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gizmo-writes · 1 year

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fake your death | spencer reid

TRIGGER WARNINGS: stalking, kidnapping, pain, mentions of death, crying, lowkey copied natasha romanoffs back story because i love her

i choose defeat, i walk away

and leave this place the same today

The past few months had been hard. The hardest it had ever been. Cases piled up as you struggled to stay focused. It was hard to stay focused with what was happening in your life. The letters, the gifts, the constant fear of who was hiding around the corner. You tried to keep the team out of it, it wasn't their fight to fight. Your past, the things you had done were your business and no one elses. That was until it became too much, whoever was after you had gotten close, too close. They found Spencer, your boyfriend, and you knew it was time. You had to tell them, you couldn't risk anyone else being in danger. You had seen Emily try to hide stuff like this before and it only turned into hell for her and the team. So you came forward, whether you wanted to or not.

"So how long has this been happening?" Hotch asked as the team sat around the round table. "Months.. the letters started back in October of last year.. the gifts came a few months after that.. then they- they found Spence," you sighed, staring down at the papers before you. "The gifts, the letters, do they mean something to you?" Morgan asked. "Just- just stuff from my past." You shook your head, trying to ignore the things that haunted you from the past. "Y/n, we need more than that, what from your past was specified, what did they know that no one else would know?" Emily asked.

You didn't want to tell them, you spent years hiding yourself. You looked over at Hotch, the one man who knew it all. You were hoping for some sort of help, a look that would tell you what to say and not to say, but he gave you nothing. "I- I was a trained agent in russia. It- I- whoever it is knew that. They have sent me photos of me from back then, with my decoy family, with other agents. They have everything and it doesn't make sense. The only people who know that stuff were the people I worked with. It was a covert mission, nothing documented, to stay away from prying eyes." You explained, staring down at the table. "You were some super secret Russian spy? Like in the marvel movies?" Garcia said. You let out a soft giggle, "basically," you said. "But we won't be able to find any documents about it?" JJ asked. "Nothing, all names used were fake, the decoy family was fake. I never truly knew who I was working with. I just blindly trusted them in hopes I could get out of the shitty life i had." You explained. "You never told me." Spencer said. You looked over at him, he seemed hurt. "Spence, i couldn't. I wanted to leave that all behind." You said. "That doesn't matter, you can trust me. You know that, I have showed you time and time again that you can trust me." Spencer said. "Spence.. that's- I couldn't tell you.. you don't understand." You said. "No, I guess I don't." He said, standing up and walking out. You shut your eyes, sighing.

Things only got worse from there. Sure, spencer was upset with you but after whoever it was managed to find you.. that all went out the window. You were trapped, hand cuffed to a chair and forehead bleeding. You were tired, exhausted, eyes struggling to stay open. "Look at me," the person said, grabbing your face. There it was, the moment you knew you weren't going to make it out alive. The second the mask came off.. you knew. You weren't going to be let go of until you were dead. It was a known fact, if the victim saw the unsubs face, the chances of them making it out alive was close to zero. "Why don't you remember me? Huh? Why did you think it was okay to leave me behind! In a Russian prison! I risked my life to save you and you- you left me!" The man yelled at you, spitting in your face. The yelling made your head pound, your head falling back as you struggled to stay conscious. "Look at me!" He screamed, grabbing your face with such force you cried out. "I-I didn't want to leave you, you have to understand." You pleaded, struggling to look the man in the eyes with how bright the room was. "Oh boo hoo! You moved on so quickly after leaving. You even got a little boyfriend now huh? A new family? Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Penelope Garcia, should I continue or do you get the point?" He asked. Your heart ached, you would do anything to make sure they were okay. "Please, don't hurt them," you whimpered. "Oh trust me.. I'll hurt them, I'll make them suffer. I know how much they love you, your death it will break them." He said, smirk on his face.

You didn't know what to do, you couldn't fight, you couldn't scream, you couldn't think. Everything hurt, your mind, your body, your damn soul. "Does that scare you? Knowing you'll never see them again?" He asked. "Please," was all you could say. You felt hopeless, you were hopeless. "Oh honey, I won't make you suffer, I already got all the joy I need from watching you fall apart as I hunted you." He said, holding a knife in his hand. You let out a breath, not sure if it was from relief, fear, worry. You didn't know, nor did you have it in you to care. You don't remember much after that, you felt a sharp pain and heard a loud bang before everything went black.

Spencer and Hotch stood in the quiet hospital room, voices lowered in fear someone might hear them. "Is this the right choice?" Spencer asked. "It's the only choice.. he got away.. she won't be safe until we find her Reid." Hotch said. "I understand that.. but I can keep her safe." Spencer replied. "You can't keep her as safe as you want her to Reid and you know this. This will be the best decision to keep her and the team safe." Hotch said. Spencer felt the tears roll down his cheeks, eyes squeezing shut. "Can I say goodbye?" He asked and Hotch nodded. "She will only be gone until we find him.. remember that." Hotch said. "I know that.. I just don't know how long it will take.." spencer said. "Make it quick," Hotch said and Spencer nodded.

Spencer walked into the hospital room, the monitors beeping made his heart break. "Hey," he spoke softly, he kissed your forehead gently. Your eyes fluttered open as you looked at him. "Spence-" you started but he shushed you. "Don't talk.. just listen baby. I love you, more than anything.. but- but right now to keep you safe.. you'll have to be relocated." Spencer said, you didn't speak, you couldn't move but you heard what he was saying. "It'll only be for a while to keep you safe, okay? Then after that you'll be home, back in my arms. We'll watch movies, those stupid romcoms you love so much. And we'll celebrate all the holidays we'll miss, we will do everything, absolutely everything. Okay?" He said. You blinked away the tears to see him better. "But till then.. you need to be strong. You cannot contact us. No love letters, no post cards from all the beautiful places you'll visit. You can save them for when you get home, okay? Just.. stay strong for me.. we'll catch that son of a bitch and you'll be home before you know it. Okay?" He said. "Okay," you croaked out. "I love you." He said, kissing your chapped lips one last time. "I love you too." You whispered before he left.

The walk to the waiting room felt slow, agonizingly slow. So many thoughts running through his head as tears streamed down his face. His heart was broken and not for the reason the team was going to think. Hotch was stoic per usual. Once the two of them reached the waiting room it was like they knew. The look on Spencer's face sent Gracie straight into Derek arms with tears streaming down her face. JJs arms were wrapped around Spencer's in seconds, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," was all she could say. Spencer hugged her back as sobs wracked through his body. Everyone was broken and you weren't even dead.

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x reader

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thiswaycomessomethingwicked · 5 months

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omg I want to know, how were the Napoleon Queer Wars of 2014 like?? 😬

oh lord lol

It's been almost ten years and I still get weird YIKES reaction in my skin when I think about it, or when people in the current Napoleonic corner act a bit like the people from back then. Which is a me issue, and not anyone else's problem. But it is why I don't really engage with anyone from the Napoleonic side of tumblr anymore - too many bad memories and bad taste in my mouth.

Essentially, someone posted the (in)famous Cronin quote re: Napoleon telling Coulaincourt about the Feelings He Gets When Looking At Someone Handsome Friend Shaped. They speculated about queer* implications of this.

*necessary disclaimer about modern concepts of sexuality not being applicable to the past yadda yadda yadda. I'm using short hand here, folks. No one needs to jump down my throat.

A bunch of the Very Serious History Blogs(tm) came down hard on them being like "you're a fool, absolutely not, Napoleon was Straight(tm)". Someone else replied being like "Well what about That Letter from N to Josie concerning a Certain Tsar of Russia?"

I forget how That Letter was explained away, but it was.

Some name calling nonsense and really aggresive replies where bandied back and forth. People were passive aggresive and mean. People ignored each other then wrote vagueing posts about it. The usual damned foolishness you would expect.

Then someone else referenced that one book whose whole thesis is basically Napoleon was Probably Bi. The book, I will say, isn't great. I'd never recommend it. But it was floating around in the 2014/15 world of Napoleonic Tumblr.

And oh man was the person who suggested it torn to shreds. Eviscerated. It was like watching a train wreck and the by standers decided to lock the doors of the train and not let the passengers off while everything burned.

There were weird spin-off dramas from this nonsense where people got into whether or not being interested in Napoleon made you a war crime sympathizer. (Some things never change on this webbed site.) Messy, messy. Also, utterly dumb.

Anyway - it ended up weirdly boiling down to two sides: Are You A Serious Historian/Take History Seriously(tm) Therefore Anti-Napoleon Possibly Being Something Like Queer Even If Never Acted On versus People Having Fun(tm) on the Internet Who Now Have Their Backs Up and Are Responding Perhaps Unwisely.

There was a third party, which I was part of at that time** (no longer, since I left academia), which was the "We Do Real History As A Day Job, Because We Are In Academia, but Lol Like Hell Would I Think to do Serious History on the Blue Hell Site. I'm Present for Shits and Giggles and Idle Speculation and Chats. Nothing Here is Serious. Everyone Needs To Calm Down and Take Themselves Way Less Seriously." We were a small contingent, to say the least.

**this is not to say I didn't walk away with egg on my face. Because I did. My comportment wasn't great and it's something I've been trying to be better about ever since.

It's not a time I think anyone save like four Napoleonic-interested blogs can look back on without blame.

But yeah - it was a real bad time on here. People were called names and cruel, cruel messages were sent to various and sundry by various and sundry. People deactivated over it. Friendships were literally torched because of it. There was a lot of issues with: "What Is Tone When Jumping On Someone's Post?? We don't know how to gauge it! Are you being mean? Are you being helpful? Who knows!! But you sounded aggresive in your add on and so I had better respond aggressively as well."

All because some people took themselves too seriously and because other people were stupidly mean about something dumb.

If I sometimes come in really strong with five million disclaimers in my napoleon asks/responses, even just the silly, purely speculative ones that no one sensible expects Real Serious History to result from - questions that clearly fall into the camp of shit a friend would ask you at the bar after four pints - things like: "was he queer? do you think he had add/adhd? what do you speculate were mental health issues he may have had?" etc. it's because of this year/year-and-a-half shit show. (And my disclaimers don't always serve their purpose because this is, after all, the Piss on the Poor website and people lack attention to detail when reading. [That said, I'm just as guilty of it as well, so can't point too many fingers.])

anyway, the long and short is that MAN people were very anti-any idea that there might have been an iota of what we would term queerness in Napoleon. And MAN no one can be normal on this site about anything so of course there was unnecessary drama and hurt feelings and bitterness.

May we never repeat this stupid time.

