#knives could also speak in any other languages. like what if he gets mad and decides to talk to the gung ho guns in idk finnish instead | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

creoterative · 2 years

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Incorrect Pokémon Quotes

Hello, I’m back with some Incorrect Quotes of Paul, Reggie and Maylene. I love them and they deserve some more fan content, soooo, here it goes!

Warnings: A lot of swearing

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*Reggie and Paul are doing something absurdly dangerous* Reggie: I think Houdini did something like this once! Why, if I recall correctly, he was out of the hospital in no time! Paul, deadpan: Well that's encouraging.

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Reggie: Hey, it's your turn to wash dishes. Paul: I'LL WASH THE WALLS RED WITH YOUR BLOOD. Reggie: 'Kay, but before that, wash the dishes, also use soap this time?

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Reggie: This is such a bad idea. Paul: Then why are you coming along? Reggie: One of us need to be able to talk the cops out of arresting us when this inevitably goes wrong.

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Reggie: Jail is no fun. I’ll tell you that much. Paul: Oh, you’ve been? Reggie: Once. In Monopoly.

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Paul: What the fuck is wrong with you?! Reggie: Wow, you could start with a 'good morning'. Paul: Good morning. What the fuck is wrong with you?!

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Reggie: English is a difficult language. It can be understood through tough thorough thought, though. Paul: You need to stop.

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Reggie: Paul, stop! This isn't you, you've gone mad with power! Paul: Well of course I have. Paul: Have you ever tried going mad without power? Paul: It's boring.

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Reggie: Pick a card, any card. Paul: Fine. Reggie: Wait, that's my credit card! Paul: You said any card.

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Paul: I feel like I have died and gone to heaven. Reggie: I have that dream, too, but you go in the other direction.

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Reggie: Oooh, a train! Paul: We’re in a train station, Reggie

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Reggie: Paul, what is the ONE thing I asked you NOT to do tonight? Paul: Raise the dead. Reggie: And what did you do? Paul: Raise the dead.

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Paul: I desire moisture. Reggie: Please just say "I want water" like a normal person.

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Paul: What goes up but never comes down? Reggie: The amount of stress you're bringing this family.

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Reggie: Why aren’t you sleeping? Paul: I’m too busy plotting your murder to sleep, Reggie. Reggie: Paul: ...The nightmares. Reggie: *wrapping his arms around Paul* Awwww, my fluffy bro-

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Reggie: Are you mad? Paul: No. Reggie: So sharpening your knives at 3 in the morning is just a hobby?

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Paul: My only talent is being stress. Reggie: Don't you mean stressed? Paul: No.

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Paul: Punch me in the face. Reggie: ...Punch you? Paul: Yes, punch me, didn’t you hear me? Reggie: I always hear ‘punch me in the face’ while you’re speaking but it’s usually just subtext.

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Paul: How do tall people possibly sleep at night when the blanket can't possibly cover you? Reggie: Paul, it's four o'clock in the morning. Paul: So, you can't sleep, huh? Is it because of the blanket?

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Paul: Hey. Reggie: Hey? Paul: I can't sleep. :/ Reggie: I can. Goodnight.

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Reggie: Fight me! Paul, standing behind him and holding a knife: *mouths* Do not.

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Reggie: We need a plan to beat them. Paul: Okay, listen up. First, we fill their shoes with wet cat food. Reggie: Paul: Judge me all you want, I get results.

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Paul: Why are you drinking? Reggie: I drink when I'm depressed. Paul: But you're always drinking? Reggie: *smug grin*

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Reggie: They say that the most valuable things cost nothing. Paul: They also say that being cheap is an annoying trait, so don’t overuse that excuse.

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Paul: You’re charged with…..breaking into a pet store? Reggie: I thought the animals might be lonely.

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Paul: How does that even work? Reggie, mocking him: hOw dO yOu UsE a cOmPUteR aNd KnOw wHaTS GoiNg oN iT DoEsNt mAke SeNSe?! Paul: Your face doesnt make sense.

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Reggie: Are you reading fan fiction? Paul, reading an article about extremely rare diseases: Wh- No. Reggie: Oh, is it on AO3? Paul: This is CNN.

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Reggie: If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're impressed. Paul: But you do know better.

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Paul: Do you take constructive criticism? Reggie: Not without crying

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Paul, at Reggie's funeral: I need a moment with him. Everyone: Of course. *They leave* Paul, leaning over Reggie′s coffin: Okay, listen here you little shit. I know you’re not dead. Reggie: Yeah, no shit.

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Paul: Please say words of encouragement to me so I don’t murder someone right now. Reggie: There are no books in prison. Paul: *sighs* Thank you.

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Paul: A decision had to be made. Reggie: And you fucked it up!

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Paul: *coughs blood* Reggie: Don't die, Paul! Paul: Don't tell me what to do!

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Reggie: *dangling from a rope over a pit of fire* Remember when I said I’d tell you when we’re in too deep? Paul: Yes? Reggie: We’re in too deep.

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Reggie: Who hurt you? Paul: *snorting* What, do you want a list? Reggie: ...Yes, actually.

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Paul: *raises eyebrows* Reggie: Put those back down!

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Paul: I'll offer you some friendly advice- Reggie: I don't want your advice. Paul: Well, then consider it unfriendly advice.

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Reggie: Paul! Have you no dignity? Paul: Of course not! How long have we known eachother?

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Reggie: I am a responsible adult! Paul: *raises brow* Reggie: I am an adult.

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Reggie: Just so everyone knows, don't ever try to climb a tree at night carrying a strobe light, Rowlets DON'T like it. Paul: ...what happened? Reggie: I made a VERY bad mistake.

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Paul: Can I bother you for a second? Reggie: You're always bothering me, but go ahead.

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Paul: You know what I’ve realized? Reggie: Some thoughts are better left unsaid? Paul: Nice try, anyways-

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Reggie: You remind me of the ocean. Paul: Because I'm deep and mysterious? Reggie: No, because you're full of salt and you scare people.

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Reggie: I need a long word. Paul: T-rex but the long one.

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Reggie: Do you know the ABCs of first aid? Paul: A. Bone. Coming out of the skin is very bad.

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*Reggie and Paul skipping stones on lake* Reggie: It’s such a beautiful evening. Paul, whispering: Take that you fucking lake

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Reggie: Is the pink panther a lion? Paul: Say that again but slower. Reggie: I don’t get it. Paul: He’s a PANTHER. Reggie: Is that a type of lion? Paul: No, it’s a fucking panther. Reggie: *googles panther* They aren’t pink? Paul: AND LIONS ARE?!

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Paul: Wait you like me? For my personality? Reggie: I know, I was surprised too.

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Reggie: If I die, you can have what little I own. Paul: Wait. What do you mean "if" you die? Reggie: My unending existence is fuelled by pure spite, that of which the painful experiences of life have rendered me full. Paul: Paul: *Sighs* Let me call your therapist again.

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Reggie: Be careful about succumbing to these sorts of destructive... urges. Addiction can be a powerful thing. Paul: So am I. Bow down before your new supreme overlord, bitches.

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Reggie: I actually have a black belt. Paul: In what, karate? Reggie: No, from Gucci.

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Paul, holding a kettle: Coffee or tea? Reggie: Tea. Paul: Wrong. It's coffee.

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Paul: Look, Reggie, it's the third time this week you had a mental breakdown and its Monday.

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Reggie: Could you be anymore annoying? Paul: Yes.

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Paul: Evil never sleeps! Reggie: But ugly gets plenty of rest.

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Paul: You need to be more careful. Reggie, who was dragged into Paul's issue: Careful? CAREFUL?! I'LL CAREFULLY WRAP MY HANDS AROUND YOUR THROAT-

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Reggie: Do you need help getting up? Paul: Nah, I'm cool down here on the floor.

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Paul: Why does my arm shake and turn bright red when I’m eating dirt? Reggie: Reggie: Why are you eating dirt? Paul: Did I ask you if I should eat dirt? No, so answer my question.

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Paul, entering the room: *Sees Reggie and leaves* Reggie, watching Paul leave: There’s my monthly dose of Paul…

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*While planning to break in somewhere* Reggie: Hey, let's do "Get Help!" Paul: What? Reggie: "Get Help." Paul: No. Reggie: C'mon, you love it! Paul: I hate it. Reggie: It's great! It works every time! Paul: It's humiliating. Reggie: Do you have a better plan? Paul: No. Reggie: We're doing it! Paul: We are not doing "Get Help!" *A Minute Later* Reggie, carrying Paul: Get help! Please! He's dying! Help him! *throws Paul at guards, knocking them out* Reggie: Ahh, classic! Paul: *gets up* I still hate it. It's humiliating. Reggie, laughing: Not for me, it's not.

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Reggie: Paul, what are you doing? Paul: *shaking a cat shaped piggy bank* I’m just trying to figure out how much change I have inside. Reggie: You could always take it out and count it. Paul: Where’s the fun in that?

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Reggie: What the hell were you thinking? Paul: I heard releasing birds at a wedding is romantic! Reggie: You released OSTRICHES!

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Reggie: Can we go to a haunted house? Paul: What’s wrong with the one we live in? Reggie: Wh-what? Paul: Goodnight, Reggie.

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Reggie: Question. When they shot Bambi's mother, did you find that a sad moment...at all? Paul: I'm sure she's mounted on a nice wall in a fine home somewhere.

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Reggie: You think you're smarter than everyone else. Paul: I don't think I'm smarter than everyone else. I know I am.

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Reggie: I sort of did something and I need some advice, but I don't want a lot of judgment and criticism. Paul: And you came to me?

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Paul: *Kicks the door open, looking panicked* Reggie: What did you do?! Paul: NOBODY DIED! Reggie: WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT?!

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Paul: *sharpens knife* We've got ways of making people talk. Paul: *cuts piece of cake* Reggie: ...Can I have some? Paul: Cake is for talkers.

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Paul: *slams books down in front of Reggie* Paul: Boil up some Mountain Dew. It’s gonna be a long night. Reggie: You could of said literally anything else. Paul: Cauldron boil and cauldron bubble, Baja Blast to fuel my trouble. Reggie: I’m going to just stop challenging you when you say random shit. I won’t win. I realize this now.

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Paul: When I get murdered, can you make sure I become an unsolved case? Reggie: wHat? Paul: I want to be on Buzzfeed Unsolved. Reggie: Can we go back to the part when you said "when I get murdered"?

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Reggie: *talking about Maylene’s funeral* You do know we’re burying a great person today! Paul, shocked: Did someone else die?

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Paul: *looks at Reggie* Paul: Cinnamon roll of a brother. Important. Must protect. Paul: *looks at Maylene* Paul: Evil.

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Paul: Are you the big spoon or the little spoon? Maylene: I'm a knife. Reggie, from across the room: She's the little spoon.

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Maylene: I hope you have an explanation for this. Paul: We have three actually- Reggie: Pick your favorite.

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Reggie: Paul... Paul: I can tell by the tone of your voice that you are disappointed. Alas, I must further disappoint you by affirming how little I give a fuck.

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Reggie: Paul, remember when you said you weren’t going to interfere with my love life? Paul: No, that doesn’t sound like me at all.

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Reggie: Honestly, I am so evil. So full of darkness. I feed of the souls of the living I strike fear into- Paul: You sleep with a teddybear. Reggie: He’s my sECOND IN COMMAND IN MY ARMY OF DARKNESS!

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Paul, looking at his reflection: Now, that's rubbish. Who's that supposed to be? Reggie: Well, that's you. Paul: Me?! Is that what I look like? Reggie: You don't know? Paul: Busy day.

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Paul: You are the best older brother and I would do anything within reason to make you happy. Reggie: I would be happy if you ate, stayed hydrated and got a reasonable amount of sleep. Paul: I said within reason, Reggie. How about I murder that guy? Reggie: So murder is in reason but proper self care isn't? Paul: Well, duh. What kind of question is that?

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Reggie: Happy October 32nd! Second Halloween! Paul: That doesn't exist. Reggie: Not with that attitude.

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Reggie: The Ocean is a soup. Paul: Paul: Do elaborate. Reggie: What are needed for something to be a soup? Paul: Erm... Water, salt, some form of vegetation, and personally I prefer some meat in mine. Reggie: *Tilts head* Paul: The Ocean is a Soup. Reggie: The Ocean is a Soup.

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Reggie: What is the one thing I told you not to do? Paul: Burn the house down. Reggie: And what did you do? Paul: I made dinner. Reggie: Paul: Reggie: Paul: And burnt the house down.

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Reggie: That's not funny. Paul: I thought it was funny. Reggie: You don't count. You started laughing in the middle of a funeral because you started thinking of a meme you saw on Facebook.

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Reggie: You’re jealous. Paul: Jealous? Reggie: That’s why you were being so negative about this. Paul: That’s absurd. I’m always negative.

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Paul: Do you want some tea? Reggie: What are the options? Paul: Yes or no.

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Reggie, holding in their laughter: Hey, how do you ask a glass of water what it’s doing? Paul: A glass of water is an inanimate object. Therefore, it's incapable of having a thought process or understanding basic human language. Reggie: Reggie: Water you doing?

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Paul: Reggie, I need some advice. Reggie: You need advice from ME? Paul: Yeah, frightening, isn't it?

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Reggie: WHOEVER CAUSED THIS MESS IS GOING TO- Paul: It was me... Reggie: ...Is going to be forgiven because everyone deserves a second chance.

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Paul: You spent all our money on THIS?? Reggie, putting tiny raincoats on psyducks: They live outside. They need this.

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Reggie: Are you tall enough to play basketball though? Paul: Are you calling me short? Reggie: I'm calling you vertically challenged.

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Reggie: You know, Paul, when you generalize, you tell general... lies. Paul: ... Paul: Are you trying to teach me moral lessons through puns.

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Reggie: Hey Paul? Paul: Yeah? Reggie: What's your favorite color of the alphabet? True or false? Paul: Paul: ...What.

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Paul: Vegetable oil is made from vegetables, coconut oil is made from coconuts, so BABY OIL- Reggie: CAN'T WE JUST HAVE A NICE FAMILY DINNER FOR ONCE?!

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Paul: Do you know a torterra’s only weakness? Reggie: No... well, their slowness. Paul: Their weaknesss is they can't roll over when they are on their backs. Paul: Now I have a plan. Paul: If I duct tape two torterras together, they'll be unstoppable.

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Reggie: Someone’s trying to break in. Call the cops! Paul: *loads shotgun* I got this. Reggie: Last week you fell up the stairs, what do you mean-

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Paul: I wish I could control wasps and bees to sting my enemies. Reggie: You’re too young to have enemies. Paul: You don’t even know.

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Paul: Did you like the food I made? Reggie: No, not really. Paul: But I put my heart and soul into it! Reggie: No wonder it tastes so cold and dead.

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Reggie: When's the last time you slept? Paul: Uh... a few days ago, I think. Reggie: A few- how many?! Paul: Uh... *starts counting on fingers* I need more fingers... Reggie: What you need is sleep!

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Paul: That’s the longest worm I’ve ever seen. Reggie: That’s an Ekans.

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Reggie, texting: Answer your phone Paul, texting back: Wait a minute, I can’t find my phone Reggie: Understood Reggie, 5 minutes later: You’re a terrible person. You know you’re killing me. You’re killing me, Paul.

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Reggie: I left instructions for everyone while I'm gone. Paul: Mine just says "Paul no." Reggie: I want you to apply it to every possible situation.

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Reggie: ...My brother Paul just killed a Goldeen. Paul: *licking his lips* Yup. Delicious.

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Reggie: You are, of course, wondering why it is I have brought you here tonight. Paul: Actually, Reggie, after all these years, I just sort of go with it.

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Reggie: Wow, great work on the Halloween decorations. Where did you get the fake skeletons? Paul: Fake?

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Reggie: Why are you like this?? Paul: I used too much "No More Tears" shampoo as a kid and I haven't felt a single emotion since.

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Reggie: Hey, are you okay? Paul: Yeah. Reggie: You don't look okay... Paul: Then stop looking.

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Paul: State your name, rank, and intention. Reggie: Reggie, Reggie, fun.

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Reggie: I am going to need you to swear- Paul: Fuck. Reggie: Reggie: ...swear as in promise.

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Paul: And then they ran into my knife. They ran into my knife ten times. Reggie: You mean you stabbed them? Paul: They ran into my knife.

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Reggie: *fast-forwards all the way through the movie* Paul: You can't just skip to the happy ending! Reggie: I don't have time for their problems.

#pokemon incorrect quotes #pokemon paul #pokemon reggie #Tobari Brothers #Pokemon Diamond And Pearl #pokemon maylene

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halfbakedspuds · 2 months

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Excerpt from today's writing. First sign of the kind of legend Adrian has built to serve his purposes: the source of the whole "The man who can topple an empire with but a whisper," thing. Also the first little snippet of why Adrian and Lyanni stick together despite constantly wanting to kill eachother is in here if you can spot it.

"I still struggle to understand why you're all so afraid of him," Lyanni said. She was immediately greeted with gasps from the stationed soldiers, and looks of what bordered on unspoken accusations of heresy.

Been here before, haven't I?

"Oh come on now, take it from the lady who lives with him," She said, "Yman'ye or not, he's just a man. I fear my own knives more than I fear him,"

Two of the soldiers shared a glance, nodding, then the captain removed her helmet to speak.

"Have you heard of how the Tezir province was incorporated into the kingdom?" The guard asked. Taking Lyanni's look of confusion as a negative, the guard grimaced, then continued, "I was assigned as part of Adrian's escort, along with five other soldiers. We were meant to try talk down tensions in a rival kingdom, sate the tirades of a mad tyrant who was seeing red. Adrian tried civility, gods know he did. He endured threats against Alahn and the state, even the occasional beating when the Tezir king felt especially bored, and not once did he raise his hand in self-defense," The guard looked at her, "I take it you've seen him in battle. If he wanted to, he could've wiped out their entire capital without our help. Yet he endured in silence,"

Lyanni was listening intently now. The Adrian she knew was apt to do strange things, but she'd also known him long enough to understand that he had a reason for everything. She motioned for the guard to continue.

"Then, one day on a whim, their king chose to liven up the day's ceaseless negotiations by ordering one of us beaten for a change, by the Captain-General of his military of all people. The condemned was a rookie, one Ejir Llau, his first ever deployment for the crown. He'd seen what had been done to the angel, and although I could practically smell his fear, he stood bravely," The guard captain leant back against the wall, armor creeking under it's own weight and the weight of memory, "Adrian took one look at their king, and in his eyes I saw a fury unlike anything I had ever seen before. I still remember his words: Do to me as you will, but if even a scale on any of them is damaged by your decree, I will erase everything you and your ancestors have built with but a whisper,"

Adrian's characteristic flair for the dramatic informed Lyanni that the story was likely true. She motioned for the guard to continue

"The king laughed at him. Gods, that sound still haunts my nightmares. Called his words an 'amusing bluff', and simply ordered the beating to continue. Ejir stood steadfast and brave as the club whistled down towards him, and I had to fight every instinct telling me to protect my own lest I risk a diplomatic incident," Her grip tightened on the spear, "I barely even blinked before the Yman'ye had traversed the throne room and caught the club. Eyes still burning with a rage I don't think any mortal has ever had nor survived the misfortune of knowing, he leant down, and whispered something into the captain-general's ear,"

"What did he say?" Lyanni asked tentatively.

The guard shrugged, jostling the immense bulk of her armor as she did, "Noone knows. Ejir stood right beside him and even he doesn't know. All I remember is the captain general paling, then yelling something in his people's language, and before I knew it: the mad king sat dying, pinned to his throne: one sword through his chest for ever Tezira Soldier present while the captain general practically begged our dear Angel to incorporate Tezir as a territory of Axidem," The guard captain leant forward in an exaggerated fashion, the only way she could get herself back upright with all the metal weighing her down, "We do not fear Vitaam's angel nearly as much as we respect him, but noone dares tempt our fate for no-one understands how such a being thinks,"

You sure as all gods got that right, Lyanni thought with a suppressed frown, I have a hard time even telling his mood, let alone his thoughts.

"All except you, it would seem,"

Lyanni almost stammered, then stopped to collect herself before answerring in a tone that suggested passing curiosity, "How so?"

"The angel has taken a liking of a sorts to you. He permits questionings and actions from you that noone else would have dared to attempt, and if you don't mind me saying this, he brought you up from a mere slave to one of the most influential and revered people in the kingdom,"

Lyanni took a moment to consider this. It was true: Adrian was softer on her than anyone else save Zeltin. He entertained her odd questions and ramblings, and openly debated with her instead of shutting down lines of thinking he didn't agree with despite clearly being well within his power to do so. Despite the fact that she still had days that she wanted nothing more than to plant a knife is his back, she reluctantly admitted thanks for the rare opportunity he'd afforded an enslaved, disgraced noble who otherwise would've simply died in the mines.

But to say he'd taken a liking to her? Even as no more than a passing curiosity, like a trinket? That seemed to be pushing things a bit far.

"I didn't do shit," Both Lyanni and all the guards instinctively straightened their postures and faced about at the hollow ring of Adrian's voice. As he glided in (Seriously, how does he move so smoothly), he continued, "Lady Sverik has achieved all her successes with me simply playing the bystander," He passed Lyanni, and she took that as a sign that all business had been seen to and even he wasn't welcome in the palace for much longer.

At the door, he paused. Lyanni took three more steps before waiting out of sight: listening in, "Oh, and Djehiru?"

Metallic rattling and a dull clang marked the bulky warrior kneeling.

"Maybe the reason I've taken a liking to her was because she dared,"

#writeblr #writing #fiction #idk how to tag this #ya fiction #sci fi #wip #adrian castellan #lyanni sverik #children of the stars #sorta science fantasy because of the medieval backdrop but no magic and overall the backdrop us very grounded in fact #First little sign of why they get along #Get along relatively well at least

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xfeliciahardyx · 3 years

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Summary: What happened in the bakery changed you. The next few years would force you to harden and build so many walls that you vowed to never let anyone in. You can probably guess what happens when a certain soldier starts to scale those walls so that he can get to you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: mention of blood, intense details about ww2, side character deaths, traumatic backgrounds, mention of Nazis, mentions of broken bones and bullet wounds, children suffering due to the war, imprisonment in a concentration camp, someone does get stabbed, and angst (Warnings will be added as the story continues if need be. This is just for the first chapter!)

Taglist: ~Here~ (Feel free to add yourself to any other categories!)

