#i can only hope they’ll kill me on sight when i do

[cozage]

you wanna do continue the one you did where the s/o gets captured? Get them rescuuuued. please and thank you :D

A/N: I actually have two of these requests in my inbox, and these got really long because I’m insane and have to write every detail, so I’m going to break these up into three different posts so people aren’t stuck reading and scrolling through a 10k fic on tumblr. Ace and Law’s will be coming soon!

Characters: female reader x Luffy

Cw:  angst, drugging, near-death experience

Total word count: 2.3k

Summary: You've been captured by marines, and the Strawhats work to get you back. (Followup from this request)

Rescued by Pirates - Luffy

Luffy stood at the top of the cliff, staring down the Marine fleet in the bay. There were ten ships, and you were on one of them. Captured. Alone. He knew you were fighting, but there’s only so much you could do in a locked prison cell with sea prism cuffs. 

“I’m coming.” Luffy muttered, hoping the wind would carry his words to you. “Wait for me. Don’t stop fighting.”

“Luffy, get down!” Nami pulled the captain back over the ridge, keeping him out of sight from the scouts. “If a Marine sees you this whole stealth operation is over!”

Luffy groaned and slumped to the ground. “I don’t even know why this has to be a stealth operation! If we just start smashing everything-”

“They’ll kill her.” Sanji said, and Luffy grew quiet. “If they know we’re coming, they’ll execute her now and report it to the news coo after.”

“They probably have people waiting outside her cell to do it as soon as the call is made,” Franky admitted coldly. “They don’t want another repeat of…” he trails off, and everyone knows what he’s going to say. 

They don’t want another repeat of Ace. Luffy embarrassed the entire World Government when he broke into Impel Down, broke out of Impel Down, and then sailed to Marineford and freed Ace from his shackles. 

“It’s possible that’s why they’re still here.” Nami’s voice was worried as she spoke everyone’s thoughts. “They’re baiting us so they can kill her. They don’t want to transport her just to have Luffy embarrass them again.”

“It would make sense why they haven’t taken off yet,” Brook added. 

“Or they’re waiting for backup,” Sanji countered. “She’s a dangerous pirate, but the Navy always prefers public executions. Especially with the new leader having a personal vendetta against Luffy, he’ll want to kill her publicly if possible. I’m sure of it.”

“Then we have to go!” Luffy started to stand to his feet, frustrated with the lack of action, but Nami quickly pulled him back down. 

“Let Robin and Brook handle this first part! We have to find her first before you start smashing everything to bits!”

Luffy hated waiting. Especially when there's nothing he could do to pass the time. But finally, after about 30 minutes of silence, Robin opened her eyes. 

“She’s on the fourth ship in the back with the red and yellow tailwind sail. Under deck, in a prison cell. Shackles on her arms and legs, and a neck collar.”

Luffy’s eyes peeked over the cliffside to find the ship Robin was describing. He located it, and sprang forward to jump over the cliff, but strong arms held him back. 

“Zoro, let me go! We know where she is!” He struggled to break free from the swordsman's grasp. “We have to go get her!”

“Hang on Luffy, we need a plan before we just jump into action!”

--

The guard change comes early today, which you find odd. Normally the Marines are dragging their feet to stand guard over your cell, but then you spot green hair poking out from the marine cap, the man next to him with a very familiar scar across his cheek, and your heart begins to beat faster. 

“So, the keys?” Zoro holds his hand out to the Navy officer watching over you, who laughs in his face. 

“This must be your first time imprisoning a pirate, kid,” the old man says. “We don’t keep the keys anywhere near the prison. You know how easy it would be for someone to knock out a guard and take them? Let me show you the ropes, kid.”

The old man and his colleague turn to face you for the first time in hours, ushering Zoro and Luffy to look at you now. You can see Luffy is in visible pain just from looking at you. 

Your arms and legs were each shackled to the wall, and you had a contraption around your neck that looked strikingly similar to the ones the Celestial Dragons used on their slaves. Blood caked your hair and trickled down your face. Your body was littered in scratches and bruises, your clothes torn from whatever battle had happened that Luffy wasn’t there for. 

“Each one of those shackles has a different key, and that neck collar too, as well as the key to the jail cell itself. Each of those keys are on a different ship, and we’ve got instructions to throw the keys into the harbor if we catch a glimpse of a Strawhat approaching the ship. 

“The best part, though,” he continues, with a hungry malice in his eyes. He raises his hand to point a finger at your neck. “That collar has a fun little detonator. The Vice Admiral has the control button if it comes to that. And the collar itself administers a sedative every hour on the hour, and gives another dose if someone touches the bars.” 

He smacked the bars for good measure, and you flinched as you felt a pinch in your neck. 

“Honestly it’s a miracle she’s still awake. We like to hit the bars every now and then just to keep her calm. Don’t want her causing a scene now, do we?”

You were trying your hardest not to stare at Luffy. You can see the rage consuming his body as he realizes what an insurmountable task it is to save you. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head viciously to relay a simple message. Run. Don’t save me.

But you know he won’t listen. He never has. Not with Robin or Ace or Sanji or anyone else he’s saved against their will. And he certainly won’t do it with you either. 

“I see a pretty big flaw in this whole design,” Zoro said, staring at the cell you were in. You could see he was enraged as well, but he was hiding it better than Luffy. 

“Oh yeah? And what’s that, kid?”

“Can’t they just cut it?”

The old Marine let out a hardy laugh at his question. “Sea prism stone is the hardest substance in the world. Nobody can cut through that, I don't care if it’s Dracule Mihawk himself!”

“Oh, Mihawk can cut Sea Prism Stone.” The green-haired man gave a devilish smirk to the Marine.

You braced yourself. You knew what was coming. Zoro only had two swords with him, but it would be enough. 

You heard a whirlwind of air swirl around you, and you could feel the weight on your arms get lighter. There were several pinches in your neck, and you could feel yourself involuntarily slip into unconsciousness. 

--

Zoro had put just a bit too much power into his swings to free you, and the cuts ripped through the ship behind you. He then turned to the marines, wickedly smiling at them. 

“Told ya.” He smacked the younger one with the hilt of the sword and the marine crumpled to the ground, but the older marine was fast and dodged Zoro’s attack. The Marine locked Zoro into a battle of swords, occupying his ability to get the other chains off of you.

Luffy sprang into action, running to grab you. He screamed your name as he ran to you, jumping over sea prism stone rubble and other debris to reach you. He knew Zoro hadn’t hurt you, but you were slumped against the ship wall, and he couldn’t help but think about how fragile you looked. He shook you, desperately trying to wake you up. 

And then Luffy heard a beeping sound, coming from the collar around your neck. The same sound that he was helpless against in Sabaody. “ZORO!” He screamed, holding you tight. 

“Forgot to mention,” the older marine grinned back at the swordsman, keeping him locked in a battle. “Tamper with the chains too much and the collar will detonate, even without a push from the button.”

Zoro tightened his muscles in horror. “Luffy, get it off of her!”

“I hear she’s the weakness of Strawhat Luffy. Let’s watch and see, shall we? Perhaps he’ll have an even worse reaction than in Marineford.” The marine's gaze was on Luffy now, eager to see him snap. 

Luffy ignored the weight of what failure meant for you. He focused, letting his Haki flow through his body like he had seen Rayleigh do in Sabaody. He grabbed the collar from around your neck and squeezed, snapping it in half, and threw it away from you. In the same motion, Luffy turned and glared at the Marine, who instantly crumpled to the ground, knocked out by Luffy’s Conqueror's Haki. 

“Luffy, we have to go,” Zoro’s voice was urgent. There was commotion above them coming from the deck. It was clear the Navy was alerted to their presence. But Luffy was ignoring him, desperately trying to shake you awake. 

“Come on, Luffy,” Zoro insisted, stepping over the rubble. He quickly cut each of the shackles off your legs.  “She’ll be fine. I’ll carry her, you punch things. Let's go.”

Zoro put a sword between his teeth and picked you up into his arms. He saw the darkness in Luffy’s eyes, and stood back to let his captain destroy the people who had tried to take you away from him. 

Luffy spared no ship. Once he saw Zoro and you were safe on the beach, he unleashed his full might against the ten ships in the harbor. His crew could hear his screams of rage from the shoreline, his pent up fear of losing you spilling out into his attacks. 

When he was finally finished destroying the ships, he came back to the shore and sat silently among his crew. He pulled your unconscious body into his lap, stroking your hair softly. He stared down at you for a long time, just watching the rise and fall of your chest, his eyesight fuzzy from tears. 

As the sun was starting to sink over the horizon, Nami finally spoke up. “We should go.” Her voice was hoarse, and her cheeks were damp with tears. 

“Not until she wakes up.”

Sanji sighed, pulling out a few small rations of food to give the crew while they waited. Luffy didn’t eat, he just combed his fingers through your hair, willing you to wake up. 

Nightfall came, and you were still unconscious. The crew could see lights on the horizon. Marine ships that were supposed to lead you to Impel Down. 

“Luffy, we need to go,” Sanji insisted. Luffy refused to respond, his eyes only watching you. 

“She’ll be more comfortable on the ship, Luffy,” Chopper said, trying to coax the captain back to the Sunny. “She can sleep in a bed and we can monitor her more closely.”

“It’s better for her to be back on the ship,” Sanji agreed. “And we need to get moving.”

Luffy finally nodded, giving in to his crew's request. If it was better for you, then he wouldn’t be selfish. It was selfishness that got you in this position in the first place. If he hadn’t run off on his own, if he had just stayed with the group like Nami had told him too, this might’ve never happened.

He held you close to him and walked back to the ship with the rest of the crew, not speaking. When they got back to the ship, Luffy set you down in the infirmary and stood in the corner, letting Chopper take care of you.

“Let me know if anything changes in her status.” And with that, Chopper left the two of you alone in the infirmary. Luffy sat in the chair next to your bed, holding your hand and watching you sleep, waiting for you to come back to him. 

--

Before you open your eyes, you can hear the heart rate monitor beeping; you can feel the harsh light against the back of your eyelids. Beside you, you can hear soft, even breathing of someone who is sleeping. Luffy. You’d know the sound of his breathing anywhere. You feel relief wash over you, knowing you’re safe with your crew. 

The light is still too bright for your eyes, so your hand reaches out blindly, searching for Luffy. Your hand finds his head, and you pat him gently. You don’t intend to wake him, but he instantly stirs from his sleep. 

“Y/n?” His voice is groggy as his head lifts up. 

“Hi,” you whisper, your eyes still closed. “Can you turn off the-”

His body crashes into you, cutting off your question, and you wrap your arms around him in an embrace. You can hear his broken sobs of relief fill the air. “I was so scared,” he sobbed into your shoulder. “You weren’t waking up.”

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you say soothingly, trying to calm him down. You crack your eyes open a bit, trying to adjust to the light in the room. “Thanks to you, captain.”

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x you #one piece x reader #monkey d luffy #monkey d. luffy #luffy #luffy x reader #luffy x y/n #✧˚law✧˚

[calypsocolada]

MR. CHAINSAW MAN | denji

synopsis: chainsaw man saves you and you feel very thankful... request: "hi! can i ask for a denji one? like, one where he and the reader (fem!) are classmates and friends, it's late at night and they're texting, then the reader says 'me after saying i would give chainsaw man a big fat kiss if he asked' and denji is all shocked and stuff because she said that to him (but she doesnt even know he's chainsaw man) and the next day at school he acts all weird and giddy?" authors note: hii!! thank you so much to whoever requested this... this one goes to you! this turned out a lot longer than I thought... also this is another attempt at smut... big emphasis on attempt... i hope you all enjoy! ps. this could be a two parter if you all enjoy... keep an eye out cw: aged up to 20's, p in v, smut, fem reader, loss of virginites (both reader and denji), dirty talk, some gore, utterly romantic!denji, idiots in love, slightly clueless reader, touch starved!denji, not proofread wc: 5.4k

--------------------------------------------------------

It started with a simple act of service. Well… a simple act of saving your life. When you were younger you idolized heroes. The ones in the tv to be exact. Heroes in cloaks and tights, the ones that swung from buildings and punched alien invaders into outer space. Those heroes were cool but those heroes weren’t real. The hero that you saw on the television a few months ago, the one that was practically a celebrity… that one was nothing like the fictional heroes you loved dearly. Chainsaw Man he called himself. He was exactly what his name was, a man with chainsaws on his body. Most of the time he fought devils the fight wasn’t shown on live tv because of how gruesome and bloody the scenes were after he was done. But you saw pictures online and to say it might’ve haunted your dreams was an understatement. You weren’t entirely sure how you felt about this Chainsaw Man. 

That was until you met him.

You’d been walking home when it happened. Your classmate Denji was walking with you earlier but you two parted ways the closer you got to your house. 

Denji was… unruly. 

You were forced to partner up with him on a project. Denji was brash, loud and certainly had zero qualms with asking for your number the second you walked over to him to talk about the project. You gave him your number but asked that he only text about the project… which he didn’t do. He texted you pretty much every hour. He’d send memes that unfortunately were pretty funny. He’d text pictures of himself working out and then say it was an accident. He sent a picture of a hamburger once and said he was thinking of you. You weren’t really sure what that meant but the hamburger did look pretty delicious. He’d ask how your day was and ask to meet for lunch. You’re not entirely sure how it happened but suddenly you two were somewhat friends.  

Which is why when you saw multiple reports of devil sightings in your area you texted him and asked if he would walk you home after class since you two were getting dinner after and it would be dark when you walked home. He readily agreed. And he took it very seriously. His head was on a swivel the entire walk home, you could barely get a conversation going because of how focused he was on keeping a look out for devils. It was… endearing. 

“Okay… that’s far enough.” You said as your street came into view. Denji looked over at you. 

“Isn’t your house just a bit farther?”

“Yes but… if my dad or mom see you walking me home they’ll kill me.” You say, a bit embarrassed. You were in college but you still really feared what your parents thought of you. They were currently trying to set you up with a boy from their church and if they saw you walking home with a trouble maker like Denji they might push you harder towards that other boy.

“You sure?” Denji asked, cocking his head slightly, his hair falling slightly from his forehead.

“Yeah… Don’t worry.” You smile. “Thanks for walking me home.” For a moment Denji doesn’t respond, his eyes glued to your lips, a blush spreading across the tops of his cheeks and nose. “Denji?”

“Huh? Oh…! Y-yeah that’s no problem. If you want I can walk you home everyday until I die.” He rambles and then blushes even brighter at his clearly not well thought out words. You let out a surprised laugh.

“I’ll… keep that in mind.” You say, walking towards your house, turning and waving when you turn down your street. You glance back a last time, blushing as you watch Denji turn to leave. You’d never much thought about Denji in the ways that were seeping into your brain now. You turned to walk towards your house and wondered if it would’ve been so bad letting Denji walk you the rest of the way. You felt safe with him on the walk home. Suddenly your phone dinged in your pocket. You grabbed it, clicking open the message. 

Denji (from psych): text me when you get home, okay?

Your heart tumbled around in your chest at the message. Just as you went to text back it all sort of happened so fast. It was dark out and you heard the approach before you spotted the thing. Whatever it was it was fast and had snatched you off your feet before you could even blink. The scream that escaped you died in your throat as you were dragged off towards the forest near your house. Your hands flailed out, grasping for anything to hold onto as claws dug into your ankles as it tugged at you. You screamed as the thing paused and that's when you were able to turn and look at it. Just as something revved and the damned thing holding you was split completely in half. The nails that dug into it released and you scrambled back until your back hit hard against a tree. You watched the creature burst apart and something emerge from behind it. Chainsaw’s glinted in the moonlight. You screamed at the sight as the man who saved you ran to you, gently clamping a hand over your mouth. 

“Shh. Shh… It’s okay.” The voice that left the monstrous thing’s mouth was surprisingly gentle. You knew instantly who you were looking at. The hero from the news broadcasts. The Chainsaw Man that killed devils. 

“Fuck… what… uh,” You breathed out, your voice ragged from screaming, tears wet against your cheeks. 

“Are you hurt?” Chainsaw Man asked. His hands on your face, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. You stared at him dumbfoundedly. Seeing him this close was… strange. Uncanny… you felt as though maybe that devil from earlier had killed you and you were dead. “Y/n-- eh… M-miss, are you okay?” He asked again, you swallowed, wide eyed.

“Uh-- I think… so.” You forced out as Chainsaw Man sighed with relief. 

“Let’s get you home then, can you stand?” He asked, moving back slightly. The Chainsaws that once enveloped his hands were no longer there… just regular hands that reached out to pull you to your feet. You shook as you let him pull you to your feet.

“Ah-- fuck… my ankles.” You hissed in pain, forgetting that the devil from before had dug its claws in you. Chainsaw man reacted quickly as you wavered on your feet and swept you off them into his arms. You gasped in surprise.

“I’ll get you to a hospital.” He said. He carried you like you weighed nothing and as the adrenaline and fear calmed in your chest you couldn’t help but slightly blush at the moment. “Do you have your phone on you?” He asked, you nodded your head, unable to say anything. He clicked a few buttons and you heard the sound of a text sending.

“What? Did you text someone?”

“I texted a friend of yours to meet you at the hospital.” He explained. 

You didn’t work up the courage to speak until the lights of the hospital came into view. He lowered you into the grass as you looked up at him.

“What’re you doing?” You asked as the hero backed up towards the forest. 

“Your friend will meet you here and take you the rest of the way… I don’t want to startle anyone else.” He said.

“W-wait!” You called out, he paused, looking back at you. “Thank you… You saved my life.” You gushed, smiling thankfully up at him. The cool facade this man wore moments ago faded in an instant. He tripped over his feet the moment he saw you smile and fell back into the woods. You startled. “Mr. Chainsaw Man… are you okay?!” You called out, unable to go to him. He stood quickly. 

“Of course! Damn branches jumped out at me.” He kicked at the ground, clearing his throat. “And… you’re welcome… don’t walk home alone anymore Miss… it would be better to walk with a friend. A male friend…” He specified as you slowly nodded your head. 

“Uhm… okay.” You said as he backed into the woods. 

“Yeah… a strong one… the friend of yours I texted looks strong so… yeah maybe him.” Chainsaw Man said as you nodded your head, an amused smile growing on your face.

“Thank you again.” You said. Again the devil killer tripped and this time disappeared in the brush.You stared for a moment. “Chainsaw man?” You called out. Squinting into the darkness. Suddenly someone stumbled out from the woods startling you. 

“Ah! There you are! I-- I uh got a text that said you’d be here!” Denji said, running over to you. You gasped, relieved.

“Oh! Denji… thank god!” You said and when he got close you pulled him into your body, hugging him tightly. Denji froze, you felt him stiffen. You didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable but it was so nice seeing a friendly face… although Chainsaw Man wasn’t exactly someone you’d be opposed to see again. When you went to pull away Denji’s arms closed around you and you relaxed. 