#it's why blocking liberally is your friend!!#No one did that back then and it would have saved a lot of heart ache #napoleon #napoleon bonaparte #napoleonic #ask #reply #anon #the Great Napoleon Queer War of 2014

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yantalia545 · 18 days

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Yandere Germany, Russia, and America with an innocent darling

Germany:

He’ll see you a lot like he does Italy; Airheaded, gullible, and most of all, weak. Someone who needs someone to guide them in the right direction. Someone who would be lost without him.

You’ll be given extra training when with him in order to harden you for the troubles of the real world. Making sure to keep you close as he monitors your progress.

At meetings, Germany makes sure to keep an extra eye out for you. Italy mostly just eats and naps at these things so he should be fine for the most part. You on the other hand, how many times has he has to give France or his idiotic brother a warning death glare for trying to explain something sexual or inappropriate to you. You’re just too innocent to be hearing something so tainting.

So when he sees you all dolled up and showing way too much skin for a girls night out, Germany goes into overdrive.

On one hand, he’s furious. Who the hell do these whores think they are for influencing you in such a provocative way! You’re going to get hurt. Some creep is going to take advantage of you if he doesn’t stop this! One the other hand, Germany feels great disgust with himself for being aroused by your revealing appearance. He should be protecting you, not imagining you under him by just the sight of you in a skin tight mini skirt!

Try all you want, but in no way in hell are you going out that night. Or any night with those girls for that matter. They’re not good friends anyways. They were a terrible influence on you.

After a long night of furious lecturing, he may avoid you for a few days. Germany needs time to sort out his feelings. As out of touch he is with those, that night stirred certain things in him that he either been ignoring or hid from himself. Does he really only want to protect you for the sake of you being too weak to fend for yourself, or....because of something else?

With this question in mind, Germany will do the only thing he can do, research. Only after countless days and nights of reading several books from cover to cover on this feeling does Germany realize what it is. He’s in love.

This is were your trouble take a dive for the worse. Germany isn’t much for romance and he will take your innocent personality to justify for what he does.

He’ll tighten his reigns on you significantly. Especially after that incident with your friends. You can’t be trusted to make the right friends? You won’t be allowed to see anyone but him and the very few he trusts not to taint you further such as Italy and Japan. You let others decide your clothing? You’ll wear whatever he gives you that day. You’re life will quickly be overtaken by Germany.

He still can’t help his own desires from taking the reins every once in a while though no matter how much he fights it. He’ll be a mess as he has an internal battle with himself until he finally gives in. Maybe if it’s just for him then it isn’t so bad, right? On those nights, neither of you will be getting much sleep. ❤️

Oh Germany, If only he’d realize he became the one thing that he devoted his life to protecting you from.

America:

Being an airhead about these things himself, he’ll be caught off guard when you unintentionally ask him a sexual question that he happens to actually know. What dives him over the moon is the doe like expression you had as you asked him such a provocative question. Did you seriously not have the slightest clue on what you were asking? This in turn will cause him to blush and lie about it. He doesn’t want you to think he’s a creep for knowing just what it was.

After that fateful day America will begin to realize just how fragile you are. Fragile and innocent things must be protected from the harshness of the world. That’s a hero’s duty after all. At the next meeting, America will declare to be your hero and swears to protect you from all things sexual and tainting. This will quickly lead America to becoming very protective and just a bit possessive over you. He’s your hero. Only he can protect you from all things that want to hurt and deflower your innocence.

The others may find America’s latest obsession on you to be rather pitiful for you but won’t do much to stop it. They may only stick to backhanded remarks on how his own culture is so provocative but nothing else.

America most certainly will be knocked down a peg and ashamed of his own current culture and media at this point. He can’t lie, that may be the reason why he knows all these things but is still a virgin. America becomes increasingly afraid that even his own culture could taint you. Maybe somewhere in the mountainous woods could protect you?

The very next day you wake up in a bed you’ve never seen before. It isn’t long before that does America burst through the door and tries to comfort you by explaining himself.

We’re somewhere where nothing or no one can hurt you. This is your home now and no you’re not going back to your country. He’ll take care of everything for you. He is your hero, after all. No matter the amount of comforting that morning, nothing will stop your tears. In America’s mind however, this doesn’t help your case of being strong enough to be independent. You don’t understand yet, but he just knows you’ll grow to love living here with him.

He’s made sure to make sure everything is this cabin was everything you need. Movies, snacks, video games, and even plenty of space outside for you to explore. Not that you won’t be allowed outside without him of course. What if something happens and your hero isn’t around to help you? Or god forbid, you get lost. These woods has no one around for miles so it’s quite possible.

I’d say that America has more of a platonic relationship with you in this situation than romantic. He wants to protect you, not taint you like the world has done to him. This is just the thing he has to do as your hero.

Russia:

Russia won’t believe it at for the longest time. This has to be an act. He’s seen it many times and won’t become a fool to your ways. There’s just no way anyone can be this naive and get this far in life. The world is too cruel for anyone to remain soft. He won’t fall for it.

He will take to stalking you personally in order to catch you in an incriminating act against you character. It will take a very long time to convince him otherwise. It won’t be until after many months of stalking you and your social media is he finally convinced. And he's in love! Can there really be anyone this genuine and sweet in this world? Could you be this sweet to him?

It wouldn’t be very long before coming to this realization that he would drape himself over your shoulders at a world meeting and invite you to your fate. It was so adorable how quickly you innocently accepted his offer. Maybe you saw the loneliness within him and were sent by angles to save him.

Once you arrive, you won’t be permitted to leave. You’ll be forced to live in his big empty house with no one to keep you company but himself. It’ll be cruel how such a large house could feel so suffocating when you have the large man towering over you every step of the way.

You won’t be permitted to interact with anyone, ever. You belong to Russia now. Your only purpose in life now is to entertain Russia as his innocent, little, wife. Russia just loves your reaction to everything. Like begging to leave with tears in your wide, doe-like eyes. It’s so adorable! He may even just put you into awkward situations just to see how you would react. Their never sexual though. He never wants to taint your innocent nature. That is part of the reason he took you in the fist place.

The world can is a cruel place. One the likes to snuff out innocence and step on the weak. Russia would be the one to shelter you from such cruelties. He’ll keep you here in order to preserve what little light he was bestowed in this world and he’ll protect it with his life.

#hetalia #yandere russia #yandere hetalia #yandere germany #yandere america

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kyriethesquishysquid · 8 months

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Betrayal Never Felt So Good (König/Fem!Reader) Chapter 2

You can find Chapter 1 here, Chapter 3 here, Chapter 4 here, Chapter 5 here, and Chapter 6 here!

Word count: ~6.5k

Rating: Mature

A/N: Use of Y/N and Y/L/N. Appearance of a feral and jealous Possesive!König. We get plot but no smut in this one, with some angst, feelings, murder, and comfort on top! Reader really just needs a hug right now. Reader is also morally grey and morally questionable. Continued COD and military inaccuracies galore. Don’t shoot me for not writing out any combat scenes please - I’m a smut/fluff/angst author, action is outside of my wheelhouse lol. Once again written in less than 24 hours so please forgive any mistakes!

TW: Non-consensual drugging, emotional manipulation, body shaming, and attempted assault from asshole #2. Cold-blooded murder (but done for “good” reasons so it’s fine right?). Canon violence toward others by König, hints at stalking, hurt/comfort. Pet names (in English and German), bad German translations bc I’m still a lame monolingual American, and STILL no beta because we die like jackass Graves.

Crappy Translations:

Ungeziefer - Vermin

Maus - Mouse

Mein schatz - My darling

Meine leibling - My love

Scheiße - shit

It had been two whole months since your “rescue” from KorTac and not a day had gone by where you didn’t spend it thinking of König. That man plagued your mind worse than anyone ever had before. Which was stupid, considering you knew next to nothing about him, except that he treated you like a princess and fucked you like a whore. Oh and that he was the colonel of a “technically” enemy faction and your relationship would be seen as treason. And yet, he was the first man you’d had any sort of connection to in years. The only one who seemed to know everything you needed and wanted by intuition alone, and you craved the opportunity to explore that connection further.

You tried to think of some way to reach out to him but there was never a plausible avenue. You didn’t know his real name so finding him online, if he even had an online presence, would be impossible. You couldn’t very well ask Graves if he had any information on him either, lest you get fired, or worse, murdered, seeing as the Commander did not have a reputation for being understanding.

As the hamster wheel in your brain spun round and round, your thoughts grew more desperate and unhinged. It wasn’t too much longer before your contract with Shadow Company was up anyway. You were heavily considering seeing if KorTac would take you after, which you felt crazy about, but you weren’t sure what else to do. Logic just didn’t seem to play well with your thoughts about König and it was driving you insane to not be in control of yourself.

You could only turn off your constant barrage of emotion when you were knee-deep in patients or allowed out onto the field to provide care; though even that had been happening less. “Don’t want to chance triggering a PTSD episode”, Graves had said. And yet, despite thinking it couldn’t get worse, life had decided to throw you another curveball. It came when you were given your first mission in weeks, being called across countries with a small team of specialists to Russia to protect a diplomat and his family while they were in the country. That wasn’t the bad part though. Oh no. You could handle travel and a safe mission for once. The part that tied your stomach into knots was the fact you were going to be serving along with KorTac. It took everything in you not to show the emotions you felt in the moment Graves had told you that, while the last time you’d seen the KorTac colonel flashing through your thoughts like a movie.

The shouting in the quiet bunker was your first sign something was wrong. At first, you tried to ignore it, snuggling closer into the big human-shaped heater against you but then there was a gunshot, and that got you both up. Instinctively, you knew what was happening before even stepping foot out of the room.

“They’re here, aren’t they?” you whispered.

An overwhelming sense of panic filled your chest as you clasped his hands tight, unsure of what you were supposed to do.

“Stay here,” he instructed you as he quickly crossed the room to his dresser, gearing up in a hurry.

“What? No! You can’t go out there! What if they hurt you?!” you snapped back.

König shot you a bemused look as he tightened his vest.

“They can try, mein schatz, but they will not succeed.”

While his cockiness was certainly attractive and you knew he could hold his own in fights, there was now a part of you that worried and ached at the thought of him getting hurt. Before he could leave, you caught his wrist and jerked him back to you, smashing your mouth against his.

“Be safe.”

“Y/L/N!”

The pain of being ripped from such a powerful memory was enough to make you stumble, nearly falling into the last man you wanted to see at that moment; Daniel Carter, your “savior” from König and KorTac. It took all the power in your body not to frown at the brunette smugly grinning down at you.

“Yes, sir?” you finally asked.