Word Count: 9k

Author's Note: Okay everyone reading I first want to say thank you for reading my imagine. There are some things that I need to clarify before you start reading this. The entire series will be me going through the Captain America movies. It first starts at The First Avenger and continues through the places in time where Bucky is and where he is not OoOoOoO plot twists. But yes this can be overwhelming to read because some details are VERY graphic. i did use techniques from my medical skills class so all the medical procedures are researched and correct. Please enjoy The Winter Soldier and The White Feather or as I like to call it WSWF

The war was changing you and everyone around you. It was making kind people turn green and bad people even worse. You learned that the hard way of course. When you’d had been taken to the facility you didn’t know what to expect. Now you had been in it for God knows how long and you didn’t know what would happen. You had no way of contacting your family. Of contacting anyone you knew really. You were lost, scared, hoping for a savior that didn’t seem to be appearing. Lost traveling in a fog ridden meadow without any sense of direction. It killed you to see how many people died and suffered at the hands of the Germans, but your screams were of no use. The way they treated everyone was as horrible as a cat chasing a mouse. Like you were the filth on their boots, the scum of the earth. Any time someone said something to them they’d react as if a fire touched their skin and recoil away. They acted as if they didn’t have enough money to feed anyone properly. The food was sure to break several health codes back in the city but that didn’t seem to stop you all from eating it. If it wasn’t stale bread that you could knock someone out with, it was week old soup that had hints of green to it. The water was as piss pore and was a dull gray. Not your best moments or the biggest feast for the holidays but it was for survival. It was meant for you to get on through the day and do as you’re told. The inmates had started to call it the end of the world. You didn’t blame them because it was. That didn’t stop them from constantly complaining about every little thing. You on the other hand couldn’t give a fuck. It was like every single one up and flew away with the happiness that had been your life in France. You couldn’t even speak after the horrors the world and slammed into your life. You avoided everyone and everything that lived, scared and desperate to stay hidden. It was the way to go and others followed your lead. You weren’t one to speak or do anything with another person and the others around you knew it. So, they cleared their distance and you appreciated it. You had never been one to stay quiet for long around people. Eventually you’d try to get to know them. But you had changed just as times had. Even now you knew to keep your cool and to keep up with your manners. At any minute they could kill you. Or they could do something to shatter your already scarred mind. You knew you weren’t like the people who decided to suck up to them. Kissing the floor, they walked on for a little bit of clean water, or a bowl of soup that was freshly made. They were horrible to the suck ups and laughed at them as they did their best to seem appealing. You would never stoop as low to be a person who supported the people who had made this sad reality your life. Despite everything your parents had done to you, you always managed kindness. The girl who was secretly the crush of every guy because of her brains. The kind of girl that went to the library in her free time. The girl who never dated because she claimed she wanted to focus on school but could never know how to talk to guys. Went to the movies with her one friend who she cared about more than anything. The girl who made life positive because her family had always made it negative. Yes, you were over all kind but when you needed to be you could be as sharp as a spear. So, why did they kidnap you? It was simply a case of being at the wrong place in the wrong time. But that didn’t excuse their actions following the moments they walked in that bakery with their rifles held high and their voices screaming in curses. Why did they have to kill one of the most important people in your life right in front of you? Shot her straight through the heart at the bakery around the block from the school. All because she was Jewish. Their logic didn’t explain why they had the right to take her life. Her younger siblings had been complaining about food and you had an extra food stamp to use. You’d despised the stars they had to wear on their chest that prohibited them from having the normal things every person

needs. You all had practically skipped to the bakery in hopes that they’d have chocolate. It was a nice moment thinking that everything was back to normal. She had only been 21 and you 20. That was 3 years ago. Even so long after you could still imagine the events that had occurred. Her blood had splattered all over your polka dotted yellow dress. All she had asked for was food for her siblings. Sure, sweets would have been kind but you were all hungry in general. When the soldiers had come in, they’d been attracted to her star. You should have been on guard more, but you’d been naive to think they wouldn’t harm them. One had grabbed Ciera and pushed himself against her. In her reaction she’d kicked the German away and his comrade shot her. Her siblings that had been clinging to your side as they shot her cried out for their sister as she dropped to the ground. Siblings that had their throats slit as they clung to your arms. You had begged for their lives. They were just two children. You thought they would have a little mercy. You knew you would take care of them for their sister. You tried to explain that Tommy and Cassandra had been hungry, and their sister had been killed right in front of them. The trauma they had suffered was enough for their minds to endure. All of what was happening was enough to make anyone mad. It was necessary that they cry and mourn. But as heartless as they were, they showed no remorse. That two children crying for their dead sister would never and hadn’t stopped the Germans. They’d ripped the children from your hands and pressed their silver knives to their throats killed them. You wanted to fight for them. You loved them like your own siblings. They didn’t deserve the fate that had been handed to them. The third soldier had held your arms behind your back to stop you from tearing them away. You had tried to fight him, but you knew he wouldn’t let go. You watched the blood slip from their throats, and you sagged against the soldier. He had been the kinder of the three. A recruit perhaps. You didn’t realize until later that he’d held you in his embrace throughout the car ride to the place where you’d be transported. The screams that left their mouths still haunted you and you saw their terrified faces in your dreams. Sometimes they would come together as a group. Other times Tommy would visit you with blood seeping from his throat asking you for his sisters. You blamed yourself for not fighting hard enough. You watched as the life left your eyes when you knew it should have been you. You should have been dead on the ground with them as they lay dead next to their sister on the ground. Yes, life was unfair. But if life was unfair than war was no comparison.

“Gurl!” A German soldier yells pointing his finger to a spot in front of him. Most of them could barely speak English and when they did it was so slurred. Half the times you had to watch their hand motions to understand what they wanted. His eyes are locked on you from your spot by the back of the courtyard. It was a quiet place that everyone avoided because of the sun that would beam on you. They preferred the shade, but you just needed the quiet heat to cleanse your mind. You cursed and grabbed onto the chain fence behind you to lift yourself up. It bent with your weight but you knew it wouldn’t break. It was a trashy fence that if you tried to climb, you’d either be shot down or just get so scratched that you’d just end up doing more harm than good. The fence traveled around the vast courtyard that was rundown and brown. The fence had rust in certain spots from when it rained but it never did anything for the concrete. Blood stains covered the floor from where prisoners had been shot and dragged away. There were splatters and puddles all over the already dirty floor. Even on the ground leading into your cells you’d find the lengthened blood beneath your feet. The courtyard was the only time you got to see the outside world. They also had a calendar on the wall that told you what day it was. You weren’t sure why but maybe it was to bring down the spirits of everyone. You on the other hand had been there for 3 years 2 months and 25 days. Since the beginning of the German’s invasion of France. It was made up of mock punching bags filled with paper plates and hard pillows that no dared to sleep on. People sat in cliques all around speaking in different languages. Most of them spoke French and in your time there you’d picked up bits of other languages. Nothing too major but just enough to understand.

“Ve dount ave foreevare vittle gurl.” He yelled again and you picked up your pace. You didn’t want to do anything to cause any more attention to yourself. His accent sent prickles of fear up your spine and the hairs on your arms stood on end. As you walked by a few whispers drafted into your ears and people glanced away. Being called over by a soldier wasn’t a good thing and people avoided it as much as they could. There was always the possibility of someone getting shot or having to do something you weren’t mentally or physically prepared to do. So, the terror that was filling up your mind with endless possibilities wasn’t a fun thing. Anxiety tightened the space in your chest and your throat was constricted with worry. You stopped a few steps in front of the soldier who towered over you and said nothing as his eyes trailed over your body. Once upon a time you would have blushed and shifted awkwardly where you stood but now you stand still and stare straight at the wall behind the soldier to avoid eye contact. The mic on his shoulder beeps and he holds out a finger to you. You don’t respond and continue to stare straight ahead. He responds to the German voice in his native language rapidly and you fiddle with your hands behind your back. You could feel the tension rising around the two of you and it wasn’t good. His eyes had begun to harden more, and his posture grew rigid. His eyes darted around the dirt filled courtyard until he turned around and stared at a man. He had been beat up. On his eye was a purplish hue with hints of green. You saw a small limp in his walk as you turned your head in his direction. He stopped and leaned against the fence with his arms crossed a pair of tags dangling around his neck. The green Henley he wore was matted and had spatters of dried blood. His pants hung off his body, still fitting but with tears. Looking from the outside in he looked just as bad as every other prisoner of war. He had an unreadable expression as he surveyed his surroundings. You caught a small calculating look in his eyes as he scanned people that walked by. His eyes caught yours and your breath caught in your throat. He didn’t just stare at you from afar. He seemed to bare your soul out in front of everyone to see. His gaze was intense, and a hint of curiosity was in his dark eyes. The soldier beside you muttered something into his radio and your gaze snapped away from the handsome stranger and you turned back at attention. You couldn’t get the image of him out of your mind even as the soldier gave you your new group to follow to your cells. Everyone was given a number when they were placed in the camp. Each cell was alphabetized and most of the time people didn’t even pay attention to them. They did it to give themselves a feel of control. The only one you didn’t follow. You didn’t say anything back to him and when he dismissed you, you promptly walked back to your spot. You didn’t want to turn your head in the direction of the stranger you knew was walking over to you. You wanted to disappear, and you knew the moment he talked to you your tough exterior would break. There was something different about the way his head was held high and his shoulders never slumped. You could practically feel his confidence from across the courtyard and out of your peripheral vision. You slid down the fence with a sigh as you put your head in your knees. You took a few breaths to keep yourself calm as a pair of shoes came into view. They were brown and matted and looked like they’d seen better days.

“You okay?” a voice followed. It was low and soft, but it sent shivers down your spine. You slowly raised your eyes up the body that was wearing them, and your eyes widened in surprise where the man from before stood in front of you. He’s much taller than you initially realized and his eyes a deeper brown. He stares down at you with worry and you just stared at him not knowing what to do. He was around your age and it was rare you found anyone your age and that spoke a language you could speak. Sure, there were people who spoke your language and had tried to talk to you. Soon enough they stopped coming around because staying in a group too long would strike fearing the people because they wouldn’t want the Germans thinking new company meant rebellion. He moved to your side and carefully slid down the steel fence. You stared ahead at the people who stood in the middle of the courtyard.

“So, you people watch.” The stranger says motioning to the people in front of you both. You nod without looking at him keeping a close eye on the people in front of you. Something felt wrong about the gathering. It wasn’t anything good. Someone was shoved across into another person and you heard the stranger suck in a breath. He felt the sudden shift too and he pointed a finger towards a short man in broken glasses. His eyes flipped from each side of the courtyard where the two soldiers stood. His hands were clasped together, and his feet were headed in the direction of the crowd. You nudged your elbow into your newfound companions’ arm tilting your chin up in the direction of the people. The air felt stiff in the courtyard more than normal as the crowd began to step into a circle the short man now joining them. The soldiers seemed to notice it too because their gazes were hardened, and their guns were pointed. Your heart began to pound as you knew what was coming next. It haunted you every night ever since you had seen it the day you’d been kidnapped and taken to this camp. The images of Ciera’s body falling to the ground flashes through your vision and you shake your head, feeling your heart squeeze. The screams of her siblings were in the wind you closed your eyes tight and took in a deep breath. They were screaming out orders in German, but the group paid them no mind. You couldn’t breathe. Your hands rubbed against your rugged jeans completely lost to your nightmares that were coming to life. You opened your eyes slowly and looked around to see if anyone else was witnessing what was going down. A few other small groups of people watched from afar with dead eyes, but none made a move to assist. Your eyes were locked on the German soldier directly across from you that was walking towards the group. With each footstep your breathing became faster and your mind screamed for them to heed the warnings the Germans were giving. The group was large and growing by the minute which in the eyes of your captors was a bigger threat. The German nudged one of the people in the group with his gun and what happened next you had never expected. The stringy thin man with blood hair who had been poked spun around and stabbed the soldier in the neck with a foreign object and someone screamed. His hands went to his throat and he dropped his gun. The man dove for it as the soldier fell slowly bleeding out on the concrete. Everything was chaos as the gun dropped and a single bullet escaped from its chamber. The bullet flew across the courtyard and your eyes flew with it watching it impale a single child.

“No!” you screamed bolting up from your place by the fence. The soldiers burst into action firing down anyone who had been in the huge crowd. Everyone went running towards the inside of the prison, trying to avoid the bullets. It was pure chaos as people from everywhere were getting shot as they tried to escape the rage of the soldiers. There were screams of all different languages and you heard the cry of the mother above all. Her cries for her baby filled your ears as you raced across the courtyard toward the downed child. The man followed you close behind, and you paid him no mind as you shoved through the on rush of people. People were getting into meaningless fights as they tried to get away. A man stops in front of you making a grab for your waist. A hand presses against your chest shoving you back as the stranger jumps in front of you. He throws a hard punch at the man who’d made an attempt touch and he gets knocked to the ground. You grabbed his hand and started running again. The mother’s screams in French guided you through the crowd. You felt your foot hit something before you went flying. Your hands moved out in front of you to stop the fall by instinct and on impact you hissed in pain. You had landed hard on your free hand but was yanked back up just as quickly.

“We have to go.” The man from before whispered in your ear.

“The child needs help.” You whispered back and he didn’t say a word back as he supported you on the remaining distance. The child lay on the ground holding his mother’s hand as she screamed for help. The brown-haired man set you on the floor beside the child and you immediately began ripping your jacket off your arms. You ripped the sleeves off the jacket and used the back to apply pressure to the wound. The single bullet hole was small but on the size of the boy was enough to cause a lot of damage. You quickly felt it become wet with blood and pressed down a little harder as the boy cried out in pain.

“Mon garçon, s'il vous plaît, sauvez mon garçon.”(My boy, Please save my boy) She sobbed as her eyes covered her face. Her hands were covered in his blood and your mind flashed with the memory of your own hands covered in Tommy and Cassandra’s blood. You ignored her cries but that didn’t stop you from helping her. You kept a steady push on his leg to slow the bleeding. After a few checks you eyed the wound and you couldn’t help the feel of triumph that flowed through your heart. The slow of bleeding meant you could check the wound for any other injuries it could have caused. You ripped open his pant leg and wiped the blood away to get a good look at the wound. This wasn’t the first time you’d be a medic and it wouldn’t be the last. Your father had gotten plenty of hunting wounds and you had been the one to take care of them. His leg only held one bullet hole, but his leg was so skinny it could fit in the palm of your hand. Your heart ached that this would be the childhood he remembered and not one filled with days of running in a field with his mother or being in school with his friends. He was one of the lucky ones you had to remind yourself. He was alive and you were determined to keep him that way. Your hands moved with remarkable speed as you lifted the child’s leg and looked for the exit wound of the bullet. A small hole was in the back of his leg and you wiped it clear of blood. You lifted the sleeve from earlier to your teeth and made a big enough tear that you could rip it with your bare hands. The long piece of clothing dangled between your fingertips as you examined the length. From the way the threading looked it wouldn’t hold for long, so you’d have to find a more permanent solution. But that was later and the thin cloth would do good for now.

“How can I help?” The man whispered in your ear again as your mind whirled with adrenaline. Your instincts in healing were helping you move through the steps you’d done so many times before with ease, but you couldn’t help the storm brewing in your feelings. You were enraged, scared, and so many other feelings all at once. You had gotten lost in the moment as you rushed to save the boy that lay before you. People were still running inside, and the screams had begun to slow. The courtyard was filled with sobs of families returning to their loved one’s bodies that lay dead on the floor. The blood on the ground would haunt them for the rest of their lives as the bodies were carried away by the ‘healthy’ prisoners.

“Lift his leg carefully. I need to make a tourniquet to stop the bleeding.” You said softly showing him the places to place his hands. He placed his above and below the wound just as you’d asked and lifted slowly. The boy screamed in pain and the mother began to reach her hands out to stop you. You glared at her, but she ignored your attempts to stop her from distracting you. She was screaming at you in French, begging you to stop hurting her boy. You ignored her cries and curses and continued to work. Her hands were gripping yours now as she tightened them around your wrists, and you struggled to tie the knot.

“Si vous ne retirez pas vos mains, votre fils mourra!” (if you don’t pull your hands away your son will die) you snap back at her in French and her nails stop digging into your skin. She pulls away quickly but doesn’t move her eyes away from your face. You sigh in frustration as you tighten the knot around the boy’s leg. You can hear the boy crying for his maman and she’s trying to calm him but it’s no use. You grab the jacket and place it over the boys wound again and apply pressure. The mother is sobbing as she holds her sons face and you watch knowing that you can only help minimally. You motion for the man to lower his leg softly and he does. He watches you carefully as you wrap the torn jacket around his leg and tie it again in the back. The bleeding has slowed to minimal trickle, but you’ll have to find something to clean the wound to keep away infection. You sigh in relief collapsing on the back of your heels as the woman steps away from her boy and walks over to you. She offers a hand over to you and you stare at it not sure what to do. She smiles weakly and shakes her hand again. You realize she’s trying to get you to stand up and you take it willingly. She helps you stand up and as soon as you’ve got on your feet, she pulls you into a hug.

“You…help…. me Henry.” She whispers in your ear as she pulls away. There’s a new look in her eyes as she apologizes for hurting you in French. She pulls your wrists to her mouth and places small kisses over the crescent moon shaped marks. Her fingers run over them in a silent guilt and you pull away and give her a small smile. Her hand brushes your cheek leaving a trail of blood, but her eyes are locked on yours. She leans in placing a kiss on your cheek before releasing you from her embrace. She quiets quickly once you tell her that it’s alright and that you have something to tell her. You start to give her basic instructions that will keep her son alive. How to clean the wound and tell her the signs of infection. Her hands grip onto her fingers, and her eyes are eager to make sure she doesn’t miss a word. You tell her your cell keep so that if she may ever need your assistance, she can send someone. The man who helped you stands beside you as you give her these instructions nodding as you list off everything. Once you trust that she knows everything you bid her goodbye and tell her to stay safe. She doesn’t respond as she looks away from you down to her son whose hand is out reached for her. She rushes to her knees and grabs his hand and doesn’t give you another glance. You know she won’t leave him alone for a minute. The fear of losing her family wasn’t a good one and it had scarred her heart forever just as it did to you months ago. She would hold on tight to his hands and watch for any signs of sickness. She would not sleep through the night but would tell her boy that she did. She’d do anything to protect her last light in the dark world. Your eyes travel from their joined hands to the boys’ face. It’s pale, most likely from the blood loss but he smiles at you. He opens his mouth to say something, and just as quick as it opens it closes as a grimace of pain flashes over his face. You shake your head giving him a weak smile. You kneel beside his head and place a soft kiss on his sweaty forehead and murmur a good-bye. You give the mother and son a small wave before standing once more and turning on your heel to walk away. Your tail follows you as you make your rounds around the courtyard. People cry out to the two of you as you try your best to help anyone and everyone. Most people have died by the time you reach them, and you close their eyes for the dead to mourn. Some don’t accept that their loved one is dead and continue to scream their fury at your insistence. One man almost attacks you because he refuses to believe his wife was killed and the stranger has to stop him. Tears stream down your cheeks at the sight of each body that lies on the floor. There was so much blood on the court now that it was rare you saw an old patch that was dried. It runs underneath your shoes and covers each piece of cement with ease. It soaks the clothes of the people lying beside their families and friends crying their hearts out to someone who is no longer there. Their pain has become apart of you and you can feel the shock of it numb you by the time you reach the last patient. Your tears have dried up and your hands are covered in so much blood that pieces flake off when the wind blows through the courtyard. You stand beside the teenage girl that holds her arm limp as her companion stands nearby attempting to talk to you in German. You attempt to converse with him in French the only language you’d been able to learn in your months of imprisonment but it’s no use as he doesn’t understand you. The girl cries softly as you touch her arm trying to figure out what was wrong.

“Was ist mit ihr passiert?” (What happened to her?) your partner says in German earning a glance from the boy. He speaks faster now the urgency in his hand motions clear. You can’t help but watch in awe as the man who has been helping this whole time stays remarkably calm. He nods and continues to ask him questions and gives him responses without hesitation. He doesn’t interrupt when it becomes clear that the boy is in full out panic mode. You place your hand on the girls’ shoulder and she flinches away before you give her a small smile. She stared at you with a suspicious glare in her eyes, but you tapped your eyes and then pointed to her shoulder in hopes that she would understand. Her eyes are wide with understanding and she leans in closer to you. You press your fingertip towards the top of her shoulder, and you feel her flinch. Doing this a few more times as you examine her shoulder you realize it doesn’t look like the other. It’s bent at an odd angle and you curse yourself for not realizing sooner.

“Her shoulder is dislocated presumably from being trampled in the panic. I know how to put it back in place, but it’ll be a two person job so I’ll need your help...” you trail off not knowing your assistants name. He glances over his shoulder giving you a smile makes you look down at your hands tat have begun to fidget.

“Call me Bucky.” He winks but you can tell he immediately regrets it because he turns away and starts muttering something under his breath. You catch a small huff of frustration that he cuts off quickly with ‘idiot’ following in English. You chuckle a little and his eyes brighten at your show of emotion towards him. Besides the subtle nudges of worry from before the attack, it was the only one you’d shown. His whole demeanor changed then, and you couldn’t help but feel drawn to the sudden beam of light. He was trying to hide his ear to ear smile as he shifted in place. You shake your head slightly and notice the two people that had been forgotten for a short moment. The man from before is quiet now as the girl talks to him in a soft voice. You motion Bucky over, and he leans down to your level.

“She needs to lie on her back. I’m going to pull it back into place.” Bucky gives you a single nod and begins talking to her in German. She stares at him in confusion but then as he explains it even more, she begins to nod her head in understanding reaching out to her boyfriend for assistance. He grabs her lifted hand and Bucky grabs her waist. Her boyfriend kneels beside her and the two exchange soft words that you don’t attempt to hear. Yes, there were things worse than what she was going through but what you were about to do wasn’t about to be as painless as she’d think. Besides the love that you could see when they looked at each other felt like you were intruding every time they looked at each other. When both men have settled, they both slowly lay her down onto her back, but your eyes don’t miss the flinch she gives once Bucky goes near her and her partner has stepped away. You slightly nudge Bucky out of the way and lightly grab her arm. You can see the gratitude in her eyes, and she tries to grab your hand most likely to thank you in the only way she knew how. You gave her a small nod and remained silent because somethings were better left unsaid. As you go through the steps you tell Bucky what you’re doing and in turn he translates. She doesn’t take her eyes off her partner the entire way as you begin to move her. Her arm is causing her a lot of pain, so your touches are featherlight. She is squeezing his hand and you take a lot of breaks to offer her some relief. Once her arm is outstretched towards you, you place your foot underneath where her shoulder is. You take a deep breath and without warning pull her arm at the same time as you push into her side. A loud pop sounds from her arm and you immediately stop pulling on her arm and let it sit on your lap. A blood curdling scream leaves her mouth and she begins to sob in pain. You can see her body shake as her free hand covers the tears that stream down her face. The three of you aren’t the only ones that heard her of course and a German soldier runs over to you all and starts yelling commands that you don’t understand. The girls companion starts responding to him much quieter than before most likely being careful with what he says. Even with the man explaining the soldier still has his eyes locked on you with a hatred you’d never seen before. It’s as if the soldier doesn’t care that you helped her and that she’d be better off in pain. You glare right back at him without a second thought before he turns his gaze away. He doesn’t respond to the boy before walking back to his post near the corner a few feet away from you. You let a breath you didn’t know you were holding in as he leaves the four of you alone on the courtyard again. You look down at the blonde girl who lies with her hair matted in blood from the concrete. She looks at you with a blank expression on her face that soon turns into gratitude. It’s not the first you’ve gotten but something about the way she put her trust in you makes your heart jump for joy. She lifts her arm into the air slowly but gives you a thumbs up, which in turn makes you laugh a little. She grins at you as you return her thumbs up right back and she looks away reaching out to her lover. He grabs her hands quickly and helps her to her feet. It’s a slow process as she slowly tries to get a handle on her pain tolerance, but eventually she stands up. She holds onto his hands to balance herself and gave her shoulder a roll. She let out a soft laugh in triumph and glanced over to where you and Bucky stood. Her eyes warm with happiness that would only last in the moment but were well deserved. She directed her eyes to Bucky and gave him a small smile as she spoke to him in German. You took the chance to finally look at the man who’d introduced himself to you. Here he was in the middle of a war willing to trust you and take care of all these people and be your assistant and he didn’t even know your name. You could tell by the hard built of his shoulders and the way his jaw tensed was because he was strong. Not in a physical way but in

a mental was as well. He could be one to give support and be just as willing to take it away. He was strong but not with many walls. He was determined but not without conscious. He was a good man. A handsome one at that you think before turning away and blushing. Here this man was helping you as a translator and you were thinking about how strong and physically built he was. You shake your head biting on your bottom lip to avoid the smile that wants to appear on your face.

“What have I got something on my face?” he jokes placing his bloody hands to his mouth. You shake your head but can’t help the small laugh that leaves your mouth. Even as a good guy who’d helped you save 20 people who were either bleeding or needed something fixing, he was a dork. The couple gives you a wave before walking off the courtyard towards the yelling Germans. It was time to go to your designated area. The cell of which you’d have to stay in until mealtime which would be in about an hour. As if on cue your stomach growls extremely loud and you place a hand over it. Usually you could hold your hunger over with some water, but it didn’t seem like there would be anything clean for a little while. The usual stream that came out of a hose was used to clean the victims’ blood away. You turned towards the hose where it had only on clean spot on the concrete. Today had been horrible and you knew there would be more days just like this to come. You still felt the ache for the people you couldn’t save and how their blood was still on your hands. You looked down at the floor and your eyes connected with the blood that covered your shoes. You felt the sudden urge to rinse it off and clean them with bleach, but you knew they would never truly leave. The stains would wash off physically, but it would stay with you forever and trap you in its horrors.