“What happened?” Denji asked, muffled against your hair. You pull back finally, his hands still holding you loosely. 

“A devil attacked me and… and Chainsaw Man saved me.” Even saying it out loud made you feel silly and surely enough Denji would laugh at your words but he didn’t. He looked surprised. 

“R-really?” He stuttered as you nodded your head. 

“I know it sounds crazy-“

“No… no I believe you.” He says, then seems to remember why he’s here. “We need to get you inside.” He says as you nod your head, not being able to ignore the stinging pain. 

“I can try to walk,” you say, trying to push to your feet because surely your classmate couldn’t carry you but… but you’d be wrong. 

“No… I got you.” He says and just like Chainsaw Man from before you are lifted with ease into Denji’s arms as he carries you across the way to the lobby of the hospital. “Are you sure you’re okay? Only your ankles got hurt?” He asks as you nod your head. “I— should’ve walked the entire way with you.” He says guiltily. You instant shake your head. 

“No… don’t say that. It was my fault I should’ve just let you walk me home.” You say, the exhaustion of the night and the calmness of Denji’s heart made you tired. “Thank you for coming to help me.” You whisper. At that you hear Denji’s heart race. 

Your parents picked you up from the hospital. They scolded you the entire way home, saying that the boy who helped you should officially walk you home everyday. You knew Denji wouldn’t mind in fact when you got home around four a.m. and checked your phone you saw a couple texts from him already. 

Denji (from psych): sorry I left, I saw your parents and didn’t want to get you in trouble. 

Denji (from psych): please text me when you’re home so I can have peace of mind.

You: hey! sorry just got home hopefully you didn’t wait up for me this late. 

Denji (from psych): oh thank god. everything went okay?

You: yeah I’m fine! The cuts weren’t too deep. I saw news reports of that same devil that attacked me. It had already killed a few people before me. I got super lucky. Looks like I owe Chainsaw Man a big fat thank you kiss.

You stared at your sent message for a moment, blushing. Why in the world would you say that? You moved your hand over your face. Admitting that you might now have a crush on Chainsaw Man to your classmate had your stomach in knots and you're not entirely sure why. You thought about your other friends and how all of them had crushes on Chainsaw Man but for some reason telling that to Denji made you nervous. 

The next morning you checked your phone. Denji had read the text the moment you sent it but didn’t text back. You're not sure why it embarrassed you so much so you thought up a plan that if he asked you’d say you were on pain meds or something. But truthfully… you’d do a lot more for Chainsaw Man if he asked. He saved your life… his voice still swam in your mind. So calming. He was so strong and wasted no time rushing you to help. It was hot. You hadn’t had a crush on someone in a long time and you felt that little flutter in your stomach and knew all too well what it meant. That’s when you heard the doorbell ring. Both of your parents were already gone for the day and you were about to start walking to college. 

You opened the front door and to your surprise a blushing Denji was standing there in the rain. You blinked a few times. 

“Denji?” You asked, he was soaked through with the rain. For a moment you two just looked at each other. Denji unable to speak just at the sight of you. You smiled slightly, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “Denji?” This seemed to snap him out of whatever stupor he was in as he blinked, sputtering out as he spoke. 

“Y-Your mom called me and asked if I could walk you. Didn’t know it would be raining today.” He explained nervously. You stared at him. He was acting very strange.

“Come in.” You ushered him inside which made him act even more nervous. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah!! Yes yeah of course yeah I’m good.” He stuttered out. You laughed softly. 

“Denji, you're absolutely soaked.” You laughed and he seemed to notice he was dripping wet all over your carpet. 

“Oh- oh shit! Sorry!” He went to step back outside but you caught his arm. 

“Wait- it’s fine, Denji, really come on in.” 

“Your carpet?”

“I don’t care about the carpet.” You smiled with a soft laugh. When you looked at him his eyes were glued to that smile. It made your stomach flip. “I think my mom thought you had a car.” You said after a moment as Denji’s eyes snap up to yours. 

“Sorry…”

“Don’t be.” You laughed. “I think… we should skip. What do you think?” You asked as his eyes grew large and he visibly swallowed.

“Really?” He asked as you nodded your head. 

“I mean… My legs still hurt a bit and if we walk we’ll probably catch colds… which reminds me you need to get out of those wet clothes.” You said, unknowingly wreaking havoc on Denji’s nervous system. “Come with me,” You said softly. He dropped his bag and kicked off his shoes, jogging to catch up with you as you led him to your dad’s room. You grabbed some sweatpants and a t-shirt and handed it to Denji. “Here, change into this and give me your wet clothes so I can toss them in the dryer.” You said. Denji nodded obediently and started to pull off his shirt. You blushed instantly. “Wait.. wait… let me get out of the room.” You laughed as Denji laughed nervously. You closed the door behind you and paused. Your heart in your throat. You blew out a breath, walking towards the kitchen. Denji joined you a few minutes later and you smiled at him as you took his wet clothes and tossed them in the dryer. 

“How’re you feeling?” Denji asked. 

“I’ll be okay. I’ll probably have a cool scar down there.” You joke but Denji’s face was slightly serious. You wondered if he still felt bad about letting you walk alone and just at the thought you blushed. 

“I’m… really sorry you got hurt.”

“It’s just some scratches, Denji.” You reassure him. “I’m really okay.” He looks at you and a moment builds between you two before he swallows and nods his head.

“Thank god I- ah uh… Chainsaw Man got to you fast.” Denji professed as you nodded your head with a wistful sigh. 

“Yeah… he’s my savior.” You laugh, walking to sit across from Denji at the counter.

“Savior…” He said softly. “You still gonna give him a big fat thank you kiss?” He asked and suddenly went entirely red, the look on his face told you he hadn’t meant to say that outloud. You let out a surprised laugh.

“I… am not ashamed. I would. He saved my life.” You say earnestly and watch as a lot of stages pass Denji’s face. His dark brown eyes wide. You laughed, shaking your head. “What? I’m hardly the first person to say that. All the girls at school have crushes on Chainsaw Man.” You wave off. Denji suddenly looks overwhelmed and perplexed.

“They… they do?” He asks as you nod your head. He hums in response as though he’s taking this information in. “All the girls?”

“Probably.” You giggle. He clears his throat, looking sort of serious.

“Do… Do you?” He asks.

“Why? Are you jealous?” You ask teasingly. But it seemed you were right on the money because Denji choked on air, coughing. “I-- I was just joking, Denji.”

“Yeah! Yeah of course…” He said, slightly hiding his face.

“Denji?” 

“Hmm?”

“Do you… do you like me?”

“Of course I do!” Denji answers and for a moment you two stare at each other.

“Oh,” You breath out, a violent blush spreading across your face. 

“Oh! Oh.. you-- you meant..” Denji hides his face even more and you dissolve into laughter, slightly relieved he misunderstood. You could deal with a crushing on Chainsaw Man because he was unattainable… but Denji… he was here, real. Really seemed to care for you. It made your heart race in ways Chainsaw Man never could.

“Let's… just forget I said anything. Are you hungry?”

“I… yeah I could eat.” Denji forces out. You grab some stuff for you and Denji to snack on and lead him to your room. The entire time Denji is nervously fidgeting and you're not sure his face has stopped being red. You wondered if he was getting sick from walking here in the rain. When you opened the door to your room and walked inside Denji paused in the doorway. You turned back, his eyes were drinking in his surroundings. “Wow… this is cool.” He walked deeper in and immediately went to your manga shelf. “Holy shit!” He said as a warm smile fits to your lips as he looks at all the titles on your shelf. “You like this series?” He asks, pulling out one of your favorite mangas. You smile excitedly, nodding your head. You two gush about the series for a bit as he finally settles a bit. You put on a movie for you two to watch and scoot over, making room for him. He sits sort of uncomfortably as you laugh gently. 

“Come on, Denji, I don’t bite.” You say. Denji laughs slightly. 

“Of c-course… I’m just not… used to being… alone with a very very pretty girl who said she wants to kiss me.” He struggled with his words. You laughed. 

“I never said I wanted to kiss-” The laugh dies on your lips as Denji and your eyes meet. Everything clicks into place there and then and you feel like a fool. “Holy shit.” “Oh fuck.” You and Denji speak in tandem. You continue to stare at each other in shock. Denji realized his mistake with his words.

“Denji…”

“I… I misspoke.” 

“No… no you didn’t.” You say, sitting up slightly. Denji jumps to his feet.

“I-- I did!”

“Your… holy shit… Denji are you Chainsaw M-”

“No! No, of course not!” Denji tried to laugh it off but everything started to click into place. After All that calming voice… you’d been hearing it almost everyday. You felt like a complete idiot for not realizing. Then your entire face burned red because you had just professed your want to kiss Chainsaw Man in front of Chainsaw Man himself. 

“Holy shit… you,” You started to laugh softly, it grew slowly. “You’re really him. Your Chainsaw Man.”

“You… You can’t tell anyone!” He said quickly. He gave in pretty quickly. “Please… promise me you’ll keep this to yourself.”

“I won’t tell a soul.” You said, a gentle smile on your lips. Denji stared at that smile. You should’ve known it was him, he always trips up when you smile. “You saved my life, Denji.” Denji’s eyes grew, for the hundredth time today he blushed. So he wasn’t sick after all, you were just causing him to malfunction it seemed. “And you pretended to text yourself.” You laughed as Denji sunk down on the bed, covering his face with his hands.

“I’m so embarrassed.” He mumbled into his palms. You reached, gently grabbing his wrists away from his face. He stared at you dumbfoundedly. You moved a bit closer. 

“Don’t be. I… I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything! Seriously, I would save you anytime you need.” He expressed.

“I don’t doubt that.” You grinned, letting go of one wrist and sliding your hand into his with the other. You could see the nerves building in him. Nothing to be done about that, you were only going to make it worse. “But I do owe you. If… if Chainsaw Man wants it.”

“Wants… what?” Denji breaths out.

“A kiss.” You say and watch Denji’s world turn on its axis. He mouths the word ‘kiss’ and immediately his eyes go to your lips. You can tell how badly he wants it. You move a bit closer. “Do you want-” Denji shoots forwards, his lips slamming against your own. You gasp, surprised. The unexpectedness of the kiss jolted your system. The shock of the moment leaves both of you breathless. Denji’s quick and needy kiss, his hands sliding around your back as he pushed you back against the headboard of your bed. You made a sound against his lips that only spurred him on even more. Your bodies melted together, lips slotting together in perfect harmony, intertwined in a slow, sensual rhythm. A sort of primal desire comes over Denji as he presses even closer to you, his kiss trailing greedily from your mouth down your cheek to your jawline then your neck. You shiver, sucking in a breath, your eyes fluttering closed, hand sliding into his hair to gently grip his hair. Denji whimpers against your neck and your stomach bottoms out at the sound. “If you… leave marks on me… I’ll be in trouble.” You murmur, biting your lip. Denji trails his kisses back up to your lips and you grab both of his cheeks and hold him there.

“Mark me up then,” He says against your lips. You blush at his words. 

“Denji…” you breath out, this all was happening so fast. 

“Ah..I.. want to be yours.” Denji implores. “I… I really fucking want you to… own me.” He confesses. You let out a shaky breath and gently swap places with Denji, pushing him back against the pillows of your bed. He burns beneath you, hot to the touch. If he wanted to be yours it was more than fine with you. You duck down and press a kiss to his lips before gently ducking lower, pressing chaste kisses to his neck. 

“I really fucking like you too, Denji…” You whisper against his neck. Denji sharply gasps at your words, a strangled whine escaping from his parted lips. His body sort of twitches beneath you as you slowly slide your legs over him, straddling  against his clothed waist. He’s hard, so achingly hard that when you press against him he can’t help but let out a stifled moan. This was escalating very quickly… and you weren’t at all dissatisfied with this moment. 

“Y/n…” Denji groaned out when you gently bit his neck.

“Hmm?”

“You… don’t have to-- d-do this…” Denji forced out between noises of pleasure. You lifted your head.

“What?” You asked softly. He swallowed, forcing himself to pay attention at this moment. 

“I… want you to want me. Not feel like you owe me because I saved you.” He explains the best he can with you on top of him completely muddling his mind. You could tell how badly he wanted this and wanted you and the fact he was second guessing for your sake made your heart swell. 

“Denji…” You breathed out.

“Let me take you out sometime… you deserve a date, s-something romantic.” He elaborates and you bite the smile on your lips, slightly tilting your head. 

“You want to take me out?” You ask as Denji nods his head quickly. 

“I know you like Chainsaw Man… but I want you to like me as well.”

“Oh… Denji.” You croon, sitting up. “We can go out. Anytime you want. And… yes I do like Chainsaw Man, he’s very cool… but he… he wasn’t the first person I wanted to kiss, ya know.” You say and watch the realization dawn on Denji’s face.

“Wait… you-- wait… when?” Denji asks, halting hope and half in utter disbelief. 

“When you walked me home. You were so serious about keeping me safe.”

“I am very serious about that.” He doubles down. You smile at that and watch his eyes drift to it. Like a moth to a flame. “It wasn’t the shirtless pics of my muscles?” He asks as you scoff out a laugh, reaching and gripping his bicep gently.

“Wow… just like in the picture.” You tease. 

“My friend said that would work.” Denji tries to hide his face in shame but you catch his wrists again, shaking your head in amusement.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like them.” You purred, gaining just the reaction you were wanting. Denji’s face got all red like you liked and when you let go of his wrists his hands fell and rest just on your hips.

“I-- I think I should leave.”He says suddenly. You softly furrow your brow, wondering if you’d made him uncomfortable in any way but know the thing pressing against your core meant he was enjoying this little chat.

“Okay… I’m sure your clothes are dry.” You say and when you move to get off of him his hands tighten slightly on your hips. You look back at him, his face was scrunched up slightly. “Denji..?”

“I-- don’t want…” He thought about his words carefully. “I don’t want to go. I don’t want to let you go.” His fingers flex on your hips. You smile down at him.

“Then don’t.” You say and he looks up at you.

“I really should, ah--- y/n,” Mid sentence you gently ground your hips against his and watched as his sentence fell apart. His grip tightened even more as his head fell back on the pillow. “Please… oh ah-- please don’t, Y/n… I really want to- ah ah fuck… please.” He can’t even form a coherent sentence.

“What is it, Denji?” You ask innocently as you slowly pick up speed. The moans and groans that escape his parted lips are heavenly. You could listen to them all day. 

“Ah-- fuck… Y/n. I can’t-- don’t make me… in my pants…I’ve never… done this…before.” He says, cheeks flushed from embarrassment. You didn’t let up, just reached and gently grabbed him by the chin and angled his lips up to yours so you could kiss him, a fire of your own building below your stomach. You desperately wanted to rid you both of the layers of clothes between you and just at that thought you felt the tips of Denji’s fingers dip beneath the waistband of your pants, sliding back towards your ass. You shivered and kissed him harder as a reward. “Ah… am-- am I yours?” He whimpers helplessly against your lips. “F-fuck me like I’m yours, p-please.” Your stomach bottomed out at that. Jesus… You raised up slightly and pulled your pants off as fluidly as possible, tossing them aside. You helped Denji out of his own pants and paused because you’d never done this before. It was clear he hadn’t either. Despite it all you blew out a nervous breath and pressed on, lining up your entrance with his cock, letting it slide inside you. The noises you both made made the entire room heat up and spin around you. You moved your hips at a decent speed and wrapped your arms around the back of Denji’s neck, tucking your face in his neck as well. Your heart was in your throat thumping loudly as you fumbled your way through the motions, unsure of what you were doing. “Y/n…” Denji’s voice spoke softly, you pulled back and when your eyes met his all the fear an anxiety of the moment drained away. He kissed you hard and rocked up into you, muffling the moan on your lips.  The want that built inside you tightened like a ball in your stomach, slowly being wound free. Denji kissed you, he kissed your cheeks and your forehead and when you came it was together. It was more romantic than you could’ve ever, ever imagined. All those horror stories of first times that all your friends had told you back in high school. You were damn glad you waited. Denji kissed your lips a last time as you two unlatched from each other. That’s when you heard the sound of the front door downstairs opening. 

“Oh fuck.” You said suddenly, jumping up, grabbing your pants. You tossed Denji his and ran to your door, poking out your head. Sure enough your mom was home early. Your face flushed as you pressed your door shut quietly. Sure it was embarrassing to some that you still lived with your parents but you were a broke college student and nowhere else. But right now you would rather perish than your mom catching you with a boy in your room. 

“Your parents?” Denji asked wide eyed as you nodded your head, running to your window, pushing it open. 

“I am… so sorry but you have got to go. Run around to the side of the house and I’ll meet you with your stuff okay.” You say as Denji nods his head, vaulting out of the bed, running to the window. He put one leg out, turned and kissed you quickly before sliding out of it, jumping to the grass below. You gasped, sticking your head out to check if he was okay just as your door opened. “Jesus, mom!” You gasped out.

“Y/n, I thought I heard you,” Your mom said as you pulled the window closed. “Are you feeling okay?” She asked as you nodded your head. 

You snuck out the front door about fifteen minutes later and ran to the side of the house. Denji was waiting there and startled when you finally came around. 

“Sorry,” You apologized, handing him his stuff. He wasted zero time dropping the stuff you handed him, hands sliding on your cheeks to bring your lips to his. You smiled against his lip. 

“We didn’t get to talk after,” He said after a moment. “Was that… are you okay?” He asks, your heart exploding in your chest. “I’ve never done that before… Was I good enough for you?”

“Denji…” You swooned. “You were perfect. And for the record neither have I.” You said and Denji’s lips parted in surprise.

“Really?” He asked as you nodded your head. He swallowed, letting out a breath. “You were heavenly…” He said, making you blush. 

“Alright Mr. Chainsaw Man… you really need to go.” You laugh as Denji pouts. 

“When can I see you again?”

“I’ll leave my window unlocked.” You say and watch Denji’s face erupt in another glorious blush. 

“No… I have to take you out properly before I sneak into your room again.” He says as you laugh, biting your lip.

“Alright… plan something, I’ll be waiting for your text.” You say and Denji nods his head, kissing you one last time before leaving. You shake your head laughing, as you head back inside. You grab your phone from your room and scroll through you and Denji’s messages until you find one of his shirtless pics, you send it back to him with the caption, new lockscreen <3.          

