grabbed a brush on your vanity table. Osferth watched as you brush your hair down with some tree oil.

You caught his gaze in the mirror and a revelation came to mind. “Osferth,” “Yes, beloved.” You heart fluttered at the pet name. “If Uhtred stationed you on the other side of camp, how did you hear my screams?” “I.. w-well, you see..”

You turned to face him, setting the brush back down. “You came in seconds later. Which meant you were right outside when you heard them. What were you doing out there that late?” His adams apple bobbed anxiously as you neared him.

You walked him to the bed, he sat at the edge and you stood between his legs. He looked straight up at you with the most innocent of faces, but you knew better. “Tell me,” you said with amusement. “I w-wanted to check if you were awake,” “To do what?”

“To hump you,” he said softly, his gaze falling to the swells of your breasts in your night gown. “Hm. You would think you would get tired of me by now.” You state. “I could never get tired of you, lady.” You slowly piled yourself in his lap, he leans on his back with his hands holding your hips.

He whimpers when you rolled your hips against him, he takes the fabric of your night gown to pull over your head. “Oy! I’m still here. Go bathe in some holy oil, you heathens and get your arses out here. Jesus Christ!” Finan exclaims. “I mean it!” He adds.

“Alright, alright. Osferth is going. I still have to put on my dress.” When you try to slide off his lap, he holds you steady. “We have a problem,” he whispers when you raise a brow at him. You follow his gaze to the tent in his gown and bit back a smile. “We’ll be right out, Finan. I promise.”

“Jesus,” you could practically hear his eye roll from where you were. You waited to hear his descended footsteps. “Aw, you needy boy. I barely even touched you and you’re already this hard.” “Please,” he ruts his hips into your hand. “Guess we’ll have to make this quick then.”

Since Prince Edward arrived to Mercia, things have been odd to say the least. Osferth has been distant. Finding excuses why he couldn’t see you. You were a bit confused and a little hurt.

Edward hasn’t been shy with his interest in you, but that’s never been new. Men haven’t wanted to pursue you since before you turned 18. The only man that succeeded in winning you over were Aemond and Osferth. You had no interest in Prince Edward.

Osferth glanced over at you and Eadith walking your horses back to the stable. He looked away once he saw Prince Edward approach you. “You’re just going to give up a woman that has your heart so easily?“ Uhtred asks him. “There’s no comparison, Lord. I’m a mere bastard. He’s next in line to the throne.”

“Lady Y/N, may we walk through the garden together?” Prince Edward asks once you reached the stable. You and Eadith shared a look and she gave you sympathetic eyes. “I have some business to attend to with Lord Uhtred, your Grace. Perhaps later?”

“Of course. I’ll be waiting.” You walked away with Eadith and she falls into stride with you. “So what are you going to do?” “I’m going to get to the bottom of what’s wrong with Osferth.” You approached Osferth and he stands from the table. “Sit.. down.” You commanded, holding his gaze until he sat back down.

His embarrassed gaze fell to his hands folded in his lap. “Can you gives us a minute?” “Of course,” Uhtred says with a smile, standing from the table. Sihtric and Finan follow him to the alehouse, you smiled when you Finan nudged you as he walked by. “Go get ‘em,”

You sighed as your focus settled back on Osferth. Sitting on the bench in front of him, he refused to meet your eye. You leaned forward and lifted his chin until you saw his sky blue orbs. “Talk to me, please..” “He’s interested in you. He’s the better choice.” “And you’re willing to give me up at the sight of a challenge?”

When he doesn’t respond, you scoffed and stood from the table. You turned to find Eadith when you felt a hand on your forearm. “Of course I’ll fight for you. But why would you want me as your..” “Your what?” “I want to be more than your lover. I want to be your partner, your husband.”

“You wish to be my husband?” A wide smile making its way to your lips. He takes your hands into his and pulled you to where he was sitting. “I do, Y/N. I-If you’ll have me.” “Then why have you been avoiding me whenever Prince Edward nears?” He squeezes at the name.

“I’m a bastard. Prince Edward and I share a father. And if he’s interested in you, there’s nothing that can stop him from having you. He can give you things I can’t even fathom. He’s… better than me.” He pulls away from your hands. “I see.. you think that because your father chose him over you, that I’ll do the same?”

You took his silence as an agreement. “I never cared for status or money. I care about who makes me feel safe and wanted.” You added. He grew confident in your words, his eyes narrow when he saw your lips twist into a mischievous smirk. “Tell me when he’s looking,” you said. Osferth looks to the table across the walkway to see Edward staring at the two of you with a bewildered look on his face.

“He’s look-“ you held his face and pressed a warm kiss to his lips. You chuckle when he moaned into the kiss only to whine after you pull away from him. “Where are you going?” “Taking a bath,” you made your way to the lake, stopping to look over your shoulder. He scrambled to his feet when you beckoned him over, nearly losing his footing on the way to you.

#osferthxblack!reader #osferth x reader #the last kingdom #ewan mitchell

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coco-bean-1218 · 3 months

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CLAIREEEEEEEE I AM ON MY HANDS AND KNEES BEGGING FOR ANGSTY CHUCK/CLAIRE CONTENT 🙏🙏

could i do "You’ll be fine.” silence “You’ll be fine. Hey! Wake up! Please. Please wake up…" from the injury prompts?? it doesn't matter who's injured, i'm sure it'll be great either way!!

love you!! have an amazing day!

BLU!!!!! I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!!!! THIS IS GONNA BREAK SO MANY HEARTS!!!! GRAB THE TISSUES; YOU'LL NEED THEM!!!! LOVE YOU TOO!!!!

WARNING: SPOILER ALERT

December, 1944

Ardennes Forest, Bastogne, Belgium

The world erupted in a cacophony of thunder, the ground shivering beneath Claire's feet. December's chill had seeped into the bones of Easy Company as they huddled in their foxholes in Bastogne, but nothing could have prepared them for the sudden inferno that rained from the sky.

"Get down!" someone screamed, barely audible over the roar.

Claire’s instincts as a combat medic kicked in—she was already moving, crouched low, ready to throw herself towards the wounded. But fate had a cruel twist; a shell burst mere feet away, its shockwave hurling her through the air like a ragdoll caught in a gust of wind. Time seemed to slow as Claire soared through the air, her body twisting and contorting in unnatural ways.

"CLAIRE!" The cry cut through the chaos, agonized and sharp.

Grant's voice, unmistakable even amidst the pandemonium, was laced with raw terror. His long strides ate up the distance between them as he bolted from his cover, the golden-haired paratrooper from California who'd never quite mastered the art of concealing his heart on his sleeve.

Claire hit the frozen earth hard, her vision exploding into a swirling mass of grey and crimson. Sounds dulled, as if she were underwater, her ears ringing with an eerie high-pitched whine that drowned out the battle cries and explosions.

"Cl-Claire?" Grant’s anxious face swam into view above her, his blue eyes wide with fear. His lips moved, forming words she couldn't hear.

She tried to respond, to tell him she was alright, but her voice was lost, a silent scream in her throat. Panic clawed at her insides, a relentless beast that wouldn't be soothed. She couldn't move, couldn't feel anything below the sharp pain that sliced through her chest just below her collarbone.

Blood—her blood—stained the snow around her, a vivid red against pure white. Claire's mind reeled; this wasn't how it was supposed to end, not here, not now. She had always been the one patching others up, not the other way around.

Her breaths came in shallow gasps, each one an icy dagger in her lungs. She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all—the girl who joked in the face of death now stared it down, and the humor was lost on her.

"Please," she heard Grant whisper through the veil of disorientation that clouded her consciousness, his plea a fragile thread in the tapestry of war that unraveled around them.

Claire's thoughts swirled, conflicting emotions battling within her. There was Eugene, her best friend, whose steady presence had always anchored her, and then there was Grant, the embodiment of awkward affection and earnest blue-eyed concern. She had never intended to weave such a complicated web of feelings between them, especially not here, in the midst of a world torn apart by conflict.

Was this what dying felt like? The cold seeping into her bones, the world fading at the edges, leaving behind only the echo of unrequited love and the faces of those she cared about?

"Grant," she tried to say, but the name dissolved into the frigid air, unheard. Her body was betraying her, refusing to cooperate, to fight, to cling to the life she'd always gripped with stubborn tenacity.

Through the haze of pain and fear, Claire held onto one thought: she wasn't ready to let go. Not yet.

"Roe!" Grant's voice tore through the biting cold, a desperate plea against the deafening blasts that continued to punctuate the frozen landscape. His hands, already numb from the chill, shook as he assessed Claire's injuries—a graphic contrast of crimson against the pristine white snow.

"It's okay, Claire," he reassured her, his gaze between duty and decorum. The fabric of her coat was shredded, and beneath it, a darker stain spread, threatening to consume her vitality. He knew he needed to act, but propriety held him back. How could he, a man raised on respect and decency, expose Claire in such a way? Yet, as her shallow breaths fogged the icy air, he realized that hesitation could cost her life.

"Please, Eugene!" he called again, his voice cracking with the strain of both fear and cold. He tentatively reached for the edge of her coat, hesitating, "Sorry, Claire," he whispered, as he carefully started to remove the layers, his fingers working with urgency yet light and respectful. His hands trembled, not just from the cold, but also from the fear of further injuring her or crossing an unseen line even in this dire situation.

Claire's breath came in shallow gasps, fogging the air briefly before dissipating into nothingness. She lay there, a delicate figure etched against the harshness of war, her life slipping away with each labored breath.

"You’ll be fine." The words felt hollow even as they left his lips, a mantra against the overwhelming helplessness. Silence swallowed his assurance whole, leaving him stranded amidst the chaos of his own emotions.

Grant looked down into the wound, the blood seeping out onto the snow, painting a harsh picture of mortality. His mind raced, every second without Eugene an eternity, every drop of her blood a testament to his own inadequacy. His hands, though gentle, were clumsy with urgency as he worked to stem the flow, his movements mindful not to cause further harm.

"You’ll be fine." He repeated, more to himself now, a feeble attempt to will the universe into compliance. "Hey! Wake up! Please. Please wake up…" The tremor in his voice betrayed the panic that clawed its way through his composure.

