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mirkwoodmunson · 1 year

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Would you pretty please turn this picture into an Eddie munson fanfiction? I've been searching the Internet and have yet to find anything like this. If you not comfortable, I totally understand!!

me: writing break!

mailbox: 🫶

me: …..umm ANYWAY *frantic typing*

I LOVE THIS PROMPT SO MUCH U HAVE NO IDEA

tw: cursing, angst, panic/anxiety attack, dissociation, night terrors, depressed/anxious reader, post-v2 (fixit)

it takes a long time for your nights to go back to a state of semi-normalcy. a long time of regaining the ability to lay in bed comfortable and calm and eager for sleep, a long time of healing and bandages and pained tears, a long time of struggling for the smallest crumbs of comfort. but you had each other, and that made it easier of course — but it was still an uphill battle for those first few months. there was a lot of heartache, a lot of tears and strain, but far be it from eddie and you to let the darkness come out on top. you were both fighters, and when the battle got too rough for one of you, the other always managed to gather enough strength to keep the both of you pushing, moving forward. persevering.

when the darkness got the better of you, eddie was there to blind it with his brilliance.

nights… you’d come to dread them. during the day the sun could blot out your thoughts, soothe worries with its warmth, and you had things to do and places to go and people to see; the day didn’t give you the time to worry. but when night fell, when it was just you and eddie and the quiet — not that you didn’t enjoy those things, but with the night and the quiet, and the memories you and eddie now shared… nights were still sometimes difficult.

the thing is, eddie doesn’t remember that night. he doesn’t remember anything after the bats.

but you do.

you remember, and you’ve had to watch it again, and again — at first it was every time you tried to sleep, then just when you slept at night, but always sleeping during the day became a problem. then after a while, after nights started to feel somewhat tolerable, it was every other night. every few nights. you were down to once every few weeks now, but even then, the idea of just trying to get some rest had become so stressful it was just a frustrating cycle of exhaustion at this point.

and how could you bother eddie with this? he knew, but you didn’t complain beyond the initial waking up from the dreams. sure he didn’t remember that night, but he still remembered facing the bats. he still had to go through the stint in the hospital, recovery at home. you were both dealing with your individual traumas. he always assured you you were allowed to feel it too, you didn’t need to act tough around him — you’d become so quiet. so tired. he would always tell you the way through was together, that he had your back. but you still felt like it would burden him. far be it from you to be a burden.

really though, there’s only so many times you can say you’re okay when you’re not before it becomes too much to handle alone.

tonight it takes you by surprise. tonight you fall asleep in eddie’s arms, but you wake up and, you’re there. you’re in the wasteland that is the upside down and you’re running but you can’t run fast enough and there’s not enough air in your lungs. the red flashes are too bright, too disorienting, you can just barely make out the swarm.

when they suddenly drop from the air, you see the body they surround and you drop too. it’s too much, too heavy, too real — the little air you have rips from your lungs and you crawl to him, you know you can save him if you just go fast enough but you can’t move any faster, no matter how hard you scream you can’t get to him any quicker, like you’re pulling yourself through drying concrete. you hear dustin crying.

you reach, so hard your muscles pull and you cry, and you grab his vest and drag yourselves together, gripping him tight light you’re about to be pulled away from him again. you try and talk him awake but your lips move slow too, it’s muffled in your ears like you’re underwater, clogged and distant. if you’re loud enough, cry hard enough, scream loud enough, maybe he’ll wake up. your foreheads are pressed together as you beg for him to wake the fuck up —

“please wake up please wake up please wake up,” his eyes snap open and he holds your face, talking to you quickly, quietly, murmuring a pleading song.

you feel like you’re being pulled up through water.

you wheeze deep and suddenly breach the surface, gasping wildly into a dark space, but that voice remains and keeps guiding you from the murky depths; it’s soft, always soft — calling to you with a tender earnestness.

“i’m here. i’m here — you’re safe; you’re awake.”

you start to wail, and eddie leans over to turn on the lamp before pulling you into his lap, into his arms, careful but quick. he tries not to waver, not to show how startled he is — but he can’t help the tremble in the way that he holds you, the break in his voice.

“it’s okay, y/n it’s okay — i promise. you’re not there. you’re home. i’m here.”

“i-i-i — fine — i’m fine — i’m fine,” it almost hurts to speak, takes effort between the deep breaths and hiccups and sobs. eddie leans you away a bit, pushes damp hair from