#chainsaw man #denji #csm denji #chainsaw man denji #denji x reader #denji x you #fem reader #csm x reader #chainsaw man smut #denji smut #chainsaw devil

[oleander-nin]

Hi how do you think Yandere Leo and Yandere Donnie (together) hcs from rise would act as platonic yanderes friends who don’t wanna share the readers with others , turtles rather keep the reader to themselves , but what if reader got hurt by one of the villains how do the turtles react to that 👀

A/N, not important: Sorry for the late post. I've been busy. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: Kidnapping, possession of a friend, manipulation, isolation, losing all friends, toxic behavior, toxic friendship, gaslighting(technically), hint towards murder, yandere behavior

Words: 718

Summary: ROTTMNT Platonic Yandere Leo and Donnie headcanons of when you get hurt

Tag list: @f1oricide @itsyagurlchip @lordfreg @acutiewithagun @rottmnttmnt2012 @lixnininotnay @lexiechr @ssak-i

They’d both be clingy, constantly vying for your individual attention while also trying to not annoy you to the point of attempting to remove them from your life. While they have you in their sights, neither is immediately trying to kidnap you off the bat. They like knowing you’re choosing to come to them. It gives them a superior feeling to the other people you used to call friends, even if they’re the reason you no longer have any other friends.

Neither let you go for very long without seeing one of them. They can’t go a day without checking in on you in person. Text or calls doesn’t cut it.

Leo loves to send you memes and funny videos, and gets upset if you don’t respond/react to them. He’ll probably end up at your window within half an hour of you missing a text, worried something happened to you.

Have slowly driven a wedge between you and all of your other friends, effectively isolating you. Neither Leo nor Donnie even let you hang out much with Raph or Mikey, preferring to keep you as reliant on them as possible. You’re their friend, and they’re the only friends you’ll ever need.

They’ll insist on sleepovers, or you staying over with them a lot. Leo especially likes to guilt trip you into staying over, constantly whining on how you’re avoiding them if you don’t. They’re trying to get you used to staying with them, hoping that the longer you spend with them, the less likely you’ll fight back when they decide you can’t leave.

They’re also incredibly protective of you, always judging who you’re with or who you want to make friends with. They have something on every person you try to form a bond with, trying to feed into your paranoia while painting themselves as your heroes. Donnie and Leo aren’t like everyone else, you can trust them.

Because of the different ways Leo and Donnie handle things with you, it ends up being in their benefit. You’re mad at Leo? Donnie will spend time with you and try to calm you down while making you see Leo’s point of view. You found Donnie’s tracker and are avoiding him? Of course Leo knew nothing about it, but can you blame Donnie? He’s only trying to keep you safe.

Their tag teaming makes it so you will never be able to have a break from them, and you won’t ever be able to be mad at one without the other coming to show you all the reasons you shouldn’t be.

They try their best to keep you away from the dangers of their ‘work’, telling you recounts of their fights while making sure you’ll never see one firsthand. They want to impress you and make you feel like they will be able to keep you safe, but never want you to be in the line of fire. Your safety will always be their top priority.

So when you show up with bruises and scratches one day, they’re both immediately on high alert. Both are nearly immediately up in arms and ready to kill as you tell them what happened. By the time you finish your account, Donnie’s already located the villain responsible and is having SHELLDON track their every move.

Neither of them leave your side until you’re feeling better and patched up. They’re delighted you came to them, and know that if they left now, you’d be upset while having to deal with your pain and fear alone. They’ll set up your favorite movie for you in the projector room, swaddling you in blankets and ordering your favorite take out.

As soon as you’ve calmed down, and hopefully fallen asleep, they’ll both go find who hurt you, and make sure they’ll never be able to hurt a single hair on you again.

When they return, they make sure to not alert you as they finally finish their preparations to the small train car they converted into your new room. The world is too dangerous for you, especially now that they’ve failed to protect you. They swear to never let something happen to you ever again, even if it means never letting you go. Which is fine by them, it’s not like this isn’t exactly what they wanted.

#rottmnt #tmnt #rise of the tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt donnie #yandere tmnt #yandere rottmnt #rise leo #rise donnie #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt leonardo #platonic yandere x reader #yandere platonic #yandere x reader #tw yandere #platonic yandere donatello #platonic yandere leonardo #yandere leonardo #yandere donatello #platonic yandere rottmnt #platonic yandere leo #platonic yandere donnie #yandere rottmnt leo #yandere donnie #yandere rottmnt x reader

[nebulablakemurphy]

Moves & Countermoves (Part 4)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Caesar’s audience goes wild over Katniss. The volunteering, the dry humor and the dress to top it off. It’s more than her mentors hoped for; huddled at the viewing screen, on the twelfth floor. The people will remember her.

“How’d I do?” Katniss asks, immediately upon return.

“You were wonderful,” Effie rejoices.

The brunette looks to Y/N, tucked up under Haymitch’s arm. “Better than anything Haymitch could have scripted for you.”

He wrestles Y/N closer in retaliation. “Nice work, sweetheart.”

Katniss hasn’t known them for a particularly long time, but it is odd to find them so entangled without cause. Is something wrong? She has no more than a moment to ponder; now Peeta is in the hot seat.

“So Peeta, tell me, is there a special girl back home?” The master of ceremonies grins.

“There is this one girl who I’ve had a crush on forever.” He admits with the crowd now wrapped around his finger.

“Well, surely if you win she’ll have to go out with you.” Caesar laughs.

“No, I don’t think winning’s gonna help me at all.” His easy smile is lost, now solemn in this confession.

“And why is that?”

“Because she came here with me.”

Haymitch huffs a laugh, “kid’s got a knack for this.”

“Well that’s bad luck, isn’t it?” Caesar laments.

“Yeah, it is.” Peeta lowers his gaze. Earning him a few sympathetic sighs.

“And I wish you all the best of luck. Peeta Mellark!”

The audience cheers him off stage. Sending an unsuspecting baker’s boy into the elevator to meet the fuming girl on fire.

“She’s gonna kill him.” Y/N warns Haymitch, in a whisper.

“Relax, he’s helping her.”

“I don’t think she sees it that way.” Y/N knows Katniss well enough by now.

Her fears are confirmed when Katniss clamps her hand around Peeta’s shoulder and shoves him up against the wall. “What the hell was that?”

“Ahhh!” Effie squeals at the sight. These people are savages.

“You don’t talk to me, then you say you have a crush on me? You say you wanna train alone? Is that how you wanna play? Huh?” Katniss seethes, keeping her partner pinned there.

Peeta does not fight, makes no move to free himself.

“Stop it,” Haymitch shouts. Watching Y/N peel Katniss off of Peeta.

“Let’s start right now!”

“Stop it!” Haymitch repeats. Taking Katniss by the arm so Y/N can check on Peeta.

“You ok?” She gives the boy a once over.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, still in shock.

“He did you a favor,” Haymitch explains. Strategically speaking, she should be thanking him.

“He made me look weak.”

“He made you look desirable. Which in your case, can’t hurt, sweetheart.”

“He’s right, Katniss,” Cinna steps in.

“Of course I’m right.” Only been doing this twenty-four damn years. “Now, we can sell the star crossed lovers from district twelve.” Haymitch reasons.

“We are not star crossed lovers!” Katniss lunges for Peeta again.

“It’s a television show!” Haymitch snaps. Feeling Y/N’s hand on his back, steadying him. “Being in love with that boy might just get you sponsors; which could save your damn life.”

“Let’s get to bed, hmm?” Y/N pats Peeta gently on the cheek. “Tomorrow is a big day.” She steps around her husband to give Katniss the same treatment.

“Good idea,” Haymitch decides. These kids will be the death of him. “Maybe we can deliver you both in one piece.”

————————————————————————

“You stay away from the cornucopia, it’s a bloodbath. Look for allies, water and high ground; remember what I taught you. They’ll show the fallen tributes in the sky each night, incase you lose count of the cannon.”

Peeta nods, hands clasped in Y/N’s as they approach ground level. Katniss is with Haymitch, in the adjacent elevator, receiving similar wisdom.

“If there’s no water, that’s where sponsors come in. We’ll send it as soon as we can.” Y/N tells him. Cover all your bases, this is your last chance.

“What about Katniss?”

“Same goes for Katniss, whatever you need, I’ll do my best to get.”

“I asked Haymitch to throw my sponsor’s money to Katniss.” Peeta tells his mentor. “Save her, for her sister.”

“You have people rooting for you too,” she says pointedly. “Never forget that. If you change your mind about the sponsors just say so.”

The doors open into the scorching sun near the launch pad.

Peeta steps out, still hanging loosely from one of Y/N’s hands. “I guess this is goodbye.”

“Bring it in,” her arms open wide.

“Thank you, for everything.” Peeta hugs her, in parting.

“You’re welcome.” Y/N returns the embrace, just as tightly.

“I’m gonna make you proud.”

————————————————————————

“And that Claudius, is the familiar sound of cannon, symbolizing the end of another fallen tribute.” Caesar narrates.

Eight down in the blood bath.

Haymitch takes a steadying breath, the children beside them in the viewing room run about. Brother chasing sister with a toy sword while the parents look on and laugh.

Y/N is deep in conversation with Cashmere, paying them no mind. Pointing to the screen on occasion as they whisper amongst themselves.

The boy trips over his little sister, falling sword first against Cashmere’s back.

The blonde smiles, turning the plastic blade away, “you got me.”

The kids giggle and run off, leaving the parents to apologize. “We are so terribly sorry.”

“No worries.” The blonde is not here to mentor and doesn’t want to draw anymore attention. Excusing herself after a moment.

“Everything ok?” Haymitch asks.

Y/N nods, eyes trained on the monitor.

Haymitch knows better than to push for information she isn’t ready to give. Instead he focuses on the positive, Katniss and Peeta are still alive.

The boy forming an alliance with the careers. Stupid…smart if it doesn’t get him killed. The girl forging a path away from the excitement, she wants to go it alone. Stupid of a different variety.

In the games you pick your poison.

Part 5

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420 @avocadotoastwithegg @officialjellydoughnut @whoreforfictionalpeople @treehouse-mouse @emo-markie @spilled-mi1k

#haymitch abernathy #haymitch x reader #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch fanfic #haymitch abernathy x y/n #haymitch abernathy fanfic #haymitch x y/n #haymitch abernathy x you #the hunger games #hunger games fanfiction

[sycamorelibrary754]

Forts, Fruit Snacks, & Flying

Summary: How will Natasha react when she sees the footage of your daughter’s high flying escapades with Peter while you two were in Paris celebrating your anniversary?

Pairings: Natasha x reader, Yelena, Kate, Peter x reader (platonic).

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 800

Warnings: None 

A/N: @togrowoldinv suggested a fic where Natasha finds out about Mila’s flying with Peter in We’re a Family. This can also be read as a stand-alone story. I hope you enjoy it! 

It was Wednesday afternoon. You and Natasha had been home for almost two weeks. Your anniversary in Paris now a cherished memory for both of you. You had gone back to work, and Nat, despite her semi-retirement, had been at the compound for the last three days training a couple of new recruits.

The meeting you were in was running long, and you were starting to worry about who was going to pick up Mila from preschool. You knew Nat wasn’t available for at least another two hours, so you text your sister-in-law.

You: Hey Yelena, I’m stuck at work and Nat is training recruits until 5 pm. Is there any way you can pick up Mila from preschool and bring her home? We should be home around 5:30 p.m. 

Yelena: No problem! Peter, Kate Bishop, and I just finished an outreach event at the library. We’re only a couple blocks from her school. 

You: Thank you! You’re the best sister-in-law ever. Tell Kate and Peter I say thank you as well. We’ll see you in a bit. 

Mila had just picked up her purple unicorn backpack from her cubby when she caught sight of Yelena, Kate, and Peter by the door. 

“Surprise, little spider!! We’re here to pick you up”, Yelena exclaimed. 

“Where’s Mommy and Mama?” Mila asked, hugging the trio. 

“They’ll be home soon. Meanwhile, we get to go home and play. What do you say?”

“Yay!”

*^~^*

After arriving home and getting Mila a snack, your daughter decided she wanted to build a blanket fort. Following some expert engineering, the four sat down inside the fort eating Welch’s Fruit Snacks.

Mila lokoed over at Peter, “Did you bring your flying suit with you?”

“Oh, not today, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

Your little girl looks like she's about to cry when Kate interjects. “Mila, do you want to see the video of you flying with Peter when you stayed with us? I have it on my phone.”

She nods, and Kate tosses the video to the AirPlay on your big-screen TV. At that very moment, you and Natasha walked in the front door. Natasha’s eyes go wide as she takes in the 4k footage of your five-year-old daughter flying through the air on Spider-Man’s back, as Mila runs up to hug you. 

“What the hell?!” Natasha shouted.

“Mama said a bad word,” your daughter tattled, pointing at Nat. 

“Yeah, sweetie, that was a bad word… Why don’t we go unpack your backpack?” you suggested as your little girl ran to you.

“Don’t kill him”, you said with a smirk and a hand on her shoulder as you walk by with Mila in your arms.

Natasha is staring Peter down with a look that he’s only seen on missions. “Okay, I know what you’re thinking, Nat— Ms. Black Widow, um, Romanoff. But she was safe the entire time. I would never drop her. We put pillows down on the floor, and she had a blast.” Peter asserted.

“Peter, shut up,” Kate whispered.

“Good advice,” Nat remarked, taking a step toward Peter.

“Come on sestra, you know we did fun things like that all the time back in Ohio.” Yelena reasoned. 

She is about to give it to Peter when she catches sight of her daughter’s face on the screen. 

“Wee!! Faster, Uncle Peter!” Mila giggled.

Natasha’s heart melts at the sight of her carefree and happy little girl. Exactly how she always hoped Mila would grow up. She looked back at Peter without breaking her best Black Widow poker face.

“I have two things to say to you. One—never do that again unless she is in mortal danger, or you will be the one in mortal danger. Two—can you send me that video?”

“… I’m sorry, what?” Peter asks.

“Can you send me that video? I want it for her baby book.”

A look of relief washes over Peter’s face. “Oh, sure. Umm, Kate has it.” Peter said, pointing at the young archer. 

Kate nods and sends Nat the video, her phone pinging in confirmation. 

“Thanks, and thank you for picking up Mila today. Would you three like to stay for dinner?”

“Sure, that would be great”, Yelena responded.

Nat walked away leaving the three young Avengers standing in the living room. 

“Dude, you’re sweating,” Kate giggled.

“You don’t need to be afraid of her, she isn’t as scary as she looks,” Yelena said. 

“Really?”

“No, she could kill you in two seconds. But look on the bright side, she didn’t. That means she likes you!” Patting Peter on the back. 

“Awesome,” Peter squeaked.

#natasha romanoff x reader #yelena boleva x reader #kate bishop x reader #peter parker x reader #the avengers #mcu #black widow #spiderman #fluff #platonic

[icanhearcolors]

Close Encounter pt 4

Hiiiiiiiii! Sorry this took a minute, It's midterm season and I just adopted a new cat because I can. It's been busy. Hope you enjoy :p

Word count: 4.7k

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3

Lae’zel tilts her head, eyes closed, as she listens to the distant shouting. You open your mouth to ask her what’s happening, but even with her eyes closed she somehow senses what you’re about to say and holds up a hand, silencing you.

Patience has never been a virtue of yours.

You bite your tongue and bounce on the balls of your feet while you wait. A glance at Astarion reveals a similar image. His head is inclined in the same direction as Lae’zel’s, his eyes unfocused. It seems that you and Gale are the only two with inferior hearing. He at least seems much less frustrated by that fact. You watch as he draws some sort of glyph in the dirt with the toe of his boot.

In his defense, after the day you’ve all had, some shouting isn’t all that alarming compared to abduction and mind flayer parasitization. 

Still, you can hear the differences in the voices even if you can’t quite discern what they’re saying. There are at least half a dozen people not far off from you, people who might be able to point you in the direction of a healer.

“We were right,” says Astarion after a pause that felt as if it spanned centuries, “There is a civilization up ahead.”

“Not for much longer,” Lae’zel drones in a bored voice.

“What?” You ask at the same time a horn sounds somewhere in the distance, followed by a rallied war cry.

“Goblins,” Astarion mutters.

Because why not?

You bite down on your bottom lip until you taste blood, weighing your options.

If a band of goblins takes whatever camp they’re attacking they’ll kill the only people you’ve managed to find after an entire day of walking. Your days are numbered now, and you don’t have many left. There doesn’t seem to be a choice to make. You turn to start down the path leading to all the noise when Astarion catches your arm.

“Wait.”

You try to pull out of his grasp but his grip only tightens. 

“What?” You snap.

“Why do we have to play hero for every sad soul we come across? This will make what, the fourth life or death altercation of the day?”

“Those people will die without our help!”

“People die everyday! Your inability to accept that fact is going to get us all killed alongside them.”

You rip your knife from its sheath and flip it up, holding the blade an inch from his throat. A normal person would have let you go and backed away from the weapon aimed at their jugular. Astarion only raises an eyebrow in a silent dare. Not the response you expected, but it is nice to see him on the receiving end of a knife to the throat for a change.

Lae’zel, who seemed to be regarding your disagreement with a cool disinterest, perks up at the sight of a weapon drawn. She unsheathes a blade of her own and begins cleaning her nails with it, watching you and Astarion with a sort of wicked approval. 

Gale, who appears to be the most reasonable one of the group, takes a step back. He eyes you both warily, but you get the impression that he's mildly satisfied to see Astarion in the same position he himself was in just a few hours earlier, a weapon aimed at his head. 

As a group you are rather dysfunctional.

“Those people currently being slaughtered may know something about the tadpoles in our heads, or at the very least may be able to point us to the creche. We’ve been wandering the wilds for hours. We have days before these parasites rip us apart. If you want to leave the best chance we have stranded to be murdered by a pack of goblins, be my guest, but I’m not taking that chance. Let. Me. Go.”

Astarion’s eyes narrow, but he drops your arm.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Tav.”

“I hate to agree with him” Gale chimes in, “But it seems rather reckless to jump into battle without a plan.”

Lae’zel flashes the men a feral smile, gleeful at the prospect of bloodshed.

“The plan is to eliminate the goblin scourge. If that is too complicated for you, remain here until we return” She drawls 

She turns and stalks away, following the sounds of screeching goblins and howling wolves.

Astarion tilts his head back and sighs deeply as you follow her, muttering something under his breath.

Still, as you pass him you feel him silently fall into step behind you. Gale reluctantly trudges along, lamenting about how much he misses his library.

The noise of the battle grows louder with every step. Swords clang and wolves snarl loud enough to shake the ground under your feet. You break the treeline and find yourself at the narrow entrance to a small clearing in the middle of the dense woods.

To your left is a large rocky hill that overlooks the clearing. To your right, a cliff that connects to a massive wall split by a heavy wooden gate.

You stand in the bottleneck, watching chaos unfold in the field ahead. A horde of goblins- stout little creatures with razor sharp teeth and a bloodlust that probably rivals Astarion’s, are throwing everything they have at a human scouting party. A few tieflings stand on the wall, frantically shouting for back-up and returning fire when they aren’t being pelted with arrows. 

The air is heavy with the smell of blood and smoke.

