#just needed to yell into the void. get out some of the stress

[verdemoth]

mm goin through the horrors. the horrors are bad i can’t recommend the horrors.

#my city is about to burn !! hard to say how bad it will be. but at this point damage looks likely #the fire is very unpredictable and growing and strong winds will push it this way tomorrow #my home will probably be safe. im beside the lake. it’d have to chew through the whole city to reach me #but i’m still scared for family who live closer and all the thousands of people under evacuation orders already #half the city is on evacuation alert. state of emergency declared #my province is on fire #it gets worse every year #this summer was a series of severe alerts. fiercer thunderstorms. hotter heat waves. smoke from dozens of fires #i’m not a pessimist. but at times like this. man. its hard to see a future that gets better #☹️ #i’m so. angry that it’s gotten this bad. i feel very violent abt the people who let this happen. the ones who had a say in it . #ive also been feeling extra shit physically lately and this smoke is not helping the return of my chronic cough #half of my organs are fucked up at any given time and years of seeking answers has yet to provide anything substantial #its bad. it’ll probably end up ok and many people are having it worse but fuck it’s all bad rn. #theres nothing to do about it right now. and i’ll have to try and get some sleep. too many insomnia nights recently. #just needed to yell into the void. get out some of the stress #ghhhhhhhgggghhhhh ok. gonna go find distractions until this body gets tired enough

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Hi Hal!

Congratulations on finishing all the requests (there were so many good ones!!) and thank you for opening them up again!! I’m excited to see what you have in store for us with all your other projects, bestie!!! 😊😊

I was unsure of who to request at first because there are so many good ones but then I saw Hesh’s name and an idea hit me.

If you’re ok with it, could you possibly write one for Hesh where the reader is part of the Ghosts has been taken/captured by the Federation and after some time, they get intel on where she is so they go out to rescue her and she and Hesh are reunited? I don’t know if you want it to be a pre-established relationship or one where they both admit their feelings after they get her back, so I’m leaving it up to you. But I need a little rescue/reunion fic to fill the void in my heart that the ending of Ghosts made.

As always, feel free to change it up as you see fit and do whatever you want. I just think that Hesh deserves more love and I wouldn’t be opposed to seeing Riley again (aka: the best dog in the world)!!

Thank you and remember to take care of yourself and I appreciate you and your work!! 💕💕 Love you, bestie!!!!

Lengths Of Love

PAIRING: David 'Hesh' Walker x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: You'd loved Hesh for as long as you can remember, and you'd pulled him out of trouble for even longer, but you'd never had the courage to tell him how you feel. Until you do. Until you're being dragged away from his broken body.

WORDCOUNT: 10.7k

WARNINGS: Major spoilers for CoD: Ghosts, heavy angst, blood, guts, descriptions of wounds, canon-typical violence, weapons and firearms, death, torture involving: drugs/hallucinogens, physical violence, mental stress, talks of PTSD, anxiety, paranoia, rescue fic, best friends to lovers plot, wounds that would 100% kill you that you live from (plot armor fr), etc.

A/N: Bestie, I don't know what you put into your prompts, lmao, but I always end up writing so much for you!! Thanks so much for sending something in <3<3

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

The beginning of the end started with good intentions and one statement. 

“You hear this? It’s Rorke. He’s here. They’re evacuating on the train system below.” Hesh’s green eyes darted to you and Logan, his painted face a collection of rage and surety. The three of you were, in an instant, in agreement of revenge—there was no question as to what had to be done. Merrick couldn’t stop you, not on this. 

Rorke had made one of the most dangerous decisions of his life, and that was underestimating the Walker boys and their partner in sinful crime. 

“Harp,” you look away from the body of the warhead as it enters the atmosphere, locking onto Hesh’s hard eyes; the ones that had grown steadily colder since the death of his father, Elias. But it wasn’t just him—the patriarch had been close to you as well. The knowledge of his passing, witnessing it as the rope restraints seared into your flesh, had lit an all-consuming fire in your gut.

Like hounds, the scent of blood had hit the air. 

“Let’s get the bastard. Now or never,” you ease out, and Logan darts his gaze down to you from behind his balaclava. 

“Damn right,” Hesh barks, nodding firmly to you.

Anyone would have missed the way your gaze lingered on him as he darted off and began rushing down the stairs from the control room, Logan ever quick at his heels. But they wouldn’t have missed the way your breath pushed out a soft sigh as your eyes kept locked on the back of Hesh’s head as you followed after. 

You’d been childhood friends since practically infancy, a neighbor to the Walkers. It was natural that Hesh would grow to be the object of your daydreams ever since grade school; a constant and digging knife into your heart when he’d repeatedly pick other girls over you.

But such was life. 

All that mattered now was bringing down Rorke, silly love could wait.

“Merrick,” Hesh yelled down his line, the world outside this building rampant with open war. “The missile’s away and we’ve got a lead on Rorke, we’re going after him!” 

The white double doors meet the three of you as you all rush to them, and the panicked man’s voice flashes down the line immediately. 

“Negative Hesh! You three get back here and return to the rally point. We’ll track him down together.”

You call, “Isn’t an option, Merrick. We can’t let this one go.” 

You and Hesh ram your shoulders into the doors, Logan darting through first with his weapon drawn down the hallway. The brunette’s and your shoulders brush in a jostling of gear—pulling the back as your eyes lock. Cold light seeps from overhead, metal under your feet clanking in-key.

You look away before Hesh agrees and levels with the Ghost over the line to push your point. “Sorry, Merrick. Your mission is complete…ours isn’t.”

Federation heads pop up from behind makeshift barriers of barrels and other stacked items and as you all enter and clear rooms, alarms blare with the ferocity of fighting lions. Hesh keeps by your side, offering you openings that you greedily take as another soldier falls with a stiff twitch of your finger on the trigger. 

Darting behind cover, the man slams to the space beside you, calling over above the noise and the whizz of bullets.

“How long till impact?!” You shove a new clip into your FAD, brushing sweat and blood from your cheeks, smearing patches of your own paint. 

Glancing at the watch on your wrist, you hear Logan pushing the line. You dart out of cover to help—locking onto hostiles and backing up the younger brother with quick feet.

“Eight minutes, Hesh! You got a plan that doesn’t leave me with scorched hair?” He finds it in himself to laugh, clocking a soldier to your left and riddling him with bullets. 

“We need to get to that train, Harp. Don’t worry—I’ll kiss the burns away for you.” He rushes past and sends a smirk over his shoulder. You’re left stunned for a second, wishing that the teasing tilt to the older brother’s words was more than that. You blink, and the feeling is forced away.

Later.

“Keep pushing, Logan,” Hesh moves on. You all sprint down descending ramps, farther and farther underground with every step; adrenaline building to a breakneck level like weight slowly being added over and over to a chest. “We need to get to Rorke!” 

You didn’t want to tell him, but, while revenge was on your plate as well, this was a very reckless idea.

As you grab for a grenade from your belt and jerk on the pin, you chuck it down the way and call out a warning to the boys, who, like a well-oiled machine, dart and wait for it to detonate. Bodies fly, bloody splashes of torn limbs, and three Ghosts materialize from the smoke with masked and painted faces; eyes like fire and veins boiling. 

“Fire team suppressed in 3-1,” Hesh shouts through the line as you slide your knife into a man’s eye, his goggles breaking in a shattering of glass. “Advancing to loading bay!” 

There’s a large elevator ahead for transporting crates, and all of you jog inside as the gate creaks shut.

Merrick’s stiff voice replies, “Roger that.”

Silently, you click into the channel and mutter out as a moment of relative peace coats your body like a blanket, even if for a few small seconds. 

“I’ll keep ‘em safe,” a small twitch of your lips, “Commander.”

A deep and unimpressed voice wafts into your ear with a large sigh. “Know you will—just remember to keep yourself safe in the process, Kid…Don’t do anything stupid.”

You shift your gaze to Hash and find green already staring at you. Blinking, the man quickly darts his vision away and after a moment you turn your face back down to the connection and huff through a burning epidermis.

“Haven't you heard?” The elevator shows the train as it descends down, and you call to the boys, ‘six minutes’, with a firm voice. 

“Stupid seems to follow us three everywhere.”

Hesh points as the figures of more soldiers walk around below. “There’s Rorke’s train, straight ahead!” Sure enough, the worm of black and gray metal extends to your eyes across the large room

“He’ll be on there soon. Logan, take left.” You order and the brown-eyed man nods from beside you, shouldering his rifle and checking the clip. “Hesh?” 

“Taking right—you got Point, Doll.” He stares at you, licking his lips. “Clear the way?” You tilt your head at him as the elevator jumps to a stop, the barrier sliding away. It pains you to look away.

There were so many things you had to tell him. Too many things. 

“Always.” Shiting your face forward, you take a breath and take notice of points of cover, scoping the room in three seconds flat. Screeching wheels and alarms ingrain your eardrums. “On me.” 

As you head out first, fire the first bullet, the two peel off in opposite directions, Hesh only sliding up beside you and uttering into your ear.

“Be safe.” 

That comment makes you want to be anything but, if only he’d whisper into your ear like that again. 

Clearing the room, you can’t get your mind off the fact that this crush was overtaking nearly every part of your life—years of quiet agony and staying your tongue in fear of losing what great friendship you had. 

The stock set into your shoulder recoils with another burst of fire, Federation soldiers scream in pain, but you barely register over the shadows in the sides of your vision. 

“Damnit, Hesh,” you growl, bullet grazing your shoulder as you grunt and slip behind a concrete divider. 

“What’s that?” Your eyes widen comedically. Shit…had you forgotten to close the line? 

“Eh,” you clear your throat, grimacing at the small sparks of pain in your shoulder. “N-nothing.” 

There’s a bout of silence and then a panting voice, rough and growing more serious. “You alright over there, Harp?” You can’t even respond before Hesh quickly continues. “I’m comin’ to you. Stay there.”

You violently shake your head, although he can’t see it.

“Hesh, I’m fine! Keep right and clear that hallway.” 

There’s a deep grunt. “Fine, but if I see one scratch I’m makin’ Riley chase you down the Base when we get back.”

If we get back.

You roll your eyes with a growing smile, steeling yourself and slamming your weapon to the top of the divider before locking onto your targets. “Please, we both know he loves me too much for that.”

“Most I’ll have to do is put a treat in your pocket, Sweetheart.” His sly smirk is heard easily, and you swallow tense-like and breathe shakily. That low drawl in his tone left you more distracted than you could ever get used to. “Hell,” There’s a struggle over the line before the shink of a knife meeting flesh. A breathless chuckle that leaves your gut swirling. “Maybe I’ll just chase you down myself.”

Logan coughs over the line and you have to click off before you scream. Your face flares up until your ears ring and you have to duck behind your cover again before you get metal right to the forehead. 

Behind the barrier, you glare at the floor.

When did general teasing get so hard for you? Jokes and jabs carrying weight—since when? Sure you’d liked—more liked loved—Hesh since before all of this, but you’d carried on well enough. 

“Fucking hell,” you grumble, shaking your head to clear it and rushing. 

The brothers pop through the side hallways to flank the enemy, taking out the one or two hostiles that were still breathing after you level your barrel with the last standing head; firing with a burst of gunpowder.

“Train’s leaving, let's go!” Hesh screams, waving an arm quickly at you, walking backwards on quick feet. “Harp, C’mon!” 

You chuff, hopping the divider and sprinting as the metal object speeds up—there’s a moment where you fear you might miss it, Hesh and Logan both forced to hop on even in your absence.

“Harp!” Green eyes flash, one hand on the railing and the other extended out. 

“On it!” Snapping, you slam your palm into his and feel his strong fingers curl to clutch you. Logan grabs your collar and helps; the both of them easily yanking you over just as the wall of the tunnel engulfs you all in illuminated shadow.

Back meeting the train’s body, you pant and chuckle as Logan shakes his head, amused, and pats your shoulder. You wink at him jokingly. 

“Good save there, Walker Number Two.”

Hesh grabs the side of your neck, looking you over as he leans back with a breathless chuckle at the title for his brother. He blinks quickly at your shoulder, eye narrowing before he reaches out and looks at the blood on your gear.

“You mind telling me what this is, Doll?” You make a nose in the back of your throat as the smell of his musk hits your nostrils; the deadly concoction of his scent and his digging gaze.

Stuttering, you huff. “Eh…bullet graze?”

You’re leveled with thin lips, but Logan grabs his brother by the upper arm and peels him off you, motioning to his radio as the train gains even more speed. Wind whips past your face as Hesh clears his throat, quickly avoiding your eyes. 

The man’s splotchy paint shows his red skin under the darker pigment. 

“Merrick, we’re on the train,” he speaks, shifting past you without another look. “We’re going after Rorke.”

“Solid Copy.” You watch the brunette walk away and hold your breath, though you don’t know why—heart beating not just because of adrenaline. 

Embarrassment breeding in your stomach, you ignore Logan’s knowing stare and push off the wall, rubbing at your bleeding shoulder with a stiff hand. 

—

You break a man’s neck against the wall, hand on the back of his head before you slam it into the hard metal. There’s a crunch of bone and a broken rattle before the broadcasted feed from the screen on the train’s panel spits out a message in panicked Spanish to the already deceased men.

“Evacuation protocol C is in effect. All personnel secure cargo and supplies—”

Hesh interrupts ahead of you as you let the body drop, scowling at the heavy sound of its dead weight. At his angry voice, you perk and tune in.

“Tell Rorke we’re comin’ for him.” There’s a quick shove from the other end of the feed, the previous man disappearing as the individual that takes his place makes your eyes go to slits. A great growl like a wolf echoes from your heart and seeps from between your clenched teeth. 

Rorke’s scarred face appears with a smirk and a cocky voice.

“Why don’t you just tell me yourself?” You look at your boys, more concerned for them as you watch firsthand the trauma the death of their father brought them. 

Logan holds his weapon tighter, fixing his grip. Hesh is a bit more direct. He leans closer to the screen, bearing his teeth like a dog and snarling with rage and hatred.

“You’re done, Rorke.” All of a sudden he peels back a fast fist and sends it careening into the screen—making a shattering of glass and a hard thud emanate deep into your bones. 

Blinking quickly, you tense as it happens, not expecting that. But as soon as you try to make sense of it, the brunette is already banking off to the side door, calling a sharp, “Let’s finish this!”

He grabs the side of the train car and wrenches on the handle, grunting and pushing with all of his might.

“Hesh,” you try to reason, stepping in now before things get too hot. “We need to think of a plan before you rush into things. This could get us in a heap of shit that we might not be able to get out of.”

It’s like he doesn’t hear you, and you spare a glance with Logan for help. But he, too, has already joined his brother with a swish of gear on the handle. With one great push, the door opens to the outside brightness, making your face turn away for a moment. 

Along the far expanse of open sand dunes outside; mountains flanking the bridge this train flies across, you get the perfect view of a warhead meeting the ground in an explosion of fire and death. It bursts far across the valley, and you cover your eyes as the sharp ball of light burns your retinas. 

The shockwave hits moments later, and Hesh says easily as the train shakes and squeals like a metal pig, “Looks like Icarus got control of the rods!” The boys step out onto the platform along the train, and you have no option but to follow. “All that’s left is Rorke, let's go!”

“Hesh,” you try again, hissing out his name, and you’re graced with a quick glance.

“Harp,” he comments, “what is it? We can’t wait any longer—”

“What we can’t do is go in blind!” You shout above the wind, legs stanced to help you stay up. Green eyes twitch with confusion, perhaps even a little hurt. 

“Blind? What are you talking about, we push forward and take what’s owed.” You know how much this means to him—to Logan—but there was a point where pride and stubbornness outweighed sense. This was dangerous, especially for Hesh. 

You were always the one to keep him level; keep him from becoming too much like his dad. 

You’d promised that old bastard you’d look after his boys, albeit in a teasing sense, but to you, it had been a stark vow on your soul. Logan was a brother to you, and Hesh…Hesh would always be more, but that only made your love for them both grow. 