In his mind, he saw her smile, the way her eyes lit up when she laughed, the spirited debates they’d shared, the tender moments that had unfolded so naturally between them. Those memories clashed with the present—her face losing color, her body growing still. The thought of a future without her was unacceptable, unthinkable.

"Come on, Claire," he murmured, his hands slick with her blood. Each heartbeat that throbbed under his fingertips was a reminder that she was still here, still fighting. And as long as she fought, he would fight with her. In the battlefield of love and war, surrender wasn't an option. Not for Claire. Not while he still drew breath.

"Doc, hurry," Grant whispered into the void, as if the words could summon Eugene faster. His gaze never left Claire's face, willing her to return to him, to return to the world that was cruel and beautiful and theirs for the taking—if only she would wake up.

Claire's eyelids snapped open with a jolt, revealing a world that spun and shimmered in a haze of blurred shapes and muted sounds. Her breaths came in ragged gulps, stirring the frigid air into tiny clouds that dissipated as quickly as they formed. The coppery tang of blood filled her mouth, mingling with the sting of gunpowder and earth.

"You're okay," Grant's voice reached her, distant and distorted, like an echo in a deep cavern. His hands were gentle yet urgent on her skin, pressing down to stem the flow of warmth that seeped from her chest.

But Claire's attention was pulled away, drawn to the spectral figure emerging from the chaos—a boy, no, a young man with familiar brown hair and eyes that mirrored her own in-depth and sorrow. Noah stood before her, his navy uniform impeccable, untouched by the grime of war. He seemed out of place amidst the snow and blood, an apparition from another time, another life.

"Hi, Claire," he said, his voice clear and soothing, a balm to the agony that wracked her body, "I've missed you."

"Noah...?" she whispered,

"It doesn't have to hurt anymore, the heartache or the pain," Noah replied, offering a half-smile that twisted Claire's heart with nostalgia, "The sorrow, the guilt, the longing."

"Can't feel anything... should be nice..." she muttered, her voice barely a thread, as her hand quivered, reaching toward Noah's inviting grasp.

"It is," Noah whispered, his voice like an ethereal gust of wind. "Peaceful. No pain. No fear. No war."

Her hand twitched, instinctively reaching for him, but a sharp pain lanced through her body, drawing a gasp that fogged the lenses of her glasses. She could see Grant's silhouette hovering over her, the intensity of his gaze burning even through the blurriness.

Noah's hand stretched out towards her, fingers almost translucent against the backdrop of the winter sky. "Come with me, Claire. We can be together—like we always should've been."

"Grant will understand," Noah continued, his gaze holding hers, unyielding yet full of compassion as he placed his phantasmal hand on Grant's shoulder. "He's a good man. He knows about loss, about love. He knows how much you loved me, how much I meant to you. He'll let you go."

Claire's mind reeled, torn between the beckoning peace Noah offered and the raw, desperate need to cling to life—to Grant. Her thoughts became a tangle of memories and wishes, each one pulling her in opposite directions. Could she leave Grant and Eugene behind? Abandon the future they might have shared?

"Please, Claire, fight this," Grant urged, his voice breaking through her indecision. "You're strong. You’ve always been the bravest person I know."

Tears blurred her vision further, mixing with the blood and dirt on her face. Noah's presence was comforting, promising an end to pain, to fear. But it was Grant's touch, warm and alive, that anchored her to the here and now.

"Grant...Eugene," Her voice was a wind-whispered echo, her hand lifting with the tremulous fragility of a leaf in a storm.

"Hey, hey, I'm right here," Grant said, his voice thick with panic as he pressed down on the wound with more force, crimson overflowing onto the white snow beneath them. His heart pounded against his ribcage, each beat a hammer blow against the walls of his composure.

"Noah...?" Claire murmured again, reaching out to the spectral vision only she could see. A soft smile curved her lips, a stark contrast to the chaotic tumult around them. Her fingers brushed through the apparition's offering, finding nothing but the chill of winter air.

"God, no," Grant whispered, hot tears carving tracks through the grime on his face. He watched her eyes fixate on an unseen horizon, her gaze filled with longing and love for a ghost from her past. The ghost of Noah Walters—the man he could never be, the first to claim her heart.

"Stay with me, Claire," he pleaded, feeling the tremble of her body like a sparrow in his hands. "Don't go to him."

But how could he compete with eternity? How could he chain her to a world of pain when the one she loved offered her solace in the beyond?

"Grant...will understand," she spoke aloud, her voice a fading ember as the hallucination of Noah coaxed her further. Her fingers twitched in the empty air, seeking a hand that wasn't there.

"Understand what? That I'm losing you? That I can't save you?" Grant's whisper broke into a ragged sob. A sob born from the deepest well of fear and loss, a sound that mingled with the distant thunder of war.

"Please, don't leave me," he begged, pressing his forehead to hers, his tears warm against her cold skin. "I can't—I won't let you go."

Claire's breath hitched, a silent struggle raging within her. Noah's presence was soothing, a balm to her shattered soul, yet Grant's touch, his earnest plea, was a lifeline thrown in a roiling sea.

"Damn it, Claire! Fight! Don't let him take you away from me!" Grant's voice was a desperate incantation, willing her spirit back from the precipice.

In her delirium, the pull of Noah's ghostly allure was strong, like a siren's call tugging at her very essence. It whispered promises of peace and reunion, of a love that transcended time and death itself. All the pain and suffering that had marred her existence would be washed away in the tender embrace of Noah's phantom arms. In a veil of mist, she saw Grant's tear-streaked face, his blue eyes searching hers for any sign of sanity, of recognition. He begged her with silent tears, his breath catching in his throat as he reached out for her one last time.

"We can be together, just like you always wanted," echoed Noah's voice in her mind, a haunting symphony of memories and dreams.

"God, no...not her...not my Claire," Grant repeated, his voice a raw edge of hope. He took hold of her hand, still reaching out into the open air, and pressed it tightly against his chest, over the frantic thump of his heart. His grip was fierce, unwilling to let her slip away. "Don't go. Please, don't go," he pleaded, his voice hoarse with desperation. "I can't imagine my life without you."

"Stay or go," she heard her own heart echo, as she slipped back into unconsciousness. A heart that beat not just for the lost love of her youth, but for the man who held her now, who wept for her life amidst the snow and blood, whose tears fell onto her cheeks.

"I LOVE YOU!"

---

#uh oh poor Claire #well behaved women never make history #wbwnmh #band of brothers #band of brothers ofc #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers x ofc #my oc #ask game #chuck grant #eugene roe #eugene roe x ofc #chuck grant x ofc

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mrs-han · 1 year

Text

Soft lips traversed down your chest, teasing the perky nub of your breast. Hands soft to the touch slid up your thighs with slow and careful precision, memorizing your shape.

You arched your back, eager for more. You wanted nothing more than to open your eyes, to cast your gaze upon the man touching you with so much care, passion, and affection that it made you cry night after night.

But every time you teased the possibility of peeking at him, you’d hear that voice. Deep and sonorous, enchanting you to obey.

“No, darling. Keep your eyes closed. A little while longer, my love. Just a little while longer.”

You listened and obeyed. But it came at such a heavy cost to you. Husbands and wives… they looked at each other, didn’t they?

Your reality was based in a world where marriage wasn’t grounded on the fantasies of love, but of the realities of advantage. You were at the age where marriage was inevitable, and you accepted your fate with grace.

The wedding itself was quick and uneventful. Your face remained covered by a heavy cloth throughout the ceremony, one you thought was normal for wives to don.

Once the union became final, you had expected to see your new husband - to hold his hands and give him a respectable kiss on the lips.

But you were never given that opportunity. No, he disappeared with the wind with the simple vow of meeting you again.

And he kept his promise. Every night, a quarter past midnight, a hush fell over your room as your husband whispered, “Close your eyes, my love.”

When your friends spoke of their new husbands with disdain or pleasure, you could at least place faces to names.

But you had no answer when they asked of your spouse; the excuse of him being busy with work was far overplayed.

But tonight would be the night you would try — try to touch him before he could touch you, kiss him before he could kiss you, and finally, finally lay your eyes upon him.

You adjusted your pillows and pressed your head firmly against them, impatient as the clock slowly ticked toward it’s destined time. It was impossible for you to stay still, fidgeting with your hair and nails; You were going against his wishes for the first time. What if he was terrifying, a demon or a warlock—

Frigid air brushed past you, taking your breath away. Even as you trembled in fear, you kept your eyes open.

“Darling… no… no, what are you doing…?”

… How did he get in? He didn’t make a single noise; hinges on doors didn’t squeak, there was no sound of heels tapping against tile.

Yet, you knew it was him by his alluringly overwhelming presence, the silky undertones of his voice. You sat up.

“No…!”

You had expected more gargoyle-like features from your husband. Fanged teeth, bulging eyes, several faces in one head. But what greeted you was a man so… so…

“You’re beautiful,” you whispered, tears blinding your vision.

Awe turned to disappointment. Your husband was shielding his eyes.

“What… what’s wrong?” You inquired gently.

“Darling, I need to go.”

“Go?” You stood, your nightgown billowing behind you. “Go where, we… this is the first time I’m seeing you…!”

“You aren’t meant to see me.”

“But why not, we — we’re married!”

“Darling —”

“Please —!”

Your arms ensnared him. He let out a shuddering breath.

“Nothing… nothing should stop me from seeing you! You’re my husband… we’ve been betrothed before time began! Let me see your face… please, let me look upon your face for a few more seconds…”

Your husband — devoted, loving, and kind — cast his eyes upon you. Eyes full of sorrow, and pain, and regret.

A tear from his eye landed upon your cheek. You pressed your body against his… firm and warm… and your fingers nimbly wiped his cheek. “Don’t cry, love… we’re together now, aren’t we…?”

His embrace, sudden yet welcome, filled your soul. Here he was… this was him, your betrothed, your eternal partner. Your tears fell blissfully from your eyes and over your cheeks.

It was in your state of bliss that you failed to notice the dagger in your husband’s shaking hand.

You felt it’s spike pierce your skin.

And you screamed.

#mystic messenger #jumin han #mein schatz #i didn’t revisit this hc for a long time because of how painful it was to my heart #but as time has passed #i can revisit this idea with fresh eyes and no emotional attachment #Spotify #also Hai OuO #i haven’t been on here for a hot minute ><#how is everyone?