“Don’t let it scar you more than it already will.” He whispered into your ear. You didn’t have the strength for words as the day’s exhaustion hit you. You felt your knees buckle and Bucky’s arm wrapped around your waist quickly, keeping you up. All the adrenaline was dying out and you could barely keep your eyes open as he attempted to have you walk. You couldn’t though and it made your feet hurt 10 times more. You groaned and forced him to stop for a minute. You were blinking rapidly as your vision faded in and out.

“I got you.” He murmured placing an arm under your knees and swooping you into the air. His arms pulled you closer to his chest and you placed a hand on your stomach. You wanted to say thank you, but the words wouldn’t come. You were burnt out of all your energy and your eyes lazily rolled over the man who was walking you across the courtyard. He looked straight ahead, and his gaze sharpened at the people who passed by. It was clear he didn’t trust the people around you. It wasn’t something anyone should ever give out willingly but the thought that he had given you such a fragile thing made your mind whirl with possibilities. You kept staring at him in wonder and you weren’t sure if it was from the lack of food and water, but you felt a sort of friendship growing with Bucky. He made you feel safe and he hadn’t abandoned you as you fell but instead, he’d picked you up. He’d let you work and hadn’t tried to take over either. Your hand gravitated towards his cheek and you held it there. Something about the action felt right and it comforted you. From what you saw it had the same effect on him. He looked down at you with a sincerity in his eyes and a small smile formed on his lips. It warmed your heart that you were able to get that reaction from him after such a long day and you couldn’t stop the smile you returned. He looked up and his gaze sharpened once more but there was something else displayed across his face. It was more lie… astonishment. You turned your head in confusion to see what had made him look such a way and you let out a small gasp. The area around the only source of water wasn’t crowded like it had been when you’d glanced at it. The people had made two lines directly to the water hose. You recognized these people as the ones you’d helped. Men and women who’d lost their loved ones and had found some broken but ready to be helped had stepped aside so that you could get some water.

“No.” you croaked nudging Bucky. You needed them to know you weren’t any special. You weren’t some savior. You’d been able to save them, but you couldn’t save your best friend and her siblings. That their ghosts still haunted you in the depths of the night. You began to squirm in his arms your energy suddenly making its way back into your body. He glanced down at you as you struggled to get down. He lowered your legs and planted them on the floor without a word, but his arm didn’t leave your waist. You were glad because if it weren’t for the support you were sure to fall. You pointed to the hose and Bucky nodded and began walking the two of you towards it. The area was clear as the people watched you from the sides. You could feel your terror rising as you looked to the guards that watched from afar. Your heart was beginning to pound with anxiety. You didn’t want another shoot out. Too many people had died already, and you wouldn’t let any more die. You urged Bucky forward and soon you reached the front to where the boy, Henry stands as his mother washes his wound. He looks up at you and gives you a small wave and begins tapping his mother. She looks up from her action with a look of annoyance, but it vanishes the minute she notices you. Her gaze softens and she smiles urging you forward. You kneeled beside them and murmured a silent hello as Henry proudly held back the torn-up pant leg. He was telling his maman in French about how he would be a strong boy and protect them both from harm. She said nothing but only let a smile and a few laughs through her tough exterior as she let you inspect the wound. There never was a lot of talking in the prison except for the quiet whispers between the terrified families. People weren’t the chatty types when they’d be kidnapped out of their homes and forced away from their families. You shook your head as images of Jews being thrown out into the street and onto a bus in your hometown flashes across your mind. Just like you couldn’t save Ciera and her siblings you couldn’t even save them. But you could save these people. Some part of you hoped that you could help push the everlasting guilt away, but you knew you would always feel that pain. So, you internalized it and turned to the wound on the boys’ leg again. The flesh surrounding the wound looked clean which was already a very good sign. You checked along his leg for any red lines that would travel up. It was a common sign of blood poisoning but seeing as he had none you knew he would be alright for the time being. If there were any of the blood red veins trailing along his pale skin, it would be a sign of infection and with no antibiotics would be the death of him. She pulls the pant leg away from the boy at your request because he dances away from your touch. He giggles because your touch is warm against his cold skin and you smile at her and her boy. Giving her the good news is probably a moment you’ll never forget as she wraps her arm around her son tightly. You can tell from the way she’s beaming at being able to stay with her son for more time means that in some way they’ll get through this together. It makes your heart jump for joy and you can’t help but let the happiness consume you. The mother hands her son to Bucky and he kneels on a rock nearby holding the child. At one point while the mother washes a wound you catch Bucky letting the boy squeeze his cheeks and pull at them every which way. He doesn’t let this stop him from tickling the boy and the sight is so pure that you’re smiling for the rest of the time. More and more patients leave to go towards their cells after you give them direct instructions. They all come to the water and you and the mother wash out their wounds and they walk away. It’s a process that soon you start to do without realizing how many people you’ve helped. Some were far worse than her son with multiple wounds that fill with blood at the touch. It takes a lot to break a person and seeing multiple scrapes and bullet wounds would make anyone sick. After about the 15th person she ran away to throw

up because of the smell of cooking flesh from the sun above. Bucky immediately took her place in helping you clean the wounds. You looked over at the woman in concern but found her son rubbing her back as they sat on the concrete holding each other. You felt for her because this scenario was nothing good or that pleasing to see. Knowing all these people were hurting and that the men who guarded you all watched from afar and refused to help was making you feel 20 shades of green. You wanted to just react at them. To hurt the people who were hurting all these innocents. You despised them and with each wound that began receiving care by your hands the hatred began growing bigger and bigger.

“Neutralize your expression. Showing you’re angry will upset the Nazis even more.” Bucky’s hushed voice interrupted your thoughts. You lift your eyes to meet his as you turn the faucet off and dab at the patient’s jacket to dry his wound. The confusion you felt must have been visible on your face because his eyebrows raise as his head jerks to his right. Your eyes slowly follow the trail to where a German soldier stands with his gun in his hands. His eyes stare directly at your actions as if you were a criminal about to attack.

“They’ve been watching the entire time. Through the cameras in the corners. They have orders to let us be but to shoot if they see anything wrong.” You immediately drop your expression and place a blank look on your face. Bucky’s nod confirms that your expression is fine and you both help the man who’d been stabbed on the right side of his chest. The panic of knowing you were being watched never quite faded so you dived deeper into doing whatever you could for the people’s wounds. He’d been lucky for the knife to not puncture his lung because if that had happened his lungs would have filled with blood and he would end up choking on his own blood. If that had been the case, there would have been nothing for you to do at least long term. You were slowly coming to realize that all those trips spent in the library studying the multiple medical books were coming to work out in your favor. Bucky calls out the information in which you’ve told him to tell the girl who accompanies the man. She nods vigorously before grabbing his hand and helping him walk over to the opening that leads to the cells where you all would be holed up. The prison inside of the prison. How ironic. You call out for the next person to step forward but are met with silence. You look to the previous line to be met with open space.

“Come here.” He urges. He’s kneeling in front of you from where you sit on the high-rise rock. You ignore the outreach of his bloody hand and you walk around him. He sighs as you reach down to the faucet. The cold water greets your fingertips and you don’t move away from it. Bucky taps your shoulder and you turn around to see what he needs. He’s staring at you like you’re the smallest child in the playground and that if you don’t listen, he’ll throw you in time out. He points to his raised knee and you scoff shaking your head.

“Either you do it willingly or I force you.” You shake your head again and he groans throwing his head back in mock pain. You giggle and lean forward to reach the faucet again but you’re swiped off your feet as hands grip your waist tightly. He sits you on his lap and you have to wrap your arms around his neck to keep from falling. You whip your head around to glare at him because you’re certain he’s a mad man and he grins leaning towards the faucet. You let out a squeal and you grip his knees as he shifts back on the rock sitting you square between his legs. You know you look beyond pissed because he avoids your eyes. He’s still grinning though at your reaction as his hands release your waist and reach towards the faucet. You move your hands away quickly and lean forward with him, eager to get the remaining blood off your skin. Bucky turns the faucet to the left and water starts spilling from it. He tuts when your hands almost touch the water and he grabs your wrists. The interaction makes your skin tingle and interlocks your fingers with his. In that moment you feel the firs spread throughout your body. Everywhere he touches you sends a different burn straight to your heart. His chest presses against your back as he washes the blood off both of your hands. When he breathes you can feel it hit your ear and it makes the hair on your skin rise. His hands caress yours as they wash 30 or more people’s blood off. His fingers slide into between yours with ease that you watch in awe as your hands become yours again. Except with his hands on yours you aren’t exactly sure where he begins and where you stop. Funny thing is, you don’t ever want to figure it out. His fingers brush over yours and they move away too soon. Before you can grasp what you’re doing you grab his hands and start the same movements. You slide your fingers against his long ones and watch as they become his just as yours were yours. You hear Bucky’s breathing grow uneven and you look over your shoulder to see what’s wrong. His eyes immediately lock on yours and you can see something that you’d never seen on his face before. You can’t read it, but you know it’s something he tries to hide because his face becomes black once more and his hands move away from yours. You gasp softly at the loss of contact and swallow the complaint that tries to force its way out. The moment has disappeared, and you can feel the slight tinge of embarrassment floating its way through your senses. You wipe your hands on your pants and the sight of you and Bucky’s hands together burns itself into your mind. You know it shouldn’t be there, but your heart holds it close and locks it away for safe keeping.

“You ready?” he whispers. His hand lays on your stomach which does a flop at the sight of it and you nod not sure if you could even get through a full sentence without stuttering. You stand up and take a step away from him. You were trying to get a grasp on your emotions but the only thing you could focus on was how his scent no longer surrounded you. Your legs wobble as you try to walk but your knees give out. Bucky grabs your hand and pulls it around his neck.

“I don’t think I can walk.” You whisper. He doesn’t respond at first but you can tell he’s debating what to do.

“Hop on my back. I’ll carry you.” You nod slowly as you walk behind him and grab onto his shoulders. His hands wrap around your thighs and he pushes you up in the air. You jump and let your legs fall around his waist and let your arms hang loose over his shoulders. His figure shakes a little as he tries to steady you and start his long walk towards the open steel doors. You place your chin on his shoulder and let out a small sigh.

“My knight in shining armor.” You tease half heartedly and he laughs. The sound warms your bones more than anything else could and you don’t catch the small smile that spreads across his face as he starts walking towards the yelling Germans. It’s time for everyone to go back to their cells and if told once more there would be consequences. Your arms become heavy and feel like blobs of jello as they swing. You can feel yourself absentmindly snuggling into the warmth of the man carrying you, but it doesn’t register as your senses begin shutting down. You blink a few times as you stared down at the dog tags that swung on top of the green Henley that adorned Bucky’s chest. The faint sunlight disappears as he enters the prisoner compound and the room becomes dark. You lift your head up as shouts erupt around you. You catch people clapping and you have the urge to tell them to stop. Drawing attention of the soldiers wasn’t a good idea because they had just witnessed what happens when you cause a ruckus. You bury your head back into Bucky’s neck as you silently wish for the cries of joy to stop. Despite all the good you’d done you still couldn’t get over all the good you could have done so many years ago. Bucky senses your discomfort and starts to walk a little faster than before.

“Get some rest. You look like you could use it.” He says softly as a metal door creaks and it gets held open for the two of you. You nod slowly feeling your eyes shut again. You listen to him this time and let the exhaustion finally take over your body.

Tagging some peeps~@randomfangirl82 @stucky-my-ship @jules-1999 @starkssnarks @dallaswinstonswife1109@notsosecretspy @kyn-lyn-blog @alltoowell-taylorsversion@creecree-4-life

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tigerkirby215 · 3 years

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5e Hank J. Wimbleton, the Protagonist build (Madness Combat)

(Artwork by AndrewKO on Newgrounds.)

Friday Night Funkin’ Tricky Mod reminded me of the Madness Combat series... man it’s a trip in the best possible way. I honestly miss the old days on Newgrounds where stuff like Madness Combat could get extremely popular just off fan reception alone.

Anyways I think the fantasy of playing a bloodthirsty expert killer is something that most people can identify with in D&D, and Hank is certainly a badass in his own right. So while this was mostly a spur-of-the-moment sort of build here’s Hank J. Wimbleton with as many of his abilities I could reasonably put into a build at once, from Madness Combat 1 all the way to Madness Combat 11: Expurgation.

Also I finally get to use artwork from a website other than DeviantArt which is pretty awesome.

GOALS

Avenger - Hank shoots guns good and Madness is a series of guns first and foremost.

Aggregation - Hank is also more than capable in melee combat, being able to use all sorts of weapons including his fists!

Redeemer - Spoilers for Madness Combat 9 I guess.

RACE

The characters in Madness don’t really look like anything in reality, but it’s fairly safe to say that they are meant to be some sort of human. So we’re going to be going for Variant Human: yup not even an Eberron race since we do need everything that Variant Human provides. Increase your Constitution and Dexterity both by 1 and grab Acrobatics proficiency to dodge incoming knife swings and gunfire. And as per standard take whatever language suits your campaign.

Now you’re probably expecting Crossbow Expert as our level 1 feat, right? Or perhaps even Gunner? That’s where you’re wrong! Hank throws punches far earlier than he starts using guns, and he also uses a lot or improvised weapons throughout the mainline Madness Combat series. So grab Tavern Brawler for a +1 to Strength, a d4 unarmed strike (it’s not earth-shattering but it gets the job done), and proficiency with improvised weapons. And the grappling part which honestly doesn’t impact us much, but it’s nice to grab a human shield.

ON THE GUNNER FEAT: Going to make a quick mention now that this build is made under the assumption that your DM will not allow firearms in their campaign, and as a result we will be reflavoring crossbows as firearms. In short we’re not taking the Gunner feat, but if your DM allows it go ahead and take it.

Honestly if your DM allows firearms it would probably be a good idea to play whatever firearm-based class they added to play as Hank, instead of the build I made here. This build however is meant for the average D&D campaign.

ABILITY SCORES

Hank is MAD, rather fittingly. So MAD in fact that I can’t contain the madness within Standard Array. So rejoice we’re actually going to be using Point Buy!

STRENGTH; 9 - The vast majority of Hank’s weapons are either firearms or weapons that I would constitute as finesse based. With the +1 from Tavern Brawler this is still enough for your punches and improvised Strength weapons to pack a punch at least.

DEXTERITY; 15 - As mentioned above we will primarily be using firearms (crossbows) and finesse weapons.

CONSTITUTION; 11 - Mostly to round out the build, which along with the +1 from our race gives us a bit of bulk which will help with all the killing.

INTELLIGENCE; 14 - There’s many ways I can justify this but the easiest way is to say “it’s a multiclassing requirement.”

WISDOM; 14 - Wisdom is tied to perception as well as survival instinct, and is a multiclassing requirement.

CHARISMA; 8 - Hank is of the quiet sort and doesn’t talk much between all the killing. Yes he can intimidate info out of people but you try keeping your cool with a gun pointed to your head.

BACKGROUND

There was a man who sought the sheriff, and to slay the sheriff you’re automatically made a Criminal. I am however going to suggest swapping your skills out for Intimidation and Slight of Hand (IE Gun Tricks.) Feel free to take whatever Gaming Set you want, but thankfully as a Criminal you can choose Land Vehicles as your tool proficiency, because Hank does run over some guys in part 4!

Criminal Contact will let you get in contact with Sanford and Deimos in case you... you know, die? You can always get your message across when needed: D&D doesn’t have computers but you can still find some shady merchants or corrupt guards to get into contact with your crew.

(Artwork by redemer19 on Newgrounds.)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - ARTIFICER 1

Starting off as an Artificer because CON saving throw proficiency is nice. So is proficiency in Investigation, Perception, and a tool of your choice.

Tinkerer’s Tools technically counts as gunsmith tools if we go with Matt Mercer’s homebrew, but you already get those for free (along with Thieves’ Tools) as an Artificer. I personally opted for Smith’s Tools as the next best option which will also double for taking care of swords and knives.

You can also get a Boombox to dance to thanks to Magical Tinkering. You can infuse magic into a Tiny object to give it a variety of effects: make it glow, have it display a message, or most importantly have it play the Chicken Dance song. You can have a number of these equal to your Intelligence modifier, which is to say not many.

You do also get Spellcasting: You get two cantrips from the Artificer list: Mage Hand will let you grab a weapon for yourself that’s out of reach, and Acid Splash will serve as a starter shotgun for some buckshot against multiple enemies. As for your leveled spells you can prepare a number of spells equal to your Intelligence modifier plus half your Artificer level, which is to say... not many. Feather Fall can be useful when up in high places, and Detect Magic is universally useful for finding any anomalies created by the Improbability Drive.

LEVEL 2 - ARTIFICER 2

The main reason we went for Artificer first is Infusions, gear you can bring at the start of the fight for an upper hand. Of course the main weapon we’ll be grabbing is the Repeating Shot Weapon which will be how you make basically all your guns. Not having to reload is nice and not having to worry about ammo is better!

ON YOUR WEAPONS: For now the only weapon you can reasonably use is a Light Crossbow, however soon you’ll be able to put Repeating Shot on either a Heavy Crossbow (rifle) or Hand Crossbow (pistol) depending on your preference.

Other than that you can borrow from Sanford’s book and make a Returning Weapon to throw a hook and pull it back, create Sending Stones to keep in touch with your crew, and have a Rope of Climbing to sneak into the sheriff’s office. Or you can choose your own tools for the job as I am merely suggesting what makes the most sense for Hank, but the Repeating Shot Weapon is the only one you truly need.

You can also prepare another spell like Identify, to know what weapon you’re picking up.

LEVEL 3 - RANGER 1

This is a bit out of left field isn’t it? Well Ranger gives a number of things, the first of which being Stealth proficiency for your initial entrance. You also get Deft Explorer (instead of Natural Explorer) for Canny, giving you two languages (pick your poison) and Expertise in one skill of your choice (go for Acrobatics to evade attacks and stay alive.)

You also get Favored Foe (instead of Favored Enemy), letting you concentrate on an enemy’s weak points to kill them quickly. When you hit an enemy you can choose to mark them so they take an extra d4 of damage once per turn from your attacks. You do have to concentrate on this effect (like a spell) but aiming for the head is a good way to end someone quickly.

LEVEL 4 - RANGER 2

Second level Rangers get to choose their Fighting Style and you’re probably expecting me to tell you to take Archery, right? Well even if you’re mostly going to be using guns you do have proficiency with melee weapons too, and since our Strength is kinda bad I’d suggest taking Druidic Warrior for some simple boosts to your combat proficiency.

Shillelagh will be a good place to start by letting you swing a blunt object with your Wisdom instead of your Strength. The main weapons Hank uses in the Madness series other than shortswords is clubs, bats, and pipes which I’d all consider as viable targets for Shillelagh if your DM’s cool.

Mending will be useful to keep your outfit in check after taking a bad hit.

Feel free to take Archery if you want as it’s likely more useful for this build. Again I am opting for what’s the most accurate for Hank, not for what’s the most optimal to build.

But if you want to keep yourself in check after taking a bad hit you can grab some Ranger Spellcasting. Cure Wounds will let you bandage yourself (or an ally) up in the thick of a fight, and Zephyr Strike will let you rush in while avoiding danger to deliver a deadly strike on a key foe.

LEVEL 5 - RANGER 3

There’s quite a few reasons we didn’t go for Rogue levels in this build (spoilers btw): Hank does most of his fighting solo, doesn’t really opt for stealth except for at the start of missions, and because the Gloom Stalker is far better for how Hank operates. For a start you get Umbral Sight for 60 feet of Darkvision with your dumb human eyes, but you can also hide in the dark so well that even creatures with darkvision can’t see you! Which is good because Dread Ambusher gives you a bonus to initiative rolls equal to your Wisdom modifier along, but more importantly lets you move 10 feet faster on the first round of combat. And you can also attack one extra time on the first round of combat, and if you hit with that extra attack you’ll deal an extra d8 damage to down a foe quick and give yourself more options.

You can learn a new spell at this level like Hail of Thorns for some buckshot, and you also get Gloom Stalker Magic, adding Disguise Self to your spell list so you can look like a regular dude who isn’t covered with bandages. You also get Primal Awareness, because even if Speak With Animals makes no sense for Hank it’s still better than Primeval Awareness.

(Artwork by LegendaryPanettone on Newgrounds.)

LEVEL 6 - RANGER 4

4th level Rangers get an Ability Score Improvement: Dexterity controls everything we do currently so increase that by 2 for better AC, shooting, sword-swinging, and DEX saves.

LEVEL 7 - RANGER 5

5th level Rangers get an Extra Attack, allowing them to shoot twice and even allowing you specifically to shoot 3 times on your first turn!

You can also learn second level Ranger spells now: Primal Awareness gives you Beast Sense and Gloom Stalker Magic gives you Rope Trick for a place to hide and ambush from. And Enhance Ability (ty Tasha’s) will let you push yourself when violence is needed.

LEVEL 8 - RANGER 6

6th level Rangers see Favored Foe turn into a d6 to be somewhat on-par with Hunter’s Mark. You also get Roving from Deft Explorer for 5 extra feet of movement, as well as a swimming and climbing speed.

But now that you’ve gotten all your killing done it’s time to die. Because you do not kill clown; clown kills you!

(Artwork by Jinxsaw on Newgrounds.)

LEVEL 9 - ARTIFICER 3

You can’t kill the protagonist! We’re at 9th level which translates perfectly to Madness Combat 9, which means you can be revived as an Armorer Artificer! Your consciousness will be placed inside of a suit of Arcane Armor, replacing any missing limbs you may have and genuinely account for all your injuries. The armor also doesn’t have a Strength requirement and can be used as a focus for your Artificer spells.

There’s two different Armor Models to choose from but for now I’d suggest keeping to guns and going for the Infiltrator model (mostly because your Intelligence is bad so it would be better to opt for Dexterity to fire your guns.) The Lightning Launcher is like a handgun except it has very good range (90/300) and does Lightning Damage, and even lets you do an extra d6 damage once per turn! You also get Powered Steps for an extra 5 feet of movement speed (adding up to 40 total thanks to Ranger!) and a Dampening Field will give you Advantage on Stealth due to your black outfit.

You also get some Armorer Spells: Magic Missile for some unavoidable gunfire and Thunderwave to give yourself some space. You can also choose a different set of Artisan’s Tools from Tools of the Trade since you likely already have Smith’s Tools proficiency. You can pick whatever you think will be useful, but it’s worth mentioning that you can make a tool with 1 hour of work thanks to The Right Tool for the Job. And no Hank; weapons are not tools. At least not by this definition.

LEVEL 10 - ARTIFICER 4

4th level Artificers get an Ability Score Improvement. Wouldn’t it make sense to increase your Intelligence as an Artificer now that you can use your Armorer weapons with INT? Yes. Anyways increase your Dexterity by 2.

WOULD IT HAVE MADE MORE SENSE TO MAX OUT INTELLIGENCE FOR THIS BUILD? Yes. Now that you have Armorer levels you’re basically never going to be using crossbows again realistically. Oops. Having good INT instead of good DEX would mean that you could start using the Guardian armor to punch some stuff, and 14 in DEX would still allow you to wear Medium armor. You could’ve easily taken 3 (or more realistically 5) levels in Artificer at the start of this build and then gone for Ranger to not have to deal with bad ranged weapons while having good stats for an Artificer.

There’s still strengths to having high DEX obviously (good initiative, good Stealth and Acrobatics checks, good DEX saves, and you get Mirror Image as an Armorer Artificer) but it’s really not that important for this build. But I’m still maxing it out first as it’s accurate to Hank. In the average D&D campaign you’re not going to be picking up weapons from enemies you kill to use them when you run out of ammo. There’s many things I took in this build that are impractical for anything other than a combat heavily inspired by Madness Combat.

Basically feel free to min-max this build if you so desire; it’s quite viable in its own right when you do so. Again I’m trying for accuracy over viability. Also P.S. After this build comes out I’m going to release a “pre-MC9″ Hank build if you want more of the traditional Hank who isn’t in power armor.

You can also prepare another spell at this level but we’re going to wait for...

LEVEL 11 - ARTIFICER 5

5th level Artificers get an Extra Attack... which you already have. Oops.

Well at least you get access to second level spells! As an Armorer you get Mirror Image to dodge gunfire, and Shatter! For a grenade! But to continue dodging attacks Blur works well as long as the enemy doesn’t have Truesight, which the AAHW may have by total level 11.