“You keep those two from getting in their heads, you hear? They mean well, but there’s no one I trust more than you to level them out, Harp. I’m proud of you. And I’m sure your folks would be too.” Elias had said that, and when he died you bottled it up and used so much force that coal had turned to diamond. 

You would keep Logan and Hesh safe. Safe, and level, and not hard-headed. 

For as much as you secretly loved your brunette, he sure was stubborn as all hell.

“If you want out, Harp,” Hesh calls to you, gritting his teeth. “Just wait back in the train car. This is something we can’t put off like everything else—this ends now; today. I’m not letting Dad’s killer survive.”

“Son of a bitch, that’s not what I’m saying!” You’re quickly losing your standing. Logan jogs ahead to scout, time ticking. “Hesh, you know that I loved Elias as much as you two did—not one is denying that this needs to happen. I'm with you. But this is too damn dangerous! We can’t rush into this without a plan of attack; of exfil! Do you even know how we’re going to get off of this thing?!” 

Hesh had been isolating the few days he had on the U.S.S Liberator, keeping to his room. The man idolized his father and put him on a pedestal of gold even when he was a teenager. He’d even pushed away from you, which all together was unheard of. Logan had nearly had an aneurism when you’d come back to the cafeteria and shook your head in disappointment after trying to get him to open his door. 

The two of you told each other everything. Always. That was just…how it was.

But the man that Hesh had donned the skin of was not the man you loved.

Hesh glares at you, eyes going alight with anger. 

“If you were with me, you wouldn’t be holding me back.” He turns and runs after Logan, leaving you behind in the open air as the train banks left and right with the sway of the bridge. 

Staring. Barely breathing. Mouth parted and eyes wide. 

When the man is at the end of the current train car, having to jump a small distance to the next, he pauses. His back is tight, and under him, his feet shuffle. 

There’s a moment you hope he’ll turn around and come back, take you into one of his hugs, and squeeze the life out of you. It wouldn’t be such a cruel way to die, you think, to be held in his arms. 

But the next moment you see the back of his head shake, and he jumps over to the next section, not even giving you a second glance.

You don’t want to admit how long you waited there, your mind jumbled and confused. 

Don’t take it personally, you try to tell yourself, sucking down a breath before slowly walking forward. He’s hurt. Grieving. He didn’t mean it.

Rationality was a tool of the level-headed, and you were anything but that nowadays.

Over the line Hesh’s voice makes you flinch as you slowly follow after, train car after train car.

“Rorke must be at the front of the train!” You step over dead bodies and lend merciful bullets to the ones still writhing, boots coated in crimson. Following a trail of wreckage with stiff lungs. 

Stay out of his way? Fine, you could do that.

You stayed back from the head-to-head fighting, laying covering fire and keeping off the comms—whenever Hesh managed to look back at you, you simply moved on to the next hostile. 

Eventually, you all ended up on the rooftops, the boys far ahead and yourself blank-faced at the rear. Logan was acting more concerned than Hesh was, glancing at you constantly in confused worry. But it was very much short-lived.

“Incoming!” The right side of the railcar bursts with fire, and you gasp before grappling for the opposite side of the train, keeping you there before the swaying beast leveled out. “Helos. Take cover and take out the gunners!”

You scoff, quickly making your way behind a connector joint to lean your back against it and catch your breath. Two helicopters fly alongside the train, Logan already firing at one, and Hesh…your eyes narrow with annoyance. Hesh was already running ahead of the pack, his low grunts and growls over the line giving way to his impatience. 

You click your jaw and try to remind yourself that this is the same man who held you close during movie nights and carried you to bed when you fell asleep. Made you waffles when your boyfriend in eighth grade broke up with you on Valentine’s Day.

Stitched your wounds before he gave them a teasing ‘kiss better’ and looked up at you through dark lashes. 

You wildly shake your head to force yourself back to the present.

The gunners are harder to hit not only based on wind and distance alone, but on the erratic movements of the pilots. It’s several clips before you down the second Helo, and Logan’s follows immediately after as they both collide and ram into the mountainside.

You both share a glance and rush after the misguided brunette. 

At the end of the train, only the engine remains. 

“Clear!” Hesh relays, jumping down from the roof of the railcar and hurriedly walking to the white door, leaning against the wall. “We’re at the last car, Logan. Rorke’s pinned, he knows we’re comin’.”

You gaze down from the top as Logan follows, silent and brooding. Your hands along your FAD tighten under your gloves. You don’t even look at the man. 

“Merrick, do you copy?”

“Copy, Hesh.”

“We’re moving in on Rorke.” You slide him a look, seeing him glaring those pretty greens into the ground. “If you hear the word “Checkmate”, you will fire on our position! Confirm?” Your eyes snap with horror, heart lurching.

Surely, you hadn’t heard that right.

Merrick’s voice echoes your frozen confusion. “Say again, repeat your last.”

You jump down and stagger for a moment, barking out a harsh, “What the fuck are you doing?” Inside of your chest, your heart rampages like it never had before. “That’s suicide!”

He was going to kill everyone to bring down Rorke, and you get no answer beyond a clenched jaw and a quick side-eye.

“You heard me, Merrick, on “Checkmate”, hit this train!” The connection is cut and Logan gets into position to shoulder the door open, you watch, stuttering. 

Hesh levels with his brother, “We can’t take any chances, Logan. Even if we fail, Rorke dies.” Panic builds, and you’re taking quick steps forward.

You keep those two from getting in their heads, you hear?

You have to stop them, you have to drag them away—but even you know that deep down the only thing that will stop these two is a bullet. 

Eyes snapping back and forth, you only get close enough to try and snatch at Hesh’s arm right as he finishes a countdown of three; at the end, Logan kicks down the engine room door with a violent connection of his boot.

Even with the drop on the three guards inside, it doesn't stop the bullet from ripping through your lower side, preoccupied and distracted yet again. You yell loudly, balking back into the door frame and hunching over as blood spurts out of you. Hesh’s head whips your way immediately, jaw going slack and a soul-deep hysteria takes over.

So now he pays attention.

“Shit, Harp!” So little time. 

Logan can’t take care of the last remaining Fed soldier by himself, and in a large act of self-sabotage, that very soldier just happened to have a missile launcher. 

The entire left engine explodes—the train jerks; everyone is sent in a back-and-forth motion, first hitting off the last train car before being sent right back through the engine room entirely. A transference of force gives you whiplash as your head bounces off the door frame. 

The world goes blurry, body hitting and slamming through layers of glass and pain before the control room is suddenly where you end up, using the body of a stunned guard as a cushion. 

There’s a second of muffled gunfire, struggling and yelling—and then it all comes back into focus like a sniper’s scope being correctly sighted. You gargle an expletive and shove the guard under you back down despite the searing heat in your side and head; struggling to unsheathe your combat knife as the world tilts. 

Hands push at your cheeks, grip at your neck futilely, but when you get the blade out and struggle the hands down once more, you hammer the point into his throat with a thump of your boot pressing for purchase on the floor. 

The man spasming, you push off of him and slam to the ground, coughing in great lung-shattering segments.

“You can’t win, Rorke!” Hesh’s voice brings you back from the swirling, and you hear your blood patter to the metal floor like rain.

“Shit,” you mutter, gasping for air. 

Gazing up you see Rorke holding Logan in a chokehold, free hand pointing a gun at Hesh. Your eyes bulged, trying to push onto your knees and reach for your weapon as you saw Hesh continually looking away from the target and worriedly watching you. His hands at his sides are loose, but when you lock eyes with him, they clench and shake. 

“It’s over—” He tries, but the loud gunshot bounces off the train’s enclosed space. You’re yelling before you can think, darting forward and leveling your gun right to Rorke’s head as Hesh’s form collapses to the ground.

Standing on unsteady feet, you pant and stumble, but the devil’s brown eyes hold you captive. Rorke smirks as you guard Hesh behind you. 

“Well, well, well, seems the girl’s just as promising as you, eh, Logan? She’s the other one who slipped her binds in Las Vegas.” He laughs. “Look at me, I’m surrounded by young talent.” 

“I don’t exactly care if you are or aren’t,” you growl, shuffling to keep Hesh even farther behind you as you instrumentally cough again. Your legs are wobbling. “Just that you put my fucking friend down.”

“You willing to die for him?” Rorke looks demented, with his scar and his intimidating build. Whatever torture he had been through to make him like this—a Ghost killer—it had worked perfectly. There was no coming back from this. He whistles lowly. “That’s some loyalty you have there.”

His mind was dead to all else.

You don’t hesitate in an answer, even as the man behind you grabs your leg, trying to move you with a wheezing breath.

“H-Harp,” his spine moves in a cough. “Don’t…please.”

“Always.” Interest alights in those dark, tiny eyes. Logan tries to give you messages with his gaze, but you ignore him. Ironic. “That’s not something I’ll break on. Unlike you.”

“Shit, Kid,” there’s a grand laugh, “now that’s heartless…but good,” Rorke glances at Hesh, raising a brow and chuckling. “I’ll love to see the look in his eyes when I—”

“Checkmate!”

“Checkmate confirmed.” You look down at Hesh and see him watching you, his gaze open and bare. 

“I’m sorry,” he gasps, but all you can do is watch. 

There’s no time to think.

“I love you,” you confess in a fleeting moment of bare nothingness, blurting it out. “I’ve loved you.”

Hesh’s body entirely halts, jaw slowly slackening in horror; something shifts behind his eyes but before he can open his mouth, a rageful bark bullies the smooth tone of his throat back.

“What did you do?!” Your form is bodied into the controls behind you, colliding as you snarl and are forced to recover. With a snap of your finger, you fire a shot into Rorke’s foot. 

He yells and whips his wrist back, slamming the butt of his gun into your temple. 

As the bridge ahead of the train explodes, Hesh drags himself to cover your body, muttering into your flesh words you cannot name as the darkness sets in.

“It’s over,” Hesh speaks grimly to Rorke, turning to look at him silently as he presses your head into his chest, sharing a nod and thin-lipped look with Logan still stuck in his arm. “It’s over.”

“Shit, Son…” The train gets thrown and broken in a wave of utter destruction and rebirth; and through it all, Hesh never lets go—not even when the water below comes up to meet you.

—

The beach’s sand is coarse, and it sticks to your gear with a fervent hold. To your skin, the paint, and blood, for the moment washed away as hands dragged you from the water, small puffs of breath and whimpers greeting you. 

“C’mon, Sweetheart.” Hesh. And he sounded frantic. “C’mon, open…open your eyes, dammit. Please, you just told me the best thing you possibly could. Please.” 

Water slips off your neck, and as you’re weakly lying back, propped against a rock, hands slip to your cheeks, moving the skin as a barely conscious body tries to make you wake up. 

A forehead hits against your shoulder, a deep groan of pain emanating from the man who grips at your gear.

“No, no, c’mon,” Hesh can barely keep himself sitting up, bloody and broken. Logan had to drag him from the water not seconds prior, and in turn, Hesh had grabbed what little strength was left and helped him get you. “Logan!” Green darts to brown, and the older brother pleads in a broken voice, “Help me!”

You bend your head forward and cough up blood and water, shoving Hesh away from you so you can collapse on your side and expel your stomach.

“Harp,” the man quickly mutters, dragging himself over and grabbing your shoulder to keep your face out of the sand. “Fuck, okay—it’s okay I’ve got you.”

“You,” your voice cuts out, and you shake as you gasp and sputter, “A-are a fucking idiot!” 

Hesh chuckles, and you feel his head hit off your arm, his struggling breath. “God, I know. I know, Sweetheart.” 

Logan crawls over to you, pushing you back against the rock and grappling for his medical pouch as Hesh patches into the comms. You grunt and look down at the younger brother, head swirling in colors and ears pounding with your pulse. 

“Merrick, do you copy? Merrick, come in.”

“Hesh! Hesh, is that you?” You weakly smirk at the shock and relief from the tone, letting your head tilt back as Logan hurriedly packs your gunshot wound with gauze. You wince and stare at the sky—blood infectiously tinging the sand below you. 

Hesh tries to help too, but you and the man are in far worse shape than Logan. The older brother’s shoulder leans into yours heavily, and you shift your eyes to the side as they flutter.

You haven't forgotten what you told him, what you confessed, but right now pushing back the black in the sides of your vision was more important.

And Rorke. What had happened to Rorke?

“Yeah,” Hesh watches you, face screwed with concern. “Yeah, I’m with Harp and Logan. We’re…we’re alive. Rough shape, but alive.”

“And Rorke?” You hold your breath.

“Dead.” Logan ties off a quick tourniquet and your spine tightens in agony, hissing out as your nerves spike with electricity. The brown-eyed man spares you a sorry glance but you shake your head in dismissal. “He’s dead.” 

Out in the water, the enemy warships are firing off missiles inland, some smoking and others already sinking. Merrick gives you the news as Hesh brings a hand up to your chin, tilting your head his way. You go willingly, skin on fire from the scrape of his gloves. 

Logan moves back, having done what he can, before he collapses back into the sand, panting with an arm over his stomach. His older brother’s forehead bumps into yours, eyes stuck. 

“Copy that. The Federation is in full retreat—the rest of the payload is inbound to finish the…”

Whatever else Merrick relays is lost and Hesh’s lips splay over yours, his nose letting out a long breath and body sagging, dead-weight. Cheeks hot and mind running, you let instinct take over and reciprocate, quick fingers pulling at his vest straps.

“Since when?” He asks, breathless when he moves back an inch. 

“After you introduced me to your first girlfriend, Cassie Albrook,” you smile, eyes crinkling. “Seventh grade. The one with the black hair? God, I was so jealous.” 

Hesh chuckles deeply, body jerking as he kisses you again, pulling back and holding your cheek in his hand. His eyes are wide and open.

“You mean to tell me, I could have been kissin’ you all the way back since seventh grade?” Your face moves with pure love, flesh going soft—even the pain diminishes somewhat. 

Merrick’s voice still gruffly moves down the line, and the last bits of his sentence are heard. 

“...Sit tight, Recon’s comin’ for ya.” Everything was looking up. 

Missiles slam into the Federation ships out in the water, the sudden burst of liquid and fire making Hesh briefly cover you with his side to protect you from the shockwave. When you turn to look, nothing but sinking metal remains. 

“I’m sorry,” Hesh tells you, and you don’t have the energy to pull away from his neck as you let your head rest—the thumping of your brain and the calming shadow of his form giving way to believe you had a concussion. 

“Hm,” you hum, letting him continue. His voice echoed in his breast.

“I…I’ve been an ass these past few days, weeks, I shouldn’t have said what I did—wanted to take it back as soon as I turned away from you.” You close your eyes and sigh long, sarcastic even now. 

“You owe me dinner and a movie, then I’ll see if I can forgive you.” Hesh chuckles, nose pressing down into your scalp. He kisses you there as water falls from his chin.

“Sounds like a plan, Doll.” The man lets himself rest, curled around you and waiting for the recon team as the sand and the water move. “I love you too…just so you know. Long time.”

Your failing mind lets off a scoff. But a happy one.

When you wake again, not remembering when you’d fallen asleep, it is to the sound of screaming. 

“Logan!” You jolt up and have to place a hand on your head to stop the pounding. Hesh is struggling to move, fighting to get to his younger brother who you turn as quickly as you’re able to face. “Logan!”

Your face voids of blood. 

Rorke is dragging the other man away, pushing him to the ground as Logan tries to fight like a dog on his back, with only one arm working properly. Growling, you try to stand—body falling and sliding right back down as Rorke kicks Logan’s combat blade from his hand, walking over to you and Hesh. 

He stands and pants, limping from your shot to his foot and a hand across his abdomen in obvious pain.

“Look what you did,” Rorke motions behind him to the still-falling missiles being disposed of from space into the ocean; atop the wreckage of what Rorke had been a part of. Falling to your side, you leave behind a raging Hesh who attempts to move and get to Rorke while you go to Logan. The devil wheezes and points from you to the boys, forcing a grunt of approval. “You’re good.”