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kayfabebabe · 11 months

Note

i was thinkin for the knight reader/lord regal stuff, some angst where the reader takes a heavy hit to protect his lordship, and is left bleeding out in regal's arms

Mango and my Dear Anon, thank you both so much for your Asks! I have truly fallen in love with this AU and I have some fun future plans for it. If you’ve not read the first part then you can find it RIGHT HERE.

This is a heavier part of this AU so please read the warnings.

Nobel Lord Regal X Male Knight Reader WARNINGS - Major character death. Description of injuries and blood. HEAVY Angst. Descriptions of violence.

(Ps. Major thanks to @regalityandcoffee for helping me get this thing finished after MONTHS of staring at it and not writing anything.)

~ ~ ~

There are a handful of moments in our lives that can be described as truly 'perfect.' For some, it's a childhood memory of joyfully splashing in puddles after heavy rainfall. Screeching at the top of their lungs with laughter until they grew too tired to continue. For others, it's lazily basking in the first Summer sun of the year. Thankful for the warmth chasing the lingering chill of Winter from the air. If you’re lucky, you’ll get to experience moments like these, over and over again.

The beginning of that night was one of those perfect moments. You had crept through the darkened halls of the manor to William’s bedchambers and he welcomed you with an enthused kiss. It had been a great number of days since you could afford to steal time for yourselves. In that relatively short period, you grew desperate to hear William softly sigh your name or to feel his fingers clutch at your hips. How could one person cast such a spell over another?

Falling into his Lordship's embrace, you allowed him to begin to strip you bare. Soon, soft pleasured sounds were being muffled between your mouths and your hands roamed under William’s shirt. Both of you were too preoccupied with each other to notice heavy footsteps approaching the door.

~ ~ ~

A kid. It was only a kid.

His eyes were wide and brimmed with tears, face ashen as he stumbled away from you. The deep scarlet of your blood stained his fingertips. You stared in disbelief at the younger man before your gaze dropped to the dagger’s ornate handle protruding awkwardly from your chest. Oh. Strangely, in that singular moment of time, the only thing that you could focus on was the initials engraved into the silver. You recognised them. Then, all at once, hot and cold flames burned through your torso and a broken cry was ripped from your throat.

“Anthony! Someone, help!”

Everything felt out of step with reality. One second, your lover was whispering words of affection into your skin and, in the next, you had been attacked. This couldn’t be happening. More loud voices instantly filled the room whilst you were guided backwards onto the bed and William appeared beside you. His hands desperately tried to press the loose bed linens around the blade to stop the bleeding, but to no avail. The white material soon became dark and damp.

"You fool. You stupid, stupid fool."

“I-I’m… Sorry.”

There was no real anger behind William’s words. It took all of your strength to lift your hand and weakly wipe the tears from his cheek, trembling as you struggled to draw a full breath. This was it. If this was truly to be your final moments, all you wished was to spend it without fear in William’s arms. No more pretending that you weren’t in love with The Lord. Your fingers curled into the collar of William’s shirt as you attempted to pull him closer.

“I love… y-you… I Iov-v-ve… I…”

~ ~ ~

The service was simple.

Every member of the household attended, including the student knights, dressed in full regalia, as they carried the coffin upon their shoulders. Colourful arrangements of Hydrangeas and Lillies sat in tall vases beside the headstone. Their vibrant hues did little to lighten the sombre mood. Master Schiavone had handled the business arranging the funeral as His Lordship was too overwhelmed by his grief to leave his study for any length of time.

Nobody spoke of the anguished sobs that could be heard through the door. Or how, in the rare moments that His Lordship emerged from his solitude, his face was gaunt and thin. It was understood that Lord Regal had lost an incredibly close companion and that was not questioned.

Long after the proceedings had ended and the other mourners had disappeared, William remained standing at the grave. He wished he could crumble to the ground in a heap and scream until his throat was raw. When will this pain stop? It was torturous from the second that he wakes up in the morning to falling asleep at night. Master Schiavone made several attempts to ease some of the grief resting heavily on William’s shoulders. ‘Time is the healer of all necessary evils, Sir.’ Staring at the raised ground and the polished marble headstone, William couldn’t believe that time was the answer to this heartache.

Nothing was going to stop this hurt.

#Ask Answered #Thank you Mango and Anon <3 #The Human Writes #Regal X Reader #Fanfiction #Knights in Love AU #This is very sad #Please read the warnings #Heavy Angst #I'm back on my writing bullshit #William Regal X Reader #Fanfic #Lord Regal #Knight Reader #No comfort #Only hurt

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the-void-writes · 2 years

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Long FOP snippet

@jacquesfindswritingandadvice You were asking how Jason reacts to finding out the lie, and I figured it would be easier to just show part of that chapter 😄

(This is still a very rough draft. I want to fix it up, but I’m not sure how yet.)

The room flashed white for a second, then everything came into focus. Vesely and Rio fell to the floor with a unified grunt. When Jason finally saw their mystery guest, his heart jumped in his chest. It was a young boy, with golden hair, bronze skin, and deep blue eyes…

Jason’s throat was so dry that he couldn’t even bring himself to speak, to say the name that he desperately hoped the stranger would respond to. Instead, with a trembling hand, he reached up and untucked the little sun necklace from his sweater. He waited for a sign of recognition, but the boy surprised him by untucking his own necklace, the one Jason thought he had in his desk.

The moon that matched his sun.

Neither of them said anything, afraid to move or look away. Then, in one swift movement, Will ran at Jason. The force of his hug brought them both to the floor. Jason did his best to comfort the boy as he sobbed.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m right here, buddy. You’re safe… you’re safe.”

It was his turn to cry. His boy was alive, his special and wonderful boy. For a second, he locked eyes with Vesely, who seemed stunned and slightly frightened. Jason leaned back to speak, and Will met his words in unison.

“How are you alive?”

Jason stuttered. “I thought— They said you were dead.”

“For a few minutes, yeah. These other doctors brought me back. But you—” Will shook his head. “I saw you in the mortuary.”

“What?”

“Henry said it was a blood clot. The doctors found you in your room. You were dead, I saw you.”

Jason recalled that night in the hospital. He had been so broken by the loss of his friend that everything seemed like a blur; his breakdown on the floor, the trip out of the hospital, the wait in the car… the wait for Rio and Avery. Fearing the worst, he dared to ask the question:

“Will, who brought you back that night?”

“I can’t remember them that well.” Will froze as he tried to think. “There was something about their eyes, each one was a different color. I think one of them was hurt.”

Jason glared at Rio, who tried to look away, only to meet Vesely’s angrier stare.

“Rio,” he asked, “what is he talking about?”

Rio shook his head. “We couldn’t let him die, Gabe.”

“You and Avery went behind my back?”

Will turned to look at Rio. That deep voice, and the scarred eye…

“It’s you,” he said. “You were one of the doctors.”

Jason clenched his fists. “Rio, you better start talking.”

Three pairs of eyes bore into Rio like daggers. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair.

“Jay, I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t. Gabe wanted you to—”

Vesely glared at him. “Rio, you can’t tell him.”

“He’s going to find out anyway.”

“You can’t tell him. You have no right.”

Rio screwed his eyes shut and held his tongue. Jason looked between the two of them, growing more and more irritated.

“Are you blackmailing him to lie to me?”

Vesely held his hands up. “Jason, please, I had no idea Will was still alive. His body was already wheeled down when we got there.”

Jason’s pale eyes were full of anger. “I’m such an idiot— Why were you sneaking around the morgue?”

“We wanted to take you both in, to help the child grow.”

Rio’s quick flinch told Jason otherwise. He stared at him intently, and Rio tried to look away. Vesely shoved his arm.

“You’re a soldier, for God’s sake! Why are you so vulnerable right now?”

“You’re threatening him with something,” Jason said. “Of course, he’s conflicted.”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re not mad at him.”

“I’m fucking furious, but you’re still hiding something. If you won’t tell me, then I want to hear it from Rio.”

“If he cares about his life, then he won’t say a thing.”

They both waited for Rio to make his decision. Will almost felt sorry for him, as he obviously wanted to speak, but was forcing himself not to. Vesely nodded triumphantly.

“You see, Jason? He knows who his true allies—”

“Gabe ran you both down in the crosswalk that night.”

Everyone was dead quiet. Rio didn’t want to keep going, but he knew he had to, for Jason’s sake.

“He wanted you to be our caretaker from the start. I don’t know why, but he wanted you, and he knew you wouldn’t leave Will and Henry willingly. He made us follow him out to town, and he ran you both over. The doctors saved you, but they couldn’t start Will’s heart again. He was dead, for real… until Avery and I brought him back.”

Will shook his head. “Jason’s body—”

“I made it, kid. It’s part of my power. That and the necklace I gave to Jason, they’re both fake.”

The world felt hollow under Jason’s knees, as though one wrong move would cause the surface to break. He wanted to scream, to start throwing punches, to make them pay for lying to him for eight goddamn years. And yet, his body refused to move. He could just barely force himself to speak.

“You kidnapped me.”

Rio cringed. “Yes, Jay.”

“You knew he was alive.”

“I’m so sorry…”

The silence was so intense it was almost deafening. Jason stayed on the floor, still holding Will as he glared at the two men. Vesely saw the deep, murderous intent in his eyes and cleared his throat.

“Well, this has been fun, but—”

He grabbed Rio’s arm and rushed into the hallway. Finally free of his paralysis, Jason could only scream into the corridor.

“You took my leg, you took my family! I’ll kill you, do you hear me? I’ll kill you!”

#writeblr #writing community #wip: freaks of preston

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fallowfield · 1 year

Text

Father's Favorite

SUMMARY: Theiva is not her father's favorite child. She is different. But she wants to be like her sisters.

[ CW: child favoritism, partner death, self-injury, stillbirth, and some typical myth violence ]

I am not my father's favorite.

I am not his least favorite, either. Far from Mother's least, but her favorite will always be her firstborn, who Father hates.

I suppose it has something to do with how I am built. How I am perceived. I am a predator among its prey; a hunter among herbivores. The only of my kind so far. How the hen and the wolf got along well enough to have children is still a question to be answered, but how the hen hatched a fox is unanswerable all the same.

The worst part of it all is simple: I want to be Father's favorite. We are the most similar. We are the ones that understand each other the most. Yet he refuses to admonish me with the title of favorite; he gives that to my sisters, the twins. To Dedea and Brayja, the rulers of night and day. Sheep with no one else to turn to or follow than the mighty sheepdog that carries them.