Astarion takes a deep breath through his nose and hums a low, pleased sound that raises the hairs on the back of your neck.

Lae’zel observes the carnage and laughs, a sound you admittedly didn’t know she was capable of making. 

In a flash her greatsword is in her hands and she’s diving into the fray with all the murderous enthusiasm of a rabid displacer beast. 

She blocks the swing of a bugbear’s club and throws it off balance, but misses her next attack on the creature as it throws itself to the side. She hisses in rage and stalks after it as it scrambles away on its hands and knees.

Her arrival doesn’t go unnoticed, and several goblins turn, redirecting their murderous rage towards your group.

You hear Gale begin muttering the sleep incantation and do your best to provide cover as he chants, launching magic missiles at any creature that comes too close. You do a decent amount of damage, knocking more than one goblin clear off its feet, but they don’t seem to notice the pain. They only seem to get angrier as they charge the humans at the gate. You could use an archer right about now.

Where the hell is Astarion?

You whip your head around, scanning the battlefield, but he has disappeared completely. Disappointment fills you when you realize he’s nowhere to be seen. You didn’t take him for a coward but it’s possible you misjudged him. You don’t have time to dwell on it now. 

A flash of silver catches your eye in your search, and you’re momentarily distracted by a strange newcomer cutting his way through a throng of goblins. He’s not dressed like the other humans, his clothes are dark and well armored as opposed to the brown leather outfits woven with leaves the scouting party are wearing, presumably for camouflage. He’s brandishing a blood soaked rapier, and you can’t tell exactly what from here but you think there’s something off about one of his eyes. 

He laughs as he cuts down a snarling goblin. There’s something so distinctly familiar about him, but now is neither the time nor place to find out what it is.

A goblin whose arm was singed by one of your missiles turns and locks eyes with you, smoke curling up from his burned flesh. The smell has bile rising up from your stomach. It lifts its scimitar above its head and screams a battle cry, sprinting for you with a promise of death in his eyes. 

Time itself seems to slow as you raise a shaking hand. Your power recoils when you reach for it. Your vision swims. The strain sends a spike of pain through your skull. You’ve used all the magic you can. 

The goblin is a few steps from you now. The rusted blade he holds above his head is dripping black blood, and so are the pointed shark-like teeth he bares at you in a snarl.

You suppose this ending is slightly preferable to becoming a mind flayer, though not by much.

You brace yourself as the goblin lunges for you, but a brief flash of light slams into it mid-air, and it drops like a stone at your feet. 

You stare at it in stunned silence for a moment before an unexpected sound rattles its small frame.

Is it… snoring?

You whip your head toward Gale, whose eyes are glowing with pure white light. He nods at you and continues casting, launching magic missiles of his own at one of the goblin’s wolves. 

You take the rescue for what it is and plunge your knife into the sleeping monster. It twitches once, and the snoring stops.

You’re out of spells. You have firebolt as a cantrip, but every time you use it your vision blurs and vertigo wracks your body. You wouldn’t know how to shoot a bow even if you had one. If you want to continue fighting the goblins you’re going to have to get a lot closer.

You leave Gale to his casting on the outskirts of the battle and cut your way towards the center, forgetting that you’re opening yourself up to fire from the archers positioned somewhere on the hill above you.

You realize far too late that you don’t have a shield, but you also notice that somehow the arrows that were previously raining down from the top of the hill have inexplicably halted, and you have a clear path forward. 

You spot Lae’zel, who is battling a bleeding one-armed bugbear and a snarling bare-faced wolf. The wolf lunges for her, and she’s forced to dodge backward toward the bugbear who uses his one remaining hand to slam his metal club into the back of her head. She blinks dazedly and sways on her feet for a moment.

The wolf leans back on its haunches and prepares to lunge for her throat.

You won’t reach her in time. 

You sprint for the creature anyway, fear for your companion fueling you, when an arrow sinks into the wolf's side. It yelps and frantically gnaws at the arrow, attacking the source of its terrible pain, ripping its own flesh in its panic. It provides just enough of a distraction for you to change course and leap onto the back of the bugbear, burying your knife in its throat. It gurgles for a second, choking on blood, and drops to the ground at Lae’zel’s feet. She turns with a shout and beheads the yelping wolf in one swift strike. 

Panting, she turns to you. One of her pupils is blown wide, the other just a slit.

“I didn’t ask for your assistance” She growls.

“You’re welcome” You reply, which earns you an unfocused bleary-eyed glare from the concussed Githyanki.

An agonized scream pierces through the clang of weapons and the crackling fire. You turn just in time to see a human archer a few yards away staring down with horrified eyes at the grinning goblin who’s scimitar is buried in her stomach.

Fuck.

You change directions and lunge for the girl, hurling a firebolt at the goblin’s head in the process. It screeches, dropping the scimitar to swipe at the flames engulfing it's pointed face. Vertigo almost takes you to the ground, but you manage to clumsily catch the girl as she drops to her knees, her skin pale and clammy.

She babbles frantically as you lower her slowly to the ground.

“I can’t- please I’m only t-twenty I d-don’t wanna die” 

Her hands are slick with her own blood and they clutch at your shirt as you assess the damage. The only healing spell you know is lesser restoration, and while that may buy her a few seconds of relief from the blood loss, the wound is still open. Even if you did know a healing spell powerful enough to save her, you couldn’t cast it in the state that you're in. You can do nothing to solve the issue of the blade protruding from her belly. 

You apply pressure to the wound. There are only a few goblins left alive, the battle will soon be over, but every second the fight drags on feels like an hour as you hold this girl together with your bare hands.

“I’m sorry, I know it hurts,” You try to assure her, your voice shaky.

She swallows dryly and shakes her head.

“It doesn’t”

That can’t be good.

“That’s good. A healer is on their way. You’re going to be al-”

Before the last word can leave your lips something launches into your side, and the breath is knocked from your lungs. Your vision doubles and a formless black blob sways above you. You blink a few times and your eyes clear. The goblin you lit on fire smiles at you as best it can with the skin of its face crisped black and melting off. Your eyes shift sluggishly to the dagger raised above its head, just in time to watch it fall. You hear the wet squelch of the dagger ripping through the flesh of your shoulder. 

It doesn’t hurt at first, it almost feels as though your arm has fallen asleep. A riot of pins and needles shoots down all the way to your fingertips and back up again. Then comes the explosion of pain so intense your body jerks under the goblin that still sits on top of you. It cackles as you tense in a silent scream, twisting the blade until your vision darkens around the edges.

It happens so suddenly you almost miss it. One moment the goblin is twisting the blade and laughing, the next it’s gurgling and choking on the arrow protruding from its throat. You reach up with your uninjured arm and yank the arrow free of the creature’s neck, watching the life fade from its yellow eyes as it pitches to the side and slides off you, leaving the dagger buried in your shoulder.

Your gaze snaps up to the top of the hill, where you see Astarion, his bow raised, eyes trained on the dead goblin that fell to your side. At his feet, two more goblins lie dead with their throats slit, their bows still clutched in their hands. 

That’s the last thing you see before the world goes dark.

~

You fall through an endless black void. The wind rushing past your ears and whispering over your skin is the only indication you’re moving at all. The darkness is so potent you genuinely can’t tell if your eyes are open or closed.

You spread your limbs out as far as you can, hoping to feel something, anything, but you’re falling through open air.

Oh. You’re closer than I thought you were. I wasn’t expecting you so early.

A voice that is not your own bounces around inside your skull. 

There’s a blinding flash of light, your eyes were open after all, and reality shifts. You don’t land but suddenly you aren’t falling either, you’re standing on a rocky island floating in an endless purple sky. In your cursory glance you find a shadowy figure sitting on the edge of the island, legs kicking over the vacuum of empty space below them.

You freeze, unsure where you are or how you got there.

“Come,” Says the same voice you heard in your head moments ago, “Sit with me. There is much to discuss.”

The voice is soothing, gentle, and you take a step forward.

~

With a crack you're suddenly yanked from the dream world and back into your body. You find yourself still sprawled on your back on the battlefield. There’s a sharp burning sensation in your cheek, and a shadow leaning over you, haloed in sunshine. It looks almost like…

“Astarion?”

The shadow sighs in relief.

“Yes! Thank the gods. This would have been really awkward to explain if you had amnesia.”

“I-” you reach up to rub your stinging cheek and groan when pain lances down your arm. You can’t move it.

“Did you slap me?”

You feel yourself fading away again, consciousness slipping out of your grasp.

The shadow that is actually a rather blurry vampire nods solemnly.

“I did. I’m about to do it again.”

“S’not nice.” You mumble.

“Tav, if you can stay awake for a moment longer I can get us out of here. I need you to look into my eyes. Can you do that for me?”

You aren’t entirely sure, your eyelids are so heavy, but you do try. Slowly, you manage to pry them open enough to meet Astarions eyes. Once your gazes collide, you wonder why you ever thought it was hard to keep your eyes open at all. It would pain you to look away now. His eyes are such a hypnotic shade of red. You think it might be your new favorite color.

“That's it Tav.” His voice is low- enticing. It satisfies something deep within you, and you find yourself holding your breath, hanging onto every word. 

“You aren’t going to sleep anymore. You’re going to stand with me and walk through the gate.”

You’re nodding before he’s even finished speaking.

Vaguely, you know what this is. Vampires, and apparently vampiric spawn, have the ability to compel creatures. Some are better at it than others, and some creatures are harder to compel than others, but you make it easy. You don’t even try to resist, knowing this compulsion might just save your life.

That is until you accept Astarion’s lended hand and stand, looking down to see the glassy, lifeless eyes of the human girl you were trying to save before the goblin stabbed you.

Her arm is stretched toward you, a look of despair frozen on her face, as if she reached out to you in her final moment.

You reach for her, praying to anyone that will listen that she’s not actually dead, when Astarion catches you with an arm around your waist.

“There’s nothing more that you can do for her. Walk.”

Your resolve is weaker than it’s ever been, and the compulsion takes you completely. Your legs move on their own accord. Astarion keeps an arm around your waist and pulls your good arm over his shoulder, bearing the brunt of your weight as you make slow progress toward the gate that everyone is fleeing for. You see Gale and one of the tieflings carrying an unconscious Lae’zel on fabric stretched between two long branches. They place her on the ground just inside the entrance and rush to find a healer.

You stumble inside after them. Every heartbeat triggers a fiery explosion of pain that leaves you gasping. Astarion half-drags you to a wooden stump and sets you down on top of it, his compulsion fading along with the rest of your energy. He crouches in front of you and inspects your shoulder, tsking softly.

“Go'head” You say, your words somewhat slurring together.

His expression turns wary as he motions something over your shoulder.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean by that.”

“Say it.” 

He shakes his head in confusion, and you try again, pushing the words out through shallow huffs of air.

“Say ‘I told you so’” 

“Ah” he smiles “As much as I would love to, it’s beneath me to kick a lady while she’s down”

“I’ll show you who’s down.” You attempt to threaten, but when you lean forward a wave of nausea hits you, and you double over, pressing the hand you can move to your mouth as if you can push back the rising bile.

Astarion positions you back upright with a hand on your good shoulder, something resembling concern in his voice as he calls for a healer. It’s becoming very hard to breathe.

You hear someone rush to his side, but you don’t even have enough energy to turn your head to see who it is. 

“Is she ready?” The stranger asks.

“She’ll have to be. She’s losing a lot of blood. I can hear how hard her heart is beating to pump what little she has left.”

He taps your face as you begin to nod off and you open your eyes, unsure of when you closed them.

“This is going to hurt.” Is Astarion’s only warning before he rips the dagger out of your shoulder.

You open your mouth to scream, but someone presses a large bottle full of thick red liquid to your lips and you drink instead, desperate for the relief a health potion will provide. You grimace both at the metallic taste of the potion and at the itchy sensation of your muscles knitting themselves back together. The wound closes and the pain subsides, but your shoulder still tingles savagely with pins and needles.

Some of your energy returns to you, and you glance up at the stranger that gave you the potion. The dwarven druid returns your nod of thanks with one of her own before turning her attention to an unconscious Lae’zel, who you notice was moved to a cot sometime between when you stumbled through the gate and now. You peel your bloodstained shirt off your shoulder and see for the first time the angry red scar that remains despite the magic of the healing tonic. You cringe and pull your shirt back over it. 

When you look over at Astarion, he is staring at the bloody dagger he pulled from your shoulder with an intensity that unnerves you.

“Astarion?” 

He startles as he’s pulled out of his thoughts and drops the dagger on the ground at your feet. He bares his teeth in an expression you think was meant to be a smile, but doesn’t quite make it past a grimace. He stands fluidly, and you scan him from head to toe for injuries. He doesn’t seem to have a scratch on him. 

Relief and annoyance battle it out in your head as you follow suit, standing on shaky legs.

“Thank-”

He turns and glares so angrily you shut your mouth with an audible click.

“I don’t want your thanks. We had a deal, Hero, all I did was hold up my end.”

You remember the deal you made with the vampire.

You watch my back, and I’ll watch yours.

Interesting.

“I don’t think I like that nickname” You frown.

“Oh? I can think of a few more you might like better.” He winks, and your eyes widen in genuine fear as you imagine what he could possibly mean by that.

“No no, hero is good- great even.”

Astarion chuckles in sadistic delight and ushers you further inside the grove toward Gale, who you see also looks mostly unharmed other than a gash above his eyebrow. Upon closer inspection however, you see the same bone deep fatigue you feel mirrored in his eyes. Magic takes energy to cast, and the toll exacted on a caster for pushing their limits is merciless.

“Glad to see you’re okay Tav,” He says by way of greeting. He gestures at the older tiefling man he was speaking to when you approached.

“This is Zevlor. He’s offered to allow us to make camp inside the walls of the grove until we recover from the battle.”

The tiefling nods and places a hand over his heart bowing his head at you and Astarion. In your current state, drained of magic as you are, the tadpole seems to have more control than it did before. Your mind is drawn to Astarion’s like metal to a magnet, and when the connection clicks into place, you feel his awkward uncomfortability with Zevlor’s gesture. It seems Astarion is inept at accepting thanks from everyone, not just you. 

“I cannot thank you enough for your assistance out there.” Zevlor begins, “There surely would have been many more casualties if you had not done what you did. Your friend Gale of Waterdeep-”

A pulse of sadistic amusement bridges the gap between yours and Astarion’s mind and you watch his mouth twitch as he suppresses a smile. Gale’s lips press together in thinly veiled annoyance. Zevlor continues on, completely oblivious, “-tells me you’ve been searching for a healer. Our main healer left with the scouting party you saved today and hasn’t returned, but his apprentice Nettie is more than capable of healing most ailments. I’m sure she’d be happy to counsel you in the morning once all the wounded have been tended to. We’ll point your Gith friend your way once she wakes up.”

You nod gratefully and Zevlor is called to help someone else before anything more can be said. The link between your mind and Astarion’s buzzes with energy and he turns to you with a horrified expression as he’s suddenly bombarded by everything you’re feeling. 

“How are you standing up right now?”

“I have no idea. I can’t feel my legs.”

Gale flashes you an alarmed look. He notices your shaking limbs and holds out an arm. You consider his offered help for a moment before shaking your head. You don't want to be a burden to this man you've just met. You'll be fine as long as you can sit down sometime in the very near future. Gale drops his arm but not his concerned expression.

“A healer I am not, but I don’t imagine trembling with every step is a sign of anything good.” He warns

You wave off his concern with a weak smile and continue walking. Astarion and Gale follow, a little too close for your liking, as if they're waiting for your inevitable fall.

Astarion responds to Gale's warning for you.

“If I didn’t pity whoever's waiting for you back home before, Gale of Waterdeep, I do now.”

Gale’s face scrunches in annoyed confusion.

“I don’t have a partner... anymore.”

“I bet I know why.”

"You most definitely do not."

“Would you two shut up for a second?” You hiss.

You're passing a merchant’s table littered with armor, camp supplies, magical artifacts, dyes, and weapons. A crossbow catches your eye, and you remember earlier on the battlefield wishing you had a bow that you knew how to shoot. Maybe none of this would have happened if you had more than a puny knife to fight with. You stop in front of the table. Astarion and Gale nearly crash into the back of you.

“How much?”

You ask the dwarven merchant digging for something in a box behind the table, pointing at the crossbow.

Astarion raises his eyebrows, but says nothing.

The dwarf’s head snaps up and his eyes widen as he takes in your blood-soaked ragged appearance. He sees the pale elf and the human wizard behind you and something clicks.

“I know you. The other druids won’t shut up about you. You saved the grove.” He says with a certain measure of awe.

“Tell ya what. I need to get rid of most of this stuff before the grove gets sealed shut in a few days, and we do kind of owe you our lives. Take whatever you want. On me.”

You feel guilty accepting gifts from this kind stranger, but you are in desperate need of camp supplies. Astarion doesn’t seem to share your hang-up. He begins grabbing things to stuff in his pack. Another dagger, two small hand-held crossbows, Black armor of some sort. Gale peruses the magical scrolls lined up on the other side of the table. You take the crossbow you originally asked about, intending to take it and it alone, when an amulet catches your eye. A simple black metal chain holding a small silver medallion. Ferre procul is engraved neatly along with a rune you vaguely recognize on the pendant. Upon closer inspection you realize it’s emitting a faint silver light. You think it's a magic storing item, one that would grant its wearer the ability to cast misty step. You pocket the amulet, and thank the merchant profusely before you follow Astarion and Gale toward your new camp. You nearly weep with joy at the sight of a fire already made, and the bedrolls laid out around it. You don’t even spare a glance at your companions. You toss your bag to the ground and collapse onto the nearest bedroll. Sleep claims you before your head hits the pillow.

----

Tag tiiiiiime.

This list is getting long 0-0

@aoirohi

@tamwritesstuff

@smaranshakthi

@perseny

@stronglycoffeescented-blog

@hadesbabygurl

@y2cade

@screechingphantommaker

@whoopsitsloobis

@coratatum

@rando-no-5

@usuallyunlikelyfox

@kamartsu

@yaimlight

@h3ll0k1ttyl0ver333

@vulgarfuckinvirgo77

@ellie1725

@skittleabyss

@nari1837

@bitchyzombienacho

@otayz

@yggiboo

@alexandritgreylock

@grimissleepy

@raygunny

@thedevilssinner

@mythoughtsofinsanity

@olitheghost

Okay I think that's it. Lemme know if I missed ya.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #baldur's gate iii #bg3 #bg3 astarion #reader insert

[ch0wen]

If you're still taking requests I loooovvveddddd the possessive Tangerine getting in the bar fight if you could do something like that or a continuation of that!!

A/N: Thaaaank you for the love, Meg!!! :) This popped into my head first thing when brainstorming for jealous Tangerine. I'm sorry if it's not quite what you were hoping for but hopefully, it's a fun read...