“You gonna get in?”

He gestured to the plane and you quickly stepped into the cabin, a hot blush coating your face as you walked down the aisle to find a seat near the exit but still far enough to not be at the very end. Your fear of flying wasn’t something you had to face often thankfully but, when you did, it was a tough beast to battle. Fortunately, your mind was easily swayed into other worries when you watched the rest of the teams climb onto the plane. One by one, they found a seat, until the last member boarded, his figure dominating the entire space with his six-foot-eight presence. You couldn’t help but watch as he walked by. Gods, he was even bigger than you remembered. The sway of his hips and spread of his gait as he walked left nothing to the imagination, and you found yourself staring unbearably hard at his thick ass and thighs until he sat down on the other end.

Fuck, this was going to be harder than you thought. Your heart had felt afloat water in stormy seas ever since the moment you’d seen him waiting with his team this morning. At first, seeing him made you feel like you were finally able to breathe again, but the way he pointedly avoided your presence dragged you back down into the suffocating depths of turmoil. You’d hoped it was just a show for the others around you, but then it became clear that your hopes were for naught. Twice you’d tried to get him alone, practically begged him to talk to you, only to be treated as if you didn’t even exist.

A tightness that had nothing to do with your fear of flying squeezed at your heart as your eyes dropped to your feet. Doubts began to pile up like a car crash. Maybe you were stupider than you realized. Maybe those nights had meant nothing to him. Maybe you were just another stupid conquest who had the gall to believe someone as high-ranked and enigmatic as König would actually want more than an easy lay. And, fuck, had you made it easy. Some nice words, a few sweet gestures, and a voice that made your brain melt, and you were putty in his hands.

Lips tilting down, you leaned back against the stiff seat and let out a long sigh. Maybe if you hit your head hard enough on the wall you’d break something, or at least get a concussion bad enough to be sent home.

“What’s up, toots?” Daniel asked, tapping his boot against yours.

You managed a half-assed smile and muttered, “Hate flying.”

He grinned and leaned over just enough to nudge your shoulder with his. It was minimal contact but it was enough to make your stomach hurt. While Daniel seemed nice enough, you’d been privy to too many conversations he and his buddies had when they thought they were alone in the medbay or canteen. While some of the absolutely disgusting things he’d said were enough to make you wary, most of your ire came from him being the one to sneak you out of König’s room.

“You’re a strong gal, you’ve got this. Just take some deep breaths,” he instructed slowly, “Here, gimme your hand.”

Before you could politely decline, he snagged your hand in his and wrapped your smaller fingers around his palm.

“Lean back, close your eyes, take deep breaths, and squeeze if you need.”

Just the thought of being that vulnerable in his presence, or really any of the men around you, made your skin crawl. But honestly, what else did you have to do at this point? It was about an hour flight and your mind wasn’t in a good place.

Giving him a little nod, you did as instructed and let your head fall back once more. After the first few breaths, you had to admit some of the tension was dying down.

“There you go. Atta girl.”

Fuck. Your heart lurched against your ribs as his words threw you into a very heated memory that you most certainly didn’t need right then - the way König praised you for taking his cock so well, how his lips brushed your ear as he said such sinfully beautiful words as his hands caressed your skin. Face warming, you tried to clear your head again, only to get disrupted by the sound of heavy feet stopping in front of you.

“Can I help you with something, sir?” Daniel asked, something akin to fear in his tone.

Who could he have been afraid of? Most everyone here was on good terms, or so you thought.

“Is there something that we need to know before we land?”

König. Jolting upright, you gaped up at him in disbelief as he stood there stiffly, arms crossed across his chest and eyes pinning Daniel down in earnest. God, that shouldn’t have been hot. You were supposed to be hurt, pissed at him, and yet the fire in his eyes as he stared down the other man was nothing more than primal.

“U-Uh, I’m not sure what you mean, sir,” Daniel stammered out.

You quickly jerked your hand from his and noticed that finally- FINALLY- those deep blues were focused on you for the first time all day.

“We cannot afford to have any distractions out there. I will ask again, is there something that we need to prepare for? Will your attention be divided?” König bit out.

It wasn’t painfully obvious but you could hear a slight inflection, almost anger, filtering through his tone.

“No, sir,” you retorted stiffly, “Private Carter was helping me with my fear of flying.”

“Correct, sir,” Daniel agreed quickly.

König let out a snide hmm before strolling back down the aisle to his seat. It wasn’t until he was fully sat that you relaxed in your seat.

“What the fuck…This is awkward, right?” Daniel whispered, “I mean, it’s weird for me but I can’t imagine how weird it is for you.”

Playing dumb, your eyes cut to him curiously and you asked, “What do you mean?”

He gestured weakly toward König and the rest of his team, and then at you.

“They quite literally kidnapped you a couple of months ago,” he muttered, “They killed a group of our men and were actively fighting against our mission, and now we’re expected to just get along with them?”

The guy had a point. Sighing heavily, you shrugged and leaned back.

“Yeah, it’s weird, but we do what we gotta do, right?” you murmured.

If only he knew the real reason for your discomfort. Eyes flicking up to the bare metal ceiling, you said a silent prayer that once you were on the ground, you wouldn’t have to be in König’s presence anymore. It wouldn’t do to be distracted, and lord knows you would be.

“Try to rest,” Daniel said suddenly, “I’ll wake you when we land.”

Any thoughts of arguing were wiped from your mind when the cabin shuddered through turbulence. With a shaky inhale, you closed your eyes and started counting back from one hundred. Even if you didn’t fall asleep, it would help with your endless anxiety.

…

“Alright, you’re good to go. Just try to stay off of it as much as possible until we leave tomorrow. Those painkillers will help the pain but the ligaments still need time to repair,” you sighed with a weak smile.

“Just glad it’s not broken,” he laughed nervously, “It’d suck for my first real injury to be caused by tripping in the dirt rather than by combat,”

You snickered in agreement at that. That would be one sad story.

“Remember, ice, elevation, and painkillers!” you called as he exited the room with a wave.

Turning back to your laptop, you started the final charting on the private’s file but it wasn’t long before you were distracted by someone entering the room. Dread filled the pit in your stomach when they didn’t instantly speak. So far you hadn’t seen König more than once or twice in passing this past week and you’d hate to break that streak right before you got to go home.

“Hey, Y/N, why don’t you head out for the night? I’ve got things covered here!”

Relief practically oozed from your pores as you heard the familiar voice of one of KorTac’s medical staff. Spinning around in the wheely chair, you found the redhead already opening her own laptop at the other desk.

“You sure?” you asked.

“Of course! You let me sleep in and took the first half of my shift, it’s only fair I let you out early,” she teased kindly.

Leaving early meant the possibility of running into the silent colonel, but it also meant you could actually enjoy the last night in the city. While it was a smaller area, it apparently had a decent nightlife, or so Daniel said. He’d caught you before your shift and practically begged you to join him and some of the guys out for drinks at the local bar to celebrate a job well done. You’d thought he was going to cry when you told him you worked late and couldn’t join.

“Girl, go! Shoo! I’ve got this.”

Flashing her a smile, you nodded and gathered up your things.

“Okay, fine, you win,” you groaned in faux frustration, “I’ll leave you be.”

She shot you a mock salute and turned dutifully to her laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard as she began to check charts. With one last nod, you grabbed your bag and hurried out into the hall. It was only eight thirty and the guys were going out around nine, so you had just enough time to change into something more sociable.

The instant you were in your room, you wasted no time digging through your duffle bag until you found a semi-decent outfit. Most of your clothes were for work but you liked to keep a few nicer things on hand for occasions such as this. After pairing a cute black peekaboo sweater with a pair of fitted dark-wash jeans that framed your thick thighs and ass perfectly, you slipped on your only non-work shoes- a pair of black ankle booties. From there, you hastily fixed your hair and put on a quick bit of makeup before rushing out the door.

It felt weird to admit you were kind of excited to hang out with Daniel and the others tonight. You’d never really been included much in things back home, being medical staff and not one of the “boys”, but ever since being here for the mission, Daniel had made it his primary objective to make sure to check in on you multiple times a day. A strange little friendship was budding and, somehow, you didn’t hate the idea. He’d been nothing less than kind, and now that you weren’t completely hung up on the colonel, you were losing your biggest reason for disliking him.

“Y/N! Whoa!”

Daniel’s yelp caught you off guard and you couldn’t stop the blush that formed when you saw the way multiple pairs of eyes raked up and down your form.

“Damn, you clean up nice, Y/L/N,” another private, Chad you think it was, said from beside Daniel.

“Uh, thanks,” you replied awkwardly, “So… bar?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Daniel said with a grin, “Hope you don’t mind but we’re walking because it’s only two blocks away!”

Nodding in understanding, you joined the group of five with a little smile, trying your hardest to keep your nerves at bay. It was chilly out. Nothing too horrible, but it made you glad you’d had the foresight to wear something warm since you had to walk in it.

“Hey, you know, Chad was right,” Daniel said quietly when he dropped to the back of the group with you, “You look incredible. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything other than work attire.”

Damn it. It was much easier to hate him when he was acting more creepy and you were under the illusion he’d ruined your love life. Now… Now it was almost too easy to like him.

“Thanks, I appreciate that,” you answered, “You look nice too! Never seen you dressed down either.”

It wasn’t a lie. Daniel wasn’t a bad-looking guy, maybe a bit plain with short brown hair styled in the regulation cut, nice green eyes, and a big smile, but definitely not bad. It was just that your thoughts were always flittering around the almost seven-foot beast of a man in comparison and no one could compare to that.

The pink that dusted his cheeks only served to make him cuter and you were nearly groaning in frustration at the thoughts filtering through your mind. No. There was no way you were going to give in to those thoughts. It was just the pain of König ignoring you and the human need for attention making you think that way, you were almost certain.

“Ah, we’re here!”

The music from the bar was audible from the outside and it only got worse once you stepped in. He hadn’t been lying when he said there was a thriving nightlife. The small bar was packed to the gills, with just enough room to move around and get to the bar, bathrooms, or dance floor.

“Come on, I’ll buy you your first drink!” he shouted over the music.

Aw shit. You knew where that was going to lead. Before you could decline his offer, he snagged your wrist and nearly dragged you to the bar. You were given no choice but to order your favorite drink when he demanded so and the bartender stared you down with a less-than-patient glare. True to his word, he paid for your drink, and then instantly dragged you through the crowd without a word. Daniel led you everywhere like you were some lost puppy who needed direction. From the bar to the table, and then to the dance floor, you weren’t given a single choice in the matter up to the point of him practically pouring your drink down your throat.