LEVEL 12 - ARTIFICER 6

6th level Artificers can prepare more Infusions! A Spell-Refueling Ring will let you restock on spell slot bullets mid-fight, and Boots of the Winding Path will let you jump back after getting into melee combat.

You also get Tool Expertise which is exactly what it says on the tin. You double your proficiency bonus when making checks with tools.

To top it off you can prepare another spell like Catapult. Why are we preparing a first level spell? Because Hank throws big rocks at Tricky in Madness 11. Told you I did research.

(Artwork by ramblinshroom on Newgrounds.)

LEVEL 13 - ARTIFICER 7

7th level Artificers get to feel the pain of my choice to max out Dexterity instead of Intelligence as Flash of Genius scales heavily off Intelligence. When you or an ally within 30 feet makes an ability check or a saving throw you can use your reaction to add your Intelligence modifier to the roll. You can use this feature a number of times equal to your Intelligence modifier and regain all expended uses when you finish a long rest.

LEVEL 14 - ARTIFICER 8

8th level Artificers get another Ability Score Improvement and now that your Dexterity is maxed out... more Wisdom lol? Look we’ll deal with your Intelligence in a bit but Wisdom gives you better initiative among other things.

You can also prepare another spell but next level will get us third level spells, so...

LEVEL 15 - ARTIFICER 9

9th level Artificers can get used to their new revived bodies thanks to Armor Modifications. The chest, boots, helmet, and weapons of your armor all count as individual items for the sake of infusions, and you can have two more infusions active! (As long as they’re on your armor anyways.)

You also get Hypnotic Pattern and Lightning Bolt as an Armorer, for a flashbang and some purgatory powers. And you can prepare a spell like Haste, to move so fast it’s like the world is in slow motion.

LEVEL 16 - ARTIFICER 10

So you know how we just got two more infusions for your armor? Well 10th level Artificers can make Gauntlets of Ogre Power and a Headband of Intellect to finally get your Strength and Intelligence to a reasonable level. Again probably a bit late to do so but it does mean that you can finally use melee weapons well, or your Guardian Armor to do some punching! (I’m not going to cover the Guardian Armor now but know that you can punch people and give them disadvantage to hit your allies, and also give yourself Temporary hitpoints.)

And the best part is that you can still keep attuned to other useful items as Magic Item Adept gives you one more attunement slot, meaning that you can be attuned to 4 items total!

And to top it off more Intelligence means more spells and holy shit another cantrip! For your cantrip you can finally take Message to keep in contact with your party, and for your leveled spells...

People die a lot in Nevada: Revivify can help if one of those people are a friend.

See Invisibility will help you avoid ambushes.

Lesser Restoration can help you in a pinch if you’re pinned down.

But again I seriously can not stress enough that you are more than welcome to pick spells that you feel are stronger, as I am merely picking spells for a simple guy who really likes killing.

(Artwork by marcipancakes on Newgrounds.)

LEVEL 17 - RANGER 7

Very quickly going back to Ranger to grab the last few abilities we missed: 7th level Gloom Stalkers have an Iron Mind for proficiency with Wisdom saves. Yup that’s it. Well at least you can add () to your Ranger spell list.

LEVEL 18 - RANGER 8

8th level Rangers get Land Stride to not be slowed down by the difficult terrain during Expurgation, and even giving yourself advantage against magical terrain made to harm you in purgatory.

But more importantly you get an Ability Score Improvement to pump your Wisdom up a little more. But really I only waited this long to get Ranger 8 to talk about Martial Versatility from Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything: talk to your DM about it but I’d actually suggest grabbing Archery proper now instead of Druidic Warrior because you’ve got the Strength to use weapons.

Oh yeah you could also totally like... use the Guardian armor and carry a repeating crossbow for ranged combat.

LEVEL 19 - ARTIFICER 11

11th level Artificers can bring out the heavy artillery with a Spell-Storing Item. You can store a first or second level spell from the Artificer spell list in one simple or martial weapon (or a spellcasting focus) that requires 1 action to cast.

While holding the object, a creature can take an action to produce the spell’s effect from it, using your spellcasting ability modifier. If the spell requires concentration, the creature must concentrate. The spell stays in the object until it’s been used a number of times equal to twice your Intelligence modifier (minimum of twice) or until you use this feature again to store a spell in an object.

There are plenty of good spells you can choose from but I’m going to just say this: put Shatter in the item. There are perhaps more useful choices, but isn’t a grenade belt the embodiment of Madness?

LEVEL 20 - ARTIFICER 12

12th level Artificers get our last Ability Score Improvement which means hey: maxed out Wisdom! Yes there are perhaps feats you could get (some ideas I’d suggest would be either the Dual Wielder feat [carry a Repeating Hand Crossbow in one hand and your magical fist in the other] or the Sharpshooter feat) but I simply opted for maxing out stats.

And you can prepare one more spell like... I don’t know? Blink for more dodging?

FINAL BUILD

PROS

Abrogation - I came into this build with the intent of making you capable with all weapons regardless of type and well... I certainly accomplished that. You have good Dexterity for any finesse and ranged weapons and your Strength is strong enough to swing a bat around.

Antipathy - You are also damn capable in combat with an insane opening turn and very good DPS regardless of if you choose to fight with fists or guns, not to mention a good supply of spells and class abilities to truly slaughter your foes.

Apotheosis - It wasn’t my intent but... 20 in two stats and 19 in two others? Excluding your Charisma and Constitution you’re a superhuman of a man.

CONS

Depredation - You have to be level 16 to finally get a decent Strength and Intelligence score, and while low STR doesn’t matter much low INT really hurts as an Artificer.

Consternation - “High stats except Constitution” is a problem. Honestly going 15 in Artificer and 5 in Ranger would’ve gotten you level 15 infusions for a Hill Giant’s Belt for 21 STR and an Amulet of Health for 19 CON.

Inundation - There’s a lot of little tweaks worth changing in this build, notably the focus on Dexterity versus Intelligence. Realistically having 20 INT and 14 DEX is more useful for you as an Artificer than having 19 INT and 20 DEX.

But who cares if it’s messy; as long as it’s effective. Killing everyone somewhere in Nevada will give you plenty of experience to reach your maximum Madness level. You are the Protagonist and they are the Victims... but don’t go into any D&D campaigns with that mentality, or else you may be the Clown.

(Artwork by Teknodice on Newgrounds.)

#dnd #dnd 5e #dnd build #dnd guide #Newgrounds #Madness Combat #madness hank #Hank J. Wimbleton #dnd ranger #dnd artificer

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rotomgender-moved · 3 years

Text

Under the cut is the first part/chapter of it

Title: Runs in our Family

Word Count: roughly 1.5-2k I'd say

TWs: Near panic attacks, mild dehumanization of self, general ask to tag

Part One

The constant click of timers and bubbling of boiling water is what grounded them, eyes flickering about the room to watch over everything he had to. The rhythmic sound of a knife cutting through vegetables was like music to his ears, a hum rumbling through their chest added to the harmony of the kitchen. It made him feel in control, because he was. Guided merely by his memory of the recipe. Even then, he can tweek and test and try new things. It allowed them to have control over its life. It allowed it to feel safe, even when working with fire and knives and pots and pans searing red with heat.

"N, my golden friend," His Zoroark companion began from their resting position. "The noodles, you need to put them in the water." N froze for a moment, startled by the sudden reminder.

"Ah! Yes, you're right. What could I do without you, Illusion." It chuckled as its own forgetfulness, scooping the fresh noodles in careful hands and putting them into the water carefully. Setting the egg timer for a minute and a half before continuing the final preparations on the vegetables. Picking them in his hands and putting them into the sauce in a few scoops.

"You are becoming a good chef, my golden friend, but you mustn't lose yourself in your head while working with fire."

"Yes, Illusion, I am very aware. I'm working on it, I promise."

"I pray to Arceus you learn before you lose a paw."

"Hand, before I lose a hand."

"You get the picture."

Truly, N thought as he nodded to Zoroark. What could I do without you.

N let out a breath of air, turning off the fire in the stone as the timer goes off. Waiting quietly for the sauce to finish cooking. Reminding himself to take a few tablespoons of sugar and sprinkle it into the sauce, making it just that much sweeter. Waiting just for a few more moments, they have to. Reward cannot be reaped without patience, he thought, he must have patience.

To fill his time, he spread his hands up in the air in a Y shape, spinning around and humming. Fully content before he felt a sharp pain in his hand, followed by the loud BANG of the hanging pans hitting each other. N flinched, covering his ears and letting out a whine. A shiver rocked his body, but just before they could feel any tears begin to brim. A hand was placed onto his back, or a paw, moreso.

"It is alright," The voice of his pokemon cooed. "It is only cooking utensils, nothing more. Now, why don't you plate your dinner and watch some of your shows?"

They continued to nod a little, thanking the illusionist with a scratch on the chin. Which, from the aura of joy it received from Zoroark, was greatly appreciated. N turned on their heel and scooped the noodles onto a plate he already had set aside before pouring a ladle or two of sauce onto it. N had promised Mallow a few days before that he would save some extra sauce for her to use in one of her dishes. Whatever concoction she may come up with, and however much it made the trio of chefs-turned-gym-leaders angry, he was excited to see it.

As he settled down at his little table in his little kitchen, he smiled a tad. It had taken well a while for him to grow accustomed, or even willing, to live in a home. His first actions at coming to this strange new region had been to find an escape in the woods with his pokemon companions and live off nature for a month and a half. Which apparently, from what they deciphered from the angry ranting of a disgruntled Hugh and the chaotic explanation of a worried Alder. Had left his fellow Unovans with a wild goose chase to find him, having only been discovered by an odd group of children with accents he didn't quite recognize mistaking him for a new wild pokemon, thusly getting hit with a thunder wave that left him in the Pokemon Centers human unit for a little longer then N would prefer to admit.

Once they had been captured and as Nate and Rosa dubbed it, "Secured, Contained and Protected", they were subjected to an explanation that pulling an out-of-pocket disappearing act after the multiple both he, Hilbert and Hilda pulled off, wasn't the best idea. Which he understood! But it wasn't out-of-pocket. They should have expected it to run off into the woods and allowed it to. Or at least explained to those paralysis-happy children to watch out for an uncanny woodland dweller with a Zororak.

Even then, once they were captured, it was surely difficult for them to adjust. They were a pokemon, weren't they? A beast, that's what he'd always been told. No human would be able to speak with creatures that aren't fellow humans. But isn't it the same with Pokemon? So are these pokemon more human than beast, or is he more beast than human? Was it the years of isolation that made it hard to settle in an actual home all by itself, or was it the longing to run free with beasts like him?

N didn't like sitting in that question, so as it always did, it shoved it back into a deep corner of their mind and locked it in a little box with all those other heavy questions. All of the concerns and the old ideologies he forcibly shoves away and represses. It was all he could do, if he wasn't a beast or human. Then who could he be helped by?

Well, it didn't matter. It hadn't even noticed it had finished its plate of early dinner during his lamenting. Having been lazily twirling the fork in nothing for a good few moments to minutes.

"N, my golden child," Zororak began. "Why don't you tuck me away and go speak to other people. You haven't left this little ranch-house in a few days; it will do you some good." They commented, nudging N's back. The soft clacks of things such as potions, a tube for those "PokeBlocks" that a pair of twins had been gifting to everyone on the island, and pokeballs.

"That… Does sound like a good idea." N agreed quietly, fully coming out of their thoughts. "Yeah." They got up off their seat and washed the plate and other utensils he had used swiftly, before shrugging their jacket back on and stringing their hair into a ponytatail once more. If Zororak thought it was a good idea, then N might as well be convinced. This pokemon had single-paw-dedly helped raise him from infancy to now. Always having found its way back to him. N thought of it as a mother and as they say. Mother knows best.

As he exited his home and was met by warm sunshine, he suddenly remembered why they had been so intrigued by the woods and all its inhabitants for oh-so-long. Or well, the week they had been there before they were hospitalized by four sneaky, pokemon hunting children. They couldn't be mad, though. They were apparently uncanny looking, Hilbert having described him as "a bit to long and a little too fluffy, with speech so fast he might as well just be making noises."

But N didn't mind, it simply thought itself as far more built for the wild than the others. But… Thinking about it, that could be the reason why everyone though that of him. As N walked, staring down at the grass in thought. He felt his shoulder bump someone running by.

"Watch it, tall-ass!" A quite foulmouthed voice sounded, making N's eyes flicker to the redhead who was already making a getaway.

"Language!" They simply called back, rolling their eyes, hearing a distant "shut up!" as they made distance with the redhead. "Rude child." He decided, looking up to glance around the circle of homes that they had all settled in during this odd meet up. In a region that nobody seemed to have heard of, at that. It felt weird, it was weird. Why did any of them trust it?

Well, it should speak for itself. It went along, even if dragged on by his group of siblings-by-spirit. Chattering away that if they were all going, he was coming along. That they had already packed everything for him, and that if he refused they'd just sleep powder him and take him along anyway-

Why did I not run off? They thought, realizing the slight horror of that situation. Those kids were needlessly pushy in trying to get N to talk to new people. Dragging him about the cruiser they were in with all the other guests. Introducing him to some of the other kids that Nate and Hugh had already dragged into their mischief.

What were those kids names? Barry and Sapphire, he believes. Sapphire was that young lady who's brother had given him the tube of pokemon candies, if he remembers. Barry was a talkative young boy who seemed to immediately jump ship to play along with Nate and Hugh's pranks. He also remembers a handful of other faces, a married couple he vaugly remembers seeing on a few news casts back in Unova, Red and Green were their names. Along with another lady he didn't recognize, who took quickly to chatting along with Hilbert and Hilda. Rosa had been coaxing a green haired boy out of his shell with who he thinks was Sapphire's brother.

He remembers a few other faces. A circle of kids all taking part in pokemon trading under Lance's watch. Bianca and Cheren, listening to a young boy, chitter away about his brother. Two boys nearly tearing at eachother, and not in a pokemon battle, while their supposed companions either encouraged it or tried to seperate them. One of them was that redhead who had swore at them, he thinks.

But most importantly, he met Mallow and Guzma on that ship. The only two he confidently remembers the names and faces of. Mallow was a sweet woman, a trial captain. She had seen his shivery, nervous nature and pulled him aside from the crowd. He had listened to her talk about cooking and asked a few questions himself. Which is where that interest began. Guzma was… well he can only say he was Guzma. Rough around the edges yet smooth in the soul type, who had introduced him to N's first new species of pokemon in a while. A very, very polite and well mannered Gollisapod. He could sense even before listening to the pokemon that it was well cared for.

It further made their heart pull, obviously the pokemon was battle-scarred. One or two chips on its shell that were healing overtime. But still so… Happy. Pokemon Battles weren't that bad, he knew that. But the confirmation that it was all okay was still nice.

"Hey, you!" A voice snapped him from his thoughts, making him turn. "Yeah, you! Take a few steps back. You almost walked yourself off a cliff."

"Oh- why thank you! I didn't even notice."

"Obviously you didn't," He snorted a little. "You're that N guy that Rosa was telling me about! I'm Ruby, I was out trying to see some new pokemon. But all I caught was you almost about to take a trip off a cliff." Ruby rolled his eyes.

"Well, I was lost in thought. Thank you again for catching me, Ruby. Though I'm sure I would've survived a fall into some sand." N shrugged, examining Ruby as the boy nodded over his shoulder.

"Well… Maybe as a thank you, you could come to the community house where all of us trainers are. Rosa said you had some pretty cool Pokemon that you never let anyone touch the PokeBalls of. It's gotten the group talking." Ruby smiled, eyes crinkling. N paused in thought, feeling the pokeball in his hand he recognized as Zororaks. It wanted them to talk to other people… So they might as well. Even if the idea of presenting their pokemon to people they didn't know made their stomach twist.

"... Okay, alright. I will. Lead the way, Ruby."

#ranger writes #pkmn posting #runs in our family fanfiction #hi :]#feel free to ask questions about it lolz

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theobxhummingbird · 4 years

Text

A helpless moment when you found me. -Luke Patterson x Reader.

Summary: It all starts with a few cups of orange juice, and ends with 1 liter of tears. Luke Patterson needs to find a way of winning her back into his life.

A/N: @beautifulblogsblog enjoy this little emotional Luke x Reader imagine, my very very emotional self put together. Thank you for suggesting this story. 🤗🤗

(GIF CREDIT TO OWNER)

It all started, when Sunset Curve started to get known by bigger audience. All the teenage girls were crazy over the four, cute boys; they even got called on TV to promote their album; sold t-shirts and played a few shows out of town. All in all, the bandmates succeeded in making it to the side of the buses, or on the lock screens of many phones.

Luke’s dream was to have his music, listened by many people around the world; and it worked, which had him talk about it for days. And it was all going well with him, until everything about his music career started to blind him. Bobby, Reggie and Alex were doing great, not too much dedicated into the music, well, not as much as Luke. It touched him so much, the need of his music being heard, as well as his name, that he even freshly made up from a fight with his mum. Emily and Mitch were understanding parents. At the beginning, they didn’t accept the idea of his 17-year-old son, playing in a rock band, but when they all sat down to talk about it, the wild waters calmed, and they were able to speak the same language.

Luke, wasn’t only lucky to have two amazingly supportive and understanding people in his life, but one more, who always had the time to sit down and listen to what he had to let out of his heart. She, who was his first text in the morning, and last text at night; she, who was his few missed calls; she, who was the whole sunshine he could need in his life. She, who loved him with her entire heart; more than herself. He was thankful. He was so thankful, until she became the person that would wait for him to text first or call first, rather than bothering him. She became the place he’d come to, if he needed a person to tell all his matters to. But what she became, that caused her the entire pain in the world, was becoming the one who always waited for him at the table they reserved for their date.

And, together with his promise of never letting her hanging again, Y/N hopefully waited at the table. Her sixth ordered cup of orange juice, had the orange line at the bottom of the cup, letting the waiter know, she had finished another one. Other than a big vase of flowers, and empty eating supplies; that once used to be filled with delicious food, now there was nobody else at the table. She checked the time, and he was now four hours late.

The amount of respect and love Y/N had for Luke, kept her sat on that chair for four hours. And she wouldn’t have even moved, if it wasn’t for the waiter who let her know that there’s a couple that reserved the table after them. She managed to pay him for the drinks, and her trembling body made it out of the now, least favorite restaurant on her list of date places she and Luke went to; well if he came, they would’ve had a great time and she wouldn’t have to put it at the least favorites, just like the one he left her the last time.

With the second time of leaving her hanging, Y/N thought he’d learned from the mistake he made and they wouldn’t need to argue with each other. This---this was another disrespect for her, and God knew where he was. No text, nor calls appeared from him, and it made her more worried, than mad that night.

And like for every person, there’s times where unluckiness catches us in a trap. Suddenly, all that happens that day or night, is bad. It not only ruins our day/night, but it ruins our life and us in whole. It started to pour. Immediately, it soaked Y/N to her bones, and the only escape she had, was to run in those puddles that formed in the cracks of the pavement, and hide under and awning of a bar that was not too far from where she was. Y/N pulled the sides of her jacket towards each other, trying to warm herself, by blowing and rubbing her hands together. The bar seemed to still be opened, but she couldn’t really be sure because it was hard to see from the foggy window. She wiped away the fogginess with her elbow, revealing a surprising picture; one, she couldn’t really believe. Luke, Reggie, Alex and Bobby, all gathered around a girl. Her hair strands, were stuck to her face, and her face was traced with water lines, but not from the rain; she was now, fully in tears. As if four hundred knives were stabbed in her back, Y/N turned her back, and stepped out in the rain---after what she saw, there was nothing that could hurt her more.

She was a slave to the heartache, and it controlled her in every way. Y/N’s broken figure, entered the empty hallway of her home, but luckily her parents were asleep to even see her in that state. And it was for their and her best, even Luke’s, because they were very protective over their daughter. She didn’t even change into pajamas, neither did she dry her hair. The covers were pulled over her body, and she was fast asleep, getting the warmth, of her cold body and warm breathing.

Like others say though, the mother instinct is never wrong. She was fast awake when she heard the doors open. Tip toeing away from her sleeping husband, so he doesn’t argue about leaving their so in love daughter, to live her teenage love years, she slowly opened the door of Y/N’s room. She quietly gasped at the state she was in, and sat on her bed, feeling the soaked clothes she was sleeping in. And it wasn’t only from the rain, but now from the sweating that soaked her pillow. Y/N was shaking, and her cheeks were burning red.

-Wake up, wake up! -she shook her husband. He jumped out of bed, and followed her to their daughters room.

-Y/N. Y/N. Y/N.

No answer. The next thing, her dad picked her up and rushed to the car in his pajamas, her mother following him. The car drove away from their house, and her dad was driving fast to the hospital. He carried her in his hands, until the medical staff took care of her. She was frozen and her lips were bruised. They put a breathing mask immediately, and her heart rate was very low.

It was a nightmare of a night for the Y/L/N family, and it scared Y/N’s parents, that her mother had to also be taken care of. Her dad got himself a cup of tea from the canteen and sat outside the hospital room, waiting for his wife and daughter to get better. And he waited, until the doctor called him to his office.

-Y/N hadn’t eaten properly for days, and stress reacted even more. Also, she got soaked, which completed the state she is in now. Your daughter needs to eat, Mr. Y/L/N and stay away from stress as much as possible. It’s not a joke, it’s a life we’re talking about; a life of a young person. Here’s the pills she needs to drink for her curing. She’ll be held in the hospital for two days, then we’ll release her home.

Her dad bought the pills, as soon as he left the office. And the man wasn’t stupid, to not understand that the stress, might involve Luke as well. He didn’t call him though. If the boyfriend of her daughter, was wise enough to check up on his girlfriend, he would’ve called himself. So, he was back to waiting.

Luke on the other hand, was at home. Sweaty from the big performance he had to do that night. And, we would all blame him for leaving Y/N alone, but the reason behind him leaving her hanging, is heartwarming from one side for another person, but painful and risky for Y/N. He changed into clean, and dry clothes, and sat on his bed, to see what Y/N’s up to, and explain what happened, that he couldn’t even text, nor call her. No answer. He called her dad, her mum, but none of them answered. So, he went to bed thinking they’re all sleeping, though, something kept aching his heart, that he couldn’t close his eyes as soon as he placed his head on the pillow. He kept tossing and turning, but it didn’t work, until finally, he found the best position, and fell into a deep sleep.

Y/N’s mother woke up before her the next morning, and stayed listening to her daughter, repeating Luke’s name in her sleep. Though, she also didn’t want to call him, thinking the same way as her husband. Y/N didn’t still open her eyes, and as much as the doctors and nurses wanted to, and even tried waking her, she wasn’t waking up. Her mother now went to treat herself a cup of tea, after the night she had.

-Mrs. Y/L/N? -said a voice from behind her. She turned around with a confused expression, but it dropped when she saw Reggie; Luke’s bandmate, who she met once at a show the Y/L/N family went to, to support Luke.

-Hello Reggie. How are you?

-I’m great Mrs. Y/L/N, actually how are you, is there something wrong?

-Yes Reggie, there is. Y/N is going to be held here for two days. Yesterday she came home soaked, and got sick so we had to rush her to the hospital, because she couldn’t wake up.

-Ca-can I see her please? -his eyes were filled with tears and worry.

-Sure. Come with me. -she placed a hand on his shoulder and walked him to the hospital room. Unnoticeably, he sent and SMS to Luke, quickly sending away what happened to Y/N, hoping his friend will come to take care of his girl.

-Oh no, Y/N. -he said, taking a hold of her frozen hand.

After getting out of the shower, Luke finally looked at his messages, and it took him a second to slip his shoes on, and basically run to the hospital with his wet hair.

-Y/N Y/L/N! -he breathlessly said to the person at the register.

-Room 200. -she said, and he tapped the elevator button, but couldn’t wait for it, so he took the stairs. When he got to the hallway, where her parents were stood, his heart dropped at the scene. Both of them in pajamas still, with barely any sleep, because of him.

-Mrs. Y/L/N. -he said in tears.

-Go Luke, go next to her. We’ll talk about it later. -she rubbed his back, and he wiped away his tears, and entered the room, where Reggie was waiting, who jumped up and left, so he could be next to Y/N.