Tempting the Target | Tangerine x fem!reader

warnings: mention of sexual content, violence, and cursing

You feel the heat. It’s boring through the back of your head. Spreading across the side of your face. Pinking your cheeks. Your skin is getting hotter and hotter. How can one person create this much of a reaction without even touching you?

Maybe because the source of the heatwave is your very attractive and very overprotective partner, Tangerine. You can feel his silent rage but don't want to risk looking over at him to confirm. It's safe to assume his handsome face is scrunched up in irritation because you’re currently flirting with a man named Paul.

"A little green-eyed monster is creeping out," Lemon sing-songs while flipping through his magazine. The Twins are a few rows down out of Paul's sight. Lemon with his back to you and Tangerine opposite to monitor.

Tangerine swipes at his nose causing his brother to guffaw.

“Not a bogey, you git! You're jealous. And that don't make much sense, since you’re the one who suggested she’d be the decoy.”

Tangerine glares at Lemon, “do not put this on me. She was begging to help out and your incessant encouragement that she'd be ‘proper amazing’ or ‘really time you put some trust in her, Tan,’ didn't help at all."

“That’s not what I sound like, right?”

Tangerine’s glare was enough of an answer for Lemon.

“Fuck you. Alls I know is she is doing a good job keeping him distracted and occupied. You’re just possessive as shit.”

Paul, the target, is playfully toying at your ankle which was previously stroking against his calf. You take it as a sign to get closer. He determines your next move before you can by grabbing your hips to tug you forward to straddle his lap. Tangerine is blowing a long expel of air out of his nose while he watches. Fortunately, the noise of frustration is only heard by Lemon. Who pauses his newly begun story to snicker at his brother’s annoyance.

“You’re not listening.”

“Haven’t you said that’s one of my faults?” he grits out.

“Oh! So you do listen?”

One checkpoint in this mission was to figure out how to stun Paul without killing him. The Twins were hired to locate this man and bring him back to Vincenzo, a stereotypical Italian Mafia boss. Apparently, Paul worked alongside him before going AWOL and owes him a lot of money and knows too much. The Twins really dumbed down the explanation of this operation to you while driving to the station. All you knew was that you got a chance to help out your boyfriend and his brother. They’re finally letting you into their world. And it felt amazing.

But their most important focus, since letting you tag along, was that they wanted you to stay safe. So, your task was to seduce Paul into thinking he’s about to have a quick fuck in the train bathroom. Only to be met with one of the Twins who will stun him, out of the public eye, and haul his unconscious body off the train once arriving at Cinque Terre, where they’ll meet with Vincenzo’s goons.

But that was with the impression that you could just use your charm to lure Paul to the bathroom. They underestimated just how shamelessly horny this guy could be. He knows there are at least two other people in this train car with him but here he is sneaking his hands up your dress.

Tangerine's eyes never left you. He was watching. Monitoring. While it was torture to see you get groped by this scumbag, he knew it was all a part of the plan. But the idea of Paul actually believing he could get lucky with you makes his hands grip the armrests even tighter. They’re meant to let this play out but this feels wrong, and he’d be damned if the guy’s fingers creep any further up your leg.

You mask any indication that you’re uncomfortable with Paul’s hands all over you by nervously laughing. To men that just sounds like flirtatious giggles. Good cover. He buries his face into your neck, the way Tangerine does to breathe you in in the mornings when he grants himself a few extra lazy moments to stay in bed. To ignore the disgust in the pit of your stomach, risk ruining the plan, and disappoint the Twins, you’re putting yourself in this recent memory of Tangerine grabbing for you after work. His hands transform into Tan’s, which are now gripping too harshly at your hips. 'His' newly shaved face rubbing against your sensitive skin. 'His' dick pressing against you…-

okay, that’s enough!

He is not Tangerine. You’re realizing you’re truly in over your head thinking you could disconnect enough to assist them in a mission.

From the angle you’re perched on Paul’s lap, you can see over his seat. You steal a glance towards the Twins. Tangerine’s eyes immediately find yours. They were empty. You can’t react fast enough to send him any sign of reassurance. But his look was a confirmation that you needed to stop whatever this was. You pull back to stare down at Paul. Forcing a smile. Hands caress his chest as you climb off of him.

You fake a seductive look before sauntering down the aisle toward the restroom. Your fingers dance over Tangerine's arm as you pass as a form of comfort. It's assumed Paul was too focused on your departure to notice the secret interaction. But Tangerine doesn't miss the way Paul's eyes are glued to your ass, with your dress partially hiked in the back.

"Fuck the plan," he seethes.

He’s up. Slamming Paul's head into the window. Lemon is incoherently scolding Tangerine while lunging out of his seat after him. You freeze in your tracks at the sound of commotion. Once you spin around you’re greeted with Tangerine’s blind frenzy.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Your words fall on deaf ears. Tangerine’s fist pounds into Paul’s lip. It’s evident that the initial blow to the window knocked him out immediately. The guy’s limp body shook with Tangerine's beating. His strong thighs pinned him to the ground. Each collision to his face spits out blood that was pooling in his mouth. Some of it splattered on Lemon’s sleeve during his efforts to stop his raging brother.

“Oh, come on. You got blood on me, you twat.”

“Tan, stop it! Lemon. People could come through at any second. Please do something.”

As Tangerine revs his arm back for another swing, Lemon grabs it to harshly stop him. Pinning it down tight against his back. Tangerine squirms to break out of his hold. But Lemon smacks him upside the head in what only can be described as a brotherly fashion.

Tangerine is panting. Paul lays unmoving underneath him. His chest still rising and falling. The only telltale sign that Tangerine didn't kill him.

"I guess I'm on clean-up duty," Lemon huffs as he shoves Tangerine out of the way.

____

You're all sat in silence. Tangerine next to you; face stoic but thigh bouncing through the remaining adrenaline. In the aftermath, he was a second away from dragging you off to the bathroom to rid himself faster of this chemical imbalance. But Lemon was grumbling insults as he tidied up, and Tangerine wanted to avoid the chances of a full-on scolding from Lemon for sneaking off to fuck after wreaking havoc. Your hand rests on his leg; slowing it to a stop.

Lemon is sitting opposite you, next to Paul. His hands are bound with a phone charger below the table to avoid suspicion from a passerby.

“This definitely was one way to subdue the target.”

As he directs that comment toward Tangerine, he places an angry-looking cartoon train on Paul's forehead. The blood on his face makes his skin tacky and the sticker loses its adhesive. Causing it to slowly slide down the bridge of his nose, almost like a real train disembarking out of a station down some winding tracks.

"But it was a bit of an overkill."

"Lem. I'll shove that sticker book so far down your fucking throat."

#tangerine and lemon #tangerine x reader #tangerine x fem!reader #asks #request #aaron taylor johnson #bullet train 2022 #bullet train #tangerine smut

[reds-skull]

Not Alive, Nor Dead

[PREV PART] [AO3]

Bit of a late update! Was playing cod lmao

Went into this chapter not knowing what to do with the two idiots, but the moment I put them in a room together, they just start writing themselves...

Also, the formatting on Google Docs decided to fucking change out of nowhere and it really annoyed me.

Price frowns at the three of them, displeasure and concern flitting in his eyes as he examines the state they’re in. Ghost is sure they’re quite the sight. Soap’s head is covered in blood, his eyes red from crying and with a pale skin, he looks like a bad cosplay of a zombie. Ghost is so tense he feels like his bones will snap, his muscles about as cooperative as a stone wall. Gaz is faring better appearance wise, but the Sergeant has been uncharacteristically quiet ever since they landed.

“Well? I assume you’ve found something.” Price squints, still unsure of what he’s supposed to do with his soldiers.

Ghost takes it as a signal for him to begin debrief, and he stands up on shaky legs, muscles screaming in protest, “no intel, two revenants extracted.”

The Captain sighed, clearly hoping for more. The other 2 teams haven’t found anything, the PMC disappearing like it usually does, “any hostiles?”

Now there’s something major they can give Price, “undetermined amount, non-human, sir.”

Price’s attention is caught, the previous frustrations gone, “explain.”

“They don’t have a face, take several headshots to kill, and turn to some sort of smoke when taken out.” Ghost resumes, “they all communicate somehow, the moment one of them spotted Soap, all of them rushed to him.”

Price strokes at his moustache, “I fear we’re not working against a PMC here, boys. This could be the work of one very sneaky revenant.”

Ghost has heard of similar powers in the past - corpse manipulation, illusions, mirroring. None of them exactly fit what they fought, though.

It seems they know even less than what they started with.

“What’s the status on the two revenants?” Price asks.

Ghost looks over at Gaz, who snapped out of his thoughts to answer, “unconscious, both of them. Medics said they’ll wake in a few.”

The Captain nods, “we’ll get them to questioning once they’re up for it. They’re our only lead for now.” he turns to Soap, expression softening a tad, “you solid, son?”

Johnny’s eyebrows raise, and he nods slowly, “aye, it healed already.”

And that means he’s miraculously fine, Ghost internally scoffs. Price obviously heard that, as he says, “take the day off, MacTavish. And get yourself clean, for goodness’ sake, you’re gonna scare a Vaquero to death and Alejandro will hunt me for sport.”

The Scot chuckles, “copy that, Cap”

“That goes for the rest of you muppets, I don’t want to see any of you before the revenants wake up, that clear?”

“Crystal.” Ghost grumbles.

After everyone else exited the room, Ghost made eye contact with Price. “Found a lead on Soap’s Reaping.”

Price’s brows furrowed, “there’s a reason it’s redacted, Simon. I can’t just go around and investigate every military cover up.”

Never stopped any of us…

“I’m trying to keep heat off of you, not endanger you further.” Price crosses his arms.

Ghost huffs, “with all due respect, sir, that’s a load of crap if I ever heard it. You know I’m not gonna forget about it, and I know you’re going to help me in the end.”

They stare at each other for a minute before Price groans, “what do you have for me, Ghost?”

He smirks under the mask. Can always trust Price to come through, “not enough, just a name.”

The Captain raises an eyebrow.

“Konchar. Supposedly, Johnny killed him after he downed his squad, but the Sergeant wasn’t… too coherent at that point.” Soap’s screams still echo in the back of his mind, the way memories have ravaged his Sergeant… it leaves a gaping hole in his chest.

“I’ll talk to Laswell, see what she can do. Don’t be surprised if she finds nothing.”

“I know not to expect good outcomes at this point in life.”

Ghost shuts the door behind him, clocking in a presence on the wall near it. He turns around to find Soap leaning on it, still as bloody as he was in debrief.

“Thought Price ordered you to clean up”, Ghost comes to stand in front of him, trying not to let his Sergeant see just how much his legs are shaking.

Soap gives him a lopsided smile, “decided I look better covered in blood and dust, some people are into that y’know.”

He probably saw Ghost’s unimpressed eyes, because his smile drops, and he looks away for a moment, “wanted to wait fer ye.”

Fuckin’ hell, he hopes Price can’t feel how his chest warmed up like someone lit a firework in his gut, “let’s get you to the showers then, no one is attracted to your stench.”

Johnny pushed off the wall, “I’m sure there’s at least one”

Ghost starts walking besides him, “don’t count on it-”

His left leg decided to give out at that exact moment, and Ghost inhales sharply, fully expecting to have a very up close and personal meeting with the floor, when two hands grab him.

Johnny pulls him back up, “shit, Ghost! Ye didn’t tell me yer fuckin’ broken!” he leads Ghost to lean on the wall.

“I’m not-fuck…” Ghost hisses as his leg muscles convulse, “not injured… Limbo was trying to get you, had to hold it back…”

Flames lick at his biceps, and he wants to close his eyes and indulge in how they relax his aching arms.

Soap doesn’t look convinced, and he gives Ghost a determined look. “Let’s go to yer barrack, closer than the showers.” He wraps Ghost’s arm around his shoulders, and makes him lean on the Scot.

Warmth spreads throughout him, “Johnny, I can fuckin’ walk-”

Soap starts walking, “aye, I saw how that worked fer ye before, haud yer wheesht.”

Ghost retorts, “English, Sergeant.”

“Shut yer mouth and let me help ye.” He takes them slowly to Ghost’s room.

“Much better.”

Soap looks up at him, annoyed, before he breaks character and laughs. It almost distracts Ghost from the pain in his limbs.

Johnny lets him off on the lower bunk bed, and turns around to close the door. He stands awkwardly in the middle of the room when Ghost pats the space beside him.

Soap joins him and Ghost exhales, lowering himself further into the bed. He takes stock of the various degrees of discomfort coursing through his body, and feels his Sergeant shift.

“I’m uh… sorry fer what happened there.” Ghost lifts his head to frown at him.

“You’re sorry for getting shot in the head? Fuckin’ hell Soap-”

Johnny twists his body to face Ghost fully, “fer not recognising ye! For shouting and demanding shit, fer making ye deal with teenage me, Reapers know he was a feckin’ idiot.”

Ghost lifts himself back up to tower over his Sergeant, “you wanted me to leave you alone?”

Soap’s face scrunches up in confusion, but his eyes… they shine brightly with his radiant fire, “I- didn’t want you to… see that.” he breaks eye contact, looking away a little flushed.

“I wouldn’t let you go through that alone, Johnny.” He looks at the familiar flames brighten, “no running away, remember?”

Johnny’s features crumple, and slowly, telegraphing the movement clearly, he places a hand over Ghost’s forearm, moving up and down gently. Ghost is fixated on the motion, his world reducing to the point of contact, the heat it emanates.

“Aye, I remember.” Johnny almost whispers, his face still pained, and Ghost doesn’t understand why. Fuck, he wishes he could read minds like Price. “It’s just… I didn’t want ye to see it… but I think I needed it.” 

Ghost nods, as if he has the capacity to contain everything going through him at the moment.

Johnny finally meets his eyes, “I’ve never met anyone like ye, Simon. Ye make me think I’m human.”

Simon’s heart beats twice as fast at hearing his name whispered like that, and he swallows deep buried confessions, words that should never be let out to the air between them, “you are human.” 

“No. And neither are you. But we could pretend, right?” Johnny gives him a smile, and removes his hand from Simon’s. He wants to chase the heat, but knows better than to try and claim something so luminous such as that.

Simon closes his eyes, as if that would help the temptation, “we could pretend.”

When he opens his eyes again, he notices the stains of red still marring Soap’s head. Simon groans as he stretches towards the side table next to the bed, rummaging through one of the drawers.

Johnny leans in, “what are ye lookin’ fer?”

He grabs the pack of wet wipes and groans again on his way back to his previous position, “bring your face here, Sergeant.”

Johnny raises a brow but follows Simon’s lead. He opens the pack and fishes out a couple wipes, “stay still.”

Simon takes Johnny’s chin and turns his face to the side, bringing the wipe up and cleaning his temples with the same concentration and accuracy he would use in the field to line up a sniper shot. He uses up several, leaving a pile of pale pink wipes on the bed between them, but once the right side is clean he turns Johnny’s head again, observing how he closed his eyes.

He puts too much trust in him, Simon thinks to himself. He can’t help but feel comforted by the fact.

He cleans the left temple, following the small rivers the blood made on Johnny’s cheek. Once he’s done, he takes a few seconds to just… gaze at Johnny. He doesn’t avert his eyes when Johnny’s flutter open, the bright blue completing the vision he is.

They sit in silence for what feels like hours, just looking for the sake of it, just staring because they can. Because they both survived today.

A yawn from Soap breaks the spell they were both trapped in. “You still reek, Sergeant. Get yourself to showers and fuckin’ sleep.” Ghost gathers the used up wipes from the bed.

Soap hesitates, and gets up. “Aye sir. I… thank ye. Fer everything.”

Ghost doesn’t look at him, “don’t mention it.”

The door clicks behind his Sergeant, and Ghost makes to lay down. He’s too fucking exhausted to drag himself to the top bunk.

He settles in, staring up at the bars supporting the mattress above him. For once his mind is calm, his chest is warm, and all he can think about is the phantom feeling of flames caressing his forearm.

Ghost supposes he was dead tired, as he falls asleep more easily than he remembers he was ever capable of. 

He startles awake to the feeling of multiple hands grasping at him, “FUCKIN’-” Ghost jumps away from the bed, watching the hands return to the ground.

He suppresses a shiver while he notes the sun starting to set. Did it really take the bastards of Limbo several hours to try that shit on him?

Maybe his good mood leaked to them. He won’t look a gifting horse in the mouth.

Price’s voice fills his mind, “glad you feel better, Sleeping Beauty. Up and at ‘em, Lieutenant. The revenants woke up.”

Ghost opens the door to see the Captain smoking on a half-spent cigar. “You really have nothing better to do than stand and wait for me to get up?”

Price takes another breath of smoke, “I know when you start waking up, Simon.”

Right, Price probably knows his own brain better than himself.

“That’s for certain. Let’s move.”

When they reach medical, Ghost unfortunately spots Graves out of everyone looking around the beds. The fuck is he searching for?

“Revenants are in the back, behind the curtain. We wait for Soap and Gaz here.” Price informs him privately, before calling the American, “Graves, lost a soldier in medical?”

The man whips his head around, covering a surprised face with a shitty smile, “John! Just making sure none of our forces got hurt in the latest mission.” the bullshit couldn’t smell stronger, Ghost rolls his eyes.

Johnny and Garrick open the doors, and Ghost watches Graves’ face curl into shock for half a second before returning to its usual, easy going smile. Strange tosser, that one. Ghost wouldn’t trust him with a dart gun at his 6.

“Ghost”, Johnny approaches him, and he immediately turns his attention to his Sergeant, “you solid?”

“Affirm” he walks nearer to him, standing at attention.

Price nods to Gaz, probably exchanging a couple of words through his power, and addresses the group, “Vargas and Parra are busy with managing the base, they let us know we can go ahead and speak with the revenants. Keep questions to a minimum, they’re likely still disoriented from the entire ordeal.”

The soldiers nod and walk to the back, staying a step behind the Captain as he slowly moves the curtains to the side.

Ghost analyzes the two sitting in their beds. One man, light brown hair and moustache, fit, dog tags peeking above his hospital gown. Soldier, American, if Ghost had to guess. The other, a woman, instantly locked eyes with the captain, a band holding her long dark brown hair back. Her skin glistens oddly at the setting sun’s light, her brown eyes piercing and alert.

He looks back at Price, and is surprised to see shock over his features. He’s about to ask what’s got him like that when he starts talking.

“Commander Karim?”

The woman’s face relaxes, giving the Captain a sharp nod, “Captain Price. I would prefer if we stopped meeting this way.”