Said action didn’t fly over well, the liquor bitter and stinging down your throat so quickly you had to reflexively cough to avoid aspirating.

“Jesus, fuck, calm down,” you snapped at him once you caught your breath.

“I just wanna make sure you can loosen up and have fun,” he replied with an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry. I.. I just don’t want you to fall behind or anything.”

You couldn’t contain your eye-roll as you gave into the puppy dog eyes and made a show of taking another drink.

“There, happy?” you asked.

“Definitely, come on, let’s dance!”

The irritation over his actions was soon forgotten as you gave in to the beat of the music and joined in the writhing bodies on the floor. It didn’t take long to get drawn into the moment, the alcohol and music a powerful combination that brought out the serotonin you didn’t know you needed. Song after song passed and soon enough you found yourself in Daniel’s arms. It was almost nice, to let the stress of the past few months flow away and focus on only the here and now.

“I didn’t know you could move like this,” Daniel said into your ear as his arms wrapped around your waist.

The graze of his lips across your skin sent shivers down your spine and you instinctively arched into his touch as his hands slid further down your sides.

“I don’t get the chance to dance much,” you admitted meekly.

“That’s a shame. You’ll have to let me drag you out more often because it’s a damn sexy sight.”

A giggle escaped before you could stop it. Damn it. His flirting wasn’t funny!

“Mmmhmm, sure,” you retorted cheekily, “You’re like the only one who thinks that.”

He quickly spun you around, fast enough that the world went wonky and you had to grab onto him for balance, and it sent chills through your body.

“Whoa, that- oh my,” you gasped.

“Are you okay, Y/N?”

There was a look of concern on his face as you felt your knees weaken. Panic sent your heart racing but you couldn’t focus enough to figure out why. Something just felt… wrong.

“Maybe you’re dehydrated. Why don’t you finish the rest of your drink?” he urged.

Shaking your head, you managed to mumble out, “Alcohol won’t fix dehydration. It’ll actually make it worse.”

“Well, it’s worth a try, come on.”

When he pushed the cup to your lips again, some semblance of your brain came back online and you pushed instinctively it away. The ugly curve of his downturned lips told a terrifying story. Was he- Was he trying to drug you?! Clenching your eyes shut tight, you tried to sort through your memories and recall the symptoms of being drugged to compare to your current ailments.

“Damn it, just take the fucking drink. I spent ten dollars on this fancy shit,” he grunted lowly.

Eyes popping open, you caught his furious glare and instantly everything clicked. The reason he was so intent on you coming out tonight, how he handled the drink all the way to the floor, his insistence to drink the alcohol.

“You- You prick,” you bit out.

Thankfully, you hadn’t drunk more than those first two gulps. Whatever he’d laced the liquor with likely wasn’t at its full potential, and yet you were still feeling the effects. Just what the fuck had he given you?

“Y/N, what are you-”

With all your strength, you pushed him and luckily managed to catch him off guard, sending him flying back into the group behind him. You didn’t wait to see if he got back to his feet before you took the chance to escape. It was like a psychedelic maze, trying to escape the packed dance floor with your heart racing and your eyes swimming. Eventually, you made it out, and you instantly left the bar.

The cold night air tore a gasp from your lungs when it hit your skin but it was more than welcomed. Your body felt like it was on fire, sweat rolling down your back and forehead as if you’d just been vigorously working out. The chill helped to clear your thoughts some.

“Okay, I can do this, it’s just two blocks,” you murmured to yourself.

For a minute, you considered calling for help from one of your squadmates, but your gut cautioned you otherwise. These soldiers were close, dangerously close. There was a good chance they’d just help him cover it up if you tried. A weak sigh left your lips as tears flooded your gaze. You wished you would have just stayed at work. You wished you hadn’t gone against your initial judgment of that asshole. You wish you were home, safe and sound in bed. Most of all, you wished you could call König to come save you. How ironic that you were looking to the man Daniel had “rescued” you from to come rescue you from him now.

“Where do you think you’re going, bitch?!”

A big hand snagged your wrist and pulled you to a stop so suddenly that your shoulder popped audibly, pain shooting through the joint as you collapsed back against him.

“Daniel, please- I-”

“Uh-uh, nope. You’re not talking me out of this,” he hissed.

Despite using your entire weight to pull against him, he was able to drag you down a nearby dark alley with ease. Pain exploded through the back of your skull when he slammed you into the brick wall with a grunt and you nearly collapsed.

“Fuck!” you yelped, hand instinctively touching the throbbing spot to check for blood.

“You don’t fucking get it, do you? I was the one who located their base. I was the one who led the team in and took out as many of those dumb fucks as possible. I was the one to save your miserable ass, and what did I get for it? Nothing more than a fucking “thanks” and a shitty attitude. I waited for you to come around but you never fucking did,” he snarled, palm slapping the brick beside your face with a grunt, “When Graves suggested we bring medics along, I knew it would be my best chance of getting you alone. You’re such a stuck-up whore at home that you don’t ever go out with us. But here, I knew I could convince you. All it took was some kindness for your fat ass to fold. Can’t reckon you get much attention, so I’m not that surprised.”

Disgust and shame reared its ugly head in your chest as you let your eyes drop from the angry vision of his face. Instead, you stared intently at the pocket of his white polo.

“Now, you’re going to do what you should have done long ago, and you’re going to thank me for saving you. Get on your fucking knees and if you even think of using teeth I’ll put a round in your head so fast that-”

You stopped, mid-decent to the concrete when Daniel went flying. As he slammed into the ground, a hulking shadow followed him in earnest. It took your brain some time to figure out what was happening, but then you heard a familiar voice snarling in German. Slowly, the details of his form solidified in your gaze, and you sagged in relief.

“Pray to your god while you’ve got the chance, ungeziefer!” König barked loudly.

A pained screech filled the air and made your stomach twist.

“ König?!” Daniel groaned, “What the-? Why?!”

“You’re quite simple, aren’t you?” König snapped back with a humorless laugh, “Take one guess.”

You watched the way Daniel’s head popped up, a look of disbelief clear in his eyes as he stared up at the giant before turning to you. Even through the lingering haze of the drugs, you could clearly make out the terror on his face and a sick part of you felt thrilled that he was experiencing even a modicum of the fear he’d pushed onto you.

“I- I didn’t know,” he panted through frantic gasps, “I wouldn’t have-!”

Daniel’s weak croak was silenced by a brutal kick to the face. The crunch of bone and cartilage sent chills down your spine and you couldn’t but absentmindedly think about how badly that would heal… if he even made it out of there.

König rolled him over with a boot to the gut and crouched down above him, his voice just barely loud enough for you to hear.

“Even if she wasn’t mine, you don’t get to touch her in that way. Unfortunately for you, she is mine. You’re just lucky I don’t have the time to drag this out. The things I would do to you…”

His words lit a fire in your stomach, misplaced lust and satisfaction filling your chest despite the gruesome scene before you. There was a rapid-fire battle going on in your mind, between the lawful good instinct to stop König and the chaotic righteousness to let him beat the hell out of Daniel. It wasn’t until the glint of a blade pierced through the dark, reflecting the weak fluorescent light behind them, that reality finally set in. This wasn’t going to be a fight. This was going to be a slaughter. König was going to kill someone over you!

“No, don’t! König, wait!”

Your pleas fell on deaf ears. Before you could even blink, he was knelt on Daniel’s back, jerking the smaller man’s head up by the hair only to sink the knife into his ribs repeatedly, ending it with a vicious slash across his throat. It was awful and astonishing. A man of his size shouldn’t be that quick. While you’d seen him take out five of your team alone, that was with a gun. This was different. This was personal.

Licking your dry lips, you watched with wide eyes as König got up from his position and turned your way. Something between fear and excitement quickened your breaths as he stalked your way, slowly, wiping the blood from his blade before shoving it back into his pocket

“You shouldn’t have done that,” you murmured.

“And let him live after knowing what he was going to do to you? I think not,” he growled back lowly.

The instant you were within reach, a hand was around your throat, gentle but commanding as he pulled you into him.

“He’s lucky I didn’t make him clean his guts up off the floor,” he hissed.

“Oh.”

Before you could react, he crouched and lifted you up onto his waist. Brick bit into your back through your sweater as he pinned you against it, making you gasp as his mouth devoured yours.

“Mine,” he growled fervently.

His hips ground roughly into the apex of your thighs and stole your breath as a wave of pleasure scorched through your belly. Holy fuck, he was already rock-hard. A pathetic whimper escaped your mouth into him when his teeth bit into your lip hard and you couldn’t resist scraping your nails along the nape of his neck.

“Nobody gets to touch you except me, got it?”

Your eyes rolled back at the rasp in his voice, the thinly veiled need peeking through in a taunt.

“Yeah, but… Hey! König, wait, please!”

A little growl emanated through his chest as you pushed on him, but he easily relented, drawing away to catch your flustered gaze with half-lidded eyes.

“What is it, maus?” he asked.

“We can’t just- What- How the fuck are we gonna explain this?” you retorted, panic slowly filtering through your lust-hazed mind, “My god. You’re gonna get in trouble! I can’t- I can’t let you get hurt for protecting me! We have to do something! Maybe we can-”

Your rambling was quickly silenced with a hand over your mouth, the weight of his body leaning more into you, providing a sense of comfort almost like a weighted blanket.

“Calm down, meine leibling,” he shushed warmly, “Take a deep breath and relax. Everything is going to be fine, I promise you.”

Tears blurred your vision as you looked from him to Daniel and back to him, only to find his eyes hungrily tracing your form. Even in the current situation, you couldn’t deny the heat it caused. And then it was gone, the furrow of his brow conveying that anger once more when he released your mouth.

“What did you think you were doing anyway, coming here with him?”

You couldn’t help but recoil, grimacing as your head hit the wall in the same tender spot, until he forced your face up by your chin. There was so much fury residing in his gaze that your heart squirmed in pain. It hurt worse than anything to see that judgment and anger directed at you. Was he really going to blame you?

“Maus, I said, what did you think you were-”

“Well, I sure as fuck didn’t think I was coming out to get raped!” you spat back finally, unbidden tears spilling down your cheeks, “I thought- I thought I was- was with friends. I-I didn’t think-”

When he pulled you into his chest, the damn broke fully. Sobs poured from your shaking form as you wrapped yourself around him and breathed him in. You cried over the betrayal from your teammate. You cried at how close you came to being assaulted by another horrible person, the fact that König had saved you twice now. You cried over how much you’d missed him, over how happy you were to hear he still had some kind of emotion for you; no matter how demented it might be.