When he gives the order to kill my brother's wife, who am I to refuse?

Though I am not the one to hang her—he demands that honor for himself—I am the one to capture her. She begs for mercy. For freedom. But I cannot give that to her. I have it dead set in my mind that I must usurp my sisters and take their place as his favorite. That I must become like a sheep following orders in exchange for his favor.

He is in the crowd when Father reveals her fate. The fate of all of the humans he gave life to. I am, unfortunately, horrified that he would do all of this just to get back at the son he never wanted, never loved. That he never believed was his.

But I cannot justify stopping this madness with myself. I am powerless as her head falls from her shoulders and lands with a sickening plop in front of the stage he commanded for himself. Though a warrior would never call themselves helpless, should never call themselves helpless.

Regret fills my stomach and heart the moment I hear him cry her name. It's weak, like a croak of despair, and as he makes such a sound, Father makes an additional statement to the horrified, sickened crowd around us.

"Ona's son, Exion, will be the ruler of death; of the end of all things; of the aftermath of it."

He cries out again at the unwanted assignment of the thing that took the only human he cared about from him. But Father is the king of us, the king of all. He cannot refuse his statements.

I can hear his shuddering sobs late into the night. I can hear Mother trying to soothe him gently into sleep. I can hear Dedea and Brayja checking in on him late.

None of them speak a word to me on this matter. I do not speak a word to them of it, either.

When the war is declared, I am there. My brother stands on the opposite side of the room, his eyes flaring with anger. He points one finger at father, demands an answer, but is given none. He takes the form he so despised that he claimed to have given up; his antlers stretch high above his head, poking carefully into the heavens when he is out of our domain, dark eyes and long snout filled with rage. We are enemies the moment he defies Father. The moment I refuse to step away from the form on the throne. Mother stays out of it. Dedea and Brayja are beside him.

Father hands me a dagger. Tells me to prove myself to him by taking my own brother's heart. I do not hesitate to step to him, looking him in the eyes. I grab him by the cloak, pause only briefly. I see that he is not only full of rage, but full of grief. The same grief as when mother buried her third child without Father's knowledge, when she asked me to place a tree that would forever grow from the soil of the earth so as to never forget her lost child. And I falter for just a moment.

I place my hand to the right side of my brother's chest. His blood is like acid when I remove the blade from its position inside him.

When father cries out, tells me I am a disappointment to him, when my brother rises from the wound, I am never more happy not to be father's favorite.

#crops #writing #writblr #writers on tumblr #creative writing #god ocs #writeblr #this is a compaion piece to something have yet to fully write. and it is the myth of exion's wife and how he became 'evil'#oc: exion #oc: theiva #oc: ona #oc: yrus #oc: dedea #oc: brayja

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elfan22 · 2 years

Text

Broken Soul - Chapter Eight sneakpeek

A/N: drugs, struggle, angst, confliction.

I hope y'all are enjoying these sneakpeeks hehe. Eventually I'm gonna open something for requests for fics, but you could always message me in the Ask.

~~~

The Mandalorian stands behind you silently, watching them observe their quarry. He can sense your tension, but there's nothing that he can do for you anymore... and there is no comfort that he could offer in good conscious...

The younger man seems more interested in the Child than you, but the old man makes his way to stand inches from your face. You have to look up to meet his eyes as he towers over you, looking down at you as if you were some piece of meat in the street market. It feels as if flames are bursting from your gaze as your attempts to suppress your anger fail dismally.

"My employer has been looking for you for a long time. He will be content to hear that you're in captivity."

"You and your employer can go to hell," you spit.

He simply smiles with contempt in his gaze, as he wipes drops of spit from his cheek with the back of his hand. "It'll do you well to learn to watch your tongue during your stay." He turns to the Mandalorian, who is still standing in silence behind you. "Your reputation was not unwarranted."

The man turns to the desk behind him and pulls out a metal container that was tucked beneath it. He pushes a button and the container hisses open to display a large stack of beskar bars. Truly, an expensive sell. You're not surprised at the price - a Jedi and a Child with the potential of one is a hefty catch for one bounty hunter.

The younger man turns to leave the room and the Child's pod starts to follow him. The Child turns in his pod to look at you, crying as he leaves, and you start to struggle in your bonds, desperately wishing to be taken with him. He disappears into the other room with the doctor and your heart drops in your chest as he leaves your sight.

Mando is watching him go as well and he speaks to the Client. "What are your plans for it?"

"How uncharacteristic of one of your reputation. You have taken both commission and payment." The door where you had entered slides open and stormtroopers enter, making their way over to where you stand and each takes a hold of your arms to keep you still. "Is it not the Code of the Guild that these events are now forgotten?"

The Mandalorian says nothing, just stares at the old man in front of him.

The Client faces you once again, raising a hand to hold your face still as he looks at you. A low growl escapes you at his touch and daggers shoot from your eyes. "I do have to applaud you, however. Capturing a Jedi is no small task."

"... Jedi?" Mando's helmet turns to you as you continue to struggle out of the man's grip. This is the first time he's heard the name of your people. It's familiar. The Client releases his hold on your face as you move to bite his hand with a snarl.

"Yes, a Jedi. They have become a rare species and my employer would like to make them extinct." He looks at the Mandalorian. "Do you have her weapon?"

Panic shoots through you at his question and you look at the bounty hunter with urgency. His visor is burning into you as he watches you, still processing the man's statement. "She had a blaster when I found her. I confiscated it." You hold back a sigh of relief at his lie.

The man nods with a tight-lipped smile, but it's obvious that was not the weapon he was referring to. "Good." He nods to the stormtroopers that are holding you tightly, and they start to drag you to the door where the Child was taken. You struggle in their grasp, growling at them as you fight.

"Get your hands off of me! Let go!" you scream in anger. You try to plant your feet into the ground as they walk, but their force makes your heels drag on the ground with little to no effect on your retaliation. You manage to turn to look at the Mandalorian one last time before the troopers have dragged you through the door as it slides closed, calling out his name panickedly.

"Mando-"

He was watching you go, conflicting emotions plaguing his heart and his hands tightening into fists at his sides. They continue to yank you roughly through a hallway to a room with a large table. Panic flares in your chest when you see the restraints attached to it and you scream in anger as you let out your last bursts of energy to try to fight their grip. The sharp jab of a needle pierces your neck, and the room before you starts to go blurry.

Shit, they drugged me.

You shake your head, trying to clear it, as you manage to break one arm free from a trooper and knock him onto his back. You whip around to take care of the other trooper but your vision fades to black and your body falls to the floor with a thud. The last thing you see is the trooper leaning over you before you slip into unconsciousness.

~~~

Hehehe oh, no... she's drugged... Anyway, you can find the rest on my Wattpad and AO3

Please like and comment... I love comments ❤️

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pink02 · 2 years

Text

Apologize

Camilo Madrigal x f!reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: Camilo ruined the perfect opportunity for you to get a boyfriend. To all of the boys in town, there was finally someone who got the guts to confess to you but some troublemaker chameleon just had to ruin it.

Trigger warning: None

A/n: This story is like camilo x reader version of the scene where Mirabel wants to makes amends with Isabela but more dramatic.

Part 2 is out! I'm Sorry.

♡♡ Masterlist ♡♡

It wasn't really his fault when he technically didn't even mean it, right? It was a mishap! Mistakes happen. Its not like he intended to ruin that big mouth's ever so precious serenade for you. Like hell did he even gave a care if that guy would woo you with his cheap moves. He knows you wouldn't get take in just by those jokes.

"[Name]! Look, I'm here trying to be a better bestfriend!" Camilo shouts as he was trying to catch up to you. "[Name]!"

You kept on ignoring his calls as you stomped your way to your room. You were beyond upset to say the least as you entered your room with Camilo still tailing you from behind. "It's like my prima would say, can't we just hug it out?"

You turned your head back at the boy with a glare when you saw him right by the door with a sheepish smile and hands open wide. "Hug. It. Out?" You muttered sharply making Camilo shrank on his spot wincing at the harshness of your tone.

"Señor Anton's wagon was wrecked... Julio was thrown into the water through like a ditched out rag.... Are you out of your mind?!" You shrieked in rage as you pulled him up by the collar.

Camilo nervously gulped as he saw the deep fury within your eyes as he stared at you. He would say that you look kind of hot when your faces are so close and he could see the specs of red on your cheeks from anger. He wouldn't say it out loud though, especially right now. "I think... you're kind of upset. And you know the cure for being upset? Warm friendly hugs!" He spoke slowly while holding your hands to make you loosen the grip from his collar.

"You think?!" You pushed him against the door of your room making stumble back with a yelp. "If it wasn't for you, I would finally have someone to call them mine. I would have finally be with someone that would swoop me off my feet!" You exaggerated as you repeatedly poke his chest hard.

Your words stung, you knew, but you were too mad at the boy to even care what words you let out. You were too angry too see the pain in his eyes when you spoke, the breath he tried to hold as the your verdict pierced his heart like daggers. "If you want to be a better best friend? Then apologize for ruining my love life." You whispered, voice traced with venom as you narrow your eyes at the shapeshifter.

Camilo stood in place feeling the ache in his chest as you emphasized the word best friend. He gulped as your faces were just inches away from each other. If it wasn't for the pain, he would have blushed madly from your distance. He can't look at you straight in the eye now that you cleared up his role in your life. He was only a friend to you, and something inside him broke as you notion it.

"F-fine.." he stuttered then licked his dry lips after hearing the rasp of his voice. His bottom lip quivered as he tried not to show any pain in front of you.

He would never show his weakness or hurt to anyone who stands before him because he thought it would ruin his out-going and fun personality. The important thing that matters to him is always give them a bright and wide smile, it will always be his motto. "I apologize..."

"That you were childish enough to think that some ever so handsome prince charming would sweep you off your feet, make you fall inlove and would live happily ever after!!" Camilo brought his hands on your shoulders tight as he walked up to you making you step back a few feet.

Slap

"Childish...? Childish?? For all of my life, you would have seen me crying over every rejection I had over a guy I liked. And for once, someone finally had the guts to actually like me for me! Who would actually appreciate me even though I'm not as pretty as the others, even if I was ordinary than other girls, even if I'm not as special as them. Can't you see that, Camilo?!" Your voice cracked as tears ran down over your delicate cheeks.