Shoutout to forestshadow-wolf for guessing correctly who the revenants were! I was impressed haha

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod ghost #cod soap #cod gaz #cod price #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #phillip graves #alex keller #farah karim #revenant au #call of duty fic #call of duty fanfic #call of duty modern warfare #cod fic #cod fanfic #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #I love slow burn because like #these fuckers just touch each other in what looks like on the outside a friendly casual way #but inside theyre both dying yearning for each other #my fave book has the main couple only hug right at the end #and i wanted to die from how emotional that moment was #they never say they love each other #so you can tell what im going for here lmao

[in-a-daddy-state-of-mind]

My Favorite Addiction (Drabble)

Pairing: Javier Peña x gn! reader

Summary: Your only addiction is the sight of Javier Peña in the morning

Word Count: 794 

Warnings: Mention of smut, Mentions of drugs and drug trafficking, I think that’s it but let me know if there is anything else. Just in case MINORS DNI

Notes: Just the idea of waking up next to this man would not leave me so I thought might as well put it down! Very excited to start writing more. This is the first thing I post here so aaaaaa let me know thoughts. 

If you had one addiction it was to the sight of Javier Peña in the morning. You always woke up before him and got to see perhaps the only moments when this man was fully relaxed. He was all golden skin, broad shoulders, and messy curls.

It hadn’t always been like this. The first messy encounters you had with Peña didn’t lead to morning afters where you got to stare at his sleeping figure. The first times were all supposed to be the last. You accidentally went to the same party, you accidentally ended up in the same bar, you accidentally were rooming in the same hotel. All with the same ending of you quickly dressing and leaving Peña, checking every corner to see if no one saw you. No one could see you. Pablo Escobar’s accountant couldn’t be sleeping with a DEA agent.

And yet it became an addiction. The more you tried to resist it the more you found Peña’s arms. No one fucked you like he did. Your second favorite view was the look of concentration mixed with pleasure as you two fucked to the soundtrack of your screams. God, Javier Peña was the best lay you ever had and you were enchanted.

You knew the dangers of it but you couldn’t bring yourself to regret that first night in a dim lit club far away from Escobar’s prying eyes. His soft lips on yours, his hands finding your bare skin, his arousal making itself known against your legs, his soft curls between your fingers. In retrospect, that was when you doomed yourself.

Javi slowly moves shifting to face you and rub the sleep from his eyes.

“Good morning.” He whispers in his raspy morning voice.

Another beautiful thing you just couldn’t get enough of.

“You staring at me again, cariño?”

As much as you tried to hide it he knew all your secrets. You still didn’t know why he wanted you to be an informant it felt like he could tell everything he needed to know from you without even asking.

“Guilty.” You whisper back as he makes his way to find your lips.

You kiss him back softly. The morning kisses are always different from the nights. Softness making way from the hunger. Comfort being drawn from the passion. You couldn’t decide what you liked best.

“Do you want to stay? Maybe go grab some breakfast. I’m off of work today.” Peña asks in a tone that sounds almost hopeful.

“I can’t, Javi. They’ll start wondering.”

You hate denying him. You hate having to leave. But after that first time, after you slept with Peña and was quickly escorted after to Pablo for him to explain exactly who you had just shared a bed with, you knew what you were getting into. This was the price for keeping Javier Peña.

“Escobar can fuck off.” Peña mutters protectively wrapping his arms around you.

“You know it’s not that simple.” You utter avoiding looking him in the eye.

Instead you choose to trace the veins in his arm. Trying to distract yourself from what you know comes next.

“Yeah. I know.” Javi utters. “I’m a death sentence.”

“One I signed willingly.” You joke opening a small smile.

He moves his hand to cup your cheek, brushing away a piece of hair that fell on your eyes. You look back up and meet his eyes. His eyes. You loved those eyes.

“I could take you away. I could put you somewhere he wouldn’t find you.” He pleads.

“We talked about this. He would find me. If not, he would kill my family.”

“You’re not even an informant.”

“Yeah, but you are the enemy. I’m supposed to stay away.”

“We could stop seeing each other.” Javi suggests scared you will actually say yes to it. You had in the past but it never stuck before. Nonetheless he fears.

“Sure. We could. But I would give us two weeks before one of us breaks and we are back here again.”

You laugh together with him before he returns to attack your lips.

Somehow enemy didn’t feel like the right title for him anymore. You couldn’t fit those words and the man you grew to know together in your head. You desperately wanted to, but you fell to his charms and you don’t think there’s any going back.

So instead you lay around with him a little longer. You kiss and hold each other until you finally get up and get dressed. Almost like routine you make your way out of his dingy apartment and back to your own. All the way the only thing in your mind continues to be how Javier Peña was the most addictive and dangerous drug you had come upon.

#javier peña #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x you #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x you #javier peña x reader #narcos #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fluff #fluff

[gay-dorito-dust]

Part 7 of deadweight, please?? It’s such a good series!

Vax, Vex, Keyleth and Percy were quick to abandon the original plan in finding the vestige in the hopes of finding you and so far they weren’t so lucky.

Every dark shade that they’d believe to be you was a mere fluke in a realm where it felt like you were on some strange LSD acid trip 24/7. They didn’t know how you could split off from them when you were right next to them through the journey here.

Keyleth believed that it might’ve been the realm, taking offence to your position as the raven queens champion. It was a plausible reason seeing how everything reacted negatively towards you lately.

Vax, Vex and Percy however collectively agreed that their Druid party member just had a bad spell casting capabilities. She was making an attempt which is what counts.

“Do you think they’ll ever forgive us?” Keyleth asked the question that was truly on everyone’s mind but they all knew the answer to that too.

“No.” Vax answered bluntly, “they’d be pissed if our method of reconciliation with them was to sweep all the shit we’ve done to them under the rug.”

“That’ll be the equivalent of kicking a man while he’s down.” Percy pitched in, “We’d be disregarding their feelings and experiences if we did that.”

“So our only option in making it up to them is to acknowledge that we were cunts and promise to be better for the future.” Vex finished as they continued to delve deeper into the woods. “Wherever they are,” she continues, “I hope they’re alright.”

[with you]

“VAX, VEX, KEYLETH, PERCY! IM GOING TO KILL YOU! AND THEN KILL YOU AGAIN!” You screamed as you ran further into a dense, dead forest to escape from the murderous vegetation that had been trailing you. All you did was step on some weird looking flower! You apologised afterwards! What more could they fucking want!

When you didn’t hear the rampaging horde of angry plants did you dare to look back to see that they had seemingly lost sight of you and gave up the hunt in order to head back home. “Weird.” You said to yourself, sheathing your daggers but before you were about to continue trekking the foreign land for your party members.

a voice called out to you from deep within the forest, causing you to become in some sort of trance as though your body was no longer yours to control anymore as you could only watch yourself walk through the dead forest, through some sickly looking swamp of thick black goo like substance as though it were water.

“You’re friends aren’t coming to save you my dear,” the voice said. “They’re too preoccupied with the vestige to worry about your well being.” It then chuckled before continuing, “your need for companionship is quite pathetic. You feel alone whenever you in a room with the rest of your party. Alienated, ostracised, outcasted from the group of outcasts.”

“I, however, can provide you all the companionship you will ever need, all you need to do is come to me. Come to me. Come to me. Come to me.”

Your body did as this voice told you as you watched it reach a dead tree trunk that opened up with an ominous red glow. As soon as you stepped inside, the tree was quick to close up behind you, sealing you in with whatever monster laid inside.

“That’s not good.” Warned a horned mystery figure with fiery hair sat upon a rock. “I must tell their friends that their little warrior mate is in danger, grave danger should they hear out Saurndor terms and conditions.” With a blink of an eye, the figure had dissipated in thin air.

[back to vox maxhina]

They’ve searched

And searched

And searched

But they had yet to still find evidence that you weren’t dead in a ditch somewhere but Percy, Vax, Vex and Keyleth believed that they were getting close, though how close was close was still up for debate.

“Ugh! They could be anywhere by now!” Vex cries as she and the others crossed a riven, annoyed at the lack of progress. How could they miss a armoured figure with black feathered shoulder pads in a realm of eye straining, migraine inducing colour?!

Either you were trying to find them also or…Vex didn’t want to think about the other option. They’ve lost you once, they were determined to never loose you again. They still had unresolved problems to put to rest.

“They couldn’t have possibly gone to Syngorn?” Percy asked, looking back they way they came as though waiting to see your silhouette encroach in on them but nothing. The gunslinger sighs in disappointment and dissatisfaction as he pinched the skin between his brows.

“Fat chance.” A unknown voice told them.

Percy, Vax, Vex and Keyleth turned to look who it was only to see a fiery haired being with horns sat not too far from them, notebook in hand.

Vax was quick to pull of his dagger, “who are you and what have you done with y/n?” He threatens but the horned male merely laughed as though he was threatened with a stick rather then a sharpened piece of forgery.

“I haven’t done anything to them, but Lord Saundor will should you fail to reach them in time.” He muses, still drawing in his little notebook.

“What is that meant to mean?” Percy said gutturally, holding his gun at the being who seemingly knew your whereabouts. “Who’s Saundor?”

“That’s for you to know and for you to find out.” The figure cheeked before pointing towards the dead forest that Keyleth, Vax, Vex and Percy seemed to somehow miss in their mission of searching for you.

“They’re currently under his trance. I should’ve told them to not listen to him but by the time I got to them, they were already walking right into his trap. Poor thing, whatever ails them must take a heavy toll on them.”

Vax, Vex, Percy and Keyleth looked to each other in shame and sorrow. Whatever this saurdon did to you, must’ve been using your most deeply desired against you, they had indirectly made you dispensable to him and now this was their chance to make up for everything by saving you.

“Lead us there and we’ll think about letting you live.” Vex said.

“VEX, VAX, KEYLETH, PERCY! IM GOING TO KILL YOU! AND THEN KILL YOU AGAIN!”

“VAX, VEX, KEYLETH, PERCY! IM GOING TO KILL YOU! AND THEN KILL YOU AGAIN!”

“VAX, VEX, PERCY, KEYLETH! IM GOING TO KILL YOU! AND THEN KILL YOU AGAIN!” You screamed as you ran into a forest area with weird looking plants trailing you with murderous intent.

“VEX, VAX, KEYLETH, PERCY! I WILL KILL YOU! AND THEN KILL YOU AGAIN!” You screamed as you ran deeper into a weird looking forest area with even weirder looking plants tailing after you with murderous intent.

“VEX, VAX, PERCY, KEYLETH IM GOING TO KILL YOU! AND THEN KILL YOU AGAIN!” You screamed as you ran as fast as your legs could carry you deeper into the woods as weird freaking plant fucks were tailing you

#tlovm imagines #tlovm imagine #tlovm x you #tlovm x reader #vox machina x reader #vox machina imagines #vox machina imagine #vox machina x you #vax x reader #vax’ildan x reader #vax’ildan imagine #vax’ildan imagines #vex’ahlia x reader #vex’ahlia imagine #vex’ahlia imagines #percy de rolo x reader #Percy de rolo x you #Percy de rolo imagines #Percy de rolo imagine #keyleth imagine #keyleth x reader #keyleth imagines #Keyleth x you

[specialagentlokitty]

Daryl x reader - take on the world together

Part 12:

Every time Spencer woke up you would sing for him, and in the mor hung Hershel came to check on him.

Daryl was sat above his head, holding a damp cloth there to try and bring down his slightly high temperature.

“He doesn’t seem to be responding to the medication, I can up the dosage but not by much.” Hershel said.

“Whatever you need to do.” Daryl said.

You had stepped outside with Carol and Beth, who were trying their best to comfort you.

Rick walked in, kneeling next to the bed.

“We can sent Tyreese, Michonne, Glenn and Maggie to two different stores.”

Daryl nodded his head, swapping the cloth for one Hershel handed him.

Rick looked out of the cell door before looking back in.

“You know what this looks like?” He asked.

“He ain’t been bit.” Daryl said.

“I know, he never leaves yours or (Y/N)s sight, but Daryl we know these signs…” Rick whispered.

He walked over, kneeling next to them all again.

“Listen to me Rick, he ain’t been bitten, he ain’t turnin’.”

“Maybe not, but Daryl if he is (Y/N) can’t do it.”

Daryl clenched his jaw, looking at his friend.

“Nobody is doing nothin’ to this boy, you hear me? Ain’t nobody gonna hurt him, ain’t nobody gonna fuckin’ kill me!”

They stared at each other for a few minutes.

“He’s sick, that’s it, kids get sick all the time we just gotta find him some shit to make it better.”

“We’re going to do everything we can.” Hershel said.

Daryl nodded, and he lifted Spencer into his arms, holding him against his chest.

“Ain’t nothin’ happening to this boy, I gave my word.”

“I’ll send them today, they’ll be back by dark.” Rick said.

Daryl nodded his head, watching as the two left and you came back in.

You sat next to Daryl, resting your head on his shoulder and holding Spencer’s hand.

“He’s gonna be fine.”

Daryl rested his head on yours and you nodded.

That’s when everything went downhill, with one of the others getting sick that same night then turning, and there was a mass quarantine put in place.

Daryl had to go on a run for the medicine that they needed and he stopped by your cell before leaving.

You stood up, walking to the corner of the cell with him.

“We’ll be quick, in and out that’s all we need.”

You nodded your head.

“How is he?”

“No better, but no worse, I think it’s working. I don’t think he’s got whatever the others have, his scent is different to theirs.”

Daryl nodded, placing his hand on the side of your face and you looked up at him.

“Daryl what if it is the same thing…?”

“Nah, it ain’t, you said it yourself, it’s a different scent. I still don’t get it but I know when you say it’s not the same it ain’t.”

He sighed, running his thumb along your cheek.

“He’s gonna be fine, I’ll make sure of it.”

You nodded again.

He leant down, hovering his lips over yours in the ghost of a kiss and he pulled away.

“We’re gonna be okay…”

“I hope so…”

“We are, have a little more confidence in me, I ain’t dead yet.”

You laughed weakly.

“Yet being the key word here.”

“Maybe if I die I’ll come back like you, have some of those freaky cool powers you have.”

“You wish moron.”

You placed your hand on the back of his head in order to pull him down so you could briefly kiss him again before letting him go.

“Help them…”

“I’ll be back by tomorrow night.”

He kissed your head, walking over to Spencer he covered him up with a sheet and left the cell and you walked back over to the boy.

You laid next to him, an arm around him for protection, only moving when Hershel came to look at him.

You began hearing talks of separating people, the young and old from the rest, the sick, and then keeping their distance from each other.

You kept a close watch on your cell door, and the moment Rick walked through you jumped in front of Spencer.

“No.”

“He needs to go with the others, you and I both know this.”

“Rick I’m not letting you take him.”

Rick sighed slightly.

“He’s sick, just like the others, he needs to be separated so he doesn’t infect you, or anybody else.”

“They’re turning in there! He’ll be at risk!”

“And we’re at risk of him turning here!”

“Then lock the cell!”

Rick shook his head, and drew his gun on you and you immediately reached out for your knife.

“Don’t, I don’t want to hurt you. Or Spencer, we just need to contain whatever this is until they get back.”

“It’s not the same illness.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do!” You hissed.

Rick walked over, his gun still trained on you and he picked up Spencer.

“I don’t want to do this, but I have to. I’m sorry.”

“Rick I swear to god put him down or I’ll kill you, I will rip you limb from limb.”

He slowly backed away and when he was around the corner you walked out your cell.

“Rick I’m warning you…”

“I’m sorry.”

He handed Spencer to Carol who began making her way down the stairs, and you jumped over the railing, blocking their way.

You didn’t care anymore if they found out or not, all you cared about was making sure he wasn’t put in the same cell block as people who were going to turn.

You red eyes stared at him and you took a few deep breath.

“Put him down…”

Everybody in the cell block trained their weapons on you.

“Put him down!” You yelled.

“Get on your knees!” Rick yelled.

“Put Spencer down!”

You both began yelling at each other even more, and someone you didn’t recognise fired a shot into your shoulder which sent you flying back into the wall.

Rick took this as his chance and he slammed the hilt of his gun into your head knocking you out.

You came too, and you were outside in the field, a few guns pointed at you.

“Give me my boy…” you growled.

You slowly stood up, noticing your hands were bound by wire and you looked at him.

“What the fuck are you?” Glenn whispered.

“Give me Spencer!”

“No! He’s safer here!” Maggie yelled.

“Leave.” Rick said.

You snapped your eyes to him, pulled your wrists apart snapped the restraints.

“No.”

“Either you leave or I put a bullet in your brain. I’m not letting you get the boy.”

You looked at the prison then back to him.

“If he dies, if he turns, if he’s attacked in any way, if you hurt him or upset him, if anything, and I mean anything happens to him I’m going to kill you Rick. You personally.”

You slowly backed away, and you turned around, running over to the gate you cleared it in a jump and began to run down the road.

You knew where they went to go look for supplies, and you’d be able to get there if you were quick and help them.

And you were, you were quick enough to see that they found themselves in a difficult spot.

You jumped up on the little separate roof, and you smashed the window in for them.

“Come on!” You yelled.

You helped them out one by one, and Daryl looked at you in confusion.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I fucked up Daryl, okay? I fucked up.”

You ran a hand through your hair and spun around when you saw Bob struggling with his bag and the walkers.

Rushing over, you grabbed the bag and hauled it up.

It was light for somebody who was supposed to be getting medical supplies, and you handed it over to Daryl.

“I swear to god I’ll kill him…”

“Wait here.”

Daryl walked away and you you took a few deep breaths to try and calm yourself down.

You walked over, taking the bottle from the bag you tossed it as far as you could and took the bag, tossing it behind you.

“I’ll get actual fucking medicine, go back. Now.”

“Go! Quickly!”

Daryl turned to you.

“Daryl looked after him, make sure nothing happens to him. Promise me that.”

“You’re coming back dumbass.”

“They know, I can’t. I can’t go back. I.. I lost my temper, okay? Rick took Spencer, isolated him with the rest. I’ll get what you need, I’ll bring it back. I’ll throw it over the gate, so keep looking there.”

Daryl placed his hands on your face.

“Nah, you’re coming back I don’t give a shit what they say.”

“You need to go back, it’s been done. I can’t change that.”

You leant up, kissing him before quickly pulled away.

“Go! I’ll deal with this.”

He seemed conflicted and you nudged him away from the building.

“Go!”

You made sure they had gotten away before you made your way inside, looking for any other medications or equipment that could help and you grabbed what you could.

You made your way back to the prison, but you had to wait until dark to leave the bag.

You crouched behind some trees, just waiting, and the moment the sun was fully set out crept over, jumping over the gate.

You set the bag down somewhere safe where they would be able to see it, and jumped back over the gate.

You sighed, and you began making your way back to the forest.

“Don’t.”

You stopped.

“I can see you, come up to the watchtower.”

You looked up at it, the man who was holding the sniper as he looked through it and you cleared the gate once more.

You quickly made your way up the watch tower, and he closed the hatch when you were up.

Daryl set the gun down, and you both sat down.

“I’ll need to go before Dawn.” You said.