“I had a bad feeling about him,” he bit out after a moment, “When I saw you leave with them, I just knew. I’m sorry it took so long to get out here to you, schatz. If I had been quicker-”

You shook your head frantically and whimpered, “You were just in time.”

He hummed quietly, hand cradling the nape of your neck as he murmured little soothing words against your hair. You don’t know how long you stood there like that but eventually, your limbs started to ache from the position. When you pulled away from him, he put you down gently but didn’t let you retreat fully, hands cupping your face tenderly while he wiped away your tears.

“I don’t enjoy seeing you cry like this,” he sighed.

Something about that triggered that subdued anger in the back of your mind, waking the beast from slumber. Anger was easier to handle than sadness. How dare he stand here and comfort you, hold you like this, when hours ago he couldn’t even look you in the eye!

Nose wrinkling in frustration, you stepped back and wrapped your arms around yourself as the lack of his warmth hit hard. The hurt that passed through his eyes nearly made you collapse back into his arms but you knew you couldn’t- not yet, not until you had answers.

“Why?” you finally asked.

“Why, wha-”

“Why did you act like I didn’t exist? I spent the last two months driving myself fucking crazy, pining over you and what could have been, only to get treated like I was nothing more than dirt on your boot the next time I saw you!”

He tried to talk but you cut him off swiftly. No way were you done with him. Shoving a finger into his oh-so-glorious pec, you stepped closer with all the rage you could muster in your glare. In another light, it probably would have been hilarious to see someone of your short stature intimidating the giant man.

“If I was just some fucking notch in your bedpost, you could have said that! You didn’t have to act like there was something more. You have to know how hot you are. I would have fucked you even without you tricking me like that. But no, you had to make me feel special, make it feel like there was more than just my body on the line, and then you have the nerve to get mad at me for seeking out platonic companionship in my teammates?! You dare claim that I’m yours?! No, no, you don’t get to do that!”

The instant your rant ended, one hand cupped the back of your head and the other shoved you back against the wall, the impact cushioned by his hand before he boxed you in on either side. And fuck, you shouldn’t have found that hot but god it was. The way he instinctively protected you, acted like he cared, towered over you in a way that just screamed dominance and power.

“Don’t you dare say those things. There hasn’t been one moment that I haven’t thought about you, that I wasn’t looking out for you from afar, mein schatz,” he said sternly.

“Then why-”

“Because I couldn’t risk anyone figuring out what had happened between us!” he snapped with a huff, “If anyone knew you had stayed with me willingly, your life would be in danger, and I knew if I spoke to you, I would break. How could I not? I’m only so strong, meine liebe. Did you really think it was easy for me to do that? That I didn’t want to scoop you up in my arms the moment you walked through that door? That it didn’t break my heart when I watched the hope leave your eyes?! I hated myself every- single- second.”

Swallowing hard, you couldn’t force out any kind of answer. Distrust held your heart in a stronghold but his words were slowly chipping it away, the passion in his voice worming its way under your skin.

“It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. You don’t even understand. Scheiße, I put so much time and effort into finally meeting you, and then somehow… somehow, I lucked out. I got a taste of what I’d wanted for so long,” he paused, thumb gently stroking that sweet spot below your ear as his eyes searched your face, “And it was more than I could have ever hoped for, only to have you ripped away at the last moment.”

His words settled heavily around you and, as their significance soaked into your brain, you could only stare at him in confusion. He… had known of you before you met? You knew they’d gathered intel on your team before the attack, but… he'd seen enough to want to see you?

“What do you mean?” you asked softly.

His silence was loud, louder than you could handle and the guilt in his eyes sent a shiver up your spine.

“König,” you urged, “What- What do you mean?”

German spewed suddenly from his lips, angry and frantic as he began to pace in place, and it only served to make that anxiety nestle deeper in your belly.

“Damn it! Talk to me!” you cried.

When he spun around, you tripped over yourself in shock trying to back away from the fury in his glare. Fortunately, or possibly unfortunately, he caught you before you could actually fall, but he didn’t let you go even once you were balanced.

“There’s no way to make this sound good,” he breathed quietly.

Eyebrows shooting up in disbelief, you retorted, “Yeah, well, it can’t be worse than leaving me guessing at all the horrible things you could mean!”

“I need you to promise me you won’t run, that you’ll let me explain.”

While you wanted to hear him out, you weren’t sure how well you would handle whatever it was. There was also the issue of your dead teammate less than five meters away. Everything in your heart and mind was torn into a million little pieces of focus and it was all too much. You had to pick one problem at a time to deal with.

Looking over at Daniel’s still form, you pressed your lips into a thin line.

“What the hell do we do about him?” you asked.

You weren’t lying earlier when you said you were worried for König. He had a lot of power, but straight up murdering one of Graves’ men out of battle and, even worse while allied, was beyond reason. That was a death sentence.

König froze up, almost as if he’d forgotten about the whole reason you were there, and let out a heavy sigh.

“I’ll call it in and have Horangi take care of it,” he muttered, “For now, come back to my room with me. Everyone should be out right now.”

Why did that sound so inviting, so perfect? Fantasies of being able to touch him again, cuddle with him once more, plagued your thoughts until the weight of his admission came crashing back down. You couldn’t help but stare at him as his words reverberated in your head. It was clearer than ever that you knew nothing about this man, and yet you couldn't stop the way your heart fluttered when he slipped his fingers between yours, nor the way you felt content in following him out of the alley. Despite it all, under the fear and the uncertainty, that fatal attraction to him was still burning strong. When he wrapped his arm around you and slipped you under his jacket to protect you against the blustering winds, it felt too much like home.

Just what the fuck were you supposed to do now?

#könig #könig x reader #könig cod #cod fanfic #könig fanfiction

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angry-geno-is-score · 25 days

Note

I know youre primarily a lars/dunn blog but i need to share a sid/geno headcannon thats been rattling around in my brain:

Enemies to lovers AU sid/geno where they meet at world juniors. And sid is appalled by geno. Sid is very much serious about hockey. He is god's favorite child whos cursed with the ability to be insanely good at hockey. Its what hes poured his blood, sweat, and tears into. Meanwhile geno is just so happy to be there, laughing and joking around during warm ups. Sid interrupts genos good mood as not taking it seriously.

It doesnt help that he leads russia to destroy team canada. Sid is shooting him death glares and scowling at geno the whole time. Meanwhile geno catches his eye and blows kisses as he cellys with his team.

And afterwards, sid swears him off and says he hates him. So what if he watches genos highlight reels? No one needs to know.

So imagine sid's horror when not only does pittsburgh DRAFT geno but also mario graciously opens his home to geno while he adjusts to living in america.

(Sid ofc objects to this one night over dinner but mario shuts that down immediately with "future captains are humble and kind to new players, no matter who they are" while sid grumbles and picks at his food)

So not only does geno move in, he moves in to the room directly across from sid's.

And one weekend while mario is out of town (he volun-told sid to have some team bonding with geno and watch a movie together) sid and geno are sitting on sids too small couch in his room to watch some stupid movie.

Sid stares stubbornly at the tv, fuming in disbelief mario is making him hang out with the guy who embarrassed sid. And he tries to ignore how he keeps catching geno staring at him from the corner of his eye and how theyre so close their thighs are touching.

Eventually sid snaps and turns and asks geno if theres a problem. Geno just traces sids cheek down to his lips and whispers "pretty" and leans in to kiss sid.

And when Sid wakes up the next morning in bed next to geno, he stares up at the ceiling and realizes just how screwed he is.

(Bonus: they sneak around for a few months, stolen kisses and hidden touches. Not that sid thinks mario would disapprove but no way sid is telling his hero that hes sleeping with the enemy. Meanwhile marios known since the first few weeks when he happens to run home to quickly grab something he forgot and looks out the window in the kitchen to see geno and sid sloppily making out and groping in the pool)

I am primarily larsdunn but BOY do I have time to entertain sidgeno (and mattdrai) and BOY OH BOY is this an idea to entertain! I definitely don't have the WIP space to work on something like this (despite my stupid muse whispering that we absolutely do) but I love the idea!! "Mario not only knows about sidgeno but actively encourages it/is part of the reason it exists" is like my favorite trope EVER. I could definitely envision some fun with this XD

If anyone else wants to take this idea and run with it, be my guest :D I only ask that you tag me so I can scream about it excitedly.

#sidgeno #hrpf things #anon asks #fic ideas

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redjaybathood · 2 months

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It's killing me how pervasive russian propaganda is. Propals love to claim that the West is hypocrites bc they support Ukraine but not a variety of countries and people they, themselves being from the West more often than not, did not give a shit about before. They would rather blame anyone else: the government they voted for, the media they are reading, - than look into themselves.

This paradigm also ignores:

Massive anti-Ukrainian russian propaganda campaign that is running for ten years now. Chances are, all they heard about Ukraine before the full-scale invasion is Azov, Bandera, Nazis, and that's what they're running with it (especially leftists/tankies who think Greyzone is a reliable source of information). Despite chances are, there are more far-right in power in their country than there are far-right politicians in Ukraine. Despite the massive reform Azov underwent. Despite the voices of our Jewish citizens and academics, despite Muslim soldiers in Azov;

Massive support russia, russians, russian imperialism still gets. For one example (and there are numerous) Australian ABC TV station recently made a documentary based on the point of view of russian invading forces, and it treated everything they have heard from them or seen as a legitimate point of view. Bucha massacre denial, for example. This is not humanization, this is straight-up genocide denial. And I know that UK TV also showed this documentary, it's side by side on their website with the documentary about Ukrainian abducted children. The children - those of them who survived the deportation anyway - are being indoctrinated against Ukraine, right now, trained as soldiers. If you even care;

The obvious reality that after people realized that there's not going to be a WW3 or a nuclear war anytime soon, they stopped caring all that much, if they ever did. Look at tumblr: any Palestine or even Israel-related post gets 20+k notes easily. That's not something that we see nowadays with Ukraine, if ever. And there is more negativity about Ukraine here, or on other social media, than for Gazans. And this is even counting that Gaza is the base for legit terrorist organization that committed a massive terrorist attack against the civilian population and is currently holding hostages. Which is the justification Israel puts down for their attack, and for their massive infliction of civilian casualties - but it's also what happened. Whereas in Ukraine, what happened was a Revolution of Dignity, where the victims, the dead, were the people who protested against the corrupt government and won. They didn't attack civilians, they didn't kill russians, they didn't even ban a russian language. They just didn't want to live in a corrupt country, in a police state, where children can be beaten up by police forces and be sent to a hospital. That's how Euromaidan started, if you even care. And Euromaidan is exactly the justification russia put up for the invasion back in 2014. You get me? HAMAS terrorist attack spiked huge support for Gaza and the Palestinian cause even before there were 30K Palestinians murdered by Israel. Even before one such death. Ukraine's fight to protect its freedom was met with indifference if not hostility.