Hesh is shoved back by a ruthless boot into the rock, and you snarl, coming over to Logan and his very broken arm as he weakly writhes on the ground. You place your body over his and bare your teeth as if a beast. 

“Rorke!” You bark. “It’s over! It’s done. Everything you’ve built is dead and recon is on its way for us…you’re finished.”

“Nothin’s finished, no,” Hesh tries to lunge again as Rorke’s body stumbles closer to you but falls into ragged coughs and stays on his side in utter agony. 

“Stay away from them!” The man you’d just confessed to hisses, hand grasping futilely at the sand. Green eyes run back and forth from you to Logan, desperate and breaking by the second. “Rorke! You son of a bitch!”

“Nothin’s ever finished.” Grabbing you by the scruff of your neck, you’re being tossed off Logan and thrown to the side in a cloud of sand, body screaming at you as you yell out loudly. 

Rorke bends a knee to look Logan in the eyes, shaking his head.

“You’d of been a hell of a Ghost.” Yelling, you wrench at the combat knife in your vest, set your feet, and tackle Rorke off of the Walker boy with a feral curse on your breath. 

“Get the fuck off of—” Your leg twists with a defining crack as you’re grappled and thrown off, only able to slice a nice long cut down his jaw and at the beginning of the man’s throat. 

Screaming you hear briefly Hesh’s rageful bellow, his calling of your name in high keens of helplessness. Promises of revenge and justice. 

Breath breaking as tears line the back of your eyes, Rorke comes over you and pins your dominant hand to the ground—you look up and grimace, trying to make your body function. 

Move!

Rorke laughs, great shoulders shaking with glee. He’s fucking demented as he continues his sentence from before your fruitless attack. 

“...But that’s not gonna happen, is it?” The man smiles and you struggle as Logan and Hesh rapidly try to assist. 

“Harp!”

“There ain’t gonna be any Ghosts.” Rorke’s eyes shift to Hesh, and you follow with a sense of dread and horror. The man’s mind had been made up when he turned back around, disregarding Logan entirely in favor of you and your ‘unbreakable’ loyalty. 

The joy it would bring him to destroy you and set you loose after such. Set you loose on Hesh. 

He leans in close to you, so you can feel his breath and his conviction. 

“We’re gonna destroy ‘em together.” 

“Harp!” You’re shoved back, knife grasped and ripped from your hand as your broken leg is grabbed and pressure is applied. 

You scream again, arms carding across the dunes as Rorke begins dragging you backward like a child holding onto a stuffed toy. Blown green eyes meet yours, Hesh reaching out and screaming at the top of his lungs for you. 

But he can’t move.

“Harp!” 

And you can’t feel your fingers. 

“I love you,” you whisper, perhaps for the last time and he sees your lips move. Hesh screams and slams his hand into the ground, Logan stumbling to his knees but immediately dropping back with a small cry. 

And Rorke chuckles.

—

You don’t know where he took you, but you do know the jungle floor is cold and wet, and the mud under your fingernails makes you feel gross. 

What you do know is that the earthen walls of the pit you are in are pointless to try to climb—the top is slatted with a covering of long sticks with wide square openings. You know it’s going to rain by the smell in your bloodied nostrils. 

You know that your leg is broken, your bullet wound is festering through the tourniquet, and your concussion is making you sleepy. 

In your head, you count these ‘knowns’ and sprinkle them like seeds as you stare blankly at the sky far above. Everything aches; hurts. When you breathe, it comes in and out with a wheeze. 

You know that Hesh loves you, and perhaps that’s the only fact you care about. Wherever he is, you’re glad he can’t see you like this. 

Rain patters against your head, the storm clouds finally rolling through. Leaves can be heard shuffling on their branches. You breathe in and out, rising and settling your lungs slowly. 

You can’t break—not like Rorke. 

No matter what he did to you, you can’t betray the Ghosts. Logan. Hesh.

Elias’s words echo as you curl into a tiny ball, shivering and whimpering as your wounds move and pull. 

...I’m proud of you. And I’m sure your folks would be too.

You know this game. Torture. They’ll pump you full of hallucinogens, starve you, beat you within an inch of your life; and through that you cannot give in.

But it’s easier said than done.

In the middle of the night, the top of the pit is pushed away and there are the voices of multiple people that dance above the rain storm. They jump down and in the state you are, there’s nothing you can do to stop them from hooking their arms under yours and hauling you up, limp and motionless. 

The words are in Spanish, and you still can make out some over the commotion and the way your hearing dips in and out. 

“Where do we inject….”

“...neck, I believe…arm could work too…”

“...nasty…was it? I heard…mix of drugs…Who knows?”

Your head is harshly yanked back, and the sharp pinch of a needle digs into your neck, the action making your good leg kick out in panic but there’s little you can do. 

A flood of thick fluid enters your veins and like sap seeping out of a tree some drops exit the wound and mix with the rain weighing down your clothes. They’d taken your gear, only your undershirt and cargo pants still clothing you. 

When they’re done, they let you drop back to the floor, where you flop and smash your face into the mud with a weak drag of your cheek along the sludge. With calls from above, a rope is tossed down and they all ascend. The top is clattered back over moments later. 

Laying still and groaning, teeth clenched, already you feel ten times more strange than before. 

“Ah,” you grasp at your head, which was bursting to begin with, as it gains a looseness to it—the mud below you shimmered with puddles, the chill got colder, and your clothes felt grating against your skin. “Not good. N-not good.” 

You pull at your shirt collar, coughing as your eyes bulge; your heart breaks itself as it immediately can be felt hammering into your ribcage far more sensitive than you’d ever experienced. It felt like your chest was going to rip open. 

Panicked sounds emanate from the back of your throat, fingers digging into your scalp as the drugs carry their venom through your blood. 

Your wounds blazed.

You start screaming, babbling for nothing, and pulling at your flesh, but the overhead striking of lightning leaves the desperation mute to all but the trees.

—

Hesh stares at you from the corner of the pit, but his eyes are not green. You watch, silent, barely moving, from where you curl into a tiny heap of bloodied flesh. You’d torn at your skin for days; time looped together with more injections and no food. Water you got from the sky.

They had offered soup, but you knew better even as you dug harsh lines into your neck. There were just more drugs in the broth. 

But Hesh. Hesh.

He wasn’t right—didn’t stand like him, or breathe like him; there was something off about his smirk as he watched you gaze at him in an addled stupor.

“Feelin’ good over there, Kid?” Not Hesh. Not. Hesh.

You’re panting, your body sweating profusely in the humidity and so, so hungry.

Not Hesh takes a step forward and his image tilts like the turning of a page with Rorke taking his place, but as soon as it happens it flips back on itself to your Love.

“N-not right,” you hurriedly whisper.

Not Hesh puts a hand to his ear, kneeling down in front of you. “What was that, now?” A long chuckle. His voice is…is…deeper. Your eyebrows flinch up and down. “Who do you see, Sweetheart?”

“Hesh,” you whimper out. “Hesh, what are you talking about? What’s going on? I…I feel like I’m…I’m twisted inside out.”

“Hesh, huh?” The man looks to the side, smiling. “Well, that’s better than I expected. This’ll be fun.”

“W-what—” A fist connects with your face and you get catapulted into the wall. Before anything else, your stomach is kicked, making your call of alarm get forced out as a gasp as your clotted bullet wound reopens in a great tear. A large hand grips you hard by the chin, snapping it forward to stare into those wrong eyes but the familiar face of Hesh. 

What was he doing to you?

“H…Hesh,” you can’t even stutter out his name before you break down into coughs and gagging; tears rolling down your cheeks, and blood and mud everywhere.

“Yeah, that’s right. You just keep lookin’ at me.” You dry heave and push at his hands, fingernails digging into his skin to create crescent moons. “Keep lookin’ at Hesh.”

—

It’s three months of the same, and you can’t go on anymore.

You lay in a near comatose state on the ground, flesh completely covered in mud and open wounds—maggots eat at your dead skin, wriggling deeper. Not having the heart to pick them out, or even move the few non-broken fingers you have, you lay in blank agony. Pain so deep you can’t scream or make a single noise. It would make it worse; it is making it worse. 

Breathing is becoming a chore.

“Is today going to be the day?! God, I sure hope so.” Hesh looks down from over the edge, fiddling with another syringe of drugs. “Enough blood down there to make a fuckin’ painting out of. Shit…You lasted longer than I thought, Kid.” You don’t look at him. At his dark, wrong, eyes. 

“I’m nearly impressed.” There’s a low chuckle and the crackling of branches. 

You close your eyes and try to think of a single kiss and green eyes, but the rest of the image is tainted to you. Your mind can’t call it forward without the corruption of the puppet ahead of you, this shifting specter of mist and smoke.

Memories that used to bring you comfort call to fear and spine-curling hurt. 

This couldn’t be Hesh, you told yourself for the millionth time, but…who else could it be? Your body was too broken to try and work through the hallucinations, to think or rationalize.

There’s a thump of boots and a grunt. Someone coming closer as birds speak far above. Singing. It's the first you can recall another living creature being this close to the smell of infected decay.

 “Now, now, let’s see that neck of yours.” You’re seized and pushed onto your back, head lulling and eyes fluttering. Hesh’s image shifts and bends into another, one you should be able to name but can’t quite recall. It’s hard to focus. “Just one more, and we can fix this. Together. No more Ghosts, huh? We’ll make it right.”

Birds songs. Birds and flying shadows. Rapid wing beats like an eagle or the pound of paws on the ground. 

There is an un-godly snarl and a call of rage. 

“Rorke!” The dark-eyed Hesh snaps his head away, his needle stilling in his grip only inches from your flesh. He’s grappled and ripped away, thrown up and slammed down into a full-body jerk of pure strength not a second later with a cry of shock. “Get the fuck off of her!” 

Shadows roll and wrestle, feral yowls like that of beasts bounce off your impaired hearing, mud stuck in your ears. You think your vision cuts out for a moment because the next there’s a different man gripping your shoulders, slightly shaking you back awake.

Blue eyes like the ocean. Your brow barely twitches in confusion. 

Keegan? 

“C’mon, that’s it. Right here.” A light is taken and directed right into your eye in the fading light. “You’re doin’ great, Harp. Just keep lookin’ at me.” 

The light passes over your blood-coated eyes and barely diolates. Keegan’s lips under his balaclava thin to an alarming degree. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, looking down at you before he darts his vision over to Hesh, the actual Hesh, who’s locked limbs with the former Ghost; fists to guts and primal anger. 

In his haste to get to you, Hesh had damned himself—he’d left no opening for any of the others to get a clean shot at Rorke. But no one could blame him, even if it was reckless; incredibly stupid. 

The man had been on your trail nearly every day since you’d been taken. Barely sleeping, eating little. A man possessed. 

The Ghosts had been half convinced something had taken over his image and scooped out his personality.

“Merrick,” Keegan patches into the secure line, looking back down at you. “Positive ID on HVT, three klicks West. Hesh has engaged—we found Harp.” 

There’s an instantaneous response, worried breath. “Solid copy…how’s she doing?”

“We need MedEvac immediately. She won’t last another night.” There’s a curse on the other end, a loud and quick call to the rest of his squad. 

“Copy! I’ll call it in!” Keegan tries to stabilize you as Hesh and Rorke rip each other to shreds, and Hesh, who had the upper hand in the beginning, is quickly losing it.

“Awe, look who tracked ‘er down!” Rorke snatches at Hesh’s collar and lays two jabs to his ribs—there’s a definitive crack as the younger man shouts in pain. “Young love! So fucking pointless.” 

“I’m going to rip you into pieces,” Hesh bares his teeth, eyes wild and unrestrained. For a moment Rorke looks taken aback by the utter conviction in his green gaze. “And make you choke on your own damn teeth! You hear me?!” 

Ripping away with a tear of fabric, Hesh bends low and tackles the former Ghost to the ground, splaying him out on his back before his fist is snapped back and brought down; again and again and again. 

“Hesh!” Keegan shouts, pressing deeply into your wounds and trying to give you fluids with one hand. “This fucking kid.” The Sergeant gives up, shaking his head. 

Trust had to be given, and Keegan knew that at this moment he had to trust Hesh to hold his own. He needed to keep you conscious. 

“Easy, Harp.” You can feel the cracks in your dry throat as the water seeps past them, and you cough up droplets before the blue-eyed Sergeant tilts your head and helps you. “Easy, Sweetheart.” 

Keegan doesn’t even want to look at your body as the brutal sounds of a fist on bone continue, clothes scuffling and gargled breaths—the savagery and barbarous remnants of mental and physical torture too much even for him. 

“Christ,” he hisses. 

You gulp down water slowly and let it fill your stomach like a brick. 

Hesh reduces Rorke’s face to a mess of flesh and busted bone, sweating and not even stopping as his knuckles split under his gloves or his fingers dislocated from their sockets. His eyes burn, his face goes red—he looks insane. 

He looks like a spirit of utter revenge. 

Only when Logan and Merrick drag him off the spasming body does he stop, but not after he tries like hell to fight out of that hold as well. Whipping around, he attempts to land a punch on Merrick before Logan is forced to put him in a restraint hold. 

Hesh’s cheek meets the mud, face being sunk into it as his right arm is twisted so far behind his back it nearly breaks. The older brother growls, free arm and legs moving—back sliding. 

“David!” Merrick barks at him, face pulled in a sneer, enraged at the man’s lack of sense. “Shut this shit down. Look at her, dammit!” Logan gets bucked off, but the youngest Walker boy has enough sense to wrestle him back down and grab onto his chin; forcing those green eyes to lock on you and Keegan. 

The second he sees you, he entirely freezes.

Merrick sighs out harshly, jogging over to you and already checking in with the MedEvac that Kick’s flying in. There would be no resistance—all the other hostiles were dead. 

“Jesus Christ,” the Commander breathes, kneeling by you instantly and studying your body. 

Hesh’s reaction is slower, but the spread of vile tears burns the back of his eyes. Logan lets him go at seeing this, standing and holding out a hand, but the brunette stays on the ground a moment longer; utterly still. 

Hesh’s mouth opens and closes. 

All at once he’s rushing over and limping up at your side as Merrick grabs more medical supplies from his packs to help you. 

“Oh my God,” Hesh breathes, and Keegan sends him a glance. You’d drank all of the water. “Harp, hey, you’re going to be okay—it’s gonna be alright, you hear? I’m right here, Logan and I are gonna get you home. Back to California, okay? Riley’s waitin’ for you, Doll.”

You flinch at that voice, and Merrick looks sharply at the blue-eyed Sergeant. Their eyes lock, holding for a long moment. Logan’s brows tighten in confusion. 

The brunette seems not to notice it at all, hands finding your cheek before Merrick can give him a warning. Your eyes slowly shift to him before they peel back with fear.

Hesh’s vision goes glossy, clenching his jaw. “Shit, what did he do to you—”

“Hesh!” 

You yell and yerk back, shoving the man off of you with a fear-filled sob. 

“No!” Keegan and Merrick grapple to keep you down, not wanting to aggravate your wounds as Hesh falls to his ass, hands slapping behind him before he hisses and brings them back up. He blinks quickly in confusion and panic.

Logan rushes over and hides him from your view, beginning to understand what was going on. 

“No!” You call again, Keegan having to hold your head into his chest to hide you away. Merrick yells down his comms to hurry the Helo up, and that he doesn’t care about anything else. “No,” your voice gargles off as you sob into Keegan. “Please, no more.”

“Shh,” the Sergeant mutters, looking over his shoulder at a pale and shaking Hesh. “Nothin’s going to happen to you. Not anymore.” 

“Harp,” Hesh whispers, jaw slackened. “I…I don’t…”

“Hallucinogens,” Merrick says grimly, watching you shake and wail. Logan has to look away, his fists clenching. “Who knows what she’s seen. Reckon it wasn’t anything good.”