“Fine, but you better come back tomorrow, got that?”

You just nodded your head and he crouched in front of you.

“How is he…?”

“Fine, Hershel agrees with you that it ain’t the same illness, Rick’s got a black eye, and they’re talking about what to do with Spencer and you.”

You snapped your gaze to him.

“Don’t stress it, Spencer is gonna stay, gonna stay in my care. They’re talking about letting you back in, but the ones that saw are reluctant.”

“I’ll keep bringing you thing you need, from further away.”

“Hey, you don’t have to do that, they tossed you out.”

“But before they did they took me in, that still counts for something. As long as they look after Spence then I’ll keep helping.”

You stood up, and you began to pace back and forth.

“Have they asked you about it yet?”

“Nah, I punched Rick when I got back for kicking you out, talked to Hershel, then came here, ain’t seen them since.”

You slowly nodded your head.

“I’ll go see him tomorrow, come back tomorrow night and I’ll tell you more.”

You nodded again, and you walked over to leave the watch tower but he stopped you, his hand stretched out to grab your wrist.

“Stay.”

“Daryl.”

“Stay.” He repeated.

You sighed, but you sat down next to him, resting your head on his shoulder, looking at your intertwined fingers.

You felt him lay down, and he pulled you to lay next to him, both of you just staring up at the top of the watchtower without a word

#the walking dead x reader #the walking dead x you #the walking dead x y/n #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead #twd x reader #twd x you #twd x y/n #twd imagine #twd #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon

[padfootagain]

Stars in the Evening

Hello everyone! Just felt like writing a little something for our dear Obi, so here we go! (Quite proud of this one, btw, ngl...)

I hope you all like it! Tell me what you think about it!

****

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x reader

Warnings: Mentions of warfare and grieving, sad, hurt/comfort

Summary: This war has taken its toll on you, but Obi-Wan is here to help.

Word Count: 2199

Obi-Wan Kenobi’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

You know that it shouldn’t hurt so much anymore.

You’re at war. It happens. Dying. Killing. Surviving. Death and life mingled like never before.

It’s everywhere, in every corner of the Galaxy, around every sun in the sky. It’s everywhere, after years of fighting, you should be used to it.

You’re not. It hurts. A lot. It hurts to see your friends dying, to see hope slowly vanishing from their eyes, to take lives after lives because it’s the only way, or so they say. You’re not sure anymore. You’re not certain of anything.

You were not trained for this, though. Jedi, these are keepers of the Peace. No generals. No commanders. No soldiers at all.

And now there you are, in the gardens of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, sitting on your own on a bench, and you’re not sure of anything anymore. When you look down at your hands you’re surprised to not find them reddened with blood. When you look up at the stars above your head, you wonder if they’ll still be there tomorrow evening.

You did not expect this life, but there’s no choice, not any real one, at least. There’s the Force. There’s Life. There’s Death. And in between there are innocents to protect. That’s what you keep repeating to yourself; these are the words you believe less and less these days…

There’s one thing steady though, through the tumultuous current. One constant, as unwavering as the speed of light. A shame it’s a forbidden one…

You feel his presence before he appears. You always do. For a long time, you thought it was because of the Force, because of the peculiar way It moves around him. You’re no such fool now, after so many years.

You love him, it’s as simple as that.

When you look up, Obi-Wan is walking towards you, in his brown robes, in his beige clothes and his leather boots. He’s worried, you can tell. He’s got this frown of his, the one he wears when he is saddened or afraid. His beard and hair glimmer in the soft yellow lights of the garden, it’s warm and reassuring. You’re almost ready to smile at the mere sight of him.

Almost… not quite…

His pace slows down as he approaches, blue eyes fixed upon yours, like he’s afraid you’ll run away and disappear if he comes too close. And maybe he’s right. If he approaches, maybe you will flee. It’s easier than to face the truth.

You want him to hold you tight though. You want him to lie to you, lie to you with all he has in him. You just want him to claim that everything will be alright, just for a moment, before the world crumbles down for good.

He stops a couple of steps away from you, head slightly tilted to the side. You want to crumble. You want to let it all out, but you shouldn’t. You can’t. You’re a Jedi. You can’t let your emotions get the better of you…

He’s standing still, wrapped in his warm cloak and silence. No sound of pebbles rolling under his feet anymore. Just the distant buzzing sound of speeders crossing the gigantic city. The quiet whispers of the night. Your breathing, and his.

He lifts his hand to his face to run his fingers through his beard, his other arm crossed before his chest. He’s worried, thinking, weighing his options. You recognize the obvious sign.

“Can I do something for you, Obi-Wan?” you ask him, breaking the silence first.

He stares at you for a moment more before letting out a sigh, and letting his hands fall idly by his side.

That’s how he feels. Idle. Unable to help. He hates it with all his might.

“May I join you?”

You merely nod, scooting over to make some room for him to sit by your side. You look at him as he does so, movements slow and reassuring, soothing. You stare for a moment at his profile as he looks at the gardens before him. Dark blond hair and beard, blue eyes that seem sadder than they should be. When he looks at you and finally speaks, his voice is deep, warm, soothing. Not quite like a friend. Not like a Jedi. He speaks more like a man in love.

Is it so surprising, after all?

“I heard about what happened during your latest mission. I’m sorry.”

“It’s war.”

“Master Lios was a dear friend of yours. I’m terribly sorry.”

You don’t say anything. You can’t. Because there are too many conflicting thoughts in your mind right now, too many feelings you should suppress but you can’t.

You’re grieving a friend. You feel guilty for making it out of this mission alive when your friend didn’t. You feel relieved because Obi-Wan should have come with you to Tattooine, but he was called away to help Anakin at the last minute. And you feel so terribly guilty for being relieved, but you’re glad he wasn’t there, that it wasn’t Obi-Wan who came with you and died.

You shouldn’t feel like that, and yet you do. Because Master Lios was your friend, but Obi-Wan is…

You look up at him again, blue eyes catching your gaze, and the truth is engraved all over your heart.

Obi-Wan is everything.

He looks sad. Filled with pain. Infinite eyes to host a never-ending sorrow. You wish you could make it disappear, but then again, how could you? You feel just the same…

Because you’re at war. Because you’ve killed, because you saw your friend dying, because you love Obi-Wan with every fibre of your being and you’ll always be apart…

You’re a Jedi. But you’re human too. How much pain can a human take before it kills them?

Only when Obi-Wan brushes the tear falling down your cheek with his thumb do you realize you’ve been crying.

“I heard you were wounded,” he goes on, but you shake your head.

“Nothing serious. I’m fine.”

But you’re still crying, you can’t seem to be able to stop. Silent, salted tears you can’t bite back this time.

Before you can say anything else, Obi-Wan wraps his arms around you, holding you close.

He smells of candles, of leather, of warm tea. Linen. Quiet nights. Early mornings.

He smells like home.

You feel safer, all of a sudden. The lie works, and for a moment more, you believe everything will be fine. As long as he holds you close, you’ll be just fine.

He shouldn’t let himself run his fingers through your hair, shouldn’t hold you so tightly, but he can’t help it. Your eyelashes tickle his cheekbone as you close your eyes, your hair feels so smooth between his rough hands. You smell of candles, of koyo melons, of sweet soap. Cotton. Hidden whispers. Quiet dawns.

You smell like home…

“I’m not sure I can do this anymore, Obi,” you confess in a breath, shaky and fragile, words swallowed by the night as soon as they pass your lips. “It’s too hard. And I… I’m so tired…”

“I know. I know…”

“I wish we could run away,” you admit.

You feel him sighing, feel the warmth of his breath against your temple, the movement of his chest as he empties his lungs. When he kisses your forehead, you both know he shouldn’t.

None of you truly care though.

“I wish we could too,” Obi-Wan whispers against your skin, his beard tickling you as he moves his lips. “But we can’t. None of us could live with the guilt if we did. Not now, at least. Not when we are so desperately needed here.”

You nod, although you’re not as convinced as you usually are. You’ve had this talk before, the wise resolution is always the same. This time though, you wish he could change his mind, gather his things, and leave far away…

But then, the war is everywhere, in every corner of the Galaxy, around every sun in the sky. It would be useless. There are too many ghosts to leave behind. They would always end up following you. Besides, if you left, how many more ghosts would be born out of your absence?

He’s right. You know he is. It still hurts all the same.

You tighten your hold on him, fists grasping at the smooth fabric of his clothes. As if holding onto a lifeline.

“What if you’re the next one?” you ask, voicing this fear that’s devouring your heart, that’s keeping you awake at night. Your voice is so drenched with tears, so tight in your throat, you barely recognise it as your own. “What if you leave me? What would I do then? Obi-Wan, what would I do if you died?”

But he shakes his head, holding your face in both his hands, thumbs grazing across the smooth skin of your cheeks in a delicate caress. He smiles.

“I will not pretend that there are no risks at all. But it doesn’t matter, Y/N. I’m here. I'll always be here for you. Don't you know that by now? That I'll never leave? Not really, at least. Not the way it matters."

He takes your hand, guides your palm to rest on his chest, right over his heart, so you can feel its steady beating.

“I should not give it away,” he breathes, words that he shouldn’t say but they’re true all the same. “And yet, it belongs to you. Always have. Always will. Even if something happened out there, I would always look after you. Through the Force. I would always be there.”

You nod, and you don’t need to speak the words for him to know that you feel the same. That your heart belongs to him, that it has for what seems like forever, that it will always belong to him.

“I’m so scared,” you let out in a murmur. “And I know it’s not the Jedi way, but I can’t help it. I’m just… I’m so tired…”

“I know. I know…”

“And this… the way I feel for you… I simply cannot… ignore it. It hurts. It’s painful and maybe… Maybe I love you a little too much, and that's why it hurts sometimes."

You let out a trembling sigh, before leaning to rest your head on Obi-Wan shoulder. He rests his cheek against your hair.

“Do you think I’m weak, for feeling this way?” you ask him.

But he shakes his head, voice hoarse, his throat too tight.

“No, of course not. I think… this is war. And we were taught to love all. How can we fight a war if we’re meant to love and protect even those we must destroy? And we have lost so much already… I do not think you are weak. Not at all. I simply think you’re tired, and in pain. After all you’ve had to live through, it isn’t that surprising. But I also know that you are brave, caring, generous, and loyal to a fault. And I know that no matter how you feel now, tomorrow, when your help is needed, you will answer. Because you were born for this, just like I was. And it is not our way to let others suffer when we can help, even if just a little, even if we can’t save them all.”

You nod, because he’s right. Tomorrow, after a sleepless night, you know perfectly well what will happen. You’ll meditate in your chamber as the sun rises over the skyscrapers, setting their windows on fire. You’ll get dressed. Head for a breakfast you’ll barely touch at all. Laugh at Ahsoka and Anakin and their everlasting banter, because you always do. You’ll talk with Obi-Wan, trying to hide the way you want to kiss his lips every time they move. You’ll train for a while. You’ll wash up and you’ll head to the Council Meeting, and you’ll listen to the reports and you’ll tell about what happened to Lios. And then Master Yoda and Master Windu will turn to you with a new mission, a new village to protect, a new base to evacuate. And you’ll accept, with a bend of your head. Silent. Obedient. Because you know that if you don’t help, no one else will.

“I wish we could be selfish, just for once,” you plead. “I wish you could stay. Just this once. I wish we could both stay and be as we were before all this: a little more innocent; a little more carefree.”

“These times have passed. They are only memories now. But I am still here. I am still here.”

You let him hold you for a little longer. And you wish he would kiss you, but you know he won’t. Because you are both Jedi. Because it would hurt too much to believe in love when dawns are bathed in blood rather than hopes. Because it would hurt him too much if he let himself love you the way he craves to.

Instead, it’s better to hold you tight, and to pretend it’s enough; as if he were certain that the stars above your heads would still be here tomorrow evening...

#obi wan x reader #obi wan x you #obi wan x y/n #obi wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi x you #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan #obi wan kenobi fanfiction #obi wan kenobi oneshot #obi wan fic #sw #sw fanfic #star wars #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

[slusheeduck]

Fictober 2023 Day 23 - Prompt: "You lost it. Well, we lost it." Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Gale was, in actuality, far better at hiding just how bad his condition was than anyone likely thought. The ache in him was constant, maddening—he always hoped it would become something bearable, like background noise, but it never did. It only ever spiked, going from maddening to shatteringly bad with hardly any warning.

When he did quietly speak to Falerin about how he needed an item in the near future, please, he always did so with the first spike. That, he knew from experience, was usually the only warning he got, with anything from a few hours to a few days’ respite before things got truly unbearable, and it was always better to err on the side of caution. He’d pushed himself, early on, and that’s when things had been…decidedly not good.

But this time, he’d made a mistake. He’d felt the first warning stab as they explored Grymforge, but before he could tell Falerin, a wrong step on a trigger had sent the platform he and Karlach had been standing on sailing high up into the air to a scaffolding overhead. Below, Falerin tried stomping on it again, several times, before Astarion shooed him away to investigate it. They watched the vampire shake his head, then Falerin looked up.

“It’s jammed! We’re better off following the path down here!” he called up to them. “We’ll meet you down the way!”

“Unless you die!” Astarion added. “In which case, leave your bags where we can get them!”

“Astarion,” Falerin chided, giving his chest a little smack.

“What? They’ll be dead.”

“You know we can hear you, Fangs!” Karlach called down. She shook her head, hands going to her hips. “Well, looks like it’s you and me, Gale. Looks pretty clear up ahead, but we know better than that, don’t we?”

“Unfortunately, we do.” Gale grimaced, rubbing his chest. Beneath the skin, the orb pulsed painfully. Oh, this wasn’t going to be a wait-a-few-days instance, was it? “But, no choice but to press on. Lead the way.”

The scaffolding was much longer than anticipated, and they lost sight of Falerin and Astarion fairly quickly. Thankfully, it seemed clear of anything that was out to kill them, but there was no telling if their paths would actually meet.

They came to a halt over a large pool of magma, where there was a break in the scaffolding. For a moment, they stopped to assess their situation.

“I…might be able to clear that,” Karlach said, holding up two sets of blazing figures to try and figure out the angle. “Maybe if we’re quick, I could pick you up before there’s any damage done.”

“Too risky,” Gale said, shaking his head. “Not that I don’t trust you imminently, but either way looks like a fiery death. I could probably cast feather fa—” He grit his teeth at a wave of pain that clawed through his ribs, so blinding it took his breath away. It’s as though the orb was punishing him for just thinking about magic. He gripped the railing, a cold sweat dampening his skin despite the heat of the magma.

Karlach watched him with wide eyes. “Gale? You all right?” she asked.

He took a few sharp breaths, trying to swallow down the discomfort. “Just…I just need a…” An artifact, the thing in him hissed. You need an artifact. I need an artifact.

Karlach’s hands hovered for a moment, wanting to help but not wanting to burn him. “I…I’ve got one potion, if that…” She suddenly gasped. “No, it’s your…it’s your thing, isn’t it? The magic thing?” She blanched. “Are you gonna blow?”

Gale shook his head. “Not…immediately.” Probably.

Karlach fretted, looking about. “Fal’s the one that usually helps you, isn’t he? I don’t see him or Asti, and I…Oh!” She pulled off her pack, digging inside. “Hang on, just hang on a tick, Gale. Mama K’s gonna fix you right up. Found this a little while ago, just thought it was pretty, but…” She triumphantly held up a necklace. “This ought to do something, yeah?”

Gale’s entire world honed in on the necklace, magic pulsing toward him like a siren song. There was a rush in his ears, the orb in him roaring in victory at the sight of its prey, and he lunged at it with all the finesse of an addict getting their next hit.

Problem.

In his less-than-coherent state, Gale’s aim wasn’t as good as it could be. And Karlach, as everyone knew, was literally on fire. So has he went to snatch the necklace from her hand, he missed, and his hand instead slammed into her flaming hot skin. He snapped his hand back with a hiss, and in her immediate pulling back, Karlach lost her grip on the necklace. And down, down, down it went to the magma below.

Gale gaped, pain in his chest outweighing the pain in his hand, and before he could stop himself, he whirled around toward Karlach. “You lost it!” he snarled at her.

The words seemed to have been knocked right out of the tiefling, her eyes huge. She probably couldn’t make tears, not in this condition, but based on her expression, she was doing her best not to cry. Even with the orb’s threats, Gale felt his own anger subside, and he stepped back and took a shaky breath.

“Well…we lost it,” he amended quietly, cradling his burned hand.

“I-I’m so sorry, Gale,” Karlach said shakily, the full weight of what had happened in her voice. Gale shook his head, glancing over the edge of the scaffolding. If things got too bad—and maybe they would, he couldn’t say—perhaps the magma would be enough to muffle the blast. Just as he turned to tell Karlach to make the jump and run, he was met with a warhammer right in his face. Like the necklace, this pulsed with enough magic to make the thing in his chest leap in hungry anticipation.

“Take it,” Karlach said. “It’s got an enchantment.”

“Karlach, that’s your weapon,” Gale said, though he couldn’t pull his eyes from it. “I’m not going to leave you defenseless.”

“And I’m not gonna let you get…swallowed up by your orb,” she said, then nudged it toward him. She gave a weak little smile. “Besides, I’m not defenseless. I’ve got a weapon right here…” She flexed her free arm. “And another to match.”

Gale couldn’t demure anymore. He looked up at her with a whispered “Thank you,” then took the hammer and brought it up to his chest. The magic siphoned into him, and the roaring pain dulled back to its usual dull ache. The orb was sated—for now, at least.

Just as the hammer crumbled in his hands, the sound of footsteps on metal rang out. He looked up to see a figure running toward them, dark and wavy in the heat. He quickly stepped in front of Karlach.

“I’ll take care of this,” he said, then took a breath and lifted his arms. Just as he started his incantation, the figure waved its arms.

“Don’t! Don’t! Gale, it’s me!”

Gale’s arms dropped, and he nearly fell right off the scaffolding in relief as Falerin came to a halt on the other side of the gap.

“Did you find a way down?” Karlach asked, moving over to the edge.

“Yes, just a little farther down. There’s a lift—Astarion’s at the lever, so he can get us back down.”

“Aces.” Karlach grinned at Gale. “You feeling good enough to do feather fall on us?”

“Fully renewed and more than ready,” Gale said with a smile. “Still, be a little careful of your aim. I don’t want you falling slowly down below.”

“No worries there.” She waited for him to cast the spell, then started to back up to take a running leap. She paused beside him, giving him a smile.

“And thanks for being so ready to protect me,” she said, a little quieter. “Not many people think to do that for me.” She grinned. “All right, wizards first. One, two, three, go!”

After the most nerve-wracking jump of Gale’s life and the most dubious lift ride he’d ever been on (“Oh, damn, they survived,” Astarion had said with no small amount of disappointment once it came down with all three aboard. “I was hoping to get Gale’s pack.”), Falerin pulled him off to the side.