You both stood silent only to hear your occasional sobs and hicks. Camilo stayed on his spot as his head bowed down, his curled hair hiding his face.

He couldn't open his mouth to speak, too speechless to say anything. His thoughts scattered rapidly within his mind as he kept on listening to every word you said.

You were his bestfriend, the most special person he had. He had been in love with you for who knows how long and it irked him to think that he was too much of a coward to not confess his feelings for you sooner. He felt ashamed of himself for not trying enough to get your attention. He had only been there to try to make you smile, he had only been there to be your crying shoulder whenever you were upset, he had only been there just to make you laugh away your worries. But he never been there to actually be with you by your side. To be with you as you two faced each others challenges.

He was a coward.

"Leave." You spoke cutting off the silence.

Taglist: @eventides-child-in-the-tardis @sunnth @dai-tsukki-desu

A/n: MWUAHAHAHAH cliffhangers for you guys. /j

I don't know if I would really end it in a good or bad way but I'm a little sadistic right now so I'll be leaving it as this and would like to let you decide if it will have a good ending or not. BWAHAHHAA

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wallflowerimagines · 3 years

Note

Hi! I looove your posts! Thank you so much for sharing your writing!

I was wondering… could you maybe write about the Four Lords with a shy S/O that gets bold and defensive when someone insults the lords? or calls them names? And the Lord’s reaction to the S/O acting different? Dk if im explaining myself >.<

Again! Love your work! Have a great day!

We stan protective partners on this blog!!

Warnings: uh...insults? They're pretty over the top😅 Also swearing.

Alcina Dimitrescu

Honestly, Alcina is more than able to defend herself.

She's got a tongue like a viper, and the thickest skin imaginable. If you really want to hurt her feelings, you have to be someone whom she already respects to a certain degree, or she won't even be phased.

Still, when she leaves a room, there's always some idiot that thinks it's a smart idea to talk shit.

Maybe it's a maid, maybe it's a guest in the Castle, but either way you're not having it.

"God, you're annoying." There was a pause before they opened their mouth again, and you rolled your eyes. "No please, by all means, continue to share your lack of taste with the rest of us."

You disassemble this dumbass, starting small with comments about their personality (trying to keep it classy), but escalating the more they choose to double down on the comments.

Alcina comes back into the room to find you practically screaming at this asshole.

"Look, all you have accomplished here today is revealing that you are a fundamental disappointment on every possible level. My life is worse now that I've heard you open your mouth, you disrespectful, shit licking worm fucker."

Alcina is stunned. You do not give off "aggressive guard dog" vibes at all, yet here you are defending her tooth and nail. While she had seen brief moments of your inner strength and protective streak (mostly towards her daughters) she just...never thought you would do the same for her.

It's not because she doesn't trust you or love you! But nobody has ever done something like this for her before? Ever? She's never had anyone try to protect her--not physically, and not even verbally. She's been so independent for so long that it's... Strange to see you support her so openly.

She doesn't need you to do this for her, she doesn't even expect it, but you do it anyway for no other reason than the fact that you love her. You want people to give her the respect she deserves.

I'm going to be real here: Alcina has never been closer to swooning before in her life. You're overcoming your shyness because you believe in her so much-- it's not a gesture meant to be romantic, but Alcina can't help but see this as a massive statement of your commitment to her.

Seriously. This is such a massive thing for her that if proposals weren't already on her mind, she is mentally picking out a ring for you the minute this happens.

Then, of course, she glides into the room, kisses you until you're breathless and babbling, and smirks at the unfortunate peon who thought they could get away with insulting House Dimitrescu.

She's in such a good mood that she's considering going easy on the idiot. Maybe removing their tongue would be enough of a warning?

Donna Dimitrescu

You don't really know how it's possible but apparently some people don't like Donna Beneviento? Some people think she's scary and unpleasant????

Wild. Can't imagine what that's like.

The two of you are honestly the sweetest, most toothrottingly adorable couple-- blushing when you hold each other's hands, sneaking glances at each other across rooms, giving each other kisses and forgetting whatever was on your mind...

Honestly, anybody who's critical of your relationship with your girlfriend is just a hater. Fuckers can pound sand😤

Still, you are pretty shy, so it takes a lot for you to defend yourself if someone comments about you. It can take a lot of courage to stand up against rude remarks, and sometimes it's easier to walk away.

Defending Donna, on the other hand?

The minute someone even thinks about dismissing her, you are ready to throw hands.

"My lovely girlfriend already said no, meaning you're either deaf or too stupid to pick up on simple social cues," you purse your lips and give the rude and pushy Villager a patronizing once over. "You and your opinion are equally useless. Get the fuck away from us."

Donna blinks.

She... Was not expecting this??? At all?? You're so nice! You always tell her about your attempts to avoid confrontation! What's going on??? How did you get the guts to say what she's always wanted to say?

Meanwhile, Angie is LIVING.

The little doll chimes in to assist you with the verbal homicide, working as a tag team to absolutely murder this moron. She's half partner, half hype man, and is so excited to do this with you. Normally, she has to protect Donna all by herself, but she's relieved and reassured that you stepped in first.

'USELESS IS TOO NICE, THOUGH! THAT IMPLIES THEY AREN'T A POINTLESS, RANCID, LONELY FREAK. THEY LOOK LIKE THEY CRY WHEN THEY MASTURBATE.'

You high five Angie, still glaring daggers at the unfortunate villager.

The two of you continue to ream into the villager, while Donna hovers nearby.

As surprised as she is, she's also grateful. She's only really ever had Angie to help shield her from insults and disrespect (and occasionally inducing horrifying hallucinations that make people claw off their own skin), but having you in her corner makes her feel safe.

Not to get totally sappy, but you're like her knight in shining armor in a lot of ways. And the fact you two are so similar is really motivating-- She wants to one day be confident enough to return the favor. Until then, she's happy to watch her two favorite people have fun insulting some stranger ❤️

Salvatore Moreau

With you being so shy, Salvatore is surprised how often he takes the lead in your relationship.

He's not normally all that outgoing, but you seem to bring out a side of him that's very protective. Whenever you have a bad day he wants to bundle you up and keep you safe from the world.

If he so much as holds your hand you start stuttering and avert your gaze. It creates a feedback loop where you both get flustered, but Moreau has never felt steadier. Despite your shyness, you make sure he knows how much you love him.

You're sweet as pie and twice as kind--Salvatore is the luckiest man in the world, nobody can convince him otherwise 💕💕

So it comes as a total shock that when a passing fisherman spits in your path and calls him a freak, your entire demeanor does a 180.

Your posture straightens and you look the villager dead in the eye, "I don't believe anyone asked your opinion."

Salvatore: 😳

This is not the time, and he totally knows it, but, uh, something about your tone??? Really does it for him???

While he's attempting to process why exactly he's starting to short circuit, you proceed to verbally shred this person to bits with clinical efficiency-- nothing is off limits.

They might try to defend themselves, but it's useless. You do not let up.

"Ugly? Monster? Bitch your teeth are throwing gang signs, don't throw stones from your shining glass house."

You insult their appearance, what they're holding, their smell-- you get so fucking mean that you might even make them cry.

Moreau is just lost right now, trying hard to figure out how exactly you were able to gain all of this confidence so quickly.

He's not upset! In fact he's very flattered! But, he also doesn't want you to get into a fight with some unimportant stranger. (After all, if they so much as throw a punch, they're straight up dead. Moreau is a patient man, but he's not that patient. You do not hurt his partner and live to tell the tale.)

He may a healer but...

Eventually he steps between you and the fisherman in an attempt to deescalate the situation, but you just kiss him on the cheek and step around him, determined to make your point.

Blushing hard, Moreau lets you do what you want. What can he say? Fish man likes himself a protective partner 💞

Karl Heisenberg

Magnet Man is not the most social guy to begin with, so any opportunities you have to stick up for him are already pretty slim.

He mostly knows you as the shy, sweet, easily flustered partner that lets out a cute squeak every time he sneaks up to hug you from behind.

Karl's honestly happy just to spend time with you all alone in the Factory. It's not the best or healthiest mindset, but he'd be perfectly content to only ever see you for the rest of his life. Spending time with anybody else feels like a boring waste in comparison.

But occasionally, you do head out into town with him. Heisenberg wants you to be safe so he doesn't do it often, but running errands with you is a weakness of his. It's domestic in a way that he's never experienced before.

He likes it ❤️

What he does not like is the shopkeeper starting to give their opinions on the quality of your relationship with him.

Most insults Karl will let slide because he doesn't particularly care. However if anyone makes a comment on how scared (shy) you look around him, how you must be being threatened into being with him, how poorly Lord Heisenberg is treating you...he won't stand for it.

But before his fingers can even twitch towards his hammer, you snap.

"You're clearly the blindest cocksucker I've ever met--so wipe the cum out of eyes and mind your own fucking business."

Karl does a double take.

He's heard you curse before, but quietly. The words coming out of your mouth are WILD right now, he has NEVER seen you so angry. You're defending him with the aggression of a wild animal, and it's simultaneously HILARIOUS, but for some reason he's also getting a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest?

He doesn't need you to protect him like this, but seeing you blatantly argue how much you love and cherish him in public reassures him in a way he didn't know he needed.

Still, hearing you call the shopkeeper "shit for brains" is the funniest thing that's happened in years.

Heisenberg starts laughing, and the more you shout at the idiot, the harder he laughs. Is it weird how hard he wants to kiss you right now?

Eventually, he just has to drag you away, cackling as you continue to shout insults at the unfortunate shopkeep. There's got to be an alley around here for some good old fashioned privacy 💕

#lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #donna beneviento x reader #salvatore moreau x reader #karl heisenburg x reader #resident evil village #re8 #resident evil 8 #resident evil #alcina dimitrescu #donna beneviento #salvatore moreau #angie beneviento #karl heisenberg #angie the doll #swearing #insults

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gossip-girl-of-middleearth · 3 years

Text

Speak my Language (Fellowship x Hurt! Reader)

Synopsis: After being ambushed by orcs, you are left alone at your isolated camp to bleed out. However, your loyal friend, a “tyger” from Far Harad, has other plans in mind—tracking down another camp nearby, comprised of nine warriors, in search of aid for you.