It’s like he doesn’t hear anything besides your cries. Whenever you gasp Hesh tenses as if he wants to run to you—comfort you the best way he knows how. 

Hallucinogens? He thinks and feels tears dribble down his cheeks as he blinks, rubbing at his jaw and shakily placing a hand over the back of his neck. Logan puts a heavy grip on his shoulder, weighing them down even more.

—

Rorke’s death should have been a time of celebration—of honoring the fallen. Elias Walker, Ajax, and countless others. The Federation was nothing more than broken factions now. Dust to the wind. 

But no one can celebrate when they’re trying to fix one of their own.

You were being kept in the secure medical ward under twenty-four-hour surveillance and around-the-clock care; only Keegan was allowed in, seeing as you were the closest to him outside of Logan and Hesh and had no adverse effects to his presence. 

Merrick had said he didn’t want to risk Logan going in, as it might worsen things. Hesh was taking it hard. 

He just got you back, how was this right? How was it fair that you’d had to go through that right when it was supposed to be over and done with? The man got sick over it, thinking about what Rorke had done to…break your mind like he had. 

Two months. 

Two months of nightmares plaguing him, of your eyes when you looked at him. If Hesh had just been stronger, then that bastard would never have dragged you away on that beach. He resulted in working out more, running laps around Fort Santa Monica with Riley at three in the morning—he grew bags under his eyes. He grew quiet. 

When all of his broken ribs and fingers healed, the artificial wounds, he was offered awards for taking down Rorke; even a summon by the President. 

He’d denied all of them. 

If a medal was going to get you better faster, he’d have taken them in an instant. But he wasn’t that stupid. Hesh was withering, and everyone saw it. He loved you more than anything—more than fame or recognition. The man lay awake at night fearing that you were too cold or uncomfortable in the far-off ward, he was paranoid about your safety. 

More often than not, the nurses found him and Riley fitfully sleeping outside of your door on the hard ground, arm used as a pillow. They didn’t have the heart to move him.

In the last two weeks before the third month of your isolation and evaluations, in his nighttime routine, Hesh finds your door open. 

He stares at it now with a blank expression, fatigue once burning his eyes all gone for a deep and pounding panic. With a hand gesture, Riley halts and sits, and, sensing his handler’s mood, lets his ears go straight up in attention. 

Hesh reaches for the gun in the back of his pants, peeling it out slowly and taking a nearly silent step forward. Ready, his ears strain for a sound…but there is none. 

His free hand reaches for the door, the short sleeves of his gray sleep-shirt bunching. A moment later, he lightly taps the barrier farther out before entering the room with the gun drawn.

He said he wouldn’t get distracted, but it would be a lie to say his eyes didn’t immediately go to you. 

You were there, asleep, curled up on the far recliner chair instead of the bed. Head lulled to the side and knees kept close to your chest. But it was the scars that broke Hesh.

They were large and long—on your face and arms; legs. All moving and stretching like a child’s drawing up your sleep shorts and shirt, disappearing only to reappear somewhere else. Healed over but still fresh.

Hesh drops the gun and turns his body slightly away, staring at the side wall before he takes an unsteady breath. He re-hides his weapon and turns to leave, not seeing anyone else.

Maybe Keegan had forgotten to close the door…he’d have to chew him out for that. Already a dull point of anger was making his jaw clench at the sly older man.

“Bastard,” Hesh mutters.

Before he can exit and close the door softly behind him, he hears a broken squeak of alarm. He halts as you stare heavily into his back—awoken by the sound of nearly silent feet. In a steady motion, the man’s hands are by his sides, open and visibly holding nothing. 

“I was just leaving,” Hesh whispers, not looking at you. His heart hammers. “I’m sorry, I thought someone else was in here—the door was open, okay?” 

Your hands twitch, body still and breath held tight.

“Hesh?” He flinches, eyes closed tight. 

Don’t look at her. Don’t turn around. Leave.

“Are you really…him?” You ask silently, eyes darting nervously around the room and quickly waking up fully. 

It’s a moment before he answers you. 

“Yeah,” he forces out, voice tiny and sad. “Yeah, it’s me, Doll. Just David Walker.” 

Your throat bobs with a thin swallow. Treatment was still ongoing, but it’s not every day you wake up to find the man who you had nightmares about standing in your room. 

Breathe, you have to remind yourself. It was the drugs. Not Hesh. Never Hesh. Rorke.

But you were still scared. 

“I…I need to see your eyes,” you say. 

Hesh turns carefully, staring hard at the floor. His heart lurches, hands going clammy. 

What if she has a setback? He asks himself. What if I mess this up…Shit, Hesh, you couldn’t have minded your own business?

Oh, but he never could when it came to you. 

“Then look at me, Sweetheart.” The man breathes slowly, darting his eyes up to your face. “They only belong to you.”

But your gaze can’t slip to his sockets, only able to glare fearfully into his neck. But this Hesh felt different, more like the one you grew up with—those memories still coming back but tainted; you need to see green, but it was hurting you to think that you might not.

“I’m scared,” you admit, shakily. The man’s thighs tense, but he stops himself before he can go and take you into his arms. That wouldn’t help. “I’m…I don’t know what’s real anymore.”

“I’m real. I swear to you, Harp, I’m real. I’m right here and I’ll wait for you as long as it takes. Even if it’s years, I will always be right here.” He pleads, hands still at his sides and going nowhere if you don’t tell him to. It’s like a floodgate opens, months of internal pain and heartbreak spilling out. You needed to know this, even if he never got to see you again. 

“I have loved you since I saw you get jealous over Cassie Albrook in seventh grade and tried to hide it because you thought she made me happy—she could never make me happy, Harp. That was you. That was always and will always be you. I…I can’t breathe when you’re not near me, I don’t know how to act right when you’re hurt. Seeing you hurting is…is…” Hesh’s voice breaks and he falls silent. 

“Please, if you need to look into my eyes, I’m beggin’ you, Sweetheart, please, do it. Even if it’s only one glance.” Your breath is stuck in your throat, tears welling and sliding down your cheeks. 

In your skull your brain pounds, bordering on hysteria and an urge to flee. There was so little that you trusted anymore. Keegan, yes—the nurses and doctors? You had no choice there. 

You knew that the Hesh you’d seen in the pit was Rorke, Keegan had explained it all to you after the drugs had been pumped from your system; you understood that part. But it didn’t make the sickening confusion any better.

Symptoms of severe PTSD, paranoia, anxiety—you’d seen the charts when the nurses thought you weren’t looking at them. 

You still wouldn’t let anyone with a needle anywhere close to you, had to be put under for it. 

But you’d been so lonely here. A simple kiss seared into your mind before the horror set in, a stain of a smile on your lips. A chest vibrating with a content purr. 

Hesh. You want your Hesh back. 

Taking a stuttering breath, your eyes dart upwards. You push through your misty gaze and lock on a color that can only be described as a grassy field of verdant growth. Great open plains of viridescent being—showing you a world bathed in tender belonging. 

Home. 

You sob and rush from the chair on legs that still hurt even now, meeting Hesh in the middle as he takes a step forward and wraps his arms around you. You’re covered and kept in a hold so tight it’s like he’ll never let you go, heart pounding and his face loose with shock.

But he says nothing beyond a loud shuttered exhale of relief, pressing you to his chest and burying his face into your scalp, breathing you in; taking you down like a sinner in church until all that remains is you. Your fingers digging into his shirt, your face in his neck, how you call his name as if calling a ghost back from the dead.

“Oh, my Girl.” Hesh chuckles through the tears in his eyes. “My Girl. I missed you so much, you won’t even believe it.” 

You push yourself into him tighter. 

Riley, at some point, had come to stand in the doorway, his dark beady eyes seeing only the colors in gray, brown, yellow, and blue, though that never truly mattered. Color was only half of the picture. 

And the rest of the image in front of him was seeped with the pigment of love. 

The dog’s tongue lulls from the side of his mouth, and in the air behind him, his tail moves back and forth into a soft arch.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @waves-against-a-cliff, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

#cod #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #x female reader #call of duty x you #call of duty x reader #hesh walker x female reader #hesh walker x reader #david hesh walker #hesh walker #cod ghosts #cod ghosts x reader #call of duty ghosts #cod x female reader #x fem!reader #call of duty: ghosts

[average-vibe]

.•silence•.

Pairing: Wilbur Soot X Fem!Reader

Summary: What happens when people take you and wilbur’s relationship out of hand?

Genre: Angst (i’ve become angst girly at this point 😭)

TW: Cursing, wilbur’s toxic

A/N: Am i a sucker for angst? yessir. will i apologize? no way

masterlist

Lowercase is intentional :)

rumors of you and wil had been spiraling around the internet for a while now. there was always a creepy side of the internet that shipped the two of you together, but at this point the “wilbur x yn” posts you had been seeing were getting out of hand.

the fan fictions, the DMs, the tweets, everyone thought the two of you were together.

but you weren’t.

you didn’t mind the rumors, and you had definitely thought about it, and talked about it with him, but you had never actually done it. and you didn’t especially want to, either. it would ruin the friendship, and it would make his music career much harder.

you and wil had tried to figure out a way to address the rumors, how to let everyone know that the two of you were simply friends.

and today was the day that you were going to do it.

“ready?” wilbur asked, looking at you with stress. he had his mouse on the “start stream” button, and about 13,000 people were waiting. the title of the stream was “discussing drama”, which definitely drew more in.

you sucked in a breath, overwhelming nerves stressing you out. “yeah, i guess so.” you mumbled, watching him hit the “start stream” icon.

“hey guys!” wilbur greeted, waving at the chat, who were all spamming “HI” and “HELLOS!” you waved idly at the fans, giving them a small smile.

“hi.” you quietly spoke, glancing at the two of you on stream viewer.

“Okay, first things first, let’s get down to business. we need to address some rumors.” wilbur said, face turning serious. “we’ve seen the tweets and stuff about us being together.”

there was a small moment of silence, letting everything set in.

“yeah, and, here’s what we have to say.” you continued. “we aren’t together. we don’t really want to be. it would mess up our friendship, and it could hypothetically get in the way of our work.”

another moment of silence. chat was being productive, spamming “YESS” and “I TOLD YOU FUCKERS!”

you laughed at some of the comments, glancing at wil, who was being really, suspiciously quiet. “Have anything to add, soot?” you asked, trying to get words out of him.

“no, i thing you covered it pretty clearly.” he said, a hint of harshness in his tone.

a extra long moment of silence. chat was now quiet, “…” filling up the void of space left for chatters.

“i think that’s all.” wilbur said, waving goodbye and ending the stream.

“what the fuck?” you asked.

“what?”

“i dunno, wil, you seemed pissed off when i said ‘we aren’t together.’!”

a moment of silence. a long one, at that.

“oh, i don’t know, maybe it’s because you added “we don’t want to be together.’.” he spoke harshly.

“i didn’t know we wanted to be, wilbur! why are you so fucking mad? your the one who brought up the idea!” you responded.

“jesus, yn. how do you not understand? i never fucking said i didn’t want to be with you. ever.” he yelled.

“so you do?”

“maybe! i don’t fucking know. you made it sound like we would never get together!”

“that’s cause we CANT!”

“WHY?! you say would ruin shit, but i don’t fucking care! just admit it, yn. you would’ve never date me.”

“FINE!” you said, grabbing your keys. “I would never fucking date you.”

you stormed out of the house, fuming. why was he so fucking self centered? did he not fucking understand that you didn’t want to be with him? because everyone would go crazy? did he not see how people would react?

you huffed as you sat down, opening your phone to see a single message from wilbur.

wil: fuck you.

let’s just say, neither of you slept that night.

—

an: hi bitches! i’m sorry this was very dramatic lol! ily you all sm 🤟

#wilbur #dsmp #wilbur soot fluff #sbi x reader #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x reader #wilbur fanart #qsmp wilbur #wilbut soot #wilbur mcyt #dream smp #tommyinnit #tommyinnit x reader #las nevadas #meme #lol #okay bye

[marwhoa]

request: Leo x gn!reader who's pressure-touch-starved in the way that if you put a weighted blanket on them, their brain would short-circuit. What happens when Leo decides to use Y/N as a mattress? 😏 ~🌺👸

🝮 “ skin hunger touch-starved ”

rise!leo x touch-starved!reader

author’s note: woot! another request after how long? has it been a week since i posted? oop— my bad y’all, i was in break but ended up a tad bit on the lazy side uwu 💕 this is moderately short, but i would say i had fun with the extra details in the leo-donnie convo :33 as always, i hope you enjoy reading, and consider maybe sending in a requesty-wuesty~?

word count: 1.0k

“ I just don’t get it, Donnie! ”

Leo complained, laying on his plastron in the middle of his brother’s lab—who, let the records show, was not enjoying the company at all (at least, if he was, he would never admit to it.) He huffed, propping his head up on his hand while the other hand traced circles on the floor. He expected to pick up dust but was a little weirded out to find it perfectly spotless.

You could eat a dinner plate on this damn floor?

“ Y/N’s been so sluggish and stressed out lately—more than usual! And they’ve even been awake as late as I’m up, and I’m nocturnal, Donnie, nocturnal! ”

“ Insomniac, ‘Nardo, not nocturnal. ”

“ Same difference! ”

“ No—What? Heavy sigh. ”

Donnie grouched, spinning in his chair to face his brother who splayed out on his floor. Don’t think for a second he didn’t notice those grubby little fingers rubbing his floor.

“ If I help you, will you promise to leave me alone? ”

Quite literally grasping at straws, Donnie dragged his hands down his face then rested his gaze upon the all-too-smiley blue-banded brother. Leo gave a nod and sat up, crossing his legs.

“ Tell me again what’s going on. ”

This time it was Donnie’s turn to rest his head in his palm, legs crossed and elbow pressing into his knee.

Leo cleared his throat.

“ As I said, they’re much more stressed than usual and not sleeping at well. They flinch when I touch them, but I don’t know if they dislike it or are just, I don’t know, surprised? ”

“ Who wouldn’t be surprised if you touched them? ”

Donnie cracked a grin then yelled as he narrowly dodged a tossed item. It made a crash that wiped Donnie’s smirk off immediately— just what did he hit! That was a mess to clean up, and best believe he’s pushing it for later.

“ Har-dee-har, Dee. They’re just so drained, a bit snappy here and there, and just.. I want to be able to help them, but not even they know what’s wrong. “

After a few moments of silence, Donnie popped his fist into the palm of his other hand in a, “ got it! “ way.

“ Skin hunger. ”

“ Excuse me? ”

“ Sigh, my good man! This is Y/N we’re talking about. Knowing them, it sounds like maybe they’re experiencing effects of skin hunger—or, more commonly known as Touch starvation. “

Donnie spun back around, standing to look for the previously thrown object. He had continued speaking, but it was all deeper, more scientific stuff, and something about cortisol.

“ So they’re starving? For touch? What does that mean? ”

Leo stood up too, walking over to see if he could help find the object lost to the void, only to be pushed back by a mechanical arm and a grumpy glare.

“ Touch starvation is a common problem for humans to undergo, especially as a social species that has physical contact so ingrained into its culture. Y/N probably needs some form of physical contact, such as a hug or holding of the hand. “

Donnie holds his hand up, shaking it with emphasis, before then dropping his goggles over his eyes. Just what did he throw? And where was it?!

Leo started smiling wide, bouncing on his feet. In one fell swoop, he swiped open a portal with his sword before Donnie could say, “ not in the lab! “ and leaped right on through, straight into Y/N’s living room.

“ Y/N? ”

He called inquisitively, looking around. There was a groggy response from your bedroom, one that quickly made him connect the dots—you must’ve been sleeping! Wait, what time was it? No, never mind that, he came into your room, leaning in from your doorway as he searched for you.

“ Leo….? “

Y/N grumbled, wriggling beneath their blankets until finally their head popped out. Curious eyes landed upon their beloved blue, not-so-belovedly interrupting their desperately sought after sleep.