“It’s about time for you to have another item, isn’t it?” he whispered. “I have a few ready. You can…” He trailed off as Gale shook his head.

“All accounted for, but thank you.” He glanced over at Karlach, busy ribbing Astarion. “There’s a forge here, isn’t there? Let’s see if we can’t find something really nice for Karlach while we’re here.”

Fictober 2023 Drabble Master Post

#fictober23 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #gale of waterdeep #karlach #Someone gets a little hangry today #I have no idea if Gale's orb feelings are accurate because I haven't done my Gale playthrough yet

[em-writes-stuff-sometimes]

Even though I'm aware that Alicent knows that Babey's babies are true-born and all that, I still want her to try and check their hair out of habit, ya get me? Like, Alicent would know that the kid's are Daemon's but she would still feel the urge to check because it's a) habitual at this point and she's used to tormenting women who have recently given birth and b) she's aware that their Daemon's but she's still holding onto an irrational hope that they'll have brown hair due to their miniscule Arryn blood and she can claim bastardy, because at this point Babey has a male heir and Alicent's left grasping at straws.

Babey nesting and worrying if her kid's would like her preparations for them is soooooooooo cute but also comedy-gold; like, dude, they don't know WTF is going on, all they care about is your tit-milk (well, Daemon cares about that too, lets be honest).

Will Babey feed her kids herself or get a wet-nursee? (Haha, wet. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°))Babey is so sweet herself and I enjoyed the icky-vibes when Daemon mentioned he remembered how she looked as a new-born. Gosh darn, Aelys was a grumpy kid; my infant in fanfic, you've been born a princess, appreciate your privilege? Rich people, amirite? lol, jk,jk. Daemon is gonna be his daughter's slave I can already tell. 1000% obsessed. And Rhaenar is the quintessential mummy's-boy; nothing could convince me otherwise. Like Babey is going to dote on that kid. The first time he gets an injury in the training yard she will be HYSTERICAL and she'll kiss his boo-boo and everything.

Thanks for the new chapter!!!!

Aaaaaah, thank you so much! I’m so glad you liked!

For reasons, Alicent isn’t going to be seeing any of the babies Babey and Daemon have until we get to around Episode 8 timeline or equivalent (which I’ve ACTUALLY figured out is still about 9 years between Episodes 7 and 8, no idea where I got 5-6 years from; plenty of time for that brood to multiply hehe 😉). Mostly being that, without a GOOD few years for that burning rage to simmer down to a healthy resentment, Daemon would just kill her on sight, lol. But there will be no worries on the legitimacy front, haha - I imagine a collection of platinum-haired snotrags with Daemon’s nose or chin or sneer or penchant for saying “cunt!” just milling about, making it abundantly clear that there can only be one daddy in the mix, you know? Alicent will take one look at ‘em and be like “damn, they Daemon’s, alright!”

And yes, Babey being all nest-y was adorable, but the tit-milk is all that’s on those three’s mind right about now (I’m totally including Daemon in that, horny bastard). I’m thinking there might be a wet nurse hired to make sure the babies are getting enough milk, but Babey’s going to want to do the brunt of it, I believe! Aelys is opening THIS chapter as a grumpy-bum too, she has ‘tude and she does not give a fuck. Rhaenar is a sweet boi. And it is VERY tempting to go full-on Daddy’s Girl, Mummy’s Boy with them, but I am going to do my level best to balance it out as much as I can - they’re both their kids, you know? And I think there’s reasons for them to form a unique bond with each. But I’ll ABSOLUTELY be leaning into the Daemon-and-Aelys-Chaos-Twins-TM thing at intervals, because the idea of a toddler princess just wreaking havoc while the Rogue Prince strolls on by like “terribly sorry, we’re working on changing that behaviour with her lol” is TOO FUNNY to resist! Babey is going to be suuuuuper anxious as a mummy, lol - Daemon’s idea of teaching is drop ‘em in the water, they’ll either float or die.

Thank you so much for reading the latest chap!

#fanfiction comments

[quiet-compassion]

OFMD Fluffvember Day 10: Holiday

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51648301

As a general rule, Ed tries not to spend too much time pondering Stede’s old life. It’s not that he’s not curious. He’s extremely curious actually. It’s just that there are a lot of painful feelings and insecurities wrapped up for him in that Before. And he knows that Stede loves him. He knows there’s a reason Stede left all that behind. He knows that he and Mary weren’t happy together. But that doesn’t stop the thoughts that nag at him sounding like “He’s from my world, not yours” and “You left me for Mary”. He’s not proud of it; he’s working on it.

But, if he were going to ponder it, he’d imagine Stede’s old life was pretty boring for him. After all, Stede’s so full of whimsy and drama, he must have outshone everyone around him. Ed can see in his mind’s eye a placid and simpering wife, mild-mannered children, a straight-laced community that could never hope to keep up the explosion of chaos and creativity that is Stede. He almost feels bad for them, having to live the rest of their lives without Stede, but not bad enough to give him back.

They’re sitting together in their cabin, winding down after a long day. Ed’s head is in Stede’s lap, eyes closed as he listens to Stede recount his theories about the island’s local bird population.

“I’ve seen a few warblers, of course, and there was that Antillean bullfinch the other day. But I swear, Ed, the call I heard today sounded exactly like a yellow-shouldered blackbird! What it could be doing here, I can’t imagine, but I’m pretty confident that’s what I heard. We’ve definitely got to keep our eyes peeled for it. That’d be a sight, wouldn’t it?”

Comfortable and relaxed, Ed gives a languid hum of agreement. “For sure, mate.”

He waits for Stede to continue his avian oration but is met only with silence. Cracking one eye open, he finds Stede looking down at him wearing an expression of embarrassment and guilt.

“Sorry,” he says with an apologetic smile, “I’ve been rambling on and on. You don’t want to hear about this.”

“Pft, um yeah I do,” Ed insists. “I don’t know much about birds, beyond gulls, but sounds like this yellow-shouldered guy is pretty rare! It’d be annoying to miss out on seeing the little shit just because I didn’t know what it looked like.”

Stede’s eyebrows raise in surprise, searching Ed’s expression for any hint of insincerity.

“Really? I’m not…boring you?”

“Fuck off, of course not! Now come on, describe the bird so we can both be on the lookout.”

It takes another moment; Stede keeps staring at him in shock, though Ed can’t fathom why. Eventually though, with a timid smile, he goes on. 

“Well, it’s the wing you want to pay attention to…”

…

Ed puts the incident (but not the bird) out of his mind, until a few days later. They’ve been working on building some kind of structure capable of housing animals. A barn would be too generous a term for what they’ve managed. It’s a kind of pen, empty as of now, but the hope is to find a cow or chickens or something on the island to fill it. If they’re gonna be living here long term, they’ll need a more dependable food supply.

They’re securing the door to the pen (with a fully functioning latch, courtesy of Ed) dreaming about the types of recipes they might cook once they have regular access to a protein source other than fish.

“Could make meat pies,” Ed suggests. “I always loved those as a kid. And we can vary it to fit whatever we end up finding.”

“Love that idea! God, I’d kill for a simple roast chicken.” Stede frowns. “Or, I assume it’s simple. I’ve never made one before. Not much of a chef really.”

“That’s okay, babe. I’ll cook for us. I’ll make you a roast chicken—can’t be much harder than roasting a snake.”

Ed grabs their rusty axe, swinging it down to divide another bit of wood into pieces that can serve as fence posts. Stede tracks the movement, flinching a bit when the blade hits its mark. “I suppose we ought to build a butchering station out here too,” he says in a quiet voice.

“Sure,” Ed nods. “We can do that.”

Stede swallows, eyes still transfixed on the axe. “If you’re going to be making food for us, I guess I should handle preparing the meat for you.” He looks like might be sick.

Ed shrugs. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No no. It’s only fair. We’ll divvy up the work between us, and since you have a knack for cooking, I’ll have to handle this. Make myself useful.” 

The words come out of Stede’s mouth but they don’t sound like his. Ed drops what he’s doing to really look at him. 

“Stede,” he says slowly. “You do plenty around here. You’re hardly dead weight. I’m fine handling the butchering. Because, to be honest, mate, it seems like just the thought of it is making you queasy. So, don’t worry about it, I’ve got it.”

Stede is staring at him again, wearing that same look from the other night—wide-eyed like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. “You would do that for me?” he whispers.

Ed smiles. “Of course. I’d do a hell of a lot more than that for you. Listen, you protect me from spiders, I can kill a few chickens to put food on the table.”

Stede looks like he might cry, stepping forward to envelop Ed in a tight hug.

“Thank you.”

Ed puts his arms around him, feeling like there’s a puzzle before him he hasn’t solved yet.

…

It’s another month before it happens again. The whole place is coming along. There are no holes in the roof anymore for one thing. For another, they’ve got a respectable herd of goats and a moderate flock of chickens. They’ve patched up the floors, dug a well, set up fishing traps, planted a garden. It’s been a productive few weeks.

It’s also been a fuck ton of work. 

“We need a holiday,” Stede says rubbing Ed’s knee after a particularly grueling day.

Ed laughs. “Aren’t we where people are supposed to come for their holidays? You know, being an inn and all?”

“Eventually. But also that doesn’t prevent us from taking a break of our own,” Stede says.

His fingers dig into a particularly tense spot and Ed groans. “Ah, shit! Yeah, you’re right. Could do with a vacation.”

Stede smiles up at him. “The crew said they’d check back in on us after 3 months. Only a few weeks left till then. Perhaps we can ask them to drop us somewhere for a week or two and bring us back again after.”

Ed’s sure the crew will be less than enthusiastic about being their ferry service but, for now, he keeps the thought to himself.

“Sounds nice. Alright then, where should we go? What kind of a holiday would you like?”

Seeming surprised by the question, Stede gives a dismissive shrug. “Oh, I’m not picky.”

“Well, that’s a lie,” Ed quips with a snort.

Stede gives his thigh a playful smack. “What would you like to do?” he asks.

Ed pauses, giving Stede a quizzical look. “I asked you first.”

“I’m sure you’d find my idea of a vacation incredibly tedious. And really, I’m happy to go along for the ride, so long as we’re together. So, you pick.”

He gives Ed a polite smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes and Ed decides that’s it. That’s the final straw. Pushing himself upright from his reclined position on their bed, he levels Stede with a bemused gaze.

“Okay, what’s the deal, man?”

Stede looks confusedly up at him, hands still massaging Ed’s knee.

“Huh? What’s what deal?”

“Why do you keep assuming I don’t care about what you care about? First it was the birds, and then the slaughtering chickens thing, now this. You keep acting like you expect me to be annoyed. So, what’s the deal? Why is the me in your head such a dick to you?”

He’s rendered Stede speechless, which is kinda a feat. He just sits there, open-mouthed, staring at Ed for a moment. Finally, crimson-faced, he clears his throat and says, not meeting Ed’s eye, “I’m sorry. I—I don’t think you’re a dick. It’s just. No one has ever cared about what I care about before. I would talk about something I found fascinating and everyone’s eyes would glaze over, or they’d find a way to escape my company.”

Ed doesn’t understand. “But why? That’s pretty rude! Maybe if they actually listened they’d see why you found the thing so fascinating!”

Grimacing, Stede doesn’t say anything in response. Another detail of his confession makes its way to the forefront of Ed’s mind.

“It can’t have been that way with everyone, right? I mean, your family? Mary—”

“Ha! Mary. Bless her,” Stede chuckles joylessly, “she had no patience for my special interests. I’d imagine not having to listen to me ramble on was one of the things she enjoyed most about me being gone! The kids too, I’m afraid.”

Ed sees the mental picture he tries so hard not to imagine shift before his eyes. The insipid fawning family alters into a cold and austere household. A past life that is not so much boring as it is lonely. The very idea makes his blood boil, but he wrestles to tamp down his indignation. The last thing this moment needs is for Stede to perceive Ed as angry.

Taking a deep breath, Stede continues on. “To tell the truth, I’ve always felt like I was getting things wrong. I talk too much, or about the wrong things. The things I ought to have the stomach for make me squeamish. My idea of fun, of adventure, doesn’t seem to be anyone else’s.” 

He turns at last to meet Ed’s eyes. “I know you love me. And I know that we have a lot in common, that we are frequently on the same page even when that page is completely wild. It’s one of the things that made you such a breath of fresh air when we met. But…after spending so long being an annoyance to everyone I met, sometimes it’s hard not to assume I’m irritating you too.”

Ed takes a deep breath, running a hand over his beard as he thinks through what he wants to say. “When you sail as long as I have, everything starts to feel very grey. The whole world kinda loses color, all just hazy sky and murky water. Gets to be that nothing can surprise you, not the crew, or the routine of the day, or even the fucking weather. And then here you come,”

he smiles, raising a hand to hold Stede’s face.

“Here you come and suddenly there’s color again. Like literally, because you dressed like a goddamn rainbow, but also there were surprises again. Every day was different. Things that seemed set in stone were now fluid and malleable. Even now, here, in the rhythms we’ve created for ourselves, babe, I am never bored.”

He wipes a tear off of Stede’s cheek with his thumb. Stede turns his face just enough to kiss Ed’s palm.

“You drive me crazy, in multiple senses,” Ed laughs. “But you’re not an irritant, not an annoyance, or ordeal to be endured. I wanna hear all your silly thoughts and ideas. I wanna know what you like so I can give you more of it and I wanna know what you dislike so I can keep it the hell away.”

He could go on. God knows that when he gets to talking, he can carry on for hours. But then Stede’s kissing him and it seems like perhaps he’s said enough. Well, almost…

“I also wanna know,” he breathes, lips scant inches from Stede’s, “what kind of holiday you would like to go on so we can plan the fun and relaxing trip we both need.”

Stede laughs. “Oh, alright! I was thinking, it might be nice to go somewhere with a variety of shopping opportunities. We could pick out some creature comforts we’ve been craving, maybe get a jumpstart on inn decorations. Perhaps we could even track down a bookstore!”

“A retail vacation, love that,” Ed says.

“We could even use it as a marketing opportunity for this place! You know, get word of mouth going.” 

Fuck, Ed loves him. They who came before might not have appreciated Stede for the insane wonder that he is, but he always will. As Stede goes on with talk of informational brochures, eyes alight, one thought echos in Ed’s mind: their fucking loss. 

#ofmd #ofmd fluffvember #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #stuff i write

[steddiejudas]

Loop 17

tags: angst, referenced drug use, violence

Continuation of this post:

“You know this isn’t the first time we’ve hung out?”

“No?” Chrissy always asks, a little hopeful that Eddie will tell her he knows her. He’s known her for 16 loops, and this one, number 17 is going to be different.

“You don’t remember?” Exactly what he said the first time, exactly what he says every time that breaks her heart a little more in each loop. Chrissy has never been that lucky, so she doesn’t know why it would start now, when she and this doofus she’s growing to love keep dying.

It’s all trial and error at this point. She knows if she buys Eddie’s weed and leaves, Vecna will get her later this evening and that will be the end of the loop. If she stays here and smokes with Eddie, there’s a chance they’ll sit here and talk all night. She’ll still die, but at least Eddie won’t be the prime suspect in her murder, although she’s not sure it really matters — what happens to the world when the loop resets is unknown to her. Maybe there are 16 alternate timelines, or maybe they cease to exist. It hurts her brain, sends her spiraling to consider the possibilities.

This loop she decides to go for the ket again. So far it’s the only way she’s managed to stay alive. The loops tend to blend together so it’s hazy, but she thinks after the first one Eddie plays music when they get back to his trailer. She doesn’t know why, but the heavy drumbeat in Eddie’s music of choice is grounding. She kind of likes it.

Her survival doesn’t stop the killings, and no matter what, Jason is always small minded and obsessed with hunting Eddie down, convinced he’s inducted Chrissy into his ‘cult’. There have been a couple loops where seeing them together drives Jason to kill Eddie. With each loop, she loves him a little less, hates him a little more.

So when Chrissy sees Jason at the gun counter of the Warzone, threatening Nancy Wheeler, she snaps. She marches up to him with purpose, placing her tiny hand on the barrel of the shotgun, between where the two of them play keepaway, and tugs. Chrissy is a cheerleader, a flier, she’s much stronger than she looks, despite her petite frame. The gun falls from both of their hands into hers.

“Jason. Outside. Now.” She grits through bared teeth. She relishes in the way he ducks his head and cowers slightly, taking the opportunity to grab him by the scruff of the neck and lead him out of the emergency exit to the back alley. Without a second thought, she’s aiming the gun at him.

Jason throws his arms up in surrender. “Woah, Chris — Chrissy, hold on. I’m sorry, please, just put the gun down.”

“You’re sorry? That’s the best you can come up with? You’ve taken everything from me over and over again and all you have to say is ‘I’m sorry’?”

“W-what are you talking about? I didn’t- I haven’t done anything.”

“You haven’t? Then what do you call the mob we’ve had to hide Eddie from loop after loop? What do you call the times that you’ve KILLED HIM right in front of me? What do you call that in there with Nancy? Just letting off some steam? Boys being boys? Well let me tell you something Carver: I’m getting really sick and tired of you and your boys.” She pumps the shotgun for emphasis. Jason takes a step back, his strategy of redirection completely failing him as he stares down the barrel, meeting Chrissy’s piercing blue eyes through the iron sights.

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Jason shouts.

“You never do.” Chrissy says, her tone almost bored as she pulls the trigger, firing a round of buckshot into his chest.

It should be terrifying, traumatizing. Chrissy should scream and feel regret for what she’s just done, but the sight of his blood leaking from his chest into a pool on the asphalt makes her think of the first time she saw Eddie the same way. She feels nothing.

Until the door swings open and Nancy is standing there. Her face is calm like she’s seen worse on any given Tuesday. She reaches for the gun and calmly says: “Everyone heard that shot. We gotta go.”

Chrissy nods, letting Nancy ease her grip on the barrel of the shotgun and take her hand, sprinting back to the RV. The rest of the Party is already there, and Steve steps on the gas as soon as the door is shut. They lurch with the force of the acceleration and Chrissy falls into Nancy’s arms. She realizes she’s panting, the adrenaline finally catching up to her and maybe it’s making her a little crazy because she thinks Nancy is beautiful like this. Calm and powerful, tightly gripping Chrissy’s waist to hold her steady.

Chrissy can’t help herself, leaning her head up to catch Nancy’s lips in a searing kiss. Nancy holds on tighter, kisses back stronger and they melt into each other. When they pull away Chrissy is for once thankful for the prospect of the time loop as 6 pairs of eyes, wide as dinner plates stare at the two of them. Thank god they won’t remember this.

#tiny badass chrissy my beloved #she is fED UP #stranger things #wheelingham #chrissy cunningham #nancy wheeler