-Oh, my beautiful girl. I’m so sorry, it’s my fault.-he brushed away some hair from her face, and trailed his hand down her cheek. He took a hold of both of her hands, kissing them many times, and grabbing the sheets of the bed, so he could quietly cry in them. A warm line was traced under his eyes, and it disappeared at the corner of his eye.

-Don’t cry. -her raspy voice, made it to his ears, as his head shot up.

-Oh Y/N, I’m so sorry-

-Don’t be Luke.-she turned her head to the window, where her parents were stood. She blinked as an approval of them entering the room.

-Baby. -said her mother, and went to kiss her temple, followed by her dad. -How are you feeling?

-I’m feeling better. Can we go home now? -she lifted herself to sit up, but her mother pressed her down back on the bed.

-The doctor said two days. Tomorrow you’ll be home anyways.

-Fine then. Let’s follow what the doctor said, I guess. -she sent a sad smile towards her parents. They saw what the situation was, and left them alone, even though Y/N’s look begged them not to leave her alone with Luke.

-Can I explain myself? -he asked softly.

-Of course. -she positioned herself, so her back could rest against the pillow.

-We had to do this last minute show, Y/N. It was for a kid’s operation money for aboard, and they needed to be sent that night. They asked us, and we couldn’t say no to that poor family. For else, you know I wouldn’t repeat my mistakes.

-I’m glad the kid’s got operation money. Hope he’ll, heal as soon as possible.

-I’m so sorry, baby. -he said, wiping his tears away and rubbing his wet hands off his jeans, -I’ll leave you now, because it’s obvious you don’t want me here. I’ll come later again, love you so much princess.

She opened her mouth to talk, but Luke was out the door, and he stopped to look at her from the window, but she pretended as if she’s looking out the other window in the room.

-If you loved me, you could’ve at least stayed. I don’t want you to go. -she whispered through her tears. It was the most painful feeling of her life, listening to him say that she doesn’t want him. She wanted him. And it hurt her more and more, knowing he’d done something beautiful for another kid. But he sacrificed her life, and happiness. The part with the girl at the bar, stayed as a question mark in Y/N’s head.

Y/N’s dad had a talk with Luke, and when he explained everything that happened, he couldn’t only be on his side, rather as a father, he took Y/N’s side first, then giving the right to Luke.

-The choices you make in a relationship, you make for you and your loved one. A relationship is led by two people, and whatever they decided, it should never affect only one person. I know how much you love my daughter, it’s all written in your eyes kid. But I love her more than any other guy could ever love her. She’s a part of my soul, and even if one fiber gets damaged of her, I’ll ruin this world. Make up with her, please, I don’t want to see you grieving for each other. You’re a great couple, and it’s really sad to see her alone in that room over there.

It stayed with him the whole day, those words by Y/N’s father. He sat on his bed, and the only thing that couldn’t make him so helpless was writing. He took his music notebook, and started writing what he felt towards the girl, who was now being begged to eat. It worked after a few tries, but she was able to put some proper food into her system. Alex, Reggie and even Bobby came to visit her. Though, there was a girl waiting at the door; the same girl from the bar.

-Who’s that over there? Why is she standing alone?

-It’s my girlfriend, Rose. -said Bobby.

-Ah huh. -she said, a sigh of relief was supposed to follow, but instead her heart relaxed, knowing Bobby probably wanted the boys to meet her while they’re there.

After they left, not too long after, Luke came as promised. This time, he really came, together with his guitar, and bags of fruit he bought.

-You parents said you can’t have any tough food, so I thought your favorite fruits are a great idea. -he left them on the table, and sat down next to Y/N’s bed.

-You came. -Y/N said, holding back a big smile. He looked really handsome, even though he didn’t even try to. It was what had her attracted to him the most at the moment.

-I came to sing you to sleep. -he said, and positioned his guitar. Y/N slipped down to her laying position, and patiently waited for him to start singing. When he did, she realized that the words are completely new, and unknown to her, which meant he wrote them freshly. And he did. He wrote her a song, about how he’s sorry and if he’d take back the time, he’d fix everything, but still remain the Luke she loves.

After he finished, Y/N applauded and rested her hand on a writing, carved onto his guitar.

-Why ‘Y/I’ (Y/I= your initials)? -she traced it with her fingers.

-For Y/N Y/L/N. My Y/N Y/L/N.-he smiled.

Y/N sat up and rested her back against her pillow, as few tears fell down her face, quickly wiping them away so Luke doesn’t notice. He still thought she was mad at him, with the right to be, so he nodded his head and sat up to leave the room, just like he did earlier, although this time, it wasn’t clear if he would come back again. Y/N swiftly lingered her fingers onto his, and it gave her life; his touch.

-I-I need you...Let’s make up. -she said and swallowed her tears. Luke slowly spun around and sat on the bed. She cupped his face and wiped away his tears, as he did the same, resting their foreheads on top of each other.

-I’m sorry Y/N. I’m sorry for doing the same mistake again. Please forgive me and give me the chance to make up to you. I love you so much,

-It’s fine Luke. It all was gone with another day. Let’s focus on the ones that are coming. I love you too, so much. And the song was beautiful, I can’t even explain to you.

-Yeah? Well, since we made up and sang a song, you must now eat at least one orange, okay?

-Okay fine. -she said lazily, and Luke managed to peel one for her. She made a sour face when she tasted it, and Luke placed a kiss to her lips, getting a taste of its bitterness and making a face as well, which made her laugh. For the first time since the day before, she managed to remember what laughing feel like. As well as crying, and going through pain, all because of the one boy, she loved with her entire life. Mutually getting the same love, from him; her Luke Patterson.

#luke patterson x reader #luke patterson #jatp fandom #julie and the phantoms #fantoms #luke x y/n #jatp series #jatp imagines #luke patterson jatp imagines #luke patterson imagines

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hungarianbee · 3 years

Text

sightless but steady

A/N: I wanted to try my hand on Warritt the All-Seeing for a while now. Writing a blind character who’s not *really* blind is both fun and a challenge. I have a lot of feelings about the Viper witchers, and so I snuck a lot of headcanons (about Ivar, Warritt, Letho, Auckes) into this piece. You can read about them in detail at the end of the fic. TW for: mention of non-descriptive torture

It is a relatively quiet night at the Blood Gate Keep. The young adepts went to sleep hours ago, safely tucked away in their quarters. To the average witcher, Gorthur Gvaed lays dormant, echoing the silence of its occupants.

But not to Warritt. In his room, the Viper bundles himself in furs, sitting in front of the lit hearth with his back to it. The fire’s heat seeps into his bones, touching his exposed neck, and he tilts his head back into the sensation. To him, the keep always feels just a tad cold. It’s nothing, compared to the Bear’s Haern Caduch or the Wolves’ Kaer Morhen in winter, but the Vipers’ mutations keep their temperatures lower than the other school’s.

As he flicks his fingers, his magic activates the Supirre Sign again, keeping it steady with years of practice. Just like that, the night comes alive around him.

Beneath the sound of the firewood cracking, he notices that there are rats in the walls again, scratching at the stones with their tiny claws. He makes a mental note to alert Evil-Eye to their presence later, then moves on. A floor beneath him, Gerring of Kharkiv is playing with his knives, just as usual. The fast tack-tack-tack reverberates in Warritt’s ears as the knives embed themselves in the wooden surface of the upturned table. A mouser’s yowls break it up, and he pushes the Sign further, taking note of the steady heartbeats of the snakelets. As he concentrates, he feels several that are too fast to be asleep. Auckes, he thinks. And Letho.

Warritt shucks his furs, taking one with him and folding the rest on his unused bed. With a reverse Igni, lowers the temperature of the hearth, leaving the wood smoldering. The smoke of it settles in his barely open mouth, sticking to his palate. Throwing the fur over his shoulder, he opens his door, just as Ivar Evil-Eye takes a corner in his direction, the scent of blood and iron trailing after him like an avenging wraith.

Up until this point, the Viper Grandmaster was pacing his office, as was his bad habit, then changed course, and took a detour around the Keep to the snakelets’ sleeping quarters. To air his head, most likely, and to make sure that everyone was safe. That Letho was safe. There is a lot of weight on the witcher’s shoulders that he refuses to share with them, he knows. Some days, when the pacing gets agitated and Warritt can hear his rapid breathing when he talks his way over an issue, he thinks that this will be Evil-Eye’s end. A fire can only burn bright for so long without kindling.

“Master Evil-Eye,” he greets quietly.

The thumping of Gerring’s weapons stop. A shift of skin on fabric as the man looks up, breathing carefully steadied. He’s listening. Warritt minimizes his Sign to the palm of his hand. He’s been told the yellow glow is quite noticeable. “Anything I can help you with?”

Evil-Eye shakes his head to himself, but breaks the motion midway. A heavy sigh. “I can’t deal with the brats tonight,” he admits. His tone is weary. Warritt tries to imagine what his expression must look like, but it’s been too long and the visuals appear murky in his mind. Something that might match the scents of frustration and fatigue. After all, Evil-Eye doesn’t have to hide from him; he can’t see. Then, the taste of ash ignites, becomes spicy with rekindled rage. “Did you know about Letho of Gulet?”

He can’t even finish the sentence as Warritt flashes his fangs at the leader. The hiss that leaves between his teeth rattles in his throat. “No! I would have stopped Daibesyck. Any of us would have. And you know that.”

In his rise of emotion, his Supirre sputters out. He casts it again with one hand, the other going up to rake through his curls.

Evil-Eye stands still, like a statue. Then a new tension enters his shoulders, and he turns away. “I’ve dealt with Daibesyck,” he states. Disdain colours his voice. “The worm wanted me to thank him. To acknowledge what a marvelous achievement he did, finding the perfect subject for his little successful experiment.” He breathes through his venom. “I paid him in kind. He stopped screaming a few hours ago.”

Warritt’s face tightens, even as dark satisfaction courses through him. He knows. He heard. But it wasn’t aimed at him; it’s a confirmation for their little eavesdropper. This time tomorrow everyone will know that they are one mage down.

“How’s he?”

Evil-Eye cracks his neck to the side. “He’s feverish, still. He asked for you.”

“Then I will be there.” And that’s that. Warritt lengthens his steps, taking the fur beneath one arm, the other still pulsing with Supirre. The Grandmaster matches him until they reach Letho’s quarters, where he lags behind, stopping just by the door.

The blind witcher makes his way to the bed. The scent of sickness leaves a sour note on his tongue, but that’s not his main concern. Because in this close proximity, he’s sure of it - Letho’s usual outline changed.

As he climbs into the bed he bundles the furs under Letho’s bald head, hoping that his own scent will ease the young witcher. A stone sits in Warritt’s stomach; last time he’s been in his presence, the kid had a crown of soft curls. His calloused hands slide on broad, impossibly muscled shoulders that emanate a heat that is uncharacteristic to witchers, then cup the back of Letho’s neck gently.

“Letho,” he calls, and the snakelet twitches under him, turning towards his chest. He can barely fit. A soft sound escapes him, almost a sob, and his hands come up to shield his still sensitive eyes. Warritt immediately releases his Sign to plunge the room in darkness, shushing him. “It’s Warritt, bud. I am here, just as you asked.”

“Warritt,” Letho parrots back, slurring. Without the Sign, Warritt is not prepared for the fingers prodding at the heavy scarring by his eyes, but he lets it happen anyway.

With impossible strength, Letho pulls Warritt down and curls his arms around him in a constricting hug. Warritt stifles his wheeze, breathing through it, and he presses closer still, wrapping himself around the kid as much as he can, tucking him under his chin and tangling their legs. One of his hands comes up to squeeze Letho’s nape. The pressure seems to calm the young witcher, and he mindlessly bites down on Warritt’s leathers on his shoulder, just to hold him still. Warritt notes absentmindedly that Evil-Eye slipped away when he wasn’t paying attention.

They stay like that for a long time. Eventually, Letho’s breathing evens out, slipping into an uneasy sleep. His muscles twitch and release, and Warritt rearranges them so he’s plastered to the snakelet’s back, hugging him tightly, not minding the cold sweat.

“Auckes,” he calls softly. He hears the creak of soft leathers in the rafters as the boy shifts warily. He drops down, landing without difficulty.

“Bloede,” the little snakelet curses in Elder, silently but with feeling. “How did you know I was here? You didn’t even use your Sign.”

“Language,” Warritt chides. “You were so loud I could hear you from a tower away. You were lucky Master Evil-Eye was in a cordial mood, he would have had you for breakfast.”

“Not true,” Auckes sulks.

The boy’s radiating disbelief warms him. He gestures with one hand, beckoning, and Auckes slips onto the bed, curling over Letho. The boy shakes a little and Warritt scents the residue of distress on him, so he presses a warm hand between his shoulder blades, drawing slow circles.

Auckes presses into his touch, then blurts out. “If I asked you, would you shave my head?”

Warritt doesn’t stop his motions, despite his surprise. “Why would you ask that?”

For a long moment, Auckes doesn’t say anything, just clenches his fist in Letho’s sleeping shirt. He smooths the soft material between his fingers anxiously. “Letho cried ,” he whispers it like a secret, and his tone belies his astonishment. Letho never cries. “He saw his reflection, you know.”

“I don’t know, Auckes,” prompts Warritt gently, lying through his teeth. “Why would he be upset because of that?”

“He’s big. And bald. He tried to hug Serrit and hurt him. Twas an axi-” he trips on the word in his haste, then tries again, slowly. “Ac-ci-dent. He didn’t mean it, I know. It scared him. And Serrit said that he wasn’t mad, so it’s okay.”

Warritt hides his sad smile, endeared by Auckes’ sharp perception and big heart. “Aye,” he breathes.

Another beat passes between them.

“I want you to cut my hair, so Letho knows it’s okay, too. That he’s not alone.” Auckes’ voice is so very small, like the breeze in Tir Tochair’s sheltered meadows.

Warritt’s throat constricts. His fingers follow the thin braid that hangs on each side of Auckes’ face, then cards into his soft ponytail.

“Alright,” he rasps. “Alright.”

--------- * ---------

Note: Auckes canonically can speak really good Elder. The little curse word “Bloede” can be translated to “bloody hell”.

Headcanons:

Warritt is the big-brother of the keep - he’s both a blind badass and the resident kidwrangler (and everyone clearly knows it)

Warritt is a genius - this is kiiind of canon, but regardless: he has an unorthodox thought process; he likes thinking outside of the box, and that’s how he isn’t bothered by his blindness and modified an already existing Sign (Supirre in canon; and also Igni in this fic)

Vipers are not shy of physical touch, on the contrary! - a little bit of cutagen here; Vipers like to coil up together in almost constricting hugs. Even those who haven’t gone through the Trials adopt this habit; the physical touch (hugs) is something they can claim as their own good thing

Letho went through the Grasses twice, like Geralt (aka twicegrassed) - compared to the rest of the School, Letho is an outlier. I explained his proportions with him surviving the Trials twice

Ivar was unaware of the further experimentations, and he flipped - a hc i adopted from @lookoutrogue. Ivar himself went through multiple Trials, that’s how he ended up with his mutated eye. My throwaway mage OC, Daibesyck was tortured to death because he went over the invisible line Ivar carved, hurting one of his own and disrespecting his authority

Auckes shaved his head in solidarity for Letho - originally i thought he would have done it when he was older, but tiny Auckes said no, i wanna do it now

Gerring of Kharkiv wasn’t supposed to appear, but he didn’t budge. So I guess now he’s an insomniac old witcher who likes to waste time and furniture with knife-throwing *shrug*

#my shit #the witcher #warritt the all-seeing #ivar evil-eye #letho #auckes #gerring of kharkiv #school of the viper #continent cake shop #little auckes made me cry #tell me what y'all think #i'll crosspost this into AO3 in a bit

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neokids · 3 years

Text

Fortune's Fool: Act VII

Masterlist

Act VII

Tw: Lots of blood, character death, violence, murder, guns, knives, weapons, foul language, self-inflicted wounds, suicide, overall graphic content

In just a span of a few days, whispers have already spread. At first, it was only suspicions that it wasn’t something natural or a person but the bible repeating itself. People started to believe that it was something like 10 the plagues of Egypt, this time happening in Seoul.

Then people started to see things.

Couples who had their afternoon strolls reported seeing a slimy creature dive into the Han river. Some Viper workers said they had heard low growling and grumbling noises they thought came from the machines, but when they turned it off, the bizarre noises only grew louder. Fishermen who worked late at night reported to see silver flashing eyes in the water. Perhaps the most terrible “sighting” would have been near the Poculum. A customer was passing by with the intentions of having a drink late at night only to see a panting, struggling creature near the garbage disposal. It was unnatural for sure, the shadow it cast resembled nothing like the creatures and animals that walk the face of the earth today.

“It has eyes of the devil, mama!” Yeji heard the little boy in front of her exclaim. They were currently waiting in line to get hot buns from a fast food restaurant. Yeji watched the boy as he excitedly told his story to his mother, guessing he had heard it from a playmate. “The monster had a spine as sharp as knives” The boy added, causing his mother to look at him disinterestedly. There have been numerous deaths added from the original incident, causing people to speculate. But the more people talked, the more the truth has been twisted.

Yeji would have brushed off the rumors, ruling it as a way to keep children frightened when they were being unruly. But the fear people have been feeling is very real, their lives were in danger. There must be a reason to why people had started talking, speculating.

“Nonsense.” The mother scolded her child, as she fiddled with her bracelet. The mother was obviously scared as well, hearing her son's stories did not help whatsoever.

“They say it is like a modern day dragon!” the boy added, not even bothering to listen to his mother, “It attacks the gangsters at night when it smells their blood. It hides in the shadows, waiting for the perfect time, then boom! It attacks.” The child said, his hand motions accompanying his exaggerated story.

The mother could only look and sigh at her son, “It is not only the gangsters who are dying, nae adeul,” The mother paused, looking at his now terrified son. “No one is safe now.” She continued as she placed a hand on her son’s shoulder.

That’s one comforting mother alright,

The son suddenly stopped in his tracks. He looked at his mother, fear replacing the jolly expression he had before. “Am I going to die, mama?” The boy asked.

“Of course not.” The mother said in a defensive tone. She quickly got the two bags filled with steaming buns in front of her and left, with her son still quite scared.

Who wouldn’t be in a time like this?

As they left, Yeji couldn’t help but stare at their disappearing figures. A child, no older than five, was already worrying about whether or not he would live another day. A child like him should be worrying about what flavor of ice cream he should get, or what he should play with his friends. He shouldn’t fear for his life. How much time did they have left until the city of Seoul became nothing but a mass graveyard?

“On us, miss.”

Yeji snapped out from her train of thought to see a bag already in front of her, filled to the brim with steaming hot buns.

“Everything for the princess of Seoul.” The old baker said with a smile. Yeji took a better look at the place, then at the old man in front of her. The bakery was very old, to the point where you could see loose wires everywhere. The man in front of her was also very old, it looked like the bakery was all he had. The only reason why Yeji was here in the first place was because Lia wouldn’t stop bugging her about trying the famous steam buns in Hongdae.

“You have a family, ahjussi?” Yeji asked as she took the bag, the man’s face lighting up immediately.

“I do! I have a lovely wife I come home to everyday and five children! Two girls and three boys!” The baker answered as he perched his elbows on the window.

“I see,” Yeji paused as she took something out from her pocket, it was a red envelope with gold lettering. The man’s face grew in shock. “No miss Hwang, it is in the house! We have been affiliated with the Vipers for a long time now and I owe everything to them. Please it is okay.” The man said as he pushed the envelope back.

“No, please do take it. You have worked hard enough.” Yeji said as she placed the envelope in the baker’s calloused hands. With a smile, Yeji left.

As she browsed the streets of Hongdae, she couldn’t help but let out a breath of relief. She was relieved she was able to have a few hours to herself. She had just finished visiting the drug den her father had sent her to, and it was more boring than she thought. She expected a top secret lab, like the ones she would always see in movies. Only for her to be greeted with a smelly and sketchy apartment. When she had collected the money, the man passed it to her half-asleep, he too looked high on whatever he was on that moment. She had only been there for a solid 30 seconds and her duty was done for the day. Hongdae was filled with lovers taking their strolls, family spending some quality time together, friends on dates, and native weirdos too.

“The end is near! The world is going to end! Jeremiah 11:11! There is only one cure!”

Yeji grimaced as she tried to quickly pass the man. She tried to cover her face in hopes of not getting seen by the shouting man, but to her misfortune, the man had locked his eyes on her. The man started to head her way as she quickened her pace. She thought he had lost the man following her, only for him to suddenly jump in front of her.

Does this man not know who I am?

“Salvation!” The man screeched, causing Yeji to freeze in her tracks. The man flailed his arms in the air, as if he was waiting for someone to pick him up. “Spread the word of salvation, miss!” He exclaimed as he took another step towards her.

Yeji was quick to back away, she was getting weirded out by the old man, “I’m not that religious, sorry.” She decided unsure on what to say, the man’s eyes suddenly grew wider until it could pop out from his socket anytime.

“The doctor can give us a cure.” He said. “I’m not quite sure a doctor has found a cure yet,” Yeji said carefully.

“The doctor saved me!” The man further added. This time, Yeji wasn’t sure if he was referring to doctors, or a particular doctor.

“Hey you know what, a doctor saved me too.” she said as she placed her hands on her hip. “I was like what, seven years old?” she continued, amusing herself now. “I bumped my head on my mother’s picture frame and let’s just say she was worried more about the picture frame.” She said, remembering it like it was yesterday. “Ever since then, I started eating apples.” Yeji said as she looked at the man, waiting for him to catch her joke.

“Because you know…” She trailed off, the man only looking at her in a blank manner. “An apple a day, keeps the doctor away!”

The old man only stared at her. He looked at her like she was speaking some sort of foreign language no an on earth had ever heard of.

“Corny joke?” Yeji asked, speaking Korean a bit more slowly for the man to understand. “Come on, an apple a day keeps the doctor away, right? Come on, I deserve a chuckle at least.”

The man groaned and stomped his foot, signaling for her to take him seriously.

“The doctor is only one person.” he hissed, his face contorting into a weird facial expression Yeji couldn’t quite figure out. “A person of great passion. He gave me the cure and I am now immune to this madness. An injection! I am supposed to be dead! When my friend had clawed himself and lay dead next to me, I should have been next! But I am here! Alive and well!”

Yeji took another step back, one she should have taken before the man had started talking.

“Good for you,” Yeji said, thinking of an escape plan. “But I, uh, have places to be.” Before she could turn around, the man had already grabbed her wrist.

“Salvation!” The man screamed, “Only the doctor could bring salvation!” She quickly jerked her hand back away from the man as she hurried off.

She took sharp turns every now and then, making her route in a dark alleyway. She passed by groups of men who seemed like they were all ready to kidnap the next person they see. She passed by men throwing knives at each other, she also passed by a group of women aiming their guns at each other, but she was not scared. She was in her territory, she was above all.

Just as she was in the middle of another alleyway, Yeji immediately stopped to the feeling of a cold metal pressed against her neck. She knew it wasn’t a threat of any Viper, no Viper dared. Her mind ran wild, thinking of all the possible people who would try such thing,

Until a familiar voice had said: “Don’t make a sound. Keep walking, and I won’t shoot.”

The feeling of uncertainty immediately was replaced by the feeling of rage. Did he really wait for Yeji to enter an isolated place? Until she was far from the crowd? Did he really think that would work on her?

“You don’t know me as much as I thought you would.” Yeji said quietly, maybe Jeno didn’t know her at all when they were still friends. Maybe he never really cared to know about her. Maybe he just agreed to be friends to get information from her, and he did.

“Walk,” Jeno demanded.

Yeji stood still. As she planned, Jeno thought she was scared and so he eased the press of his gun against her neck. She slowly brought her hand to trace Jeno’s gun, her sudden caress took him by surprise. From his gun, her hand trailed to his own. Touching his long fingers, to his prominent veins. Her touch was light and held no danger whatsoever,

Or so he thought.

She whirled around, faster than Jeno could even process. In a blink of an eye, she had already slapped the gun from his grip causing it to drop on the floor somewhere. She had bent his arm in a way no arm should be bent. She had him quickly pinned to floor, her legs on both sides of his hips with a knife pressed to his throat.