“ What are you doing here? “

There were a few more tosses and turns from under the blankets until finally they flipped the blankets over and off their torso, resting at their waist.

“ I discovered your ailment—“

“ Ailment? ”

“—Yes, ailment, with Donnie’s help! And I know just the thing to cheer you up. Hopefully. “

Y/N unintentionally glared at him, not exactly sure if they wanted to entertain whatever plan Donnie had put him up to. After all, who knew what the two of them talked about?

Alas, before you could agree or disagree to the terms of this experiment, Leo assumed a jumping position, announced “ POUNCE IMMINENT! “ and proceeded to launch himself at you. A startled yelp left you, expecting to be in some form of pain after this, but found that he had landed over you with a grin.

“ Where’s the trust, Y/N? ”

And with THAT, he thumped against you, and you involuntarily gave an “ umph! “ from the sudden weight.

In any other situation, you would have no issues with yelling, bopping, or scolding your way out of this—you were in no way, shape, OR form a mattress! But, your stammering came to a stop as it seemed the weight of your boyfriend was somehow curing all the metaphorical weight bearing on you. You were beginning to feel…

Better? Oddly as if it were easier to breathe? Deciding against a protest, you hummed low and quiet while snuggling your face into Leo’s neck, arms lazily wrapping around him to pull him in closer (which was physically impossible, but hey, no one said you couldn’t try.)

Leo was shockingly quiet but grinning ear to ear. His arms wrapped around you too, snuggling up.

Plenty of silence passed you both as you lavished in the luxurious comfort the gods had been bestowing upon you right now, not daring to break the silence with any questions….

For long, at least, since there was like ONE little inquiry crawling up your throat.

“ … What did Donnie even say? “

Leo hummed a “ hmm? ”, much too comfortable himself.

“ To make you know to do this? “

There was a muffled “ oh “ against your neck that stirred a few giggles before he then pulled up his head to speak.

“ Something something skin hunger, something something too much cortisol. “

He then thumped his head into your pillow. Maybe that was the best answer you would be getting out of him..

And, maybe that was okay…

You were getting a bit tired again, and something was telling you that this sleep would probably be the best you’ve had in a while..

#Leonardo x reader #leo x reader #rise leonardo x reader #rise leo x reader #rise tmnt x reader #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt leonardo x reader #tmnt x reader #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt leonardo x reader

[redactahoe]

old friends die hard pt. 1

A/N: heeey so ive been working on this for awhile and am so glad the first part is done.

summary: for the past 6 months treasure has been… off. Porter didn’t know how to describe it but something was going on with his favorite human and he didn’t know how to help. The last time they talked was 3 weeks ago and since then they haven’t been answering his call. So porter decided the next best thing was to drop by unannounced.

Tw//: talk of missing memories and nighmares (kinda), porter is so soft for them its not even funny, this is also in the not so distant future where porter and treasure is an establish relationship, cussing, treasure yells like once

codes: (T/N) = treasure's name and (D/N) = darlin's name

The first but last thing Porter had expected to see when entering his human’s apartment was the living room to be void of all light save for the glow of his treasures laptop screen. Open and set in their lap as they sat on the couch, a weighted blanket resting on their shoulders as the skrunkly little cat they found on the street a month ago slept behind them on the back of the couch. a forgotten bowl of what he can assume is some form of soup sitting on the coffee table along with a half empty mug of tea in front of them. 

Glancing at his watch as he walked closer to the couch, it read 3:30 AM. his gaze lifts back up to get a better look at treasure's face. Their usual dark circles under their eyes somehow had gotten darker since the last time he had seen them. Their eyebrows were scrunched up in a mix of frustration and concentration, lips pressed into a deep frown.

“Treasure, when's the last time you've actually gone to sleep and had a proper meal?” Porter asked, having a feeling that the answer wasn’t going to be anything he liked.

“I don’t need to sleep right now.” they frustratedly almost angrily mumbled out.

“(T/N) im being serious…” Porter came closer, leaning over the couch and careful no to disturb the sleeping feline. He noticed that There were several pictures strewn across the couch and coffee table, some were in frames and some weren’t.

The picture propped up against treasure’s computer was of a tiny 10 year old treasure, In the front yard of what could be assumed to be their childhood home. They were lying on top and wrestling with another kid, pulling a smile onto the kids cheeks as they tried to push (T/N) off of them, clearly enjoying themselves. Porter immediately recognized that kid as (D/N) or Tank, Sam's mate and the wolf from the Shaw pack.

Porter picked up the picture to get a closer look “did you know them, treasure?”

“I DON’T KNOW!” treasured screamed out and through their hands up in exasperation before dropping them to bury their face in them, digging their palms into their sockets. They were both silent for a minute before (T/N) finally spoke up in a quiet and defeated tone.

“.... I'm sorry i yelled at you, it's just- I've been so stressed and so confused lately. It's been driving me nuts!” their hand moved to hold the side of their hand while the other stayed to rub the exhaustion out of their eyes.

“What's going on my love?” Porter's voice dropped to a low concern as he rubbed his treasures shoulders trying to sooth them as best as he could.

“Sigh, recently I've started to have these…. I don’t know how to describe it but every time i close my eyes I see them” treasure waving their hand in the vague direction of the childhood photo.

“But there's always something wrong with them, with their voice, with their face.” “Their face is always blurred out and their voice is always distorted.” “It feels more like someone tried editing them and everything related to them out of my head more than me just forgetting them or not knowing them.”

“How long has this been happening?” Now the porter was really concerned, It sounded like a memory wipe done by the department was wearing off. He’s heard of it before, it was a rare phenomenon that happened to the unempowered that were wiped but re-exposed to the empowered. It didn't happen often but when it didn’t it never ended well for the unempowered in this situation, in the three recorded cases the department has published it always ended in insanity and a trip to and a permanent stay to grippy sock land or the psych ward for those who are boring out there. 

“Ever since I met you”

“What was that?” 

Treasure threw their head back in exasperation “ever since i met you.” they said a little louder, they didn’t want Porter to think that he was at fault for their dilemma. It wasn’t, it never was, it's just that ever since they've known him their memory started acting up. It's like he jumped started buried memories to start resurfacing.

“But if it's been happening for that long then why is it now becoming a problem?” Porter on the other hand was more concerned about the fact this has been happening for a better part of a year now and (T/N) hasn’t said anything about up until now.

“ because only recently have the faces started to clear up, only recently have I've been able to make out any sort of facial features! And when I was able to see a face it sparked even more memory and caused me to rip apart my closet to find these pictures to make sure I wasn't going crazy.” “I can recognize the faces as someone i knew, someone i cared about but their voice and more importantly their name i can't get down, so I've been trying to find a solution but i keep running into dead ends.” (T/N) gestures to the laptop for Porter to take a look and well.. It was nothing but some Pseudoscience bullshit about crystals and shit that would most definitely wouldn’t help.

“Okay, your-” porter stops speaking for a second to shut the laptop before continuing “-going to get up and go shower while I am going to clean up and make you something proper to eat.”

“But-”

“No buts, go.” This was not something porter was going to debate with the human at all. 

So with the end of that ‘argument’ (T/N) got up, stretched(much like a cat, porter would like to add) and padded off to their apartment's shower, their fluffy companion following soon after.

As soon as his treasure was out of ear shot, porter pulled out his phone to call the only person he knew who could possibly help.

#redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted audio #redacted darlin #redacted fanfiction #redacted porter #redacted treasure #redacted verse #redactedaudio #redactedasmr #redacted solaire clan #redacted shaw pack

[ticklyblues]

YOUR FIRST FIC WAS SO CUTE AAAAAAAA!!!!!

if you wouldn't mind another request, I would love to see ler!gwen and lee!pavitr!!! their dynamic is a missed opportunity in general, but also, there's barely any gwen tk content unless it's a buncha people ganging up on one personnnnn!!!!!

ANYWAYS, I think gwen going after pavitr because he's overworking himself w/school and spider stuff to force him to take a break would be neat. or just any concept where she's trying to get him to do/say something!!!

uhHhh, if you want specific spots, I hc pav to have chin and lower back melt spots and his underarms as a death spot!!! but with your lovely writing, you could probably use anything, and I'd agree wholeheartedly

sorry for the essay!!!! blows kisses /p

Thank you so much, thats so nice of you to say all that! Also I 100% agree I do not see enough gwen content in general and she definitely deserves some!

Blows kisses back !! /p

Taking Breaks

856 words

Lee!Pavitr

Ler!Gwen

CW: minimal swearing

It was a pretty slow day at the spider society. As usual, there was some new Peter, some old Prowler, and some everyday disasters. Nothing they'd need their "small elite strike force" for, though. Starving, Gwen made her way over to the cafeteria to find some spider-themed delicacy to wolf down.

"Spider-donuts, spider-cupcakes, spider-popsicles... hm. I feel like that one might be a little offensive." Mumbling to herself, she grabbed a few spider-sandwhiches and started inhaling her first one.

BUZZZZZZZ!!!

There goes the 11:30AM alarm. Miguel likes to keep things orderly, so he has bells every 30 minutes to keep track of time in a "neat" way, as he describes it. Gwen's hair messed itself up as she snapped her head to look at the clock. "Shit!" she whisper-yelled, she was supposed to meet up for Pavitr's lunch break 15 minutes ago!

In a split second, she was travelling to his dimension, sandwhiches in hand. "He doesn't even LIKE tomatoes..." Grumbling as she tossed the sandwhich abominations into the void, she prayed that he wouldn't mind her tardiness. Despite his occasional sarcasm, he was still a pretty forgiving guy.

Out of breath, she finally reached his school roof, their unofficial "meeting place". There was a surprising quietness in the air, meaning there was no way Pav could even be in Mumbattan, let alone school. The dude has pretty chaotic energy, okay?

Gwen doesn't have to look around to know this. While she thought it was odd that he'd be even more late than her, she found it in herself to wait. After what felt like an eternity, he finally bursted through a portal, still wearing his spidersuit.

"Woah, Gwen! I am SO sorry you had to wait for me, I had some spider stuff to take care of and on top of that I have, like, 4 papers due and-"

"No, no, no! I totally understand, dude. Besides, I just got here too." She didn't mind lying just this once, it was for Pav's sake after all. "You sound exhausted though... you alright?"

"Yep! Totally alright over here! Don't worry, Gwenny. I know how to manage my duties!" His totally-not-stressed tone might've fooled her, if he didn't have that weird grin on his face. Gwen knew, whenever Pavitr Prabhakar pulled out that fake smile that didn't even show all his teeth, something was up.

"Pav, are you sure? You know you can talk to me about this sort of thing, right? You really don't have to overwork yourself with all this, especially since you're still in school. I don't have anything on my plate, let me handle the spider stuff for you, it's the least I could do"

"Bro, I swear! I don't need to take a break from anything. I love what I do, it's almost too easy! Besides, even if I was overworking myself, there isn't much you can do to- EEK!"

Alright, she had been provoked. Gwen started clawing at his belly, pinning him to the hard, concrete roof with her free hand. Pavitr's loud, airy laugh filled the city's sky.

"Gwhhehehehen!!" Out came his smile. The dorky smile that showed all his teeth and truthfully, looked kind of stupid. But that smile was his, and he wore it proudly.

"Pavvvv!" Gwen whined, mockingly. "But seriously, dude. You gotta relax for once. The first step is realizing that's what you need!" Sensing this wasn't going anywhere as is, she quickly flipped him over and started tracing his lower back.

Pavitr almost turned into jelly at this. Even though he quieted down a little, his attempt at a backwards fetal position spoke volumes.

"Plehahaeeseeee?" Barely being able to form words at this point, he tried his best to look up at the Spiderwoman and make a sort of frowny face. Gwen snorted at this. "Puppy eyes aren't gonna work on me, pal! All you have to do is let me take over for you for a little bit."

Wanting a little more of a reaction, she gently flipped him back over and tried scratching at his underarms. Nothing could have prepared her for the borderline HELLISH shriek that came out of that boy's mouth.

"HEHEHEHELPPPP!!!! GWHEHEHEEENNNN I'LL DO ANYTHIHIHIHING!!" This was a lie, and Gwen knew it, obviously. If he really meant it, he would've told her to stop by now. Staying at his armpits, the Ghost-Spider switched techniques to vibrating softly. If before's screams were considered hellish, she wouldn't even know what to call these ones.

"EEEEEEEKKKKK!!!" Feeling bad for the guy, she moved her hands upwards to the little spot under his chin. Going back to melt-mode, Pav tried his best to get his words out. "Fihihihihineee!! I'll let you tahahahake overrrr!"

Pulling her hands back, Gwen helped him get up. She was glad he could finally relax, now that she'd be replacing him for the time being.

Pavitr's break ended with him and Gwen, drinking tea and spending time in eachothers presence. They didn't talk, and they didn't need to. Because they knew that no words needed to be exchanged for them to be as close as they were.

#tickles #sfw tk community #tickle thoughts #sfw tk blog #sfw twords #tickle fluff #tickle community #across the spider verse tickle #across the spiderverse #gwen stacy #pavitr prabhakar #lee!pavitr #ler!gwen #tickle fic

[ramzawrites]

Dream World - A Sibling!Mutant!Reader Story - Part 1

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

GEN

Pairings: None

Characters included: Leonardo

Warnings: swearing

Series: Yes!

Summary: Y/N just your average human being who goes to university. Meeting up with her friend to study only to procrastinate to watch movies with her. So when Y/N falls asleep in their living room, next to their best friend only to wake up somewhere else. And when suddenly a weird green monster appears in front of them they can’t help but panic and be mighty confused.

Word count: 3212

Authors Note: I wanna write some sibling stuff plus I enjoy mutant reader stories but there aren’t a lot. This idea just grabbed me and didn’t let me go so I will try to work on it every now and again but it will be probably be slow updates. That said I actually took the time to map out the story for once, so I’m hoping to actually finish this one. I just really need a project to work on at the moment.

Y/N knew immediately that something was wrong when they woke up and felt eerily peaceful.

Normally their mornings were stressed and hectic, them rushing around their own flat to freshen up and get dressed all while battling their sleepiness that was still deep in their bones.

Today though they woke up and it was nice and quiet. A stray sunbeam managed to fall through their window, bathing their face in a soft and warm light. This must be what has woken them up, but Y/N didn’t mind since for the first time in a long time they felt somewhat rested. Sure, their usual fatigue was still there but it wasn’t the sleepy haze that pulled at them, beckoning to return to the warmth of their bed, back into a dreamless void.

Yeah, today was surprisingly peaceful.

And this unnerved them.

There was no possible way that this would be the start for their day. Something must have been off, something forgotten.

But what?

Y/N absentmindedly pulled on their blanket, pulling it further against their face as they pondered what on earth could they be forgetting?

Almost as if the universe wanted to help out, their phone rang and when Y/N read the name on the screen they let out a panicked shriek. With this sudden spike of panic, that truly seemed to wake them up, they grabbed the phone and pressed on accept.

Lurching forward, pushing their blanket away from them only to kick it to the end of their bed, they yelled out “Oh my god! May! I’m so sorry! I just woke up!”

May’s laugh filled their ear “I fucking knew it! Honestly, I expected you to be late, but it’s been an hour now!”

Y/N pressed their hand against their forehead, sighing a deep painful sigh “I’m so sorry. I’ll be over there as soon as possible, and I owe you definitely a coffee and a snack. Give me like twenty minutes!”

“I mean I was about to say I waited an hour for you I can squeeze in a few minutes more, but free food does sound fantastic. Don’t stress yourself but get your butt moving!”

Yelling out a hasty goodbye and a few confessions of appreciation and love towards her good nature and patience, Y/N basically threw the phone back on the bed to sprint into the bathroom.

They knew they shouldn’t have hung out with both of their sisters till like 3 a.m. but they couldn’t help themself! Nowadays it’s difficult to get the whole family together since it seemed like they all managed to choose universities or colleges that have been too far away from each other which meant that it wasn’t a thing of casually meeting up anymore.