Pairings: a bit of Legolas x Reader. I’m a simp for him, okay?

Warnings: blood, mentions of an attack, hurt/comfort

The attack came too fast and too swiftly. Orcs weren’t supposed to reside in this area of the forest, or so you thought. It was almost as if something were driving them to your location, like dolphins chasing down fish to the shores of oceans.

Whatever may be the case, and whoever the fish in this scenario were, you were the one left severely injured.

It started with a flickering of your tyger’s ear. Comrade, as you named him, was an exotic breed of big cat, from the furthermost southern jungles of Far Harad, where the likes of oliphaunts also roamed.

You had met the large orange, striped cat on a mission to spring all kinds of animals free on the southern shores of Middle-earth. The Haradrim were responsible for this illegal smuggling trade, though you knew someone far larger was behind it.

A mystery was unfolding in Middle-earth before your eyes. Orcs in odd locations, secret illicit activities in dark harbours, and a growing disbalance in the ecosystem.

Setting the stampeding oliphaunts loose, the wooden crates on the foggy harbour soon burst into chaos. Men ran everywhere, both trying to save themselves and their jobs.

As ropes and hooks were cast into the grey flesh of the loudly trumpeting beasts, you snuck out. However, on your escape route, a rabid, hissing animal caught your attention.

You had never seen a cat like him before, and knew instantly he was out of sorts amongst the scenery of Middle-earth. What on earth would he need stripes to blend in with? You figured he was more used to tall savannahs, if anything.

Tentatively, and knowing all could go wrong for yourself, you unlatched the lock containing your soon-to-be friend.

He leapt out and crouched lowly before you, arching his back and sizing up your neck. His teeth were large and yellow at the gums, as he flashed them viciously.

However, making the first move, you slowly showed him your empty hands, and kneeled down. A slight change in his attitude was present, as his hisses ceased and his ears unpinned themselves.

And when a Haradrim man came at you, well, all that was left were ribbons of flesh and a new partner for you.

Ever your noble protector, Comrade lifted his head from your lap, where you were running your hands through his now twitching ears.

“What is it, boy?” you cooed, tracing the black stripes on his head.

A low growl had begun to form at the back of his throat, and you stilled your hand. Though a level of trust had been formed between you both throughout the three years you walked alongside him, he was still a wild animal at the end of the day.

You took into account the twitching of his tail, and your heart stopped. You always feared Comrade might one day turn around and attack you like he did to those Haradrim. Small housecats were bad enough with mood-swings as it was.

Eyeing up his large paws, where claws the size of small shanks appeared, you grew clammy. However, a distant snapping of a branch beyond the dark trees both settled and rose your nerves.

Glancing up from Comrade, you followed his keen line of sight past your little campfire. You stared for what felt like minutes, until another branch snapping sounded the alarms.

Comrade immediately lifted himself from your lap, and stood tall. The power in his sudden movement scared you, and you found yourself jolting to your own feet.

All you had on you was a small dagger, for you liked to think of yourself as a “wise pacifist”.

You drew it in front of yourself, and scared breaths racked your chest. Comrade was pacing the dirt in front of you, eyes forever trained on the forest, tail swishing.

And then, the attack came.

A slaughter occurred between the trees and before the fire, and though you managed to assist with many kills, Comrade in the end was the clear victor.

However, one tyger against ten orcs was not entirely fair.

In the aftermath, you found yourself with your back rested against a tree—your hand clutching a dagger in your abdomen.

Orcs bodies lay strewn around, some missing heads, others with their intestines spilled on the upturned dirt. Most, however, had their jugulars torn out.

Comrade had just put to rest his last orc, and turned his panting, blood-soaked snout back to you at the sound of a small whimper. The previously feral glint in his eyes subsided, as he observed your mewling state.

Your hand clutched the pommel of the dagger, as you struggled to not look at it—favouring to keep your eyes screwed shut instead, and your chin lifted high.

He immediately thudded one paw in front of the other, as he came to stand beside you. He sniffed the dagger, and made a small sound reminiscent of chuffing to your face. He nudged his nose with your cheek, willing you to look at him.

When you did, you found amber eyes, brimming with concern, looking back at you.

“I wasn’t fast enough,” you tried with a small smile, but mewled again through the pain of speaking.

He chuffed once more, and tried to inspect the dagger. You gently pushed his head away, knowing there wasn’t much he could do.

Understanding the severity of your state, he lifted his neck and stood tall. Flickering his ears in all directions, Comrade scoped out the forest. He could hear the sounds of night for many miles—owls hooting, mice rustling, squirrels climbing and…men chatting lowly around a crackling fire.

They did not sound like orcs, and turning his nose to the air above, Comrade knew instantly they were not. Instead, the scent of men and elves lingered in the breeze, and something new he hadn’t encountered before.

Without glancing back at you, he took off running through the woods.

Watching him leave in confusion, you knitted your brows. However, the throbbing split in your stomach soon burned away again, and you were left crying alone through bared teeth.

On the other side of the forest, just a few miles away, the Fellowship’s camp resided. The loss of Gandalf still rippled through the colleagues and friends like an unsettled lake, and not much was found beyond quiet chatter.

The topic, primarily, was of Lothlorien—the beautiful kingdom they had just reluctantly left.

Sat on a log, and grimacing as he ate rabbit meat off of a bone—quite different from the prepared salads with small chunks of chicken he had grown up with—Legolas watched the fire.

His fingers were sticky, and his nose was scrunched, as he attempted to eat said meat.

Next, Gimli’s chuckles filled the air.

The laughter silenced everyone, for it was the first time anyone had laughed since Moria.

Lifting his eyes, Legolas found Gimli laughing at him. “What is it?”

“A bit out of your comfort zone, aren’t we?” Gimli chuckled back, motioning to the prince’s fingers.

Legolas’ lips fell into a sarcastic frown. “That’s because I was actually raised with the idea of comfort to begin with.”

Gimli dismissively waved his hand. “All I’m hearing is pretty excuses.”

Legolas placed a sticky hand over his chest, and batted his lashes. “You think I’m pretty?”

A smirk grew on Gimli’s lips, as he pointed at the faint outline of grease on Legolas’ Lothlorien tunic.

Losing his own smirk, Legolas looked down at the clothing and sneered upon realizing his mistake.

Laughter rippled through the camp, and a few added on their own taunts in an effort to keep the happy atmosphere alive, even if at the prince’s expense.

However, Legolas had since tuned out. His head was over his shoulder, his pointed ears twitching, as he eyed off the forest behind. Distantly, snapping twigs and thudding paws could be heard.

“Don’t you think, Legolas?” Boromir laughed, slowly reeling the elf’s concerned attention back in to him. “Legolas? I said, don’t you—”

“Shh!” Legolas cut him off, whipping his head over his shoulder again.

Aragorn was the first to cease his relaxed nature, as he knew the cautious elf well-enough.

“Someone’s a bit of a soft—” Gimli had gone to say, before Legolas shushed him again.

Snapping his eyes to his friends, Legolas hastily whispered, “Do you not hear that?”

“We don’t have your—”

“Hush, let him speak,” Aragorn interjected, earning the obedience of the camp. “What is it, Legolas?”

“Something large and ambitious approaches from behind,” Legolas answered, scanning his eyes over his shoulder again.

Just as the elf did, the Fellowship dragged their sights along the trees. Slowly, following Legolas’ words and now actions, the entire camp rose to their feet and clutched their weapons.

The hobbits all nervously eyed one another, as the four stronger warriors stood in front. They each all watched the trees, and their hearts pounded faster, for they, too, could now hear what Legolas was explaining.

Loud thumps reached their ears, as did beastly panting. Legolas drew an arrow, and aimed it in preparation.

And then, Comrade burst into the camp.

The hobbits screamed in shock—in fact, both Gimli and Boromir shouted, too.

The tyger paced before them all, chuffing loudly in communication. Legolas, understanding all living things, heard the tyger speak.

Please! I need your help! My friend, she’s hurt—wounded by orcs!

Legolas lowered his arrow, much to the horror of the others.

“What are you doing?” Boromir screeched. “Shoot it down! It’s rabid! Look at the blood coating its mouth!”

“It is orc blood,” Legolas slowly drew out, knitting his brows in the direction of the tyger. “And he says he needs our help?”

Aragorn glanced at Legolas wide-eyed, and they shared a look—one dripping in superior knowledge.

Legolas made a show of disarming himself of his bow, and spoke back to the tyger in a way only elves could.

Take us to her.

The tyger turned around instantly, and began running into the woods. Aragorn and Legolas followed.

“Wait,” Pippin exclaimed in confusion, as everyone left him behind. “Has he always been able to speak with animals?! Did everyone else know this but me?!”

“Hurry up, Pippin!”

Comrade had left you twenty minutes ago, and you felt an uncontrollable shiver run through your body. It was a shiver that, despite being close to the fire, was continuous.

Your teeth chattered, and your stomach coiled at the blood soaking you. It was all over the front of your tunic, and continuing to spread. You hadn’t removed the dagger as of yet—too afraid of both the consequences and the pain simultaneously.

You felt both dizzy and tired, and only wanted a nap. Just as you were beginning to close your eyes, frantic thudding in the distance could be heard.

Weakly, you turned your eyes to the trees Comrade had left through, and waited for either your friend or more orcs to appear.

However, what you were not expecting, was a blonde elf to burst through the dark with your tyger.

The tall elf skidded to a stop a few yards before you, and gasped sharply. His widened eyes raked over your paling, clammy body in alarm.

“Oh my goodness!” he cussed, before throwing his eyes over his shoulder. “Aragorn! Come quickly!”

Next, a man burst into view. Behind him, another man, dwarf and four hobbits followed. Though, for all you knew, they were children.

White dots filled your vision, and you soon felt very delirious, as if in a dream.

The elf rushed forwards, and fell to his knees beside you. He brushed your hair out of your face to observe your half-lidded eyes, where he then spoke.

“Y/n? Y/n, are you all right? Your friend, Comrade, told me of you. Can you hear me?”

All you could make out of his face were two brilliantly blue eyes. A white, angelic light encompassed him otherwise, and the blonde hair certainly didn’t help.