Nothing of the above means you should not care about Gaza and Palestine. But somehow, it means that people treat it as a morally superior position not to care about Ukraine, to blame their government, to blame their media, to blame schools and parents and corporations - and, of course, zionists. Which is their dog whistle for Jews.

It deserves another post, how quickly misinformation and antisemitism spreads on tumblr. Holy shit. You guys are fucked up.

#not tagging bc it's mostly a vent post #i'm exausted

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nrdmssgs · 11 months

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A heart full of pity (part 1)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 (final)

Masterlist Angst, hurt/comfort Pairing: Nik x unnamed afab OC

Summary: He is a fixer, but there are some things, he can never fix. Things like past traumas. He wishes, he could make it better, take her pain away, but he can't. And can't leave her be either, as for now he is her fixer.

TW: Description of physical injury (burns). Inaccurate description of medical operations and military operations, swearing.

Authors note: This is deeply personal. I do not urge anyone to love Russian culture, and I understand how traumatic any mention of it can be in the current realities. I also do not urge anyone to have a positive attitude towards the FSB. Nikolai is a unique character, he does not represent any realities of life in Russia or work in the FSB. I don't romanticize Russia or FSB in real life. This is just fiction. I don't intend to harm anyone with it.

Thanks: I would like to thank a million times absolutely beautiful soul @homicidal-slvt for opening this character from a new perspective for me. I would also love to thank dear @sofasoap for creating absolutely beautiful Lastochka series, that took my mind on this journey.

“Then, oh Lord, wipe us off the face of the earth and create anew more perfect ... or even better, leave us and let us go our own way.” “My heart is full of pity,” Rumata said slowly. “I can not do it.” ‘Hard to Be a God’ by Arkady and Boris Strugatsky

“Captain, are you absolutely sure, there is no one else, whom you could send with me?” With each next word, her voice became lower and more muffled - a sure sign that she was growing furious. “I mean, I`ll need someone, who can easily blend in, someone discreet, fast thinking, but most important: someone trustworthy.”

“In other words, you need a fixer. And Nikolai is the best one.” Price remained unrelenting. Her persuasion, bargaining and even threats had no effect on him. “Now how about you quit trying to burn a hole in me with your gaze and start working on the plan?”

Price proceeds to explain her goal and timeframes for every part of the mission, but she is too deep in her thoughts. Her hands clutch in fists and slam against the table. “You can't trust that man with a critical mission. You know his origins!” For the first time in her life, she raises her voice at Price, but he completely ignores it, only adding a subtle remark “I trust him with my own life” before going on with a briefing. And that's when she makes her final attempt to make her point to her captain. “The man works for the FSB. And before you tell me once again, he quitted - they never quit! I know it better than all you here!”

Price raises his gaze to her, but doesn't respond. Instead she hears a familiar voice from behind her back. “Hochesh chto-nibud` skazat` - skazhi eto mne v litzo…*”

She could call Nikolai anything but narrow-minded. Even his insults were constructed so carefully, only them two could actually read into it. Her own origin was no secret here and others thought, it would only make it easier for her to connect with Nik, but in reality it turned out quite the opposite. His background was now his experience, hers - burning, aching open wound. Coming from the same place, each of them brought different baggage to their present life. So earlier she acted like Nik was never around: they barely talked, she never touched him, not even shook his hand, never mentioned him on conversations. As if he hasn't existed.

But that was until he was assigned to help her with the mission. As much as she didn't like it - Nikolai was the only option she got and that meant, they must talk, learn, how to work together. So later that week, sitting next to Nik on the night train, she finally pulls herself together and finds the courage to apologize for what she said earlier in Prices` office. “Captain is right: that was… unprofessional of me to judge,” she talks quietly to not draw unwanted attention, so Nikolai has to lean down to hear what she has to say. Despite her hesitant voice, she sounds genuinely sorry. “That's ok, little one. I know, you don't hate me for real. Not personally.” He smiles softly, as if just a few days ago they weren't ready to start a real fight. “Hey, I know, it's not my business, so feel free to ignore this one. But you seem to have a reason for all that rage. Care to tell?” She doesn't say much, just names a year. There is no need to elaborate: it was on the news everywhere. And it was ugly. By that time Nik already lived his another, new life far from the Motherland, but of course he and the whole world witnessed, how quickly things escalated, and all hell broke loose. Nikolai slowly nods and calmly asks. “Who?”

She sighs, looking deep in his eyes, as if searching for something. Maybe for the slightest reason to not trust him right now. "My older brother. Then my mother went to look for him on the streets ..." Nikolai curses under his breath and looks away to calm his nerves down. He doesn't need to hear the context - he knows, how bad it was. When he first saw it on the news, he thought “that's how they'll get a new angry generation, hungry for blood, growing up in shuddered families, witnessing silent disappearances of their loved ones.” So now, he sat in a hand-reach of one of those outcomes.

“What, you're going to say, you weren't there? Or maybe that you're sorry? I'll save you time: don't bother, I don't need anything from you,” she was tense, angry once again. But this time it felt different: she was actually scared, she slipped too much personal information out.

“My heart is full of pity.” He looks at his reflection in a train window. And just before she snaps back at him, Nikolai turns back to her and adds: “‘Hard to be a God’? Read it?” She doesn't answer, but it's obvious, how she recalls the quote and her rage gradually fades away.

***

If anyone asked her, where did they take the wrong turn - she wouldn't be able to answer. Her plan was solid and Nik was doing his part incredibly efficient. She got anything she needed even before she asked for it. Nikolai seemed to go full mind-reader mode on. He learned every step of the operation by heart and provided her with the most detailed plans of every location of their future mission. He did nothing wrong… And yet there she was, distracting the enemies, who rounded him up. It wasn't easy, but Nik and her made a pretty good team. What really bothered her was the timing: with that unexpected skirmish, they were now running late. And in her line of work, every second could be critical. So when they were finally done with an ‘obstacle’ - she rushed to her next point.

Nikolai was still somewhere behind, when she passed a group of teenagers, who seemed to be absolutely unbothered by the sounds of gunshots coming from the empty building from which she had just taken off at full speed. She heard the click of a lighter and a drawn-out whistle from somewhere on the side. She slowed down, but didn't even have time to turn around at the sound when she was thrown forward and engulfed in heat so strong that she couldn't even breathe in, let alone scream. And then the world around her descended to fire.

Nikolai was running behind her, when it all happened. He registered every single second of it, and that only made the whole experience more painful. He saw a bottle with a brownish cloth sticking out of the neck, saw how they set fire to the wick, swung and launched the bottle in her direction. It seemed, he even saw the smallest fragments of glass flying off to the sides when the bottle collapsed on the ground at her feet. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, as Nik saw every single detail of her agony. At first she ducked and fallen to the ground in attempt to roll over and put the fire, that caught on her, out. But the formula, that kids had in their bottle seemed to be more nasty, that an average Molotov. So the fire grew. And what was even worse: by the time Nik reached her - the flames were already clearly pale-blueish - a solid sign of some cheap synthetic being burned. The whole scene was quiet to the point, where it was unsettling: she was frantically rolling around, beating herself against the ground, yet not a single scream left her lips - she was only desperately gasping for an air. With one swift motion Nikolai unzipped his jacket, took it off and covered her back, beating lightly the spots, where the flames still appeared. For a few painful moments as he helped her fight the flames, they were both enveloped in thick smoke and the repulsive smell of burnt flesh, textile and hair. Her flushed face was smeared with dust and blood. She tried to cover her eyes with her hands, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Sh-h-h-h, sh-h, sh-h, I got you, I got you, you're ok!” Nikolai heard his own voice and realized how pathetic his lie sounded. She was anything but ok: shuddering and convulsing limbs, swollen eyelids, sporadic breaths and muffled whines. But he kept calming her down, holding her so that she did not touch the ground with her wounded, burned back. “C'mon, little one, breathe in. Look at me and take a deep breath. Just like that, good job!” Nik looked around: it wasn't safe to stay there any longer and no matter how hard she tried to stay quiet, every her next whimper was more potent as the pain shock washed out.

***

In other circumstances, Nikolai would be proud of himself. Never has he ever before found a ride, a safe place to hide in and a medic, who won't ask any questions that quickly.

He had taken all the lamps he found in the apartment into the living room and was now wiping down the old dining table with a rag soaked in alcohol. “Nik, please… I need to report on my status back to the base.” Her voice was weak, raspy and shaky. “It is done already. They're waiting for an update on an operation.” Nikolai pours a glass of water and brings it her. “Here, you need to drink, little one.” He returns to wiping the table when a glass flies past his ear and smashes against the wall. “Tvoyu mat`! Kakaya naher operatziya, ya yeyo provalila!*” Nik doesn't even flinch, he calmly walks up to the opposite wall, bends down and picks up the pieces of the broken glass. The sharp edges gleam predatory in the light of the lamps placed around the table. She usually avoided speaking her native language, no matter how hard he tried to initiate the talk. But right now, she must have been too furious and upset to choose her language. "They're waiting for your status update. Our operation... is not as important as the one you are about to have." Her eyes widen. “Who said that? For fuck's sake, Nik, I'm ok!”

She tries so lift her body off the couch, but fails, cold compresses slide down her skin and her face contorts in pain. “Doctor Nikolai said…” He comes closer, leans down and replaces compresses with new ones, trying to not look at what was beneath them for too long. It is no longer human skin - it is a dark crimson field of terror and concentrated pain. “Now lay still, little one, save energy.”

In a few hours, she doesn't feel anything but pain. Shame was gone first. When two men carried her to the table as a lifeless puppet, when the cold blade of the scissors barely touched her skin, when the cheap textile that had partially molded with her skin was cut at the seams and the lamps illuminated her vulnerable body - she had already ceased to be ashamed of her weakness, to worry about the fact that her sight could bring them disgust. Then the fear disappeared. The caustic "medical" smell of alcohol, the basin that Nikolai for some reason placed on the floor under her head, the doctor's remarks in a language that she could not make out - all this no longer worried her.

Pain is the only thing left, it consumes her, draws out screams, beats her like a hammer. Nikolai holds her face, brushes thumbs against tear trails, keeps talking to distract her. “Nu-nu, moya horoshaya, nu poterpi eshe, eshe chut`- chut`, umnitza moya.*” He looks tired, disturbed, and so deeply worried. She understands, that something is wrong, it's written all over his face. “Ne mogu dok je ne smiriš! Mora dublje disati!*” - snaps the doctor from behind her back.