Both sisters had managed to visit Y/N during their free time, spending a few days at their place. Sadly, both drove back home at around 3 a.m. since they too had plans tomorrow.

Hence why Y/N is here an hour late even though they promised May that both would meet up to study for their graduation exams. It was the last two semesters and since time liked to fly past them, they offered May that the two begin slowly preparing. It was something a few teachers and professors said as advice. Y/N already knew this would mostly just be preparing for the immediate next exams and not the graduation exams, which was fine by them.

After all, Y/N liked to be busy and prepared. May would always roll her eyes at that but still go along with it. It’s also the reason why May called them Bee for a nickname. Y/N is a busy bee indeed.

That didn’t mean though they didn’t oversleep… every now and again. Or often.

After getting dressed and ready, Y/N threw their hands into the bowl that held their keys and fished them out with an annoyed sigh. Taking one more look in the mirror they decided that they looked presentable enough which meant they could finally leave their apartment.

It only took a few minutes until they arrived at their local library since they lived pretty close to campus. It was an incredibly lucky find and they were still praising whatever higher being was out there that allowed them to find a cheap flat close to their university. It even had a living room! It wasn’t just bedroom, kitchen and bathroom but also it had a god damn living room! Having a living room while only working part time jobs due to university was something special, alright?

It wasn’t difficult to spot May. It never was. She loved wearing brightly colored dresses that seemed to shine even brighter against her black skin. May also had a penchant to put little decorative clips into her black curls. And if that wasn’t enough, she also had the most warm and brightest smile Y/N has ever seen on a human. Being in the same room as May always seemed to cheer them up no matter what.

Today May wore a nice yellow dress with orange flowers printed all over it. She had her hair simply pushed back by a yellow hairband that was adorned by orange plastic flowers.

Y/N softly placed the coffee cup they bought on the way to the library and pushed it into May’s view, since she was still busy reading some sort of textbook.

Her eyes first landed on the coffee cup quizzically before her gaze followed Y/N’s hand and arm to finally look into their eyes.

“Y/N! You are finally here! And with an apology as well!” she happily exclaimed as she grabbed the cup without question and took a hasty sip from it only to immediately choke on the hot drink.

Setting down their bag on the table to sit down next to their best friend Y/N began cackling at May’s behavior “You damn well know it’s from the café outside, I really thought I didn’t have to warn you that it’s hot!” They were also holding onto their own hot drink, though clearly not taking a sip just yet.

It took a few more coughs until May could finally respond “Well, you should have. I was just so happy about a free macchiato that I lived briefly in a world where drinks were at the perfect temperature and not too cold or, if you can believe it, too hot.”

“Well, I hope your tongue isn’t too destroyed from a clearly hot beverage that you had your hands wrapped around because I also brought us this” A grin spread on Y/N’s face as they moved their hand that was hiding beneath the table to show that they were holding on to a little package.

May gasped excitedly “Cookies! I love it when you come too late, Y/N.”

“I don’t” Y/N deadpanned only to break out into laughter alongside May.

Fishing out their laptop Y/N placed it in front of them “Welp, time for the not so fun part. Might as well get this over with and then maybe we can do something actually fun.”

“Alright. Let’s get the show on the road then.”

It didn’t take long for more books to cover their table as they begun studying. It wasn’t going horrible, but both were groaning every now and again when they reached a new block in the road.

Luckily since the two had the same major they could help each other out or work together to find a possible solution.

While they took quick breaks in between they decided at one point to grab a salad or a pastry from the café outside. Since they have been cooped up inside the library for hours now, they decided to sit outside of the café with their newly acquired food.

May happily dug into her salad “So, why exactly did you oversleep this time?”

“Oh! My sisters visited me, and we hung out and talked for hours on end. It was nice seeing them both after weeks of just talking via phone.”

As Y/N continued to tell May all about what has happened in the lives of their sisters, May just kept smiling happily. Every now and again throwing some remarks in to keep the conversation going but she mostly kept on listening to Y/N’s happy rambling.

At some point Y/N became aware of this and faltered for a moment, feeling it rude to gush about their sisters to their friend while the two were hanging out but May immediately asked them to give her the details as to why the youngest decided to leave her part time job for another.

May was great like that. She knew how much the two meant to Y/N and she was always happy to hear about them. Their sisters met her a few times as well over the years, so it wasn’t at least Y/N rambling about strangers to May. Even then she probably wouldn’t have minded.

It made Y/N remember that May was also patient whenever they ranted about their current hyperfixation.

Y/N stopped talking as they took another sip of their drink, eyeing May as their thoughts kept swirling about “I’m glad I know you, May.”

Instead of just laughing it off or exclaiming that this was weird to say May’s smile just widened “Aww! I’m glad as well!”

She went quiet for a second. Both just happily basking in the little moment before she spoke up again, changing the topic “Well, if your reason for being too late are your sisters, I would have even forgiven you even without the coffee. Happy I still got it though.”

She stuck her tongue out towards Y/N for a second before taking a sip from her new coffee as if to almost make a point, even though this time she paid for her drink herself.

“Since I kept talking about my family, how about you tell me how your mom and brother are doing! Your mom doing better?”

May nodded energetically “Yes! The flu has finally decided to leave her alone! Good for Derek honestly because he was stuck with having to take care of her. Try telling my mom to go lay down and rest when she is all like ‘It’s just the dishes’! I’m surrounded by workaholics, for real!” She made sure to also narrow her eyes at Y/N accusingly.

Y/N’s eye lit up “That reminds me! We should definitely head back and continue working. But sorry, continue on.”

“You can’t be real, Bee! Just a little bit more! You can’t tell me that your brain isn’t still smoking as well! In fact, how about we head to your place and put on a few movies. I’ll even buy some snacks for us. You know as a way to strengthen us so we can deal with all the studying that will be upon us in the weeks coming.” May had the edges of the table in a death grip as she slightly leaned forward. Surprising even Y/N who is pretty much used to May’s mannerisms.

With a pained expression Y/N mulled this over. Studying is important but movie day with May and snacks sounds amazing indeed. Free snacks at that.

And to Y/N’s chagrin there was May, widening her eyes and pouting. The puppy dog eyes. Y/N’s kryptonite.

“No, we can’t… There are exams coming up…”

May leaned even closer, somehow her brown eyes seemed bigger and shinier.

“I won’t fall for it, May. I’m so much stronger since last time you pulled this.”

“Please?” May asked. Her voice wavered even a bit. Putting every ounce of emotion into this little word.

Staring another few seconds into May’s shining eyes they sighed, visibly slumping down in their chair “Alright. You win. Movie day it is.”

May pumped her fists into the air “Yes! Yes! No one can withstand the May puppy dog eyes!”

“I feel like at this point I should unionize with your mom and Derek so we all can work towards breaking this win streak of yours.”

“You may try but you all will fail either way. I would only need to break one of you for all you to fall like a house of cards.” She stood up to grab Y/N’s hand so she could start tugging them along. It reminded Y/N of a child that wanted to show their parent something amazing.

Y/N stood up and begun following May back to their apartment “You are evil Miss May Wellis.”

“And yet you love me!”

“Just barely.”

“Hey!”

After going to the local corner store to grab some snacks, the two finally reached Y/N’s apartment. May was bouncing on her feet the whole way. Rambling off all the movies she really wanted to watch.

Once Y/N opened the front door of their apartment May brushed past them to make her way into the little but comfy living room. May loved hanging out at their place and honestly half of the decoration in the apartment was from her. She loved to make the small place as comfortable as possible.

Honestly if there was enough space Y/N would have offered for them to move in together already since May was lowkey already living here anyway, but alas multiple things got in the way.

The living room had a huge fluffy rug in front of the sofa which in return was covered in a ton of pillows and blankets. Courtesy of May, of course.

Y/N grabbed some drinks out of their fridge and went back into the living room to sit down on the rug next to May who was already making a bit of a nest using all the blankets and pillows. The snacks were on the ground ready to be taking and snacked upon.

“So, what do you wanna watch?” Y/N asked as they settled on the ground against the sofa.

May scooted over towards them to lay a blanket across the two “How about we rewatch The Mitchells vs the machines?”

This made Y/N chuckle “You really love that movie.”

“I do!” May exclaimed, throwing her arms into the air to accentuate her point.

With the remote in Y/N’s hand they just nodded along as May counted off all her favorite things about the movie “Alright, alright! I choose the next movie though!”

Opening up Netflix, Y/N looked through for the movie and started it.

Almost as if to show off how often May did watch the movie she began voicing along a few lines whenever she could which made Y/N just laugh along happily.

The movie ended way too soon for May’s liking, but this gave Y/N the chance to choose a movie. Choosing one of their own favorites. The second movie soon moved unto a third movie which led to a fourth, fifth and even sixth one.

Y/N and May chatted while they watched. Mostly about their essays and exams but also more about their families. Both had perpetual smiles on their faces as they casually cuddled together how they usually did during movie nights.

May’s head at some pointed landed on Y/N’s lab and when they absentmindedly begun playing with her hair, she let out a big yawn.

Minutes later May was fast asleep in their lab and it didn’t take long for Y/N to follow along as well. Falling into a dreamless sleep, holding on to their best friend. Their last thought being of how serene and happy the day was.

When Y/N woke up again, they once again felt unnerved.

Their eyelids felt like led and it took a lot of patience and concentration just trying to open them. Were they that deep in their sleep?

Yet as their eyes opened it seemed their gut feeling wasn’t for nothing.

They expected a lot when they woke up. Either they would have woken up and saw that they somehow managed to sleep sitting up, which would probably end up with a painful neck. Maybe they would have fallen down on the ground next to May to sleep. Maybe the two would have woken up just to properly get into their own beds.

But when they opened their eyes, they were met with a concrete ceiling.

Their flat did not have a concrete ceiling!

As panic rose in them, they shot up, only to be overwhelmed as their head began to pound. It felt like their skull was being split in two and they couldn’t help to curse as they clenched their eyes shut to get through this sudden pain that wrought havoc through their head. It seemed like every pound coincided with their panic ridden heartbeat.

Trying to get through their pain Y/N took deep and slow breaths. Everything was wrong but right now they needed to clam down and get through this. They needed to find out what exactly had happened.

There was a sudden gasp next to them. Fear struck like lightning through them. Their head immediately snapping to the sound.

A panicked and hoarse shriek left Y/N’s mouth as they saw something they could only describe as a monster.

It was a person? A green person. A hard surface, maybe a plastron, across his chest and something like a shell on his back. A blue bandana across his wide eyes. Two red crescents marked his face across his eyes. He was clearly in the middle of just casually walking into the room as he spotted Y/N awake. It looked like he literally froze up in the middle of his movement.

Y/N realized they were on a stretcher and moved back against the wall. It felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. Everything is wrong!

The weird person monster thing suddenly seemed to realize that he must have frozen up because he shook his head to get out of his stupor, his shocked expression now changed out for a big smile.

He immediately strode closer to Y/N who tried their best to meld into the stone wall behind them.

“You are awake! Oh my- You are awake! How are you feeling?”

Y/N tried to say something, but panic seized up their vocal cords.

Blue, they decided to call him after his bandana color, seemed to notice their panic because his happy expression changed back into that of worry.

He softly put his hand on their shoulder in an almost familiar fashion, definitely noticing them trying to flinch away “Hey, hey. It’s alright. You are fine! You are safe!”

Are they though?

As they finally spoke, they noticed how hoarse their voice truly sounded “What… What is going on? Who- What? Who are you? What do you want from me?”

They didn’t think it’s possible, but Blue’s green skin seemed to pale. His mouth falling open as he took a step back.

“Y/N? You don’t remember… me?”

Y/N frantically shook their head. Should they? How? When? He did know their name though but there could be plenty of ways to find that out.

He just stared at them, probably trying to read their expression. His hands flew towards the top of his chest, his finger tapping against himself “I’m… Come on. This is not funny Y/N.”

But when Y/N didn’t relax he must have realized that they were very much honest with him.

“It’s me! Leo! Leonardo! Leon Neon! You know… your brother!”

#Reader x rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt reader insert #leonardo x reader #leonardo reader insert #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt leo reader insert #rottmnt leonardo x reader #rottmnt leonardo reader insert #ramza writes

[sillywillybillywilly]

Chapter 2

Evolution

Adam blacked out. He wasn't sure what was going on, until the real battle. He couldn't fully understand and he couldn't see a lot. He just heard talking. Then he heard deans voice. He wondered if his half brother was disappointed he said yes. He couldn't understand what they were saying but he could make out who's voice was who's.

His, which was Micheal speaking

Deans

The angel that saved him

And Sam. But Sam didn't sound like Sam.

He remembers hearing the angel yell then everything felt hot. Then Micheal appeared in front of him. He looked exactly like Adam it was bothering. Micheal was hunched over and panting. He had his arms wrapped around himself like he was grabbing his wings. His eyes were wide and pure bright glowing blue.

"Micheal? What happened out there?" Adam asked.

"Holy fire." *Micheal said before fully composing himself. Big bright wings popped out as he raised high and tall. Adam's eyes widened and then Micheal was gone. He could feel Michael's distress when he went back out. After a few minutes he felt a tug and rumbling.

"Micheal? Micheal! What was that?!" no answer.

Adam was nervous. "Answer me you- ass!" Adam was mean when he was nervous.

Adam went for what felt like hours without answer. No matter how much he yelled. Eventually he grew tired and just sat in this dark void. A few minutes later Micheal appeared. He looked stressed, tired, and upset.

"Seriously?! You- you let some major thing happen and you don't even tell me what's goin on?! What the h-" Adam rambled before being given a scary and dark look from Micheal. Micheal looked down again and began mumbling something in Enochian and that slowly got louder. He banged a fist on the imaginary void wall that made Adam flinch from how loud it was. It sounded like thunder.

"I failed." Micheal spoke. He didn't looked at Adam. Adam narrowed his eyes but not out of judgment. It was more sadness, fear, confusion. How could he lose? Adam stayed quiet. Then Micheal closed his eyes and Adam felt that rumbling again. The void around him began to collapse. He tried to stabilize his balance as everything around him fell apart.

Then a new puzzle began to build. As it built more and more Adam began to recognize it. It looked like his old house. "What-"

"Its the mindscape. It's where you'll be staying." the hell is a mindscape? When everything was finally built Adam looked around. Shocked. He smelt like his house, looked like his house, and felt like his house. "So what I'm gonna be trapped in here while you're out there jazzin?" Adam didn't like the idea of Micheal using his body without him knowing what's going on.

"If your idea of 'jazzin' is fighting to keep your vessel unharmed then yes." Micheal spoke with a hint of snark. Adam couldn't help but cock an eyebrow at the unharmed but Micheal left before he could ask. What was he gonna do...was he stuck here?

Adam sat on the couch and thought. Michael's gotta have plan. Right?.... Oh maybe he's just foolin himself but honestly that's all he could do. To he honest he was scared. Scared he'd never get out, scared Micheal would kill him, scared Lucifer would kill him, scared he'd never see his mother again. Adam decided to try and take a nap even though he didn't need it. He just thought it be a good way to past time.

He woke up the Micheal just leaning in the frame on the door, staring at him. Adam rubbed his eyes as he slowly sat up. His vision adjusted and he saw Micheal more clearly. He was confused and slightly disturbed.. "Do you need somethin?..." he asked. But got no response. Micheal just simply left. Already he knew that the time he spends in hell is going to be....interesting.

#spn #supernatural #adam milligan #midam #midam spn #spn headcanon #<3 #sillyposting #archangel michael #ilovethem #midam fic #micheal spn #lucifer spn #gabriel spn #sam winchester #dean winchester #spn archangels

[yourneighborhoodneighbor]

kool aid

(masterpost to my fics while ao3 is down) AO3

In his defense, Danny had been 14 when he died.

Everybody knew that teenagers were going through some crazy changes on pretty much all levels, and so being a teenager didn't lend itself to the most “rational” of decisions (though Danny would argue that that was subjective, really).