You garnered a sort of dazed smile, as you scanned his blinding face. “You’re an angel, aren’t you? Sent from above? Oh thank goodness—I thought I was going to go alone.”

Listening to your soft voice, the brunette man with greasy hair dropped beside the elf.

“Her strength fails and her light fades,” Aragorn commented. He scanned his eyes over your wound. “I shall use athelas to treat the bleeding, but…this may be beyond us.”

Legolas looked at Aragorn in horror, before looking down at you again. Two deaths on his hands in such a short amount of time? The immortal elf couldn’t—wouldn’t—process it.

“We are not yet too far from Lothlorien,” Legolas pointed out, studying your tired face. “We can turn around and leave her in the hands of Galadriel and her kin. They will heal her.”

“We haven’t time to double-back and risk the orcs,” Boromir pointed out.

Next, Legolas gestured at all the strewn bodies of the camp. “It appears our fault she dies in the first place. She felt safe enough to camp in these woods, and rightfully so, but we brought the orcs with us. We must help her. She’s our duty now.”

“Legolas is right,” Aragorn agreed, crushing athelas in his hands with water from his pouch. “The orcs are only in these woods because they track us. Legolas, you are the fastest here and know these trees second-best to me. You will take her back to Lothlorien and then take the journey three times faster to catch up with us.”

Legolas nodded his head in understanding, and felt your hand. It was cold, shivering and sweaty. He swallowed his nerves.

“You might want to hold her further,” Aragorn quietly pointed out to Legolas, gesturing to your hand.

The elf noticed the prepared athelas paste, and the ranger’s hand hovering over the intruding dagger’s pommel. Next, Aragorn spoke to you.

“Y/n, my name is Aragorn. I am going to help heal you, and then Legolas here will rush you back to Lothlorien. I am going to remove the dagger to decrease further injury. It will hurt for a moment. Do you understand?”

“Legolas?” you repeated in confusion, looking up at the aforementioned prince. “Oh, yes—him. He’s an angel.”

Aragorn smiled briefly, especially at the creeping blush on his friend’s pointed ears, until you looked back at him and took into account his dirty presentation. “You, on the other hand, are not an angel.”

Comrade, having been pacing the dirt on your free side, came to lay beside you, recognising what was about to happen next.

Aragorn politely curled his lips at your delirious insult, and quickly tore the dagger from your abdomen.

As if supporting a woman through birth, Legolas’ mewls were louder than your own, for the hand of yours he held clenched tightly.

Aragorn got to work quickly, and began applying the athelas to your now bleeding wound. You cried softly, as you felt the pain both grow and lessen.

Finding comfort through your dizzy haze in the thumbpad stroking your knuckles, you squeezed the same hand again, and were pleasantly surprised to find it squeezing back.

Gimli, Boromir and the hobbits watched on—nervously observing both the tyger lying beside you, and your hurt form.

“Lothlorien is a night’s run behind us. She needs a different tunic to reduce the risk of infection,” said Aragorn, using a makeshift cloth to wipe the blood away from you.

Legolas pressed his lips into a thin line, and nodded. He briefly let go of your hand, much to your vocal discomfort, and grabbed the bottom hems of his tunic. He lifted the green material over his head, and was left with nothing but a long-sleeved, white undershirt.

As Aragorn wrapped your chest with what he could find on him that’d temporarily work as a bind, Legolas patiently waited.

After your wound was tended to, Aragorn leant over to speak with you. “Your wound is dressed, Y/n. Legolas will now take care of you until Lothlorien. You are in good, capable hands. I promise.”

You mustered the strength to nod back, despite white dots still filling your vision.

Aragorn clasped Legolas’ shoulder and nodded, to which he nodded back. Then, the ranger turned and told the rest of the Fellowship to head back to camp.

Having ensured everyone was out of sight, Legolas looked down at you again.

“May I please change your tunic? I will close my eyes, but it has to be done—the blood will lead to infection if not dealt with.”

However, you stilled gazed up at him with a silly smile. Considering all he wore was now white, you believed your suspicions of him being an angel correct.

After a moment, his words finally drifted through your mind, like a lone leaf on a lazy river, and you nodded.

Legolas raised a hand to the hem of your tunic, and hooked his fingers underneath, but was halted by the sudden growling and standing of Comrade.

You dare touch her in such a state? I sought you out for help!

I am an elven prince, mellon. Trust me when I say; it is not even remotely possible in my genetic nature to do such a thing.

Well, trust me when I say; it is most definitely in my genetic nature to go for the jugular—always.

Understood, but you must let me help her. Have we not done so already? Let me complete assisting her, and then you shall follow me to Lothlorien.

The snarling lips of the tyger curled for a minute, as he stared across at the determined elf over your body—face to face.

Slowly, his growls died.

Fine. Just know, however, I am watching you every step of the way.

Well, that makes one of us.

As he promised, Legolas closed his eyes. He carefully, but swiftly lifted your blood-soaked tunic and tossed it aside.

Fumbling for a few minutes, as he did so blind, Legolas dressed you in his own green tunic. It was large on you, more like a short dress, but did the job of concealing your wounded form.

At some point, you had nearly drifted off to sleep, but a gentle cooing of Legolas brought you back.

“Hey, you must stay awake for now, all right? I am going to carry you to a lovely kingdom, and you will be taken care of. All I ask in return is that you keep me company with conversation the whole way. Can you please do that for me?”

Exhaling past your nose through your fatigue, you fluttered your hazy eyes open again.

Searching Legolas’ own, you nodded.

“Okay,” you promised.

“Good girl,” Legolas replied. He then gently scooped you into his arms like a bride, and checked in with Comrade.

Are you a fast runner?

Is that even a question?

To further his point, Comrade sprinted off into the trees, leaving Legolas jogging behind him. And, just as you promised, you spoke softly to him the whole way—mostly of his “angelic eyes”—and he delivered on his promise, of quite literally delivering you to Lothlórien.

Surprising Legolas most, however, was the new promise you made after healing by the aid of Galadriel’s hand, just a few days after your arrival.

Upon learning of what exactly was disturbing your ecosystem in Middle-earth, you told Legolas he would not be making the journey back to his friends alone, for he had gained two new ones.

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kim-seung-mo · 2 years

Text

She Doesn't Know

Kim Seungmin x fem!Reader

She doesn't know you like I do...but that doesn't matter, does it?

♩drabble, angst, no specific-au, seungmin getting drunk and crying, hella unrequited love, pure sadness tbh

♩♩word count: 1.1k

♩♩♩A/N: inspired by my dear sunny and this song actually

I don't know why this song suddenly came to mind when I saw your request. So I (tried) to incorporate the lyrics… But since the original song is in Chinese, the translation might be a bit weird

(G/N= the other girl's name)

When Kim Seungmin called you, you admitted that there was a glimmer of hope in your heart.

"G/N ……"

Only that glimmer of hope was completely extinguished only a second later.

"Seungmin?"

"Why don't you love me back?"

It was loud in the background on his end, like he was in a bar. Even though you were called by him by that woman's name, you were more concerned with his well-being than your heartache at the moment.

"Seungmin, where are you?"

"Where have I not done enough? Why don't you love me back? Why? Why? Why?"

You heard yourself in his words.

You and Seungmin were both pathetic in the same way. Both fell in love with people who didn't love you back.

But you stubbornly believed that you were different. Because the person he fell in love with wasn't worth it.

"It's you…… You've come to see me in the end…… Surely you still care about me, you do love me, no?"

That person, she didn't understand him at all, but he was so head over heels in love with her, still loving her after all these years. And you, too, kept watching him. Watching him hurt and cry over and over again for that girl, getting drunk in bars like he did today, until he passed out at three in the morning, unable to hold himself together.

It was you who finally took him back home to look after him.

That girl never once worried for him.

Tonight he had been drinking for who knows how long and how much, so much that he confused you for her. He tenderly cupped your face and looked at you with a look of love that he had never had for you before.

He spoke sweet words of love to you, repeating "I love you" over and over again, line after line, each stabbing you in the heart like a dagger. Because you knew those words were not for you, they were for her. All that you had now, all that you were able to enjoy, belonged to her.

You fell silent, not knowing how to answer him. Should you say "yes"? As her? No, that would only make him more upset when he learns the truth. Should you tell him who you are? But, although none of those sweet words belonged to you, you still enjoyed them, you were willing to lie to yourself and tell yourself that in this moment, you were her, and that Seungmin loved you. Was it a bad decision? Was it a selfish one? You did not know. All you knew was that this was perhaps the only time you would ever hear those words coming from him.

Just for tonight, just for now, you'd pretend to be her.

With just such a simple statement, Seungmin's eyes shone with a light you had never seen before. Just because she didn't blame him. Just because the words sounded kind of gentle.

"Why aren't you saying anything? Did I do something wrong? I can fix it, don't not talk to me…"

Seungmin, whom you held dear as a cherished gem, begged another person in such a lowly manner.

"You didn't do anything wrong…" You couldn't help but say in her position.

You didn't even know if Seungmin, who was facing the woman in such a lowly manner at this moment, was doing so because he was drunk or because he usually spoke to her in such a tone.

You felt defensive for him. Why should that girl be able to treat him like that? Why must that girl keep hurting him like that? All she ever left Seungmin with was her back. She never said anything to Seungmin, not even a single "I love you". She only made Seungmin cry alone at night, his eyes red with tears, clutching the fabric on his chest so hard that he could hardly breathe. She only lied and cheated Seungmin over and over again.

Your Seungmin had been a smart one, but it seemed like he couldn't see through that girl at all, getting fooled by her again and again. You even suspected that he might have known he was being cheated on, and he might have loved her nevertheless despite knowing he was being cheated on. She clearly treated love like a game, she clearly didn't love Seungmin at all. She doesn't know anything about Seungmin.

She doesn't know his birthday, his favorite colour, his favorite music. She doesn't know what he likes and doesn't like to eat. She doesn't know what he likes to do in his downtime, what kind of movies he likes to watch. She doesn't know where his favorite restaurant is, what his favorite brand of clothes is, what size shoes he wears, she doesn't know anything.

But who cared if she didn't know? What difference did it make if you knew? Even when she didn't know anything about him. Even if you knew every detail of Seungmin's life, she's the one Seungmin loves. Not you, her.

"But if I didn't do anything wrong, why don't you love me?"