“Let’s try this again, shall we? Like normal civilized people.” She breathed. Jeno too was trying his hardest not to breathe too much, or else his throat would come in contact with the knife. His dilated eyes narrowed at her, as he took a breath.

“Normal civilized people?” He mocked her tone, his voice a bit raspy. “You have a knife pressed against my throat.”

“You had a gun pressed against my neck.”

“Does it look like I have a choice? I’m in your territory.”

Yeji glared at him as she pressed the knife further into his skin causing a drop of blood to appear.

“Stop! Stop!” Jeno flinched. “I’m sorry.”

With one quick motion, Yeji could have sliced his neck open. She had been dreaming of this for four years, she was almost tempted to give it a try. Although she was fighting all thoughts she had of killing him, one thought had crept up in her mind.

Jeno still smelled like he used too. He smelled like smoke and mint, with a hint of his perfume. Noticing this particular detail made Yeji think how possible it was for everything and nothing to change.

“Well go ahead then,” Yeji prompted, “Explain yourself.”

She could feel Jeno trying to fight, but with one press of her blade, he would stop. She could track his every movement just from the tip of her blade.

“I needed information,” Jeno managed.

“Surprisingly.”

His eyebrow arched, “If you let me go, I could explain.”

“Well let’s see…” Yeji said, pretending to think. “How about no? I prefer if you explained like this.”

“Oh, Yeji”

Click.

The sound of someone pressing the trigger echoed all throughout the alleyway. Yeji looked to her left to see the gun she had disabled a while go still in its position. She looked back on Jeno to see him smile, his smile was almost mocking.

“Did you really think I would only bring one?” He asked in a teasing manner. “You don’t know me as much as I thought you would.” He added, mocking her. Famous eye smile a contrast to his actions.

The feeling of cold hard metal suddenly touched her waist. It was as if the gun had started to burn through her clothes and made its imprint on her skin. With no choice, Yeji had to remove her knife against Jeno’s kneck. They both stood up and in unison, put their weapons away.

“The man who died in the Poculum,” Jeno began as he dusted his polo shirt. “Do you remember his mismatched shoes?”

Yeji rolled her eyes, she couldn’t believe she was actually having this conversation with the Jeno Lee, then nodded.

“I found the other shoe in the Han river the other day, the same spot where the first men had died,” He continued, “I think he was able to escape, only succumbing to the madness the next day, in your club.”

“Impossible!” Yeji denied, “What kind of science is–”

“This is no longer in the fields of science, Yeji.”

Her hands had quickly balled into fists, bunching up her blouse in the process. Jeno was really on a whole other level of stubbornness when he was focused on something. She let out a sigh as she closed her eyes,

“What do you want?” She asked, opening them again to see Jeno’s serious expression.

“I need to know whether or not if he is indeed the same man. I need to see his shoes, see if they match, if they do, this madness might be even contagious.”

Contagious,

Meaning to say that the man who had died in her club, his blood spraying in a room filled with her people, might be infectious. If that was the case, the Viper Gang is in huge trouble.

Yeji’s panic started to kick in.

“Maybe they were in some type of cult,” Yeji suggested without much persuasion. “Maybe he didn’t want to be apart of whatever they were doing, only for him to decide that he actually wanted to a day later.” But she had seen the terror of the man during his last few moments, he couldn’t speak but his eyes told everything Yeji needed to know.

Oh dear God she knelt beside the man, looked him in the eyes, and asked him what caused it. What were the chances of her getting infected?

“You and I both know that something’s not right here.” Jeno said, breaking Yeji’s small panic attack. “By the time this has alerted departments, many more innocent people will have died.”

Jeno accidentally realized what he had said, causing him to fall silent. Yeji stared at him for a while, her gaze blank, void with any emotion.

“As if you care,” She said quietly, almost inaudible. But he still heard her. “About innocent people dying.” She looked away from him in case he could see the slight water in her eyes.

Every muscle in his body tensed.

He inhaled sharply, “Fine,” he paused, “My people.”

Hearing it from him definitely felt worse. She let out her breath she didn’t know she was holding and turned around.

“Move.” She said, walking away. Only this once would she allow herself to help him, she needed the answers too. “The morgue closes in a few hours.”

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sloppy-butcher · 3 years

Note

e, n, o, and w for adam francis??

thank you for the request anon <3 its my first time writing dam and i must say THIS MAN NEEDS MORE LOVE, he’s got alot of potential

;;edit, pls no more fluffy alphabet request thank you :)

Fluffy Alphabet for Adam Francis

Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

It would be assumed that Adam would take the dominant role in a relationship determined solely on his perceived mannerisms and outward personality. During trials and in polite conversation around the campfire, he appears to be a very confident man, moving forward with the stride of someone who knows what they should do and how best to do it. He credits this to his uncle, a rigorous man who prioritized discipline over anything else. Having had this mindset installed since early childhood, Adam unknowingly portrays his uncle’s philosophy in every word he speaks and in every action he does - by all accounts it would be assumed that he liked to be in control. However, as softness is introduced and you watch as he bends to your affections, it becomes blatantly apparent that he would do anything for you.

Never had he had anyone as gentle and willing to love him as you, a constant sunlight-beacon in his otherwise dull and draining existence. You gave him your heart in every instance of every day, each time so openly and wholly that it always surprised him. How could someone love so totally? How could someone love HIM so completely? Thus he molds to your whim as the wind does to stone, moving around so as to best to accommodate you and your interests. He wants you for sure and he knows that if he wants something he should fight to keep it. But you weren’t resisting him, you weren’t a fight for him to struggle with. So for once he is passive and likes it when you take the reins and fight for him.

Nicknames - What do they call their s/o?

Being such a close part of him, Adam would feel obligated to call you by all the household nicknames he was called back from his childhood. He would feel the need to mix past and present and introduce you to how he was shown love all those years ago. His uncle, though a strict man, was not completely devoid of affection and often indulged Adam and called him rather strange and weird nicknames.

His favorites you are are ‘Sunny’, ‘Blossom’ and most definitely ‘Peaches’ - the fruits were such a sweet delicacy, and referring to you as such a fond memory makes him feel fuzzy inside. You certainly were as lovely as those peaches, warm and sun-kissed, beautiful in both looks and taste.

On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

It is obvious right away when he starts blowing up generators. Normally the man was an unstoppable force, unfaltering as he saved everyone and fixed machinery. But when you started to occupy more and more of his mind, Adam found it harder to concentrate. It would be his close friend Yui who first notes his odd behavior, raising her eyebrow when he’d stumble or trip over his own words. Adam is like an open book to her, a nerd unable to act his way out of any situation - he is predictable to a fault and she knows right away that something is up.

The others catch on quickly (with the encouragement of Yui from the side-lines) and collectively they all watch as Adam tries to work up the courage to ask you out. It was quite a spectacle with some of the survivors taking bets as to whether he’d self-combust before he’d even manage a single word out to you. The watching crowd were all shocked however when finally he made his move -

It was a most ordinary evening, cooling off from a tiresome day out in the work field running for your life from maniacs with knives when suddenly the peace is disturbed and the feigned tranquility shatters. You feel something troublesome approach you from behind and hesitantly to turn to face it. In the place of what you expected to be a monster was instead a most wretched sight - it was Adam. He looks smaller than he normally is, his shoulder buckled inward as if in an attempt to pull away into his imaginary shell. Your trepidation melts as you see his hands fidget nervously, his gaze never once plucking up the courage to meet your eyes. He exhales loudly and suddenly stands up straight, surprising you with his spontaneous confidence. He manages a brief, timid glance at your face and says, “Would you... care to... be my partner?” His strange request left you only puzzled at his wording and not so much as the question. You did like him and the idea of getting, even more, closer to him made your heart flutter in anticipation. When Adam catches your confused look he mistakes it for rejection and starts murmuring in disjointed Japanese. ‘I’m sorry. God that sounded so stupid! I’m so stupid!’, he says to your untrained ear, unaware that not only did you not understand him but also that he was starting to accumulate a crowd. It went on for several more minutes, Adam’s unscripted performance before Yui stepped in. She slaps Adam hard on his back causing him to cough and regain some of his composure. She gives him a gentle, sympathetic expression and turns to you.

“What he means to say is that he likes you. Like a lot. And he is worried that you don’t like him back which is,” Yui rolls her eyes and punches Adam again making him wince from her strength, “ridiculous because you do.” He freezes at her words.

“I do.” You repeat, stepping closer to him with wide, pleading eyes. You see Adam reel backwards in wild disbelief. “Like... a lot actually.” his expression is a wordless ‘really?’ and before he could move you leap forward and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. He’s stiff as a board, unsure whether to hug you or push you away or to just... stand there. Eventually his better sense takes over and he eases into your embrace, allowing himself to foolishly give in to your advance. From somewhere far behind, a crowd cheers and a disgruntled Ace hands Nea a purple flashlight.

Wild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Having a polyglot for a boyfriend has its benefits and that mainly includes being complimented in many different languages!

Adam often serenades you in Japanese, leaning over to you from across the generator and complimenting your outfit or repair skills. You manage to pick up a few words thanks to his many lessons but Yui is always nearby to translate his more fluffier and personal haiku. He blushes like a mad freak when you beckon her over, sometimes he regrets speaking such sweetness to you in words you could not understand. But he determines it all worthwhile when he catches that expression of love bursting onto your features.

He successfully makes you blush with every compliment. All of his utterances carry his thick, nauseating Jamaican accent like badges of honor and it makes your knees weak whenever you hear it directed towards you. It really is a wonderful thing, that voice of his, smooth and dark like chocolate. It was intoxicating and swooned you to the point that you had to sit down.

Bonus! If you are of a different ethnicity to him, Adam takes it upon himself to learn as much as he can about your heritage and culture. He reads everything he can get his hands one, talks to people of similar background and even pesters you for questions about your life. He’s like an excited puppy whenever you’d offer yourself for answers, bouncing around with a notepad and pen (where exactly he found these items is open for debate). He tries to learn your language as well, asking you to repeat certain phrases over and over again until he successfully memorizes your tongues linguistics. When he finally has it down to the ‘T’, Adam pulls you to the side and whispers in your ear how much he loves you in his newly acquired language.

#i hope i wrote him ok #this man lowkey has a lot of potential #dbd imagines #dbd x reader #dbd adam francis #dbd adam francis x reader

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weclassygirl · 4 years

Text

𝐃𝐞 𝐨𝐦𝐧𝐢𝐛𝐮𝐬 𝐝𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐦

Word count: +5.8k

Pairing: santino d’antonio x f!reader

Warnings: none

Author’s note: hello everyone! uni is completely figured out yay! also i’m thinking of taking a small month or so break from writing, want to focus on some other projects that i have in mind. hope you’ll enjoy this part. english is not my first language so beware. take care love <3

dulce periculum series: ... 04 / 05 / ... / 07

Gif credits (x)

You pack your bags in a hurried fashion and with a bit of nervousness. The Elder wants to speak with you. The man that sits above the High Table. You pack every necessity, clothes, guns, coins, not much, you don't plan on staying there for too long.

You reach under your pillow to take out the knife hidden beneath it. It's handle is engraved with a beautiful design, the silver of it shines in the faint stream of light and the green and blue elements make it look royal. You stare at it for a while, admiring the build of it. The thin blade is sharp and reflects in the light.

Santino walks up to your room and leans against the door frame, watching you holding the dagger he gifted you. You don't hear him coming to your room, he stands in the doorway, waiting for the right moment to make himself present.

He knocks lightly on the door and you quickly turn in his direction. The hand that holds the dagger falls to your side, he looks at your bed and sees the bag filled with clothing and every necessity you would need for your trip. He walks up to you, that stoic attitude replaced by that soft expression you often see whenever both of you are alone.

“You don’t need to go.” he says as you put the knife into the bag.

"I have to, I don't have much of a choice." you inform him going to the wardrobe to grab a few shirts.

"Of course you do." he says back, his eyes focused on your face. "You’ve spent two years here without him wanting to speak with you-"

"But it’s the Elder," you cut him off. "he sits above the High Table." you turn to him, your own eyes focused on his emerald ones. There's a worry and question filling his features, he wonders why you're complying to the Elder's wish. You look at him and sigh, turning your gaze back to the bag. "We both knew that this day would come sooner or later." you say in a defeated voice.

You hear a faint shuffling and see Santino moving closer to you from the corner of your eye.

"Let me come with you at least." he pleads softly. You look up at him, your eyebrows drawn together in a sad frown.

"You know you can’t. The Adjudicator strictly said that he wants to see me alone," you say, remembering the Adjudicator's words. "no other parties involved, even one of the Heads."

You detach your gaze from his and move to the small bathroom and grab some toiletries you would need, toothbrush, comb etc. You come back to the room seeing Santino who's moved closer to the bathroom. His eyes follow your every movement. You finish packing as Santino hangs his head down and sighs.

"I guess I won't be able to convince you otherwise, right bella?" he smirks faintly but the smile doesn't reach his eyes. You say nothing, he already knows the answer. "Very well, but take the plane. It will at least ease my mind to know that you got there safely." he takes your hand in his, gently going over your knuckles. You learned that he started doing that sometimes out of boredom and sometimes as a form of reassurance.

You place your hand on top of his and hold it there until you speak up, your quiet voice carrying through the small space between you.

"Alright… and you don't need to worry too much, Sofia is letting me stay for the night before I go to the desert." you don't know Sofia personally but always admired her in the movies. The Adjudicator told you that you'll be staying at the Moroccan Continental before your departure to the desert. Santino looks at you wearily but nods and let’s go of your hand. You smile at him faintly, reassuring him that you’ll be fine.

It’s not that he thinks that you’re not ready, he knows you're capable of pretty much everything at this point, but it still puts him on the edge. Your own version of the Impossible Task made him believe that you can withstand anything, that you're as much capable as the other guards.

Santino leaves your room and your eyes follow his figure as he disappears behind the door. You sit down on your bed, looking at your lap, thinking of every decision you've made in the past two years. Saving Santino, joining Camorra, making a name for yourself in this world. And now a meeting with the Elder, a man that could no doubt easily kill you in a matter of seconds and wouldn't even get any blood on his robes. You decide not to ponder much about it and finish packing.

The airport is relatively quiet, the only sound that can be heard is the engine of the plane. You see Spirto and Sonya waiting for you at the hangar. Sonya comes up to you and hugs you tightly.

"If something happens, call me, I still have some contacts in the city." she says to your ear and you chuckle.

"I'm sure that won't be necessary." you pull away and see Spirto watching both of your interactions. His hair going in every direction and the bags under his eyes tell you that he spent another night wide awake.

During your time here you've gotten along the best with Sonya and Spirto, their cheerful personalities really helped you not feel so miserable at Camorra. Spirto puts a hand on your shoulder.

"As Sonya said, if you need anything you call us, I'm sure Andre would be against it but what's life without a little danger." he tells you with a grin spreading on his lips. There's that glint of madness twirling in his eyes. You nod at them in thanks and see a figure behind them.

Santino stands with his hand in his pocket, a bag waiting by his side. Sonya and Spirto give you a knowing look and you have them in the ribs before they can say anything further. You move towards the Italian.

"If you're here to try and change my mind, it won't happen." you say to him, he smiles and reaches for the bag at his feet.

"Believe me I won't do that, I know you made up your mind. I'm here to give you a small parting gift." he hands you the bag and you look at him suspiciously, you don't look in the bag but see a dark material crumbled up inside.

"Be safe, bella." he simply says. It's not a goodbye, you only go there for a few days, you'll be back in a blink of an eye.

"Always am." you say, he looks at you with expectation and you step closer to him as you hear the pilot announcing the departure. You kiss the Italian briefly on the cheek and place a hand on the other, Santino closes his eyes momentarily before you pull back. Both of you look at each other, feeling as if there's something more to say.

You turn to the plane and climb up the stairs giving one last look to Santino. Sonya and Spirto already left the hangar. You enter the plane and the hostess closes the door behind you. You go and sit in one of the chairs, placing your bags beside you. You see Santino through the window and his silhouette becoming a dot as the plane begins to move.

You relax in your seat, already planning to sleep through the flight when you remember the bag Santino gave you. You take a look inside and pull out a dark material, a jacket and suit pants. You see a tag saying that it's made by Angelo. The same Angelo you've seen making a suit for John when he visited Rome in the movies.

The suit itself is custom made as you realize, small threads of blue and green embedded into it. There are multiple small pockets inside it, some of them already containing thin knives, the fabric itself is the same bulletproof one you've seen John wear.

You look at your window and smile, deeply thanking Santino for this gift. During your stay at Camorra he's only given you two gifts, a dagger and a necklace. He gave you the necklace when you visited Naples with him during one summer. You've been walking around the city streets, him telling you about where everything was, and even some of the stories the streets held. You saw a stand with jewelry in the corner and decided to go up to it. You saw a beautiful thin silver chain with a green stone in it. Santino saw you looking at it and decided to buy it when you didn't see. He gifted it to you at a beach when both of you were returning from the city. You've been wearing it ever since.

You smile at the memory and hide the suit into the bag, deciding on putting it on later. You make yourself comfortable in your seat and quickly fall asleep, the hostess wakes you up as you're about to land in Morocco. You exit the plane and decide to walk into the city, deciding that you're gonna have to find the Continental on your own. Walking through the market and the alleyways you're met with Yassin, the man that you remember guiding John and also somewhat saving him. Both of you cross the street filled with people to enter a luxurious open space.

"Welcome to the Moroccan Continental." you see people scattered around, belly dancers performing in front of the clients and various alcohol being passed around. It's nothing like the New York or Rome Continental. Yassin leads you to a secluded room, away from the lobby.

"Ms. Al-Azwar will be with you shortly. Best of luck Ms. Jade." he says bowing slightly as he disappears behind the entrance. You look around the room and wait, you walk towards a small table and see pictures of Sofia with the dogs and her daughter. You hear a faint tapping of paws and see two dogs staring at you, bearing teeth. They growl at you and for a moment you fear that they will attack you when a woman's voice tells them to stand down in Arabic. The dogs calm down as Sofia approaches you. You stare at her with slightly wide eyes and smile shyly. Sofia looks at you with question in her eyes. You're surprised she's not pointing a gun at you.

"Sorry, I just- you've been one of my favorite characters since I watched Parabellum." you say quickly and feel her stare at you. You feel like you may have said something wrong but she only chuckles, the slight tension dropping from your shoulders.

"I guess what they say is true, you are from a world where all of our lives are a movie." she says. You smile and look around the room, it's dark, beautiful rugs laying on the floor, gold ornaments laying around. Sofia gestures to the couch and you take your seat, the dogs following and sitting on both of your sides.

"We're gonna be meeting with Berrada?" you ask, thinking that you would have to go to him as he used to be the previous manager. She pours water into the glass and heads to the couch giving you one of the glasses.

"No, it's not necessary. You already know that one way or another you would have to go to the desert." she answers and you nod along her words.

"Yeah, I suppose." you sip on your water when Sofia asks you another question.

"Why did you save him?" she looks at you, wonder in her eyes, confusion even. You put the glass on the table.

"I knew that if John killed him then that would be followed by consequences. Excommunicado, the whole world would be trying to kill him, he would call in for the Marker he has on you. Just a lot of awful stuff, for him at least." Sofia looks at you with a cold attitude but her eyes did go slightly wide at your mention of her marker.

She looks you up and down and leans in closer.“But that’s not everything, is it?" she questions. You straighten up in your seat, your head held high as you listen to the manager's next words.

"There are rumors about your connection to Santino. Some say that you’re his private bodyguard - closer than Ares even - that you’ve saved him and made up that little story cause he informed you that John is after him. Some even say that you only saved him so that you can warm his bed at night.”

You scoff at her statement. For people to think those things are beyond you. You knew that some may not believe that you're not from this world, but to make up those kind of assumptions… “Do you believe those rumors?”

Sofia crosses her legs and leans back slightly. “Not really, but no one truly knows you, except for Camorra." you look at her, her eyes fill with questions. Sofia tilts her head to the side, wondering out loud.

"People are curious… and I can see from a mile away that you care about them. The Camorra, Santino.” you listen to her, your cheeks feeling a bit warm. You compose yourself quickly and just shrug.

“Well, they did let me stay with them and not wander around New York, just waiting to be killed.” the manager looks you up and down, examining your face, she squints her eyes and lifts the corner of her lips. “Yeah, that’s the only reason.”

You look at her with wide eyes and your blush grows, you chuckle nervously. There's a comfortable silence hanging between you two, you can hear music and people outside laughing and speaking in a language, still a bit foreign to you. One of the dogs decides to come closer to you and put his head on your leg. You look at him and back to Sofia, silently asking for her permission. She nods at you and you put your hand on the dogs head, petting it lightly as he closes his eyes. You smile, feeling at peace for a moment.

Yet that small moment is interrupted as Sofia stands up and the dog averts his eyes in her direction.

"Come on, I'll show you to your room.” you stand up and reach to your pocket preparing to take out a single gold coin and give it to the woman. Sofia looks at you and shakes her head. “There’s no need for that, your room has already been paid for.” you look at her confused but follow nonetheless.

You assumed that Santino would have paid for your stay at the hotel, but you truly hoped that he wouldn't have to do that. You earned your money and you wanted to use it, to make yourself feel that you fit into this world. You reach the door and Sofia hands you the key, she leaves you alone in front of the door, bidding you goodnight. You enter the room and are met with a lowly lit room, columns decorating the open space, maroon carpets feeling soft underneath your feet.

You head to bed and drop your belongings near it. You quickly spot a bathroom and shower, desperately in need of sleep after a tiring journey. After you exit the now steamy bathroom you go to lay in your bed. You sigh as your face meets the soft pillow, your body immediately relaxing. You turn on your side and look at the high ceilings, thinking what the Elder might want with you.

As far as you know he rules this whole world, he is the person that you don't question twice. You knew that one day you would have to face the consequences of your actions. You saved a person that was supposed to die, someone that stood high on the food chain. Your mind briefly slips to Santino and you reach for your phone texting him a short message that you arrived and are safe. After a few seconds you hear a soft ping and see a message from the Italian. "That's good to hear. No trouble I hope." You reply with a confirmation and your brief interaction with Sofia. "Rest bella, a long day ahead of you tomorrow. I'll stay in touch. Take care." He responds.

A short message that for some may seem not that much caring, but this is Santino, his way of showing emotions and concern is different. Small affirmations like this show that he cares about his people, that his family means more to him than anything… well, maybe except power.

You put the phone away on the nightstand and close your eyes, feeling yourself drifting away to sleep and your heartbeat slowing down with every passing breath.

The next day you drive with Sofia to the desert, you sit on the passenger seat as the dogs sit behind both of you. You drive through the desert that doesn't seem to end. The sand creates a dusty smoke as the car drives on it, the sun shines brightly above you and you mentally prepare yourself for what's about to come.

You stop in the middle of the desert and Sofia takes out a bowl and water for the dogs. They drink it rapidly, clearly thirsty. Sofia passes the bottle to you, a bit more of the water inside than what John had when he came to the desert and without the spit.

"I hope you don't die here." she says to you. You look at her again with confusion.

"You don't even know me, why do you care if I die here or not?" you question, squinting her eyes at her as the sun shines on both of you.

"I can see a fighter when I meet one, and you have that spirit that this world so desperately needs." she tells you and you wonder at her statement. People die everyday in this world, be it by an open contract, broken marker or a rule, or even a classic revenge. For a moment you think about your future and for how long you'll be able to survive in this world. You turn to Sofia, her eyes expectant, the tattoo on her neck showing up from behind her hair.

"Sofia." you nod at her, raising the bottle up.

"Jade." she nods in return and gets into the car, the dogs follow her. You see her drive away as she becomes a time dark speck on the horizon. You begin to walk.

You seem to be moving for hours, sometimes feeling as if you're going in circles. The day slowly turns to night, the sunset greets you along with a breeze that moves the sand. You don't stop walking, knowing that stopping would be even more dangerous in these conditions.