So it was no surprise at all, he thought, that there were only three things Amity Park knew about its resident vigilante for certain: that he was dead, that he was as feral if not more than the people he fought, and that his name was Kool Aid.

That's right, Kool Aid, like the drink. 

See, Danny, he was just fourteen when his whole “being dead” situation had started. And then pretty much immediately the whole “ghosts are attacking now, apparently” thing had followed. Danny, in equal parts guilt over the whole situation and teenage impulsivity had decided he was going to be the one to deal with it. 

At first, it had admittedly been a pretty stressful and awful situation, but pretty soon he had realized that, by having a secret identity, he could pretty much do whatever the hell he wanted with little to no repercussions (aside from the ghost hunters, amongst them his parents, but that would have happened regardless simply because he existed, so he didn't really count that one).

And so Kool Aid had been born.

Danny thought it was a rather clever name himself, having an element of heroism in it (Aid), a nod to his ice core and ice powers (Kool), and an element of nothing but self indulgent fun (Kool Aid, cmon, that was hilarious-).

In order to embrace his namesake, the half ghost had taken to phasing through walls, floors, and generally anywhere that wasn't the door or the window in a grand display of snowworks (like fireworks, but but from snow, get it? Oh, he was such a clever jokester-) when coming across either a ghostly attack or human crime. He refused to actually break through the wall unnecessarily because he was a Very Good Boy who understood property damage and followed the code of “confuse, don't abuse”, thank you very much.

Regardless, he was preparing what he wanted to do next time he needed to stop a crime while floating above the roof of the Nasty Burger when he heard a yelp followed by the sound of someone getting punched. He showed his notebook and pen into The Void and flew toward the commotion, deciding to try out his plan right now.

And so he donned his pizza delivery uniform he had totally legally acquired what do you mean stealing is bad, grabbed an empty pizza box from The Void he had stored just for this purpose, and flew toward the commotion.

What he saw when he arrived, invisible of course, he didn't wanna ruin the surprise, he saw what seemed to be a group of four ghosts fighting amongst themselves. Well, that wouldn't do. Danny was all for letting loose in a good old fight, but these guys were wrecking the place around them. ANd as stated, Danny was a Very Good Boy who didn't condone reckless property damage (unless the property was yours, then by all means, that was fun).

He flew inside the backroom of the Nasty Burger and, deciding to actually use the door for once, slammed opened the entrance to the backroom and stepped out into the alley with the ghosts with a too big feral smile on his face.

“Did y'all order a pizza?” he yelled, stumping the ghosts for a second, them only staring in absolute befuddlement. Really, these guys didn't know how to take a joke. Oh well, he tried.

“No? Bummer. How about some ass-kicking instead? Free of charge! 😊” he exclaimed. The other ghosts barely had time to react to that before Danny was already putting the box (empty, he wasn't about to waste a pizza) upright in front of the closest ghosts face, before punching right through in a very canon-man-through-the-circus-wall kind of way, nailing the other right on the nose. After that it was a pretty quick fight, involving some whack-a-mole to the head with a pizza box and some definitely-not-salsa dripping from said box, ending in some souped ghosts. 

Maybe Danny should see about making a Fenton-Pizza-Box, like his thermos but as a pizza box. It would be so so funny to kneel in front of a ghost as if he was about to propose and then open up the box, just for the ghost to get sucked in. Although, maybe he should do that with an actual ring box. Oh well, he fought enough ghosts that he would probably get to do both.

But for now, the Kool Aid man needed to go back home. There was unfortunately still homework to be done.

#danny phantom #crack #fanfiction #my fics #yourneighborhoodneighbor

[z0mb13-b0y]

☆ Papa Joel Miller!

(Not sexual, simply Papa Joel:3)

⚠️: small mention of blood, slight angst but mostly just fluff

TW: None.

• He found you in the apocalypse by yourself, crying and holding a knife close to your chest scared of everything that moved and immediately had to help you in some sort if way since you were only young..

• He took you in and gave you what food he had without a word as to not stress you out and to keep your composure.

• After awhile of eating what food he had given you he spoke up, "Im Joel, what's your name Kiddo?" he spoke softly, a tint of worry choked in his voice.

• You give him your name shortly after and he smiles warmly at you, "Y/N.. do you have anyone with you?" He asks gently, trying not to cause you any stress.

• You explain to the unknown man that you have no one anymore in the apocalypse, tears prickled your eyes as you speak, your voice slowly collapsing..

• He sighs deeply and listens to you choke on your words about everything and what happened to everyone, for the first time in years he felt pure sorrow for someone other than himself.

• After a few months of getting to know eachother he takes you to many places, exploring the forests and abandoned city's full of the dead yet keeping you unharmed..

• Over time you slowly started to look up to Joel, as a friend and yet a sort of Father Figure for yourself.. he was there for you when you needed someone, anyone and he replaced that growing void in your body with himself and swearing that he'd protect you from harm as long as he lived.

• It finally happened, years after you both had met he was now in your eyes your father figure and he saw you as his own.. he told you the stories of his daughter years ago and thats when you realised that not only had he replaced that growing void within yourself with Love but you did the same for him..

• He gave you whatever he had to keep you safe and healthy, teaching you many things along the years with him.. you met people together but it never truly stayed that way, but thats okay.. you have Joel.

• He helped you with anything you needed and he was always there trying to support you in this hell of a world, you were there for eachother.

• One night you both got into an argument about supplies, you argued about him not eating enough and he argued about you needing to eat more than him.. you left the camp with a bow and arrow with the intention to bring him food, he always supplied you with what you needed and you always tried to convince him that he needed to look after himself aswell..

• Joel started yelling at you to come back inside but you didn't, you left and wandered into the forest in search of deer or anything really..

• Joel was worried, sitting on one of the chairs in the barely lit and cold, leaky cabin worried and choking on almost every breath praying that you would come back okay or just even come back at all..

• You returned almost 2 hours later with a deer dragging behind you and 2 squirrels tied to your waist, you had a gash on your thigh through your pants but you paid no attention and only kept your focus on bringing the food into the cabin for Joel.

• He jumped up and ran over to you, pulling the deer inside and immediately grabbing whatever gauge he had.. "What the fuck happened, Y/N?" He asks angrily, panting as hes just ran around searching for gauge and carrying the rest of the deer inside.

• You sit on the chair, squirrels still attached to your waist as you pant heavily realising you were bleeding and it was hurting.. "I needed to get you food, Joel.." you mumble out, he grunts angrily as he starts tying the gauge onto your wound and keeping pressure, he looked up at you with a look almost telling you that he wanted to know what happened.

• "..and there was a few runners 'n clickers.." you mumble out, his face turned pale as he jumps up and grabs the sides of your shoulders tightly, "Y/N, please tell me you weren't bit." He asks, his voice full of worry and despair as he waits for your answer.

• "Nonono I wasn't bit Joel, im fine.." you give him a light smile hoping he'd feel better..he sighs loudly before bringing you into a tight hug, "Dont go out at night never the less alone, Y/N.." he mutters softly, "Your welcome for the meat" you chuckle in response..

• Everything was okay, you were okay and Joel was slowly calming down but still grateful for the food.. he chuckles and releases the hug, "Thank you" he sarcastically mutters.

@pisfarter3000 Thanks pookie for the submission (even tho you constantly BULLIED me for it) still love you tho😚

#joel miller #joel tlou #tlou #tlou2 #papajoel #the last of us #the last of us 2 #headcannons #submission #gn reader

[mintibunny]

(@driftward) I want to try a thing... questions for the choir, if you'll have them. What is your character's preferred way of coping with stress or difficult situations? and also maybe... How does your character react to change or unexpected situations? Are they adaptable or resistant? This is the first time trying this, so maybe we stop at two - kindly pick a choir voice for each one, if you would. <3

(Minti) Alright, who's answering this one?

(Steel Queen) Please specify prompt.

(Minti) You know what I mean.

(Signora) We really don't, darling dear. Do what the nice construct says: "Please. Specify. Prompt." Just so.

(Minti) Twelve save me, you just want to see me get mad.

(Signora) Dear Minti, according to some chirurgeons, you might as well be. Mad, I mean. Addled. Touched. A few fastening bolts short of a magitek armor.

(Minti) PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF HYDAELYN, SOMEONE PICK A PROMPT TO ANSWER. ANY OF THEM.

(Signora) No need to shout. The more you do, the more you'll be sent to a nice seaside resort. For your health, of course.

(Minti) <Incoherent swearing>

While that ship of fools gets to sailing, I'll just step in and address you, the question asker person. Hello. This is the Volunteer, or Royal Volunteer if you want to get formal. Pleased to make yer acquaintance, yer excellency, or what have you.

"What...is your character's...preferred way of...coping with...stress? Or difficult...situations." Alright. Don't mind the yelling, Her Royal Voidness is poking Minti with a trident at the moment - er, metaphorically. What's that saying for when you have a voidsent on yer shoulder?

A-Anyways, we don't like stress around here. I certainly don't. Makes getting your jobs and daily outings for tomestones real tough. Used to be, in the beginnin', that Mint would just run, you know, going from town to town. Problem came up, poof, no more viera. Can't get yer tent tied down if you didn't put stakes down in the first place, if that makes a lick of sense.

Of course, there're problems inherent with running. I'm told that's how she met that big Roegadyn samurai, actually. Run from one problem, try to steal - whoop. Big guy had her up by her arse, taught her a lesson or two about not grabbing what's not yours.

Nowadays, there's more of a foundation for any tent-puttin'-down business. Lot harder to run when you got people who care about you, and places you want to be. Gives you things to fight for. So, I try to get her to, y'know, talk about things. Get into a reliable routine, get her up n' off her arse. Be around friends. Let her find a nice lady-friend to cuddle up with, maybe.

---

<Signora and Steel Queen, in unison> Please specify prompt. Please specify prompt. Please specify-

<Minti> *In mental agony*

Excuse me, is this on? *Tap tap, loud microphone feedback*

EXCUSE ME! I am so, so sorry for that, I was not expecting that. I am so sorry.

Hellooooooooo! Hello.

Can you hear me? Helloo?

I'm just going to *assume* you can hear me, since, ah, I realize that this is a text-based medium and not one that uses a verbal/audio component. I mean, it technically has a verbal/audio component if you use your mind or appropriate organs to make sound-

SORRY. Sorry. Okay. Uh. This has gone far off the rails.

I don't have a name yet, I apologize. Or a picture, like the other members. Or, like, a biography. I'm Melody, or Aria, or *something*. I think that's my name. Is that a good name? Do you like it? Can you, like, nod your head or shake your head or something? Or shout REALLY LOUD at the screen. Thank you.

I think I'm a mix of the voices from crystals Minti has. Sage, and Bard, and...something...else...I think there was someone else here, but they left, or they gave up their spot to me. Huh.

THE QUESTION. Your question. Oh. Oh dear. I am so sorry. Okay, I'm going to answer it, and then you'll feel better, even if I can't Esuna you or Cure II you.

"How does your character react to change or unexpected situations? Are they adaptable or resistant?" Right!

I can say anything I want here, right? Anything I feel. Well, if you have to know (and you do), change is a big deal for me. For us.

Change stresses me out. When obstacles happen (and they happen a lot), it's hard to go "Well things will work out, and things will be okay, and everything will be good." And, it's real easy to just, fall into that cycle. Over and over. All the time, every time.

We're adaptable, when we want to be. Really adaptable. We just need a push or two in the direction we're supposed to be in. And change comes, and it hurts, and it's painful. But sometimes, that change is a good thing. Healing has to start from somewhere, you know, if you don't know.

Like when Minti picked up her Sage crystal! That was a big change. Going out after that rogue Viera and his goons, and getting beat up, and wondering if we were ever going to fulfill our promises to that nice paladin...but we did! And now we're pretty good at Sage! That's something good, isn't it? Out of change.

Oh dear. That's an awful lot to read for just one little question, huh? Or two questions. It's okay, though! We got them answered for you, and now, now we're gonna take a nap.

When The Signora takes one. Oh dear.

Bye!

#final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #final fantasy oc #ffxiv #minti wol #minti chocolate #final fantasy viera #answered asks

[uwuowotf2waslife]

How would the mercs react to s/o having a breakdown because of stress?- Needing this lately ;w;

Kinda accurate about the current state of my life but oh well

Scout kinda , freaks out. Not in the external but the internal sense, he kinda gets the frustation but seeing it at his S/O ticks him the nervous way. Que him running around trying to find things to comfort S/O. He is trying, maybe failing but trying :’)

Soldier… soldiers and gets along screaming with his S/O at the wall to expell their frustations, fuck stress , yell in void and rocketjump your way to Waterloo

Pyro… heres a lighter bunbun; and heres some gasoline..now lets make some noise DahrlIng

Heavy is confused but understands the situation, you may touch sasha and shoot at some practise targets (Karens, annoying managers, etc)

Demo, wanna blow some shit up dear? Legooooo… actually has an adult discusion and tries to comfort you in adult ways because demo is a dream husband only you are worthy

Engie is sad but knows the mood. You are allowed to smash some shit with his tools to get some steam off. Seeing you all that agresso makes him also devilishly h( demonetised)y so hey, meltdown stressfuck it is owo

Medic is intrigued and just observes the meltdown until some sense gets smacked into him and steps ups his comfort game. You may do some surgery with him to get your mind off or just sit on his lap while he tells stories about stolen baboon livers and silly doves

Sniper is shit at emotions but is a practical man. Stress is bad, mental breakdown bad so how he fix it? Ya know it, is in the cards! Practise hunting with Scout as the prey! Hooray!

Soy tries his basic approach to all solutions: intimacy, if it fails he sticks to second all time favourite: french flerting, if all allas fails , heres the inviswatch and heres itching powder, do what you need to do mon petit chou chou

#tf2 fandom #tf2 imagines #tf2 headcanons #tf2 x reader #tf2 shiposting #not selling fresh watermelons #virginity rocks #fluff to cure the sad

[lilac--sun]

Some angsty headcannons bc im in that type of mood:)

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

Cross once followed Error into the anti-void bc he was curious and literally had a panic attack because of the big white space and nobody found him until like 4 days later and at this point he was a mess

When dust has a bad episode he has a bad habit of scratching at his throat so he has claw marks at his throat, one of the MANY reasons he won't take off his papyrus' scarf

Killer while he's still gaining back most of his emotions he has days were he can't feel anything and it scares him to no end because he doesn't wanna hurt the gang

Horror still struggles with food, hes constantly in a sort of panic state where he's always worrying about everyone getting enough to eat. Hes also not revealed to the gang most of what happened in his AU so he keeps a lot of things bottled up

Errors crashes vary, more mild crashes are nothing more then him fainting, being out for a few hours and waking back up but his more severe ones can feel like hes being burned alive, that feeling of being held underwater and needing a breath(etc) and these can last up to hours or days it really depends

When Nightmare is changing back into his passive form its excruciating. The goop pools out of him like skin melting off and he feels every second of it, he sometimes begs for someone to makes it stop because it can last up to 3 minutes and the gang will try and comfort him the best they can until it's over.

While changing into Passivemare isn't fun going back to Corruptedmare is just as bad. A black apple will form infront of him and like hes in a trance he will grab it and eat it without a second thought and the goop will overtake his body and he will feel the burning pain that he felt the first time he ate the apple, he usually calls out for Dream to help him because thats all he can think of at that moment. His brother.