Nikolai quickly nods at him, looks back in her eyes and makes the least expected suggestion. “Ok, my dear, let's sing a bit together.” And before she can figure out what Nick just asked her for, he starts humming softly into her face. “Pust` begut neuklyzhe peshehodi po luzham, a voda po asfal`tu rekoi…*” She looks at him in disbelief for a second. A freaking soviet children song about a ‘Birthday, that comes only once in a year’? Now? Here?! But then she feels a tremendously intense pain, as the medic begins removing a particularly huge fragment of smelted synthetic textile from one of her wounds. So she opens her mouth and start half hissing, half moaning the next line of the song. And it works: even though it doesn't sooth the pain - the measured rhythm of the song makes her breathe more evenly in time to sing the next line. “U-umnichka moya, molodetz kakaya!*” - cooes Nik and keeps singing along.

The scene is absolutely bizarre to every single person taking part in it. The flickering light of floor lamps directed at the table, the heavy smell of alcohol, blood, sweat and singed flesh, swearing in Croatian, English, Russian, a children's song, barely audible in the sobs.

When it all ends, the medic is escorted outside the flat. "Nikad nisi bio ovdje.*" Nikolai pairs it with a nice stack of banknotes and a gaze of a man, who isn't joking around.

***

She falls into a feverish dream, when all medical sedatives finally kick in. She doesn't know, how long she lies on a table, and how she ends in a bed. She doesn't hear her own screams, when she accidentally turns on her back while sleeping, but wakes up, when she feels his fingers brushing over her face. Maybe it's just another part of her dream, where she mumbles him something in their mother tongue, and he answers, a low voice reverberating in his chest, to which she is pressed in order to not roll back again. She is yet to realize, what exactly happened and what challenge is she now facing. But what she is certain of - there is an ally right next to her. Not a faceless sum of his past deeds, not the embodiment of everything she hated since childhood, having fled her country. No, there was a friend next to her now. “Nikolai? Why didn't you let Price simply extract us? Just call it my failure. I mean, since I've treated you like shit previously - I deserve to learn my lesson…” “Go to sleep, little one… My heart is full of pity.”

*Hochesh chto-nibud` skazat` - skazhi eto mne v litzo… (Russian) - You have anything to say - say it to my face…

*Tvoyu mat`! Kakaya naher operatziya, ya yeyo provalila! (Russian) - Fuck! What bloody operation are you talking about? I've just failed it!

Nu-nu, moya horoshaya, nu poterpi eshe, eshe chut`- chut`, umnitza moya. (Russian) - There-there, my dear, hold on just a little bit longer, my darling.

*Ne mogu dok je ne smiriš! Mora dublje disati! (Croatian) - I can't do it, till you steady her! She needs to breathe deeper!

*Pust` begut neuklyzhe peshehodi po luzham, a voda po asfal`tu rekoi… (Russian) - first line of a famous soviet song from a cartoon. Full version with English subtitles here.

*U-umnichka moya, molodetz kakaya! (Russian) - My darling, well done!

*Nikad nisi bio ovdje (Croatian) - You have never been here.

#cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod fanfic #mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty #nikolai cod #nikolai x you #cod angst #cod x reader #cod mv2 #cod nikolai #modern warfare 2 #cod x oc

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dearestones · 1 year

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One Step Ahead (Yandere! Russia x Reader)

Warnings: Yandere behavior, implied kidnapping.

Anonymous Request: Can i req one shot about yandere russia accidentally met his runaway darling (that escape 2 days ago) on train and what his next move

You should have run when you had the chance.

Years ago, when you had first met Russia, you had been just as nervous as the rest of your coworkers upon introduction. It was hard not to freeze up and back away at the very sight of him—over six feet tall and with a presence that demanded respect and attention. Even if you had exchanged minimal pleasantries, you felt your heart seize in your throat at the thought of continued conversation.

That day, you vowed to never get on his bad side.

However, while first impressions may have colored your perceptions of him at first, you found that Russia was a rather hilarious person once you got used to his blunt nature and dark humor. Witty and well read, whenever the both of you found each other alone (rare occasions, but you found yourself looking forward to them), Russia would give you battered books filled with his homeland’s poetry. Under hushed breath as other Nations milled around the room with political favors and current events in mind, Russia would translate bits and pieces of his favorite poems.

Pushkin, Pasternak, Nabakov.

Krylov, Lermonov, Yesenin.

Derieva, Dushkova, Ivinskaya.

You would have never known this had you not given Russia a chance, but his voice was comforting and soft. The way he would read in his native tongue first was to immerse you into his homeland’s most precious written words. Afterwards, as you would roll around the syllables and hushed breaths in your mind to try and recall the correct translation, he would gently transition into your native tongue. At first, his attempts were clumsy, but to know that he was willing to translate his most famous poetry into a tongue that wasn’t refined as his, filled you with warmth. Even as he apologized for his stumbling grammar and tenuous grasp on your vocabulary, you found yourself endeared.

In time, you also began toting around books of poetry from your homeland. Like him, you would start with a hushed, reverent tone in your own tongue before transitioning into his native Russian. Before long, these private poetry sessions extended from the short breaks in meetings to scheduled rendezvous that could take you from cute cafes to expensive restaurants.

Your other Nation friends were somewhat amused, but wary of the Russian’s intentions. Yet, they noted that your abilities to speak in the Slav’s tongue was becoming more fluent rather than practical. Furthermore, the interest in his culture and prolific bodies of literature had gone from professional curiosity to something bordering on close friendship. Yes, you had told your closest friends and colleagues, in the political arena Russia was a foe not to be ignored, but as a person who needed companionship just as anyone else? He was just a man.

What you didn’t expect from such a man, was the treatment that followed afterward.

Perhaps if you weren’t so loud about your friendship with Russia, if your friends hadn’t been so keen on butting into your affairs… Maybe if you had decided not to indulge in Russian poetry from the very beginning, you could have escaped without any hard feelings.

The fact of the matter was this:

Russia could be kind, but he had the choice to strip you away from everything you held dear.

Russia could be gentle, but he also had the capacity for cruelty far beyond your imagination.

Russia could have courted you and you would not have been the wiser had it not been for the fact that he felt slighted by your words.

Did you not realize that after all the time spent with him that you could no longer be friends? Russia loved his literature beyond anything else in the world? The words of his patriots had uplifted not only his hearts, but also the souls of countless citizens living in his lands. Just because you were a fellow Nation that happened to stay with him during breaks in meetings didn’t mean that he would read to them about poetry and provide a translation in the language that most reminded them of home.

No.

He only did that for you because you were special.

Could you see him doing that for Lithuania? For America? For China?

You were special and he reserved that title just for you. How dare you throw that back in his face and claim that you were merely friends!

So, Russia took you.

He hid you away in the depths of his wintry lands and away from prying eyes. From time to time, you would move from different abodes, from dacha to dacha, region to region. There was not one moment that you would be allowed to head back to your homeland, not without Russia’s permission at least.

On one evening, after a few weeks of getting used to living near one of his cities, you finally got the courage to sneak out and board a train. It had taken some time, quick thinking, and gentle persuasion, but you had done it. Preparation had been tricky, but you managed to score a rucksack with a number of practical articles of clothing, documentation that proved that you were the representative of your home, and money. A part of you felt bad for stealing the money, but at this point, it was either you would go home or not at all.

And to many Nations who had the misfortune to be taken away to another Nation’s household, that was basically imprisonment and a one way road to a slow, but painful existence. It was rare for Nations to die when withheld for too long from their native soil, but it wasn’t unheard of.

(It was a good thing that regeneration was available. However, it wasn’t exactly viable because it was a lengthy process that took up too much energy).

After two days of alternating from trekking around on foot and hitchhiking, you finally boarded a train. The platform was densely crowded, the packed bodies talking to each other about their plans and other inane chatter. You paid them no mind. Amidst the crowd, you were sure to be invisible.

Finally, after what seemed like an inordinately long amount of time, you and the crowd began to head inside. Lugging your rucksack on your back, you passed by several compartments until you reached one that was empty. Inside, you took note of the available amenities before settling yourself onto the bed. While you had initially felt bad about the money that you took, you wanted revenge. Was booking the most expensive overnight train petty and dangerous? Probably, but after the torture Russia had put you through, you thought that it was appropriate.

The worst that Russia could do once you were finally back home was to make accusations and point fingers. International incidents were supposed to be the product of human affairs, what Nations did between themselves on a purely personal level was up to the parties involved.

Content now that you were on your way to nearest neighboring country who could help you, you unpacked a few of your essentials and began to settle in for the night.

You were finally free.

Russia was a patient man.

Not many people knew that, but while he was quick to anger, he let the rage freeze and crystallize in his veins, the shards of ice hardening his heart. It had been a while since someone had incurred his wrath quite like this, but he knew from the telltale signs of his political aides and secretary shying away from him, that his temper was slowly bleeding into his normally personable disposition. If he was feeling charitable, he would have felt sympathetic, but at the thought of his lover traipsing away in the dead of night without so much as a goodbye, but with at least two months’ worth of his salary in their hands, he thought himself justified when he yelled at his secretary for their inefficient organization.

Today, he was to board a train and attend a conference in his capital city. While he would rather search for his dearest lover, he knew that this meeting had to take top priority. If any of his neighbors or God forbid America found out that not only had he kidnapped one of their fellow Nations but also lost them… Russia was always ready for an altercation, but he would rather not have a repeat of the Cold War.

As many of his citizens and a number of tourists gathered on the platform, he kept himself preoccupied at the very back of the crowd nearest to the train station. He arrived fifteen minutes early, keen on keeping to his appointment and knowing that if he stayed a moment longer, his volatile energy would have caused the humans under his direct command to be more skittish than usual. Poor things, them.

As he glanced up from his phone, his eyes scanned the growing crowd. Young children tagged along with their adult companions while a few couples mingled and held each other. At the sight, Russia felt his heart harden once more, the ice in veins refusing to melt even as he heard someone whisper about their plans for a future date. Moments before Russia could tune out the rest of the world, his eyes caught sight of a particular person who tried to keep themselves in the very middle of the crowd.

Now, normally this sort of person would have escaped Russia’s notice long before now, but he couldn’t help but stare.

That rucksack.

That coat.

The stance.

The figure underneath that heavy coat that was meant to conceal height and width.

Could it be…?