You let him lie in your bed, tenderly stroking his head, wiping away his tears with your fingers, letting him cling helplessly to your arms and not letting you go. The same words repeated over and over again.

Yes, Seungmin, why?

Why couldn't you walk into his heart when you were the person who knew him best?

Red cheeks and foggy eyes from alcohol, messy bangs and eyes wet from crying. Dry, chapped lips and a trembling body. Praying eyes looking at you, wanting you to give him an answer.

"Why don't you love me?"

"But I love you so much……"

"Tell me that you love me, please, tell me that I am important to you…… Lie or not, please just tell me……"

You couldn't tell him. At least not as that girl.

"Sleep, Seungmin, everything will be fine when you wake up…" And so you simply left a light kiss on his forehead, then turned around, attempting to leave.

He held out his hand to keep you from leaving, crying out the other girl's name, constantly reminding you that it wasn't you he wanted to keep at all, but her.

The sound of his heartbroken voice, the sound of pain, made you hurt too, your chest aching to the point that you were suffocating. But you left anyway. Closing the door, leaving him alone in your room, crying hopelessly.

The words still repeated under his breath.

Why?

"Why don't you understand?"

"Why don't you understand how much you mean to me?"

"Why can't you just see me?"

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captains-simp · 3 years

Text

(Not me accidentally posting this when it was half done)

I knew I could count on you @wndrcarol for a jock!Carol request🥳 also....👀I heard you like Sharon

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

1.9k words

Warnings: harassment, degrading, face slapping, strap on sex, spitting, choking and hints of overstimulation

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You groaned in frustration when you finished checking the kitchen for your girlfriend. Everytime you went to a party with her the same thing happened.

You'd arrive, take a while to get comfortable and as soon as you did Carol would be whisked away by her friends leaving you to stand awkwardly in the corner. You really needed to get more friends. The ones you had never seemed to come to those parties.

You wandered outside onto the wooden decking area to get some fresh air and leant against the fence as you lazily scanned the area for Carol. You knew she wasn't out there, you had already checked.

Your eyes landed on a brunet who had been watching you carefully but the moment you locked eyes he scurried away back inside, not wanting to be seen near you. You smiled at the memory of the last time you had met at a party.

"There was only 10 seconds of the game left but I kicked the ball as hard as I could and it was on the last second of the game that it scored and we won!" Tyler exclaimed before taking another sip of his bear and gleamed at the memory.

"That's great." You said as you continued to scan the room for Carol.

"It was, you should'a been there." Tyler said as he looked back at you, or more he looked above the line of your low hanging top. You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

"I was at Carol's game." Tyler didn't react to the mention of your girlfriend. It wasn't like he didn't know you were dating, everyone knew. Carol made sure of that.

"Unlucky, mine was a lot more interesting." He declared with a smug grin. A brief memory of Carol fucking you in the showers after that game flashed through your mind and you couldn't contain your smile at knowing how wrong the guy infront of you was.

Unfortunately, he thought that smile was at him.

"I had a pretty great game before that too. But it's getting kinda loud in here, wanna go somewhere more private?" He smirked in an extremely unattractive way.

"I'm good, I need to go find Carol." You said quickly, wanting to get the hell away from Tyler.

You hadn't seen Carol in a while. It was her idea to go to the party, it was an environment she thrived in. You, however, did not. It wasn't your scene and you didn't know anyone there, not well at least.

At some point through the mass of bodies, loud music and numerous people trying to get Carol to do shots with them or be on their beer pong team, you had been seperated from the Captain and you hadn't seen her since.

"Come on, I'm sure there's some spare rooms upstairs." There was a slight slur to his voice that made it even worse when he approached you and put a heavy hand on your waist.

"Get off me, Tyler!" You snapped and pushed his hand away but he continued with a frown.

"What? Don't you want this-" He was cut off when a fist shot out beside you and punched him across the face. Tyler staggered back, gripping his bleeding nose, as the people around you cheered loudly, oblivious to what had happened prior.

"Get your fucking hands off my girlfriend." Carol demanded as she continued to advance towards a cowarding Tyler who could only hold his hands out in defence. You pulled Carol away with to turn her towards you and Tyler scrambled to his feet to flee.

"Are you okay?" Concerned and familiar eyes met yours that instantly eased your worry. Carol brought her hands gently up to your face as she scanned you closely and you were surprised to see that she looked completely sober.

You nodded your head and breathed out a yes before you took her right hand away from your face to examine it carefully. The dull lighting in the room made it hard to make out but you could feel that there was nothing out of place.

"Come on." Carol said as she took your hand. "Let's get out of here."

Tyler had a bandage across his nose for a while. He had avoided you like the plague ever since, clearly have some sense in him.

"Want some company?" Came a voice from beside you. You glanced sideways and saw Sharon fall easily into place next to you. She mirrored your position of leaning against the barrier and gave you a knowing smile.

"Thanks." You breathed out, feeling kind of embarrassed someone had noticed Carol always seemed to ditch you at parties.

"No luck finding the girlfriend?" Sharon teased.

"Is it that obvious?" You asked but weren't sure you really wanted to know.

"You look like a lost puppy without her." Sharon chuckled making you flush. Maybe you were too clingy.

"She's the golden retriever lesbian." You corrected making Sharon laugh more.

"That seems about right." She went to move closer to you but a group of jocks spilled out onto the decking, without Carol among them.

"Fuck this." She huffed and took your hand to lead you over to the garden swing bench. Your hand felt like it was burning when she held it to pull you along. Although her hands were physically soft, they weren't the kind of softness you felt with Carol. It didn't make you feel warm inside, it made you feel uneasy. But it was a party, you had to hold onto people to move about.

Part of your brain pointed out that there was only a few people in the garden so there was really no need for Sharon to navigate you through it, while the rest of you really did just want some company.

Sharon sat down on the bench and you followed, feeling as though you could relax a bit more on the edge of the garden.

"You know, I think Carol's a very lucky gal to have you." Sharon said as she watched you closely. You laughed nervously as you noticed how close she was. You found yourself searching the garden for Carol again but Sharon lighting held your jaw and turned it back towards her.

"Pretty thing like you must surely be a lot of fun to play with." She smirked as her other hand crept onto your thigh.

"Um I d-don't-"

"Shh, you don't need to talk." Sharon cooed as she tilted your chin up more when you struggled to keep eye contact. The blonde glanced at your lips and licked her own before leaning forward slowly.

Until a strong hand wrapped itself around your bicep and yanked you from the bench.

You stumbled into a fuming blonde who was glaring at Sharon. You blushed deeply as you realised how it looked at what Sharon was most likely trying to do.

"You keep your fucking hands off of my girlfriend, Carter." Carol spat as her fists clenched.

"You really shouldn't leave her unattended?" Sharon said, amused by Carol's anger. "Who knows what could have happened." She winked at you and looked away instantly.

Carol scoffed simply as she continued to glare daggers at the woman infront of you.

"In your fucking dreams, she's mine." She all but growled as she pulled you away. You yelped as you felt her nails dig into your skin but didn't have the nerve to ask her to loosen her grip.

Carol pulled you through the crowded house and up to an empty bedroom that she shoved you inside.

"Did you enjoy that? Whoring yourself out to Sharon?" Carol asked as she threw you to the bed and started undoing her belt.

"No I-" You started as you went to sit up but Carol put a firm hand to your chest and pushed you back flat against the bed.

"Shut up, slut. I don't want to hear another sound out of you unless you're saying my name." She warned as she pulled her strap out and pulled your panties down.

You looked at her wide eyed, never seeing her so worked up before sex. Sure, you'd have a lot of needy, desperate sex and the occasional quickly, but she never showed so little regard to you before.

"What? Think I'm going to be nice to you and take my time? Want me to touch you gently? Whores don't deserve to be treated nicely. You don't get to prep my cock either." Carol taunted as she pushed the tip of the head in and kept it there as she stared down at you. "You'll have to just take it how it is, not that you'll have much of an issue. You've always got such a sloppy cunt."

"Please, Captain." You found yourself whining earning you a harsh slap to your left cheek. Your head whipped to the side and your cheek burned but Carol didn't seem to care.

"Who are you begging to fuck you?" Carol asked as she rocked her hips slowly as a reminder that you only had the very tip inside you.

"You Carol, I want my Captain's cock!" You cried out desperately.

"Only mine?" The blonde mused as she inched a bit more of the strap in.

"Yes Carol, only your cock. I only want you." You whined truthfully. Carol knew that of course, she knew you were incredibly loyal. That's what made the game so fun.

"Please! Please Carol I need you so bad. I want my Captain deep inside me, please please." You begged and felt as though you could cry in frustration.

"You really know how to plead like a whore, don't you. Did you learn that somewhere? Or are you just a natural cock slut?" She asked as she slammed her hips forward and filed you up with the strap at every angle.

You moaned loudly and threw your head back against the pillows as Carol set about her harsh and unrelenting pace. The thick strap filled you up entirely with every thrust. It didn't take long for your eyed to water from the sheer amount of pleasure she was giving to you so roughly.

Carol grunted as she pounded the strap into you and her grip on your wrists tightened, letting you know she wouldn't let go anytime soon.

"See? You've got such a sloppy pussy. And it's all mine." Carol spoke as she glanced down to look at your pussy taking her strap so well.

"You're gonna cum for me now. You're going to cum all over my cock." Carol demanded as she noticed your signs of approaching orgasm.

You cried out at the force of each of Carol's thrusts until it became too much to bear and you crashed over the edge without much to hold on to. As you did so, Carol brought her hand up and wrapped it tightly around your throat before giving it a quick squeeze.

"You belong to me, slut." Carol said as she continued thrusting mercilessly. She noted your blissed expression and open mouth and gripped your jaw tightly, much rougher than Sharon had. She pulled your face down with your mouth still open and spat. You moaned as you tasted her saliva on your tongue and around your lips. You swallowed it eagerly making Carol beam internally, not that she could let you know that.

"Cum again for me whore. I get to do what I want with you. So you're going to keep cuming until I get bored. I don't give a fuck if you get tired." She spoke next to your ear, poison dripping from her words.

"So fucking cum."

#carol danvers #captain marvel #brie larson #captain marvel imagines #captain marvel x reader #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers imagines #marvel #captain marvel smut #carol danvers smut #jock!carol danvers #jock!carol

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