Error is extremely stressed all of the time and when the tension gets so high one things could go wrong and he just snaps he will go on a rampage, its usually yelling at people until he starts crying and he'll curl up into a ball and just sob, the gang knows he needs this to be able to calm down so sometimes they push his limits a little bit and they know what he says is mostly directed inward anyway

Horror usually scratches at the edges of his crack and it gives him an almost soothing type pain but after he's done spacing out/picking at it, it hurts so bad to the point hes in tears and has to either sleel it off or cry because he doesn't like people using magic for him bc he feels useless when they have to heal him

Killer is the most outgoing of the group but he is so worried about not being good enough for the gang, he pushes his own limits (mentally and physically) because hes so scared of being left behind by them

Dust has a hard time controlling his anger because back in his au he was able to express it over and over and over again so when something makes him mad he uses his blaster on it and flips out and If it gets to out of hand he gets phsycial with the gang and then he goes and hides for hours because hes so scared of himself and he'll do nothing but apologize for the next week

After Nightmare and Error separated Cross and X-Chara Cross as felt extremely lonely, he knows its for the better but he'll just stare off into space for hours now, he has no one who knows exactly what hes thinking and knows him well enough to help so he often has breakdowns

#bad sanses #undertale headcanons #error sans #horror sans #nightmare sans #dust sans #killer sans #cross sans

[raggellion]

Carlisle Cullen x Bella (Reader)

Part 1

Notes: Idk I was so bored lmaoaoa

Warnings: Dirty asf, SMUTTT, oral sex and blood (not blood kink tho), Carlisle being hot

Word count: 1.9k

———

I felt so much guilt. Maybe it was the way that the muscular boy in front of me gazed into my eyes. His chocolate brown iris’ melted into mine as he gazed at me with concern.

It was no secret that Jacob was infatuated with me, hell, even Rosalie brought it to my attention a couple times. My heart always cracked a little each time I’d turn him away.

“I’m fine, Jake. It’s just a little cut.” I reassure him. My attempt at dispelling his fear was void. He gripped the cloth at my wound, which was oozing with crimson horror.

“If you’re really that concerned, take me to Carlisle. He’ll h-“ “Are you kidding me?” The werewolf cut me off.

“I’m not taking you to those freaks! They’ll drain you dry.” He exclaimed, eyebrows furrowing.

“You know they aren’t like that, Jacob.” I attempt to stay calm. Edward and Jacob have always been at odds, so convinced that the other is this monster whose only purpose is to cause me harm.

“Bells… if you think what you need right now is a… blood sucker… I will take you. But I want you to know that I am not leaving your side.” He said slowly, and I nodded, absorbing every word.

Jacob was silent the whole ride over to the Cullens. I could tell he was angry by the way he clenched his jaw, the way his knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel with vigor.

Believe it or not, I really had no intention of stressing Jacob out. It was my decision to want to go to the Cullens. Even though Jake is insecure about my previous relationship with Edward, Edward isn’t really the person he should worry about. We ended things about a month ago… for the better of course.

The tall vampire stood outside his modern home as we pulled up, almost as if he knew we were on our way. I cautiously open the car door, and get out of the vehicle. The cloth that was wrapped around my wound squelched with every press of the fabric, crimson liquid daring to seep out of the fibers. I gave Edward a questioning look as I held the cloth to my torn skin.

Golden eyes danced between Jacob and I, he didn’t know which look to address first. “Alice…” he mumbled, revealing that the petite vampire had a premonition of my little accident. Great… someone else had to witness that.

The door swung open, revealing a certain pale, blond, vampire doctor that had recently been the main character of all my dreams. My heart leapt in my chest at the sight of him. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing the veins that ran up his forearm.

Flashbacks of last night’s dream came crashing down on me. My eyes clouded as I remembered gazing at Carlisle, his toned body on top of mine. I knew this Carlisle was merely a figment of my own imagination, but damn it felt good to even picture it. To hear him say my name over and over again.

Bella… Bella… “Bella!”

Jacob exclaimed, shaking my shoulders, forcing me to exit my dazed state. “God damn!” He yelled in relief as I finally responded to his attempts to bring me back to reality. I took a look around me. We’re inside now? “Okay, Jacob. I think it’s time to give Bella some space and let me take a look at this wound here.” Carlisle said softly, his velvety voice made me slowly melt.

“I’m not leaving her alone!” Jacob retaliated. God, can he shut up. “I’m fine, Jake.”

It was sweet of Jacob to be so concerned but I really was not in danger. Especially not with Carlisle.

Jacob glared at me, flickering his gaze to Carlisle before turning around and slamming the door. I sighed at his discourteousness. “I’m sorry about him… he’s just…” I begin to apologize to the wise man before me.

“Territorial.. almost like a wolf.” He finishes my sentence with a light hearted chuckle before continuing. “It’s quite alright Bella… Let's see what we have here.” He said, carefully removing the red stained cloth.

“Do you mind sharing what happened?” He asked softly.

“I was out in the woods with Jake… I… slipped on some rocks.” I say, struggling to make out the words under the pressure of his gorgeous honey eyes boring holes into my entire being.

“Good thing is, I don’t think you’ll need stitches. Just a couple bandages and you should be on your way.” He said with a small smile, eyes trailing off. “I noticed some blood on your shirt… do you have another wound?”

I did.

“Oh.. It’s probably nothing.” I laughed nervously.

“Come on, Bella. If you’re injured, I need to take a look.” He said somewhat sternly. The tone of his voice sent shivers up my spine.

My hands shakily removed my top, pulling it over my head to reveal more skin. Goosebumps rose against the surface of my bare arms and stomach as my upper body now merely wore a bra.

My arms wrapped around my body as he gazed down at me.

“Bella, I am a doctor. There is so need to be ashamed.” He coaxed, slowly easing my arms away from my body. The wire of my bra painfully clamped over the wound.

Carlisle’s large hands came up, cautiously hovering around my back. “May I?”

I nodded, maybe a little too eagerly. One hand alone unclasped the 3 hooks in the back and the padded material fell to my lap. My exposed nipples harden immediately at the touch of the cool air.

A small breath escaped my lungs as I was now topless in front of the eldest vampire.

He’s a doctor, Bella. There’s no other reason for him to be doing this. But here, half exposed in front of him just felt so right… even if it wasn’t.

The large man slowly dropped to his knees. I shifted uncomfortably on the table as his fingertips softly grazed the underside of my right breast, examining the small gash underneath.

My skin blazed with a trail of passion where he touched me as he lightly circled the wound with his pointer finger. His other large hand came up to rest on my hip.

“Hmm… doesn’t look too deep.” He almost whispered, yellow eyes peering up at me from his kneeling position on the ground.

His honey eyes dropped from my gaze, right down to my breasts as if he were taking in every detail. The vampire’s throat bobbed as he gulped before swiftly standing up and breaking eye contact with my exposed bosom.

It didn’t take long for me to notice the peculiar sight in front of me. The growing tent in his trousers, an ironically human feature, was quite eye-catching.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said quickly as to avoid any awkward silences. I nodded as he returned to his kneeling position.

“I hear things didn’t work out between you and Edward.” He diverted, grabbing a warm, damp cloth to gently swipe it over the torn area of skin. The motion stung the wound and I found myself biting my bottom lip to keep from hissing out. Carlisle continued to steadily sterilize the wound.

“Edward’s a good guy,” I say, not daring to move my eyes as I studied his every move. “It’s just better this way.”

He raises his eyebrow as his free hand digs into my hip. “Well what else would you need from a man?”

I scoff at him, only taking my eyes off of him to roll them sarcastically. “Uhh, I think there’s a lot more on my checklist than just being a nice person.”

Carlisle chuckled as if he found amusement from my discomfort. “I can understand that,” He said, grabbing a bandage and ripping the paper cover on it. He strategically placed it over the gash. “Besides, I’m not one to talk about relationships with the state my marriage is in.”

My eyebrows knitted together in confusion as he rose to his feet once again. “What do you mean?” I ask him, to which a solemn smirk spread across his lips.

“I think you know, Bella.”

Why would I know? If I knew then I wouldn't ask…

Sensing the confusion still displayed on my features, Carlisle sighs. “My wife is many things, but she is not clueless.” He stated, inching toward me agonizingly slowly.

“She’s not dumb.” He moves his body closer to mine until the tent in his pants pushed against my clothed core, achingly.

He leaned down, so close. His face was inches from mine. “She knows that something…someone… has been on my mind… and I just can’t seem to get them out.” He whispered. I could smell the fresh mintiness of his breath as he dipped in ever so slowly, planting a sweet kiss on my lips.

The embrace was warm and slow at first. Our lips moved in perfect synchronization. I could feel the cravings deep within my soul being satisfied as his tongue darted out to deepen the kiss.

I could feel his icy hands making their way to the hem of my pants, fingers dancing around the edge. His two digits dipped down below the fabric of my pants and panties, making immediate contact with my aching heat, a significant contrast to the chill of his skin.

Carlisle seemed to swallow my soft moans as he slowly rubbed me from inside my clothes.

A wince left my vacant mouth as the vampire pulled away, trailing his mouth down my neck and collarbones, right to my breasts.

He took one in his mouth right away, working his tongue around the pebbled skin as he kneaded the other with his free hand.

Ecstasy overcame my body as more pleasure was being delivered to me than I thought was humanly possible.

Better than Edward for sure.

Carlisle removed his mouth from my chest, trailing his sloppy kisses down my stomach. Removing his hands from my arousal, he swiftly yanked my pants and panties down in one go, returning to his knees for the third time tonight.

My knees were propped up, resting on the older man’s muscular shoulders. His face was so close to my entrance; I could feel his breath fanning on my glistening folds as he eyed me carefully. His tongue darted out, licking a stripe up my blazing heat. I almost cried out in agony, barely stopping to remember that there were vampires and a werewolf outside with advanced hearing.

Carlisle chuckled against my swollen core, sending vibrations swirling around my body in the most delicious way as his mouth began to attack my tender flesh.

His tongue expertly lapped at my clit and I struggled to contain the sounds that were persistently spilling from my lips. The tension burned deep within my stomach as I tensed up, never wanting this feeling to stop.

Carlisle’s face was buried between my legs as my heat began to spasm, becoming overridden with pleasure. One hand tangled in Carlisle’s straight, blond hair as the other came up to clamp my mouth shut while I road out my high, Carlisle’s tongue eagerly lapping at the liquid that oozed out of me.

His mouth finished cleaning me off as I lay on the flat surface, chest still heaving.

I shot straight up as a sturdy knock sounded at the door. “What’s taking so long in there?” Jake yelled through the wooden barrier. Carlisle handed me my clothes and I swiftly slipped them on just in time before Jacob barged through.

I was fully aware of the blush on my face, the redness of my lips.

“She’ll be fine. Nothing major.” Carlisle said, glancing at me, before exiting the room we committed those acts in just moments ago.

What the hell just happened?

#team carlisle #carlisle cullen #twilight #twilight carlisle #twilight characters #jacob black #twilight jacob #twilight jasper #twilight bella #bella x carlisle #esme cullen #vampire #werwolf #vampire x human #dr. carlisle #alice cullen #twilight alice

[why-its-kai]

I only say this with the best intentions but have you considered staying on a mental health facility for a while? It can really help get you back on your feet and have some sense of schedule and organization in your life for a bit. Plus medication and therapy.. Sometimes we need a more aggressive intervention on our lives y'know? And that's also fine..

respectfully my worst fear is to be institutionalized so a mental health facility sounds utterly terrifying. completely disruptive of my life and routine. changes. control imposed over me. lack of privacy. out of my personal space and somewhere unfamiliar. who will take care of my cat. etc. etc. etc. no thank you.

i am on medication, i do see a therapist weekly, i am SUPPOSED to be getting services to help me find employment but having a pisspoor experience with even communicating with them so that's been frustrating bc i WANT TO FUCKING WORK BUT I NEED HELP, but my neighbors at this apartment have become increasingly loud/pot smelling the building its sensory hell and that's chipping away at me on top of the everything else thats stressing me out, and ofc it's december/winter so my mental state is in total disarray regardless lmao. anyways therapist is helping me work on shit it's just i come here to complain and whine bc ive got no one irl around daily to unload this. i can't keep it bottled inside or i spiral more and more like i gottta yell in the void sometimes about how its annoying how my brain works and strugglings annoying and idk. i am getting help even tho it seems like i am not and just falling apart as a total disaster wreck trash fire who needs to be institutionalized i guess idk XD im sure you came here with good intention anon but like. i'm sorry that's literally something i'm terrified of. i already feel like i'm not in control of my life last thing i want is to lose that last bit of it by getting put away regardless of if i willingly went or sent forcibly lol

#anon

[thepragmaticwarlock]

I know some people are staunch Osiris lovers and I keep seeing posts about how stupid ppl are for getting annoyed at Osiris and not seeing that his bad attitude are forms of grief and urgency.

Like yes I understood why Bungie wrote him the way they did- I get that it’s supposed to be a manifestation of his grief and feelings of losing his light.

I also feel like they also used his character to try and add urgency into the campaign which overall imo there was no sense of urgency. Despite what we saw in the opening cutscene the story felt like a meandering romp through a new and fun city. Not exactly the last ditch effort to stop the Witness in his tracks. Osiris definitely tried to make us feel that and it obviously didn’t click with a lot of people.

I also don’t think it’s Osiris yelling and being an ass that specifically annoyed a lot of people. I was legitimately getting angry at Osiris and his treatment of our Guardian. Frankly on a personal level idc what someone is going through I don’t want to be talked to that way - most people don’t. So when a rpg game has a character talking to the player like that is often feels personal because of the nature of rpgs. Hence why his behavior annoyed so many players. There’s also a major lack of resolution between Osiris and our Guardian. Osiris gets resolution with Nimbus where the two understand each other better by the end but our Guardian doesn’t get that. Often in Destiny when NPCs treat each other poorly there is some resolution to it or acknowledgement of it in the story - eg Crow and Saladin, Caitl and Zavala. When characters interact there is usually a resolution to conflicts between them.

As a player character we don’t get that. Which is why is feels extremely off putting to have Osiris kinda being a raging dick for most of the DLC to transitioning to our patient, wise mentor in our training montage. When he wasn’t acting like that just a few missions before. And then he gets some great scenes with Nimbus and him delving deeper into their grief. And of course that gives us as the player context to his behavior BUT it doesn’t resolve his treatment of our Guardian and his behavior towards them on a character to character based interaction. Part of this is of course Bungies dislike of assigning any emotion, consequence, character arc to our Guardian. So things don’t really happen to the Guardian, things more happen around the Guardian and the Guardian is simply there. But that’s an entire other issue that at least in this DLC Bungie put some work towards fleshing the Guardian out besides empty void that you run around killing things as and dress up. (at least we got voice lines)

So ya of course many players are annoyed at Osiris. People irl that act like that can be grating and frustrating to interact with esp in stressful high stake situations. Bringing a character like that into the realm of fiction doesn’t mean people will automatically be able to ignore his flaws and understand he’s just going through extreme grief. Coupled with any form of resolution between him and our guardian. I personally found Osiris annoying af in this DLC. I get why - and I think he did need to be written like that BUT I also would have a very different opinion if we even got a convo between Ghost and Osiris where he not necessarily apologizes but at least directly addresses his grief to the Guardian. (Which I’m sure there were some throw away voicelines where this does happen but nothing memorable). I also am still going to be annoyed at Osiris even though I understand why he was the way he was during this DLC. Like it’s okay to dislike a character.

#lightfall spoilers #destiny the game #d2 #Destiny 2 #destiny 2 lightfall #lightfall #d2 lightfall #if I see one more post that’s like Osiris was just grieving and you’re all stupid for not liking him over it and lack critical thinking #ppl are allowed to not like a character #I fucking get his canon personality is already like that and the grief thing exacerbated everything #but guess what I still don’t like hiiimmmm #also idk maybe it’a pretty natural for ppl to dislike NPC that talk to the player character the way Osiris has #like players tend to take us personally when a NPC talks like that it’s just the nature of an RPG game #bc shocker ppl don’t like being talked to like that IRL and it being fiction doesn’t mean it’ll annoy ppl less #idk this is a ramble/rant #Osiris is fine as a character #he’s an important part of the game #just not my cup of tea as a character #and he did legit piss me off during the DLC #I for sure like him less leaving the DLC then I did before the DLC #is that bad writing? is it me being stupid? #no it’s just me not liking a character