Suddenly, the crowd began surging forward onto the train, the person that Russia was observing followed suit. Hurriedly, Russia pushed forward, neglecting to act the part of a polite politician as he carelessly bumped into the humans who dared to get in his way. Had they no idea that they were in the presence of a Nation on a mission?

Woe to those who thought it prudent to demand recompense for his actions.

And hell to the rest of the train if he found out that the person he was tailing was not his beloved.

Close as a shadow, but not so close as to arouse suspicion, Russia trailed behind the figure. At this point, when he saw the person walking in the same rhythm as his lover, when he heard them mutter something under their breath, and when he paid careful attention to the rucksack on their back, he knew it was them. It had to be!

When his lover rounded the corner and faced their compartment door, Russia took note of the number and placement, carefully withdrawing from the area before his lover could see him.

As he steadied the heavy beating of his heart, Russia flexed his large hands within his woolen gloves. He was feeling poetic and emotional, but he thought that the ice that froze his blood was steadily melting.

He felt alive again.

But, if he were to have you in his arms again, he would truly be free.

As he strode back to his assigned compartment, he unlocked his phone and began contacting certain people and Nations for a few favors.

You had missed out on last night’s poetry session. Perhaps you should rectify that, no?

DISCLAIMER: I do not condone yandere behavior outside of fictional settings. Please don’t mistake the actions of fictional characters displayed in works of fiction to be considered harmless in real life.

If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel free https://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.

HETALIA AXIS POWERS/WORLD SERIES MASTERLIST

#hetalia #hetalia axis powers #hetalia world series #hws #aph #hws russia #aph russia #x reader #gender neutral reader #yandere #yandere character #yandere behavior #yandere hetalia x reader #yandere russia #yandere russia x reader #dearestones #devintrinidad

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effervescentdragon · 6 months

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🕊 for the bird ask game please <3

thank you so much for the ask! <3 here is a part of the spy au, pierre and charles being cute and adorable :)

🕊️ a sweet quote

“Do you have a headache?”

Charles shrugged a little, his muscles moving underneath Pierre’s arm. He smelled of strong coffee and artificial cherry, which Pierre knew came from that chewing gum he constantly chewed.

“Don’t give me that.” Pierre squeezed his shoulder a little, ignoring Danny’s out-of-tune whistling from behind them. “Do you have your sleeping mask here?” He frowned when Charles shook his head. “When are you going home?”

“I’m not,” Charles said softly. “After your brief, I’ll be staying here, because I’ll be on comms for Daniel. Nobody else can do it, because fucking Brazil, so I’ll sleep here. It will be okay, don’t worry.”

Charles’ reassuring smile may work if it were anyone else but Pierre, because Pierre knew Charles. Sometimes better than he knew himself.

“I’ll drop by your apartment before I leave, I’m guessing I’ll be behind Daniel?” He didn’t wait for a response. “I’ll bring you the mask and clothes, and I’m guessing you also don’t have any valerian here, so I’ll bring that too.”

Charles opened his mouth to argue, but Pierre just squeezed his shoulder again.

“No, calamar, you know you won’t be able to sleep properly otherwise. Plus, it’s nothing, a twenty-minute detour from my place. Not the first nor the last time I’ve come to your rescue,” he added with a cheeky grin. Charles bit his lip, and Pierre had to restrain himself from staring at it.

“They’re sending you with a businessman on an urgent trip cover, so you’ll only have a carry-on, no clothes. If you don’t need anything specific from your apartment, you can just get ready at mine?” Charles’ voice lowered as they passed some of the IT minions, who only nodded at them. “You still have your go-bag there from when you came back from Russia, and I washed it all.” He chuckled. “Almost nicked myself on that knife you had bundled in your dress shirts.”

“That - that works,” Pierre said, his chest tight. “I’ll just get ready at yours, then come back here, okay?”

Charles nodded at him, then smiled wide, and Pierre wanted to touch his dimples. He grabbed Pierre’s hand on his shoulder and squeezed it once, twice, three times. “Thank you, Pear.”

“Always,” Pierre said, and then they were at the door leading to S’ office, so Pierre dropped his arm from Charles’ shoulders and let him go in first.

#gold and gifts reference #piarles #bird wip asks #f1 rpf #akira answers asks #lovely moots 💕

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irithnova · 1 month

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Thinking about Mongolia's thoughts about the communist era hmm.

I think that he saw it as like. It needed to happen whether he liked it or not in order to ensure his independence. I don't think he jumps up and down in joy when remembering it but he saw it as a necessity to his survival. It's a pretty complicated subject as there were atrocities such as the purges that took place, a lot of which specifically targeted ethnic minority groups in Mongolia and certain cultural heritages that were trodden on (the use of the Mongolian script, monasteries destroyed) however he's never going to deny that that period is what stopped him from losing independence completely and well. Being in Tibet's position (which is something he's incredibly sore about) even if there are very regrettable things that took place during that period.

I do think Mongolia is quite prideful so he certainly wasn't happy on relying so heavily on Soviet help but I also don't think he's so prideful that he's stupid and turns down much needed help just to be prideful/stubborn. Russia tried to frame their relationship as being sort of like an older brother helping out a younger brother ("akh duu") and Mongolia found this pretty... Patronising/annoying (especially considering the fact that he's older than Russia though not by a huge amount). He can definitely be stubborn but he's also very pragmatic and if he needed to enter into a coercive relationship (politically) with Russia to make sure China didn't swallow him then so be it - he could complain about it later. And even "later" I think his heart is quite hardened to what happened.

Not in the sense that he doesn't care about what happened or regrets nothing but moreso he's like "what's done is done". I've said this before but I don't think he's one to dwell on things that upset him (most of the time), and while this sounds great this isn't always to his benefit and he can end up seeming disingenuous or even callous when asked about things when in reality, it is something that upset/upsets him but he's not one to liberally indulge in his feelings to anyone who asks - especially if it's to do with a complicated situation.

I've read that a lot of older Mongolians are more sympathetic to communism than younger ones and while I don't think Mongolia would brand himself as a #proudcommunist yeah I do think he's somewhat sympathetic-to-communism-leaning (he's boomer-leaning to me) mainly because Mongolia did benefit in some significant ways from that era - literacy rates skyrocketed - in fact Mongolia was the first universally literate country in Asia, child mortality rates decreased greatly, promotion of higher education, better healthcare, a Mongolian was even put into space (I'm not at all trying to detract from the bad that happened or excuse it). I think it also stems from the fact that he's just more... Used to it? Mongolia was the second country in the world to adopt communism and the first in Asia, bypassing capitalism completely and going from a feudal monarchy straight to a communist society. Mongolia only stopped being communist in the 90s.

Again - the era of communism is one that Mongolia has complex feelings about because yes the improvements in the aforementioned sectors were staggering. Whilst the famous Mongolian quote goes "I'd rather suffer under my own rule rather than live happily under someone elses" and yes Mongolia can be a stubborn bastard, he will acknowledge that Soviet aid ensured his independence however coercive his relationship with Russia was at the time and well, I think improved living conditions for their people would make any nation pleased at the very least. However the bad that took place is not something he can ignore so easily at the same time. Which is why I say his feelings about it are so complex.

Side note but I read that Russians who visited Mongolia particularly liked their fur coats and rugs which could be purchased for a cheaper price than at back home and I can only imagine Russia pestering Mongolia for discounts on products (which I think he still does today tbh Mongolian cashmere goes hard). There were actually already Russians living in Mongolia before Soviet intervention however these Russians were descendants of white Russians, colonists from the Tsarist era etc, so there was a level of animosity between "local" Russians already in Mongolia and Soviet specialists being sent to Mongolia during the era of Soviet interventionism. Mongolia personally really did not care about how much either group didn't like each other as long as they weren't shit stirring with the Mongolian population. The Soviet specialists sent to Mongolia were actually interviewed by the KGB on how to behave - they had to be on their best behaviour in Mongolia so as to not ruin the reputation of the Soviets.

This did not matter though because in the 70's to 80's the glaring disparities between the Soviets and local Mongolians became too obvious to ignore. Soviet workers who travelled to Mongolia for work did so so that they could get enough money for cars and apartments back home. Soviet specialists in Mongolia were being paid as much as a deputy government minister back home! There were elite stores in Mongolia that had very high quality produce that only Soviet specialists and family members of Mongolian officials were allowed in - guards were even posted to prevent ordinary Mongolians from entering. So much for that older brother younger brother relationship. Despite Soviet help, as mentioned before Mongolia found it to be patronising, and when Russia would go on a speech about how he helped lift Mongolia from his "backwards and dark" past yes there was a bit of an eyeroll and a hurt ego. Mongolia's tolerance of Russia was seriously waning.

The democratic revolution in the 90's saw Mongolia shed its Russian influence and Mongolians began to be more openly critical of this "older brother younger brother" relationship with Russia - Soviet specialists in Mongolia felt threatened by this and even moved out. Nationalism was on the rise and people were once again singing Genghis Khan's praises. You know that video that got really popular of that Mongolian guy throat singing "Chinggis Khaan Magtaal" on a mountain? That was written in the 90's! I'd say Mongolia was pleased at the very least about this rise in nationalism and an invigorated interest in history and Chinggis Khaan in his people but lets remember this was yet another transition he had to deal with after getting used to communism. Despite a rise in nationalist spirit, there was a lot of unemployment and people turned to bad coping mechanisms during the 90's/early 2000s, I heard that some folks were even afraid of going outside - shops were empty and everything and during this transition period there was something of a shared hope in people yet no one really knew what was to come. Any major transitionary period for a nation is never going to be easy and this was no exception. I think Mongolia was kind of like, trying to bite the bullet and get through with it even if he himself felt uncertain because all you can do really is move forward. I think Russia was er. Unhappy about this but did not outright say it to Mongolia's face... He'd more so "tease" him and tell him his Russian was getting bad for example and if he needed some practice or something (note: Mongolia's Russian was still perfectly fine lol).

He's in a much better state now but there was no denying that the shift from communism after being in it for so long and getting used to a new system after shifting from a feudal monarchy to straight to communism in the first place was hard. When he remembers the communist era its not a distant memory for him - remember, Mongolia was a communist country without ever going through a capitalist period beforehand and this new era isn't even half a century old. He knows that that era was integral to keeping his independence and there were some much needed changes that were taken care of during that time (healthcare, education etc) however he will not forget the regrettable things that took place. This is also why I think Mongolia's relationship with Russia is so complex but I think I'll leave that for another post lol.

#hetalia #aph mongolia #hws mongolia #hetalia world stars #hetalia world twinkle #hetalia world series #hetalia mongolia #historical hetalia #aph russia #hws russia #hetalia russia #ivan braginsky

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