The morning sun rises after a few hours and you reach for your bottle, trying to satiate the need for water. You stop yourself as you remember that you shouldn't be wasting it, every drop is precious in this desert. You keep on walking, the day once again turning into night. You feel yourself grow weaker, not eating in days, only surviving on the bits of water. You lift up the bottle only to find it empty and you feel yourself loosening balance on the sand and tumble down the sand. You don't have the energy to stand up and lay against the warm sand as the night turns darker, the stars and the moon start to shine high above you.

You wake up feeling a light breeze moving your hair, a soft material lays under your hand, completely different from the hot sand you recall falling asleep on. You open your eyes slightly and see a pair of shoes far in front of you, white robes concealing them.

"Drink." says a male voice, his accent visible and his voice rough.

You reach to your pockets inside the jacket when you hear the man speak up again. "Don't worry your weapons are still there. Please drink." you get a sense of deja vu. You reach for the small red glass beside you and drink until it's empty. You look up and see the Elders gaze hanging onto your frame, his dark eyes meeting yours as you stand up on wobbly legs.

You go straight to the point, not wanting to prolong your stay here. "Why did you want to meet me?" he acknowledges your question and shows amusement on his face. Surely he's used to people speaking and answering to him with respect, but you're not sure what to make of him yet. The Elder doesn't seem to be bothered by your tone.

"Your appearance has created a disturbance in this world." you listen to him, the wind flowing through the open tent. His whole presence seems so calm and yet it has a certain hidden edge to it. "You being here is dangerous on it’s own."

You draw your eyebrows in worry. "Dangerous how?"

"You know what happens." he says simply, clasping his hand together and putting them on his knee."It may not be in the very distant future, but you possess a knowledge that endangers some people. With you now working for Camorra, that knowledge had only expanded."

You were made aware of the dangers that would fall upon you when you first arrived in Italy, the Council and Santino made sure to tell you them. You've already encountered some of those dangers, being held at a gunpoint multiple times, kidnapped in need of information on other organizations, someone even tried to push your car out of the bridge into the river that you were passing by. All of those encounters however, were unsuccessful. You only got out with some scratches and scars going into your growing collection.

"And you’re probably one of those people that feel endangered." the Elder doesn't answer you, instead he changes the topic of the conversation.

"I do hope that your stay at the Continental has been pleasant." he says and you move to answer him when a thought crosses your mind. You thought that Santino has been responsible for your stay at the hotel, but now it makes sense. His voice even indicates that he meddled with your stay there. Realization falls upon your face and you stare at the man in light robes.

"You have questions." a simple statement, he doesn't waste unnecessary words. That reminds you of a certain someone.

"Plenty, but right now only one comes to my mind." you say looking only at him, the rest of the people in the tent forgotten. As if only the two of you were occupying this space. The Elder nods at you as a sign to continue.

"Why wait two years?" the same question you asked an Adjudicator. But you need to know the reason and who's not better to get it from than the source itself. He looks at you as if he was expecting that question and you're not surprised. You hear his accented voice carrying through the tent.

"You needed to adapt to this world, train to become stronger, to be ready to face challenges that will lay ahead of you." he stands up from his seat and moves closer to you, his steps light, quiet. He looks down on you, studying your face. "You’re confused."

You shake your head slightly and look him in the eye, his dark eyes never once leaving yours. "I’m not, it's just…" you hesitate answering, trying to find the right words. "If you wanted to see me train you could have easily just gone to Italy and get me, tell Santino that you will be overseeing my training." you explain, thinking of all the possibilities he could have got to you.

He had all two years to do that. To take you to the desert, train you as one of his people, explain you everything and yet he didn't. You examine his face, wondering what he's thinking and you see him lift up the corner of his lips.

"What makes you think I don't plan to do it here?" you draw your eyebrows, your mind reeling with questions. You open your mouth to speak when he interrupts you. "Walk with me."

The Elder moves by you and leaves the tent, you quickly follow him and try to catch up. He's not the person that would be waiting for someone. The rest of his tribe doesn't follow, they stay in the same seats they sat on throughout the whole exchange.

Both of you walk in silence through the desert and his tribe. You see people walking around in light, flowy robes, the wind carrying through them. You see people training with sticks and even notice a tattoo on one of their hands as it clashes with the person they're sparring with.

Up ahead you see people meditating, far from the tribe, seeking silence and peace, away from the others. Only with their own thoughts.

"I have heard about your abilities," you hear the Elder speak up from beside you. "you have an extensive knowledge in languages, fighting, your skills are admirable. Not many people go through such a hard training in Camorra and get to see another light of day." you hear praise in his voice, something to be proud of. You squint at him, the sun seemingly shining brighter.

"Doesn't the same rule apply here?" you wonder out loud. He listens to you, his eyes glancing at you every now and then. "You sit above the high table, you definitely have selected individuals that were trained even harder than at any organization."

"Yes, but I am the one that chooses them." he admits and you sense that there's more to his statement then he leads on. "You are aware of this, that I am the one choosing who to speak with when people search for me in the desert for days. You were no different."

You look at him questioningly. You stop in your track, feeling the hot sand beneath your feet, the heat getting to you. It doesn't seem to bother him as he's adjusted to the unbearable weather.

"How? You wanted me here."

"Yes, but I also needed to see how much you would endure out there. Just because I demanded your presence here didn't mean that you wouldn't have to fully earn it."

"By sending me out to the desert just to see if I survive." you tell him, not a question in your statement, more of an observation.

Both of you turn back to the tent, seeing less people and that others from the training mat long gone.

"You've been through much worse I assume, that small test only proved that you're capable." you enter the tent and the Elder takes his place on the seat at the head of it, his legs placed on each other, the golden ring on his finger glowing in the sunlight. You can even make out a silver of a watch beneath his sleeve.

You stand there wary, not knowing what to expect. "Capable of what exactly?"

The Elder breaths in, his shoulders straightening and it somehow gives him a sense of power. More power and authority than before, like finally he's the person that so many respect and even fear.

"Joining our ranks." he simply says, not a doubt in his voice. You look at him, your eyes going wide and soon you start to smile, small chuckles escaping past your lips.

"You want me to work for you?" you quip up. You look around and see the people surrounding him sitting quietly and listening. You're certain that they could disarm you in a matter of seconds. The Elder doesn't say anything, only studies your reaction. You compose yourself and your face becomes more serious with every passing second.

"I already work for Camorra."

The Elder shrugs, though the movement is invisible. "Who says you can't do both? You can serve Camorra and the High Table. Simple as that."

A moment of silence passes between you, you consider his proposition. Camorra is a part of the High Table but working for the Elder himself would be completely different. You thought that working for Camorra was signing a deal with the devil but it turns out that he was that devil all along. You look at him, worrying about the words you're about to speak but don't show it on your face.

"I'm guessing that if I don't agree then you'll just make me excommunicado or kill me the moment I say no." you question, the man says nothing once again, he doesn't need to, you know you're right. You sigh in defeat.

"What do I need to do? Cut off my finger to prove my loyalty to you?"

"That won't be necessary, however I'll need you for various of tasks. For now you'll be staying here for your training."

"What about Italy?" you wonder.

"Mr. D'Antonio will be informed of your stay here." he answers you, his eyes gleaming in the desert sun.

"How long?"

"A month. I'm sure you're a fast learner, we don't need more time to teach you our ways."

Our ways. You wonder what that might entitle. You've seen the High Table mercenaries work already, their movements careful, quiet as if they're a part of the shadows. You've seen them work effortlessly, them not sparing anyone in their path.

"Your ways?" you ask him. He seemed to expect that question out of you. His rough voice carries through the small tent, you feel a presence behind you, a person to probably stop you if you refuse completely. Your eyes quickly turn to the Elders.

"Standard training, new methods and techniques. You've seen what people of the high table can do." he informs you and you look around.

If you agree it will mean that you'll have to sacrifice a month of your stay here. Adjusting to the new climate, leaving Italy without a proper explanation. For a moment you worry what the Guard might think, what Santino might think.

Would he see you as if you've lost your interest in Camorra? Or maybe he'll acknowledge that you seek to gain knowledge and more experience?

"Alright…" you sigh and see the Elder holding his chin up high, his lips turning upwards, a clear sign of victory. "When do we start?"

It’s been almost two weeks since you’ve started training in the desert. Throughout those weeks you've been training with the other people here, some of the ones you've seen when you first got here, gone. Probably sent on a task ordered by the Elder. The man himself oversees your training, telling you new ways of fighting everytime he sees that you've done something wrong in his eyes.

The training is brutal but you expected it. You've started to meditate even, the Elder told you that in order to control your body you need to first control your mind. The meditation didn't work at first cause your mind couldn't stay quiet but eventually you got a hang of it.

The Elder reaches you new weapons, fighting styles, how to be quiet on the feet and even poisons. You've learned that he dabbles in various forms of martial arts and science.

You're still wary of him, not sure what to make of his character. He seems calm most of the time, reserved but he is also the one that sits above all. You don't trust him enough to have a friendly conversation with him, even though you speak to him nearly every night.

Currently you're fighting with one of his people as he watches the sparring match. You fight with sticks, yours are now broken in two after your opponent broke them in half with his stick. You duck the men as he charges at you, swinging him off his feet, he quickly stands up. Both of you circle each other when you advance at him, he blocks your first strike but doesn't expect the other to his leg. The man collapses clutching to his now broken knee. You look towards him and then at the Elder, he nods at you and you step back. The man on the ground already being taken to a medic.

The Elder crosses the hot sand to you as you take off the wraps from your hands, some spots covered in already dried blood from your knuckles.

"You listened." he tells you. When you first started your training he told you about techniques you can use in fights, that was one of them.

"Yes." you shortly respond, you're tired and it's only the beginning of the day, you still will have to train later, meditate and such.

"But you focus on the weak points of the body, rather than expecting the opponents moves." he continues. His eyes moving over your features, he sees your skin glowing due to exposure of the sun.

"I thought that was the point. To see the opponents weak spot to fight them off more successfully." you say, your hands starting to go numb at you knuckles, already feeling the pain of the bruises spreading on your body.

"You are right, but if you expected what he would do, see where he places his foot, on which side of the body he relies on more, you would have ended that fight quickly." he informs you. You nod at his explanation, his words making sense yet you still by your decision on the fight.

"I'll keep that in mind." you tells him and turn to the tent to see a medic to help you with bruises and cuts on your hands. The Elder's eyes follow your figure as you disappear behind the tent's entrance.

That cycle goes on for another two weeks, with you training and even sparring with the Elder himself, meditating and learning more and more each day. You study poisons from all over the world, techniques that you've seen Zero using in the movie. The Elder is impressed by your improvement, you asked him once to send a letter to Santino but you're not sure if he really sent it. You still haven't received a reply.

Your stay in the desert shows how much you can improve in a short amount of time, you've gained muscles, knowledge and even respect. People sometimes whisper behind your back about your Impossible Task, no one - except the Guard and Santino - knowing what truly happened there. But those people tend to keep to themselves most of the time, their whispers behind your back being a rare occurrence.

After another exhausting day you drop onto your bed and fall asleep, dreaming of a pleasant warmth of Italy and not the scorching one of the desert. Your nightmares still make themselves present, but due to your meditating they've been not as frequent.

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chaoticevilbean · 3 years

Text

So, there’s this whole Youtuber Atla Au, and I have Stuff stuck in my Head. This is Sokka-centric bc thassa me.

Here Goes:

- Sokka has a mixed channel. He does educational videos, how-to videos, political videos, stories about him and his weird friends, dancing and singing videos, makeup videos, parkour videos, etc. He’s a very well known account.

- He uses fake names/obscure nicknames/code names for anyone he mentions. Anyone featured in his videos either wears a mask/facepaint or allows him to say their real name. He uses only they/them pronouns unless the person is with him and has given him other pronouns to call them by.

- He has never mentioned his name, refuses to be called Boomerang despite someone suggesting it because “that’s a disrespect to boomerangs, please don’t”, and he responds to commenters asking for his name with “;)”, “:)”, and “...”

- People only know he’s a male because he put that in his first video

- Sokka always wears facepaint in his videos, and absolutely no one recognizes him. He is unidentifiable. His continuous need to wear contact lenses and wigs of varying styles and colors also messes with people. No one can figure out what Nation he’s from (there are all four in this AU).

- Sokka has seven different facepaint styles he’ll wear.

- - Earth Kingdom is just Kyoshi Warrior facepaint. Someone attempted to drag him for disrespecting a elite warrior and all-female team. The Official Kyoshi Warrior account responded with this and only this: “Back off, he’s ours.”

- - Southern Water Tribe is based off their traditional warrior paint and La. Northern Water Tribe is based off of Tui and wolves.

- - Air Nomads is brown and blue arrows and flying lemur markings around his eyes.

- - Fire Nation is based off of Agni and the Painted Lady. It’s simple with red and yellow markings, and the accents will either be black (if he’s talking about something funny), blue (if he’s talking about something weird), or white (if he’s talking about something cool). People had to figure out those meanings themselves.

- - The Spirit World is based off of Hei Bai and Wan Shi Tong, a black, white, and grey style.

- - The blended one is cut into six sections. Fire and Air are the top two, taking up his forehead and creeping into his hairline. Water and Earth are on the bottom, bleeding down his neck. The Spirit World and nonbending sections are on his eyes. For those, he does fox markings on both sides, and the Spirit side is colorful like many of the minor Spirits are (bugs and birds and others). The nonbending side has normal fox colors, and the edges of all sections are blended together.

- - Each mask has a different meaning, which wasn’t figured out until later. If something is about a story, then it will be Fire Nation or Water Tribe. If the story includes strangers, then it will be Fire Nation, but if it’s mostly his pre-established friends, then he’ll have Water Tribe. Any sort of performance is Earth Kingdom, unless he’s doing it with someone else, which is when he wears his blended one. If the video is instructing in any way, it’s Air Nomad. If it’s a political video, he will always have his Spirit facepaint on.

- Most people assume he’s Air Nation because he seems nomadic. He’s constantly talking about new friends, his backgrounds change every video and he speaks all the languages one could possibly learn.

- As a Note, there are all four Nations. They all have different languages. There are formal and informal of each language (or common and high-speak). There is also the General Common, which is the language basically everyone knows so they can communicate with other nationalities. Air Nomads have many different slangs depending on where the nomads are from, but only one central language. They don’t have formal or informal.

- Sokka’s most viral video is called Secret Tunnel. He met some nomads and they taught him to use their instruments at an amateur level. He then asked if they wanted to record a video with him. They said yes, so he recorded them singing and dancing to the song, and he joined in on guitar (or whatever the stringed instrument is called in that episode). The video ‘solidified’ that Sokka was from the Air Nomads.

- Things people know about the channel and the Friends (called ‘Boomeraang’, though no one seems able to figure out why - most pass it off as a typo, but true fans know Sokka pays too much attention to his work and his boomerang)

- - Lady is either related to Sokka or as close as a sibling. They’re a master waterbender and extreme activist. They’re constantly starting rebellions and protests and getting into trouble through that. They have once impersonated a Spirit in order to get rid of a corrupt company that was polluting a river and then got the nearby fishing town to work together to clean said river. Lady got their education in waterbending after beating “an old coot in battle, didn’t have much to learn but Lady needed ‘finesse’ or something.”

- - Kuzon is Lady’s SO. They were friends first, SO’s second, and Sokka had to endure the pining. Kuzon acts older than they look, and uses extremely outdated slang. A video with Kuzon in the background as Sokka told a story confirmed the fact when Sokka asked “What did you say to Bluey?” “Flameo, Hotman!” It is assumed that Kuzon is a bender, but no one knows which type. Kuzon once threw a raging party because his school was really strict. The entire student body was invited and the cops were called, but no one got in trouble because they weren’t breaking any laws.

- - Bluey is either a nonbender or a firebender. Sokka’s stories are unclear on that, but one thing is clear: Bluey is a vigilante. And works in a tea shop. And holds some sort of position of power somewhere. It varies from “Bluey stopped a drug ring this month” to “Bluey’s uncle told them they can’t work the night shift because they haven’t slept” to “Bluey just passed a rule saying no drinks during meetings. They’re just mad that I kept slurping my cactus juice.”

- - Bandit is an actual criminal, but also holds some position of power. They are blind, maybe, and an earthbender. Apparently the greatest earthbender in the world, but that could also be Rocky. Bandit scams scammers, usually ones on the street that can’t call the police because they’re also criminals. They’ve made a lot of money that way, and Bandit uses the funds for a combination of food and taking Sokka shopping since he helps them. Bandit also fought in an underground earthbending tournament and won the title every time. Sokka says that the reason behind Bandit even going there was that their family was awful and somehow thought they were fragile, so they learned how to ditch their escort and vent their frustration via illegal fighting ring.

- - Rocky is a king. And insane. And friends with Kuzon and some old people. Nothing else is known, besides they’re a bender.

- - Bison. Is maybe an actual bison. Is Kuzon’s best friend and they’re constantly kissing everyone and messing around with Lemur. Lemur is flighty and loyal and like lychee nuts. Not much else is told, but they’re in many stories and the wording is weird enough that no one can tell if they’re animals or humans.

- - Wheaty was a real jerk when they all first met, and the group all left on bad terms. However, when they met back up, Wheaty was much nicer and was trying to be better than they originally were. They had to go to therapy to help with anger issues and were recovering well when the group reunited. Gurl (Sokka makes sure to spell it out for the viewers) is one of Wheaty’s best friends, having been there for the other through everything. Yuyan was in a similar boat, and was usually the ‘voice’ (Sokka would laugh at that, before continuing as if he hadn’t) of reason. The trio were all very nice and helpful, and had some other friends that Sokka met and hit it off with. Mini-Me was someone who was smol and idolized Sokka. Big Man always traveled with Mini-Me, but never once stopped them from following Sokka around.

- - Warrior is a nonbender and is the one who taught Sokka to fight with fans. They also educated him on toxic masculinity, getting rid of the sexism ingrained in him (*note, in this AU, Sokka wasn’t as sexist, due to being exposed to a few more people and the internet, and therefore finding more female idols. Suki helped him stopped what was left, because he still struggled and wanted to be better). Warrior is about 30% of Sokka’s impulse control, which is still a large chunk considering how many impulses he has. They have been in a few videos wearing an entire robe and mask get-up, and spoke once (1) when they told Sokka that Knife and Ballerina were head over. It was the middle of a video about how to fight with fans.

- - Princess, Knife, and Ballerina were a trio that could rule the world. Princess probably would’ve turned out awful if they hadn’t left home with their uncle. Knife hated any sort of protocol, but never seemed to show emotion. Both they and Yuyan were people that had to be observed to understand their emotions at any one point. Ballerina was happy, a gymnast, a yoga instructor, and a nonbender. It is assumed that Knife is a nonbender who uses only knives and Princess is a master firebender, but there is speculation.

- - Roller and Pusher were best friends. Roller was in a wheelchair and Pusher always pushed them. Roller was incredibly intelligent and often helped Sokka with inventions, while Pusher was a skilled earthbender who used more finesse than most.

- - The Moon is mentioned once and never again, and everyone wonders why he mentioned them in the first place (when discussing what he’d done while Lady battle for her education “I hung out with The Moon”).

- - Most likely to appear in a video are Roller, Pusher, Bandit, and Gurl, all in masks. Bandit’s they can’t possibly see through, but they walk like everything’s normal.

- - Most likely to be off-screen in a video are Kuzon, Bluey, and Lady.

- - Most likely to be mentioned in a video are Kuzon, Bandit, Bluey, Lady, and Warrior.

- Things that are known about Sokka:

- - He learned Earth Kingdom formal from Bandit and informal from a combination of Friends and observation. He learned Fire Nation formal from Bluey’s uncle and Bluey occasionally slipping into it and informal from Kuzon and some colonists he met. He learned the dialects of the Southern and Northern Water Tribes from The Moon, Lady, and Lady’s family. He learned Air Nomad from a variety of monks and people like Chong and Lily.

- - His parkour skills come from a combination of his Friends’ illegal activities, chaotic antics, and just a dash of bad luck.

- - He learned fighting from practically everyone he’d met, and observing them or having them teach him. He hadn’t actually wanted to learn to fight with fans or knives, but Warrior and Knife had taken one look at him and told him he had to or else. In fact, the only weapons he wanted to learn to use were a sword, a club, and his boomerang. He learned the first from Rainbow Father, the second from Bi Father, and the third was self-taught. Everything else, he posted videos as he learned new skills, and also told the varying stories of how he was coerced into being taught. For example, Ballerina insisted on teaching him chi blocking, a very obscure form of fighting, and would randomly use it on him until he agreed. They always undid what they blocked immediately after, but it was still annoying to randomly lose use of both arms.

- - Sokka’s Boomerang is deadly in his hands. He does not know this. During a livestream, Gurl snuck in after causing a distraction outside of the room he was in and read it off someone’s comment. They informed the viewers to never bring it up because Sokka didn’t know and if he underestimated his Boomerang, than everyone he used it against would, too. And that led to hilarious situations.

- - Sokka is a genius and inventor who has several patents. However, no one can find him through them, mostly because he didn’t want any attention when he put the items out into the open. He invented submarines and airships (people had no use for them before, but found they were incredibly useful when Sokka got everything patented and got a sponsor). He also invented cactus juice, which is as mentally impairing as alcohol with none of the lasting physical effects. Bandit loved that one.

- - Sokka has seemingly been everywhere. He’s mentioned meeting the Spirits Hei Bai, Wan Shi Tong, and the Moon and Ocean Spirits in passing. (*while wearing the Spirit facepaint* “I mean, I get that the Spirit World seems great and all, but I’ve been there. Not that exciting. Met Hei Bai and had to be rescued. Don’t see the appeal. And there isn’t a single bathroom there.”)

- - Can dance pretty average, but knows a lot of different styles because of various Friends. Can also sing and whistle well, and usually hums Secret Tunnel while doing parkour. Most of his music videos include other people, minus a few where he was asked to demonstrate his instrumental skills. He, again, is average and only knows the different instruments because people decided he should learn.

- - He is amazing at makeup. Every person he brings in to do (mostly people who aren’t seen again on the videos) leaves with stunning work done.

- - He can draw and paint, but he didn’t start off good. He started doing instructional videos based off articles and lessons he found. His viewers learned with him, and he’s improved greatly. He’s also prone to adding random rainbows to his landscapes, even in the black and white ones (it starts a trend of usually colorful things done in black and white, or in a way that’s more appealing to colorblind people).

- - Sokka wants to get rid of patriarchal societies and old men with problems. He fully supports his Friends’ protests and rebellions, and is likely to have cohesive arguments backed up with verifiable evidence and trustworthy sources.

- - He loves terrible jokes, and knows they’re terrible, but that’s the point.

- - He’s theorized to be in a position of power because once King Kuei and his bear Bosco walked on-screen from behind (Sokka was at a park and had his Earth Kingdom facepaint, so he definitely wasn’t expecting anyone to come), spotted Sokka and looked absolutely delighted, came straight over and hugged the boy from behind while he was explaining a move with a club. King Kuei said nothing, just hugged him until it was returned, let go, and waved goodbye. Bosco did a similar thing before following his owner. Sokka just continued the video as if nothing had happened, so it seems that he’s used to being around heckin’ royalty.

- Boomeraang gets a lot of hype and Sokka does sell merch and earn money, but only sells what is specifically requested. Someone requests he make t-shirts with his channels logo on it, he starts selling them, and doesn’t stop until there aren’t any more demands. Spoiler, there’s always demands. He tries to tell them he doesn’t want to take their money, but he almost had a riot when he suggested not selling anything anymore because he felt bad.

- The Gaang knows about the channel and talk about it a lot. Sokka had planned to keep it small, anonymous, and just have fun with his catch-all videos. He’s 2/3 at this point.

- Katara has her own activist channel, and considered making a second as the Painted Lady and use Sokka’s rep to eventually boost her, but decided against it. Her channel is called ‘Freedom Water’, based on the fact that water is the element of change. She has a moderate following.

- Toph has her own channel as well, which consists of Sokka holding the camera for her and videotaping her as she performs complex earthbending. She calls her channel ‘roc’. Her following is mostly other earthbenders who aren’t too proud to learn from a preteen, and other kids who think she’s cool. She also has a channel called ‘Bandit’, which is just her in the mask she wears for Boomeraang, telling all about different ways she’s scammed scammers, occasionally also showing videos of those instances. Sokka is her cameraman there as well, and will sometimes go on-screen with his facepaint. That channel has a large following because of Boomeraang. Toph is actually good at not slipping into the wrong nicknames or giving away genders.

- Aang has a channel called ‘The Temple’, which is almost solely different animals he spots. Some people try to say that he isn’t at the Air Temples, but he just laughs and ignores them. It drives people insane and it’s just accepted that the name of the channel is misleading. He has a small to moderate following, mostly animal enthusiasts, and the others are nature enthusiasts.

- Zuko has a channel followed by only theater kids and wannabe theater kids. He literally put ‘Title’ as the name, and uses his videos to rant about different plays and a lot about how the Ember Island Players botch the best of shows.

- Jet has an official channel for his Freedom Fighters, which is now solely used for spreading awareness and raising funds for those who need help (orphans, abused people, and people affected by disasters). The group lost a lot of followers when they changed their tune from angry and vengeful to calm and actually trying to help instead of harm. However, Katara and Zuko both gave shout-outs to the channel, and Toph ‘mentioned’ them as well (*read: threatened her followers if they didn’t check it out*). Their following has grown and now has a very good rep.

- Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee share a channel called ‘Royal Three’ where they show off their skills. They have a large following.

- Teo and Haru help manage everyone’s accounts and Teo is the official Kyoshi Warrior technician by the time everyone is done. Both are paid by their Friends for the work and recommend the duo to literally everyone possible.

- The Kyoshi Warriors are extremely well-known. There was an uproar when Ty Lee was announced as an official Kyoshi Warrior. They post basic fighting tutorials.

#atla #sokka #katara #aang #suki #zuko #toph #kyoshi warriors #sokka is a kyoshi warrior #youtube atla #atla youtube au #boomerang #sokka's boomerang #youtube au #avatar the last airbender #avatar

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raveismysublime · 4 years

Text

I am attempting to right a fic

So I am re-reading ACOWAR and am at the part where Nesta and Elaine go visit Graysen to try and get him to help the humans or something like that and Nesta is beating up Graysen for hurting Elaine.

So my mind wanders and goes... what if Cassian was there to see this? and then.... what if Cassian saw this from his POINT OF VIEW!!!!!!! So I’m like let me write this,

I have never wrote fan fiction besides some Lunar chronicles shit on Wattpad and Lesbian smut (don’t ask, it helped with my sexuality tho) SO please don’t come at me if you hate this

I just really wanted this from Cassian's perspective, like watching Nesta be a bad bitch instead of a rude bitch ya kno? Idk but here yall go

I apologize in advance if this is shitty ( it probably will be, please don’t hate I love u guys) and will probably never right a fic again but ok enough talking here ya go

Im gonna be taking parts of ACOWAR and typing them in so it looks believable

**we’re gonna imagine that Cassian went with them for this to work okay**

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

“So only the rich and chosen will walk through the gates?” Rhys asked, arching a brow. “I can’t imagine the aristocracy being content to work your land and fish in your lake or butcher your meat.”

This meeting was going nowhere, thought Cassian as Rhysand argued with the close-minded human boy. The fact this pitiful man thinks his mere father and some iron were going to protect him and the human lands from Hybern’s wrath was stupid, laughable even.

How he was able to land a Archeron’s sister was beyond what Cassian could think of. For once, he would agree with Nesta on the idea of this marriage.

“We have plenty of workers here to do that.” so the little boy speaks. Cassian wanted to retort, he wanted to desperately put this pathetic weasle of a man in his place but bit his tongue. This was not his fight, this was Elaine’s and at the moment Rhysands. He would not intervene.

Because if he did intervene this whole place would come crumbling down and weasel boy and his father would be crying in their underwear.

But Jurian said to the lords, “I fought beside your ancestor. And he would be ashamed if you locked out those who needed it. You would spit on his grave to do so. I hold a position of trust with Hybern. One word from me, and I will make sure his legion takes a visit here. To you.”

“You’ll threaten to bring the very enemy you seek to protect us from?” Weasle boy said.

Jurian shrugged. “I can also convince Hybern to steer clear. He trusts me that much. You let in those people … I will do my best to keep his armies far away.”

He gave Rhys a look, daring him to doubt it.

We were still too stunned to even try to look neutral.

Cassian wondered if the elder lord might be the one who could actually be reasoned with. Especially as Graysen said to Elain, “Take that ring off.”

Elain’s fingers curved into a fist. “No.” Ugly. This was about to get ugly in the worst way—

“Take. It. Off.”

How humiliating, Cassian thought, to Elaine for everyone to witness this absurd man. If only he could reach around, grab weasel man by the neck, pin him against the wall and shove two of his knives into each of his balls-

That’s enough,” Rhys said, his voice lethally calm. “The lady keeps the ring, if she wants it. Though none of us will be particularly sad to see it go. Females tend to prefer gold or silver to iron.”

Graysen leveled a seething look at Rhysand. “Is this the start of it? You Fae males will come to take our women? Are your own not fuckable enough?”

That was the last of it that Cassian was willing to endure. Was this man stupid? He should not be alive at this very second. He should be drowned in crimson and tears.

“Watch your tongue, boy,” his father said. At Least he had some sense to shut his son up. Elain turned white at the coarse language.

Graysen only said to her, “I am not marrying you. Our engagement is over. I will take whatever people occupy your lands. But not you. Never you.”

Fucking bastard. To even speak to a women like this, to even dare

He was going to rip out his throat

Tears began sliding down Elain’s face, their scent filling the room with salt.

Nesta stepped forward. Then another step. And another.

Cassian watched her every move, every breath and the anger etched across her brow. He could do nothing but stare at her movements

He could do nothing but stare at Nesta

Until she was in front of Graysen, faster than anyone could see.

He watched her dress swish against her curves, he watched her fingers

Until Nesta smacked him hard enough that his head snapped to the side.

He made a sharp intake of his breath. He had only ever seen her mad, furious, bitching to him or any other male. Never, never had he seen her so calm and burning towards someone else.

To him, she was snarky and he snarked back

To this man, she was calm and collected as her eyes burned into his face. Cassian would have never wanted to be on the receiving end of that look.

She was devastating.

“You never deserved her,” Nesta snarled into the stunned silence as Graysen cupped his face and swore, bending over. Nesta only looked back at me. Rage, unfiltered and burning, roiled in her eyes. But her voice was stone-cold as she said to me, “I assume we’re done here.”

The power uttered in those words. The power in her

All Cassian could do was watch her. Watch her defend her sister to no end, watch as the poor boy looked into her eyes with fear.

Feyre gave her a wordless nod. And proud as any queen, Nesta took Elain’s arm and led her from the guardhouse. Mor trailed behind, guarding their backs as they entered the veritable field of weapons and snarling hounds waiting outside

He enjoyed watching someone else take in the brunt of Nesta’s words and actions. It was entertaining to him to watch another male be weakened by her. He could get used to seeing that quite often.

Nesta, Nesta, Nesta

He couldn’t help laughing to himself.

She looked so beautiful when she was angry, he admitted to a small part of himself.

Gods, this women.

-----

OKAY i know that was probably so bad but I tried? idk tell me what ya’ll thinkkkk i just really wanted this written somewere but admittidly it sounded better in my head haha

I am just craving so much Nessian stuff at this moment like I am going to BURST where is this book.

#sarah j mas #nesta archeron #acotar #acofas #nesta #high lady feyre #rhysand #acomaf #acowar #feyre #nessian #acosf #a court of silver flames

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thebiasrekkers · 3 years

Text

Make It Right [BTS Mafia AU]

Plot: “It��s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC

Warnings: Graphic Violence (bloody violence), Heavy Language, Angst, Slow Burn, Smut

Previous Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || Admin E’s WP || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 3,498

Tag List: @prisczero, @pinkpjmin, @btsaudge, @flowerwrites06, @unoriginal-username15432, @halussali, @shrimpmsg, @ggukkieland

AN: I have nothing. Nothing except for...I’m sorry... T_T

Chapter 58: Killer

“I’m not Buddha but I’m a butcher. I’ll cut away your skin like a...”

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Namjoon slowly slid the black cotton mask from his mouth and nose, waiting in the shadows of an alcove outside of the building. The small group of men he had with him, former Golden Jackals, huddled in the darkness. They were able to overtake the side entrance hours ago, before the crack of dawn. He made sure that no one of merit within the Jade Fangs would approach the designated area. Even if they did, Namjoon would have made it a point to subdue them completely. He would leave their bodies for the crows out in the muddy fields if he had his way.

But no, this was the moment where they would turn the tides. This was the beginning of the end.

We finish this today…

Lifting a cigarette to his lips, the orange glow of the flame licked at the end of the stick as a light crackling sound emitted itself from the contact. A few hushed conversations were going on beside him, to which he vaguely tuned in. They were out to prove themselves to the fallen brothers and sisters still imprisoned in the world they were forced to live in when adventuring into the light. But it was a life they deserved; a life they fought so hard for. Whether they lived or died after today, it would all be relevant to their future.

Pulling out his watch, Namjoon immediately flipped open the latch that covered the face. He was old-fashioned, so to speak, and a bit of a sentimentalist. Jimin teased him once about still carrying a pocket watch in this day and age, but how could he let it go?

It was a graduation gift Jungkook bought for him just before he moved to attend University in Seoul.

Time seemingly crawled; all of them were prepared to launch their first assault against the Jade Fangs. Namjoon already planned to be the first to cause the strike. He would need to ensure that the blast counted for something, otherwise it was all just going to get mucked up in the end. He would not have any screw-ups. Not while he was in charge of the first wave. Their offense was cut in half with Jungkook and Jimin pulled from the equation.

Pulling his ball cap down further on his head, he slipped the watch back into his pocket. Namjoon took one final drag of his cigarette, the smoke cloud billowing in his face and partially clouding his vision. However, in the shadows it seemed as if he were a dragon on the verge of breathing out a tremendous vortex of flame. One of the men approached him, nodding quickly. Namjoon grinned, his eyes narrowing slightly.

The gas line had successfully been cut.

“It’s time,” he said, his voice deep and commanding.

In sync, all of them slipped their masks over their faces. The cigarette fell to his feet and sparked with the faint light of its embers before finally dying out altogether. They could hear the approaching footsteps growing in time and Namjoon pulled out his hunting knives. As soon as they were in the right position, he disappeared and then reappeared at the front of the room which was in full view of the four different ways that many of the others could enter what was now to be viewed as their battlefield.

Now he had to wait for the show to truly begin.

Yoongi and his team were situated near the back of the factory, hiding in the thick brushes and reeds that were in desperate need of attention and care. Changkyun felt it wasn’t time to tidy up the landscape and that allowed for the perfect amount of camouflage. Namjoon already texted him earlier, telling him that he was in position with his team. Taehyung and his group were hidden within the factory, away from prying eyes. Once all the pieces were lined up, it would be his job to tip the first domino.

He couldn’t fucking wait.

Yoongi felt a dark smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. To think they’d spent the better part of three days planning this out. It almost seemed far fetched and he would never have gone along with something like this. Not until Namjoon convinced him just how solid this counterattack would be. Because they were using Changkyun’s ego against him. He may have broken them by taking their brothers from them and left them feeling demoralized from how thoroughly they’d been ruined. But what Changkyun failed to see was the very thing Hoseok kept hidden away from the Jade Fangs all these years. The thing that he made sure they all kept hidden from them.

Their very own malicious nature.

He felt a buzzing in his pocket and he pulled out his phone, eyeballing the screen. It was time for him to make his move. Slipping out from his hiding spot, he made a point to make as much noise as possible. He wanted to be found. He wanted his path impeded.

His men would remain hidden.

The shuffling of feet reached Yoongi and he was soon surrounded in a semi-circle by Jade Fang lackeys. Pushing his way through the small throng was Kihyun, a curious expression painted over his features. Yoongi pulled out a cigarette and lit the end, slipping the lighter into his pocket. He watched Kihyun place himself in front of him, his back to the window of the factory.

“You should really quit while you’re ahead, Yoongi-ah,” said Kihyun, a baseball bat draped over his shoulder, “those things’ll kill you.”

“My smoking habits should be the least of your concerns,” he replied, cigarette poking out from between his lips.

Kihyun laughed, shaking his dark chestnut bangs out of his eyes. “I thought the meeting agreement was for Hoseok to come. Why are you here?”

Yoongi scoffed. “Did you really think, after everything you guys have done, that we’d trust Hoseok to come here alone with just one of us?”

“And let me guess…” He watched Kihyun as he took a step forward. “…you’re watching the back in case we try to do something underhanded?”

“Nope.”

He tried not to relish in the frown that Kihyun gave him. The heavy thudding of his heartbeat only elevated the adrenaline pumping through his veins. Every square inch of him felt as cold as ice. But he could feel the fire pouring from his eyes.

Yoongi looked at Kihyun, his eyes shifting ever so slightly to the left. He saw the window slowly opening – silent. He would thank Taehyung later for oiling all the windows and doors on every side of the warehouse except for the front.

He pulled the cigarette from his lips, blowing smoke at Kihyun. Flashing his gummy smile, his eyes narrowed as he tilted his head back slightly.

“I’m in the back so I can blow it up.”

And with a quick flick of his wrist, Yoongi threw the cigarette through the open window.

The explosion that soon followed knocked them all back.

Taehyung’s back hurt.

He’d been perched in the rafters for hours – having arrived at the factory long before anyone else appeared. There was an almost methodical madness to how carefully he oiled all the door hinges and window panes that didn’t come from the front of the warehouse. He was wired from both adrenaline and caffeine, knowing full well that today would be the day that everything would end. He knew his brothers were on edge, both from the planning and from the unpredictable nature that he exuded constantly.

But he had to be. Taehyung knew that if they knew what truly ticked around in his mind, they would do everything in their power to keep him from coming along. They would have left him behind.

And he’d be damned if that happened.

There was a single skylight in the factory situated dead in the center of the roof. Taehyung’s team already made short work of the lackeys that tried to come to the roof earlier that morning. No upper tiered members of the Jade Fangs were on rooftop duty. Taehyung already made a mental note of where everyone else was.

Hyungwon and Jooheon were patrolling the left side of the building; the side where Namjoon and his team were. One of Taehyung’s team was already deep inside of the factory, following the blueprint that Namjoon gave him, taking him straight to where the main gas line was. Once he finished cutting the line, he was to head to the boiler room.

Kihyun and Minhyuk supervised the back side of the factory, in case they were flanked. Yoongi was there with his group. He was the “gunshot” that would start the race. He was the only one who would be able to catch them off guard. Besides, he knew that Yoongi was also a bit of a pyromaniac and wouldn’t have been satisfied if he wasn’t the one to set off the explosion.

Which left Shownu, Wonho and Changkyun on the inside. Hoseok and Seokjin were sent in not as bait, but as a distraction. Then it would be time to bring the entire building down on top of their heads. Blood would be spilt. Lives would be lost.

Taehyung would eviscerate them all.

The building shook violently, causing Taehyung to grip onto the metal rafters. He leaned forward; one knee pressed into the beam beneath him. Shouts of confusion were heard from below him and he flashed a manic grin where no one could have the pleasure to see. Screams of pain resounded as glass shattered from below, his eyes searching for Seokjin. He was already making his way around a set of crates, having swiftly dispatched several Jade Fang members during all the chaos.

More glass broke and metal doors were slammed wide open. Dozens of Golden Jackal members flooded the factory, tangling themselves in a fight. The glass covering from the skylight also shattered, raining down into the factory. Several ropes dropped from the ceiling and Taehyung stood to his full height as his team descended from the open hatch. Some dropped to the ground while others swung from their ropes, landing on top of unsuspecting lackeys. Blood spewed as knives plunged into bodies from both sides.

Taehyung ran, jumping out as far as he could and stretching his arms out. He grasped onto a rope, swinging around until his leather gloved hands allowed him to slide down. He shoved his body around, changing his trajectory in mid-air so he was heading straight for the manager’s office.

His legs extended out as he watched Shownu scrambling to his feet. Taehyung crashed his heels directly into Shownu’s chest, knocking him back. As he straddled the older man’s hips, he quickly unsheathed the large hunting knife from his back – aiming it straight for Shownu’s chest.

He grunted when Shownu used his arms to block the blow – their forearms crashing into one another. Taehyung’s arms shook violently as he tried to force them down, watching the blade getting closer and closer to Shownu’s throat. He could feel the capillaries in his eyes exploding, his vision blurring momentarily, before a scream erupted from his lungs.

Releasing one hand from the hilt of the knife, Taehyung punched furiously at Shownu’s rib cage. The older man attempted a counterattack, using his knee to slam into Taehyung’s back. The force of the blow caused him to fall forward and he felt Shownu’s fingers closing in around his throat. Taehyung continued to punch him even as he felt the air being choked from him.

He punched him one more time, using his fingers to dig into Shownu’s side. He buried them, like he was digging through mud for shells. He twisted his fingers and pulled, tearing through the fabric of the other man’s shirt.

Turning his head and leaning forward, Taehyung snapped his teeth into Shownu’s knuckles. He bit through the skin, blood spraying into his mouth. The older man screamed but he could barely hear it over the noise of battle being waged all around them. He pulled his hand from Shownu’s side, gripped his other hand, and put all his weight down.

The blade slowly buried itself into Shownu’s chest.

Hoseok’s knee crashed into the ground as Changkyun struggled to maintain his own footing. The two men glared at each other just as the noises from outside became more and more prevalent. Hoseok smirked as he saw Changkyun race to the window, peering out to the factory floor below. He managed to get back onto his feet just as the Jade Fang’s leader turned to glance over his shoulder at him. Hoseok took pleasure in seeing the snarl forming on the man’s face.

“You,” he snapped, turning around to face him again.

Hoseok dusted off the backs of his pants, his arms going up into a defensive stance as his hands curled into fists. “Yes. Me.”

Changkyun quickly raced to the other side of the room, his hand sliding under the table. Hoseok narrowed his eyes when he next turned around, a knife held in his hand. He scoffed. Maybe he would have been surprised if Taehyung hadn’t already told him what was hidden there.

“So, you expected me to come unarmed, but then have a knife hidden away?” Hoseok shook his head. “I’m so fuckin’ disappointed in you right now.”

“Shut-up!”

Changkyun ran at him, his arm striking out to slash at Hoseok’s neck. But he was faster because he was thinking clearly. He wasn’t about to let anyone stop him from accomplishing what he wanted to do on this day.

He dodged, side-stepping Changkyun at the last second. Reaching up to his lips, Hoseok pulled out the small razor he had hidden in his mouth. Ducking the next blow, he slung his arm upward and slashed over where Changkyun’s right eye was. A stream of blood sprayed and Changkyun moved to cover one hand over his eye as a trail of crimson leaked from beneath his palm.

Dropping the razor, he closed the distance between them as Changkyun attempted another assault. But with his depth-perception thrown off, he swung blindly. Hoseok slammed his elbow into his chest, aiming a backfist to his throat, and used his other hand to quickly disarm him. Before the knife could fall to the floor, Hoseok was already snatching it out of the air.

Spinning around on his back heel, he roughly slammed his back into Changkyun’s chest – forcing his body to bang against the door. Hoseok pulled his arms forward, then swung them back. A sickening squelch noise followed as he plunged the knife directly into Changkyun’s gut. He felt the younger man struggling against him, but he put all his weight backward – his shoulder blades pressing into his chest so that Changkyun wouldn’t be able to wriggle himself free.

“H-Hyung,” he heard Changkyun choke out, his hand reaching out to grasp onto Hoseok’s shoulder, “don’t do this. We…we can help each other…”

Taking a step back, Hoseok buried the knife further into Changkyun’s stomach – watching the blood forming a small puddle by his feet.

“…you can fucking die is what you can do.”

Seokjin swore under his breath, eyeballing the small cut on his leg. He hadn’t meant to get caught off guard, but there was so much happening around him. Things got less hairy when Namjoon’s team managed to make it inside. Even in the middle of all the craziness, Seokjin was glad they weren’t having to deal with guns. This would have ended bloodier than it needed to.

His eyes darted in every direction and he barked orders when he needed to as Taehyung’s team swept down from the ceiling. Namjoon was in the thick of it with his people and some of Yoongi’s squad managed to make it inside. There was a hint of worry when he hadn’t been able to locate Yoongi, but he knew he had to trust his brothers to be able to take care of themselves.

If he couldn’t at least do that, then what good was their bond?

The door to the manager’s office flew open, the loud bang rattling throughout all the noise of the fighting. Seokjin’s eyes followed the sound and he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Hoseok stumbling out of the door. He nearly tripped on something, seeing Taehyung catching Hoseok at the last second before he could fall. The two of them exchanged words before Taehyung jumped from the catwalk, his arms grabbing for the ropes so he could swing down to the main floor to join the fight. From what Seokjin could tell, Hoseok hadn’t sustained any injuries.

There was movement in Hoseok’s blind spot. Seokjin wasn’t sure if it was one of their people or a Jade Fang member. Not until the very last second.

“HOSEOK-AH!”

Their eyes locked momentarily, but there wasn’t any time. Running from his hiding spot, Seokjin scooped up a discarded knife. He slid to the center of the bottom floor and flung his arm out and upward. Hoseok jumped out of the way just as the knife buried itself in Changkyun’s throat. They watched the Jade Fang’s leader fall backward, presuming that he would not be getting up a second time.

A grateful smile passed over Hoseok’s lips, but soon snapped to surprise as he looked back at Seokjin.

“HYUNG!”

Suddenly, Seokjin felt his body flung to the side. His head hit the ground and the rest of him followed suit. The pain erupted seconds afterwards, his hand reaching up to grasp at the area where his nerves were screaming at him. Fingers caressed something cold and slender. When he pulled, his pain receptors went off like alarms and he screamed, looking around at who was responsible for the assault. As he craned his neck around to see, he spied the rod-like object poking out from his side. Something dribbled from his mouth and he didn’t have to guess to know that it was his own blood.

When he searched around in desperation, his eyes locked with Minhyuk who was holding a crossbow – watching him already reloading the next bolt.

Bodies moved around him in a blur – all of them screaming and fighting for their own lives. They were distracted. None of them realized what was happening.

No one except Hoseok.

Seokjin grinned, crawling to his knees. He could hear Hoseok’s feet thudding along the metal stairs, but he knew he wouldn’t make it in time. He was ready to face this head on. However, what he hadn’t expected was Minhyuk to shift his aim.

To Hoseok.

Eyes wide, Seokjin quickly scrambled to his feet and lunged forward in Hoseok’s direction. He knew his brother wasn’t paying attention to what was going on around him. He was too focused on getting to Seokjin. But by doing so, he was putting himself in danger.

Seokjin knew he had to block his path.

It was like he could sense it. He jumped up and out to the left. Pain blossomed over his back and all feeling from his legs down seemed to disappear. He collapsed into the ground, dirt filling his nostrils, and he cried out in agony as he dug his fingers into the concrete. Soon, he could feel the texture of his own blood mixed with the dirt under his fingernails.

“HYUNG!”

Seokjin couldn’t see, but he knew it was Taehyung’s voice. He blindly reached out, grabbing for what he assumed was Taehyung’s ankle. “H-Hoseok-ah,” he choked out between coughing up blood, “…get him out of here.”

“B-But Hyung—”

“DO IT!”

He felt the ankle leaving his grasp and Seokjin prayed that Taehyung would listen to him. Hoseok had to get out of there. They all had to go. He wasn’t foolish enough to believe that he was going to make it. Not now; not when he was coughing up blood. Something was internally damaged. He was most likely hemorrhaging already.

Curling onto his side, he grasped at the bolt protruding from him and gripped onto it as hard as he could. As he pulled, visions of Anastasia flashed through his mind, giving him pause. For a moment, he forgot about the pain; he forgot about the world around him.

All he could see was the woman he loved standing in the far corner of the factory as she held their beautiful son. He stretched his arm out, reaching for them as if he could touch them. Tears leaked from his eyes as he smiled – the world blurring and getting just a little bit darker.

…I’m sorry, Ana, he thought, the weight of his arm starting to get heavier, …I’m not going to be able to keep this promise…I love you… He felt his elbow hit the concrete, followed by his head.

I’m going to see my brothers now. Forgive me…

Everything grew quiet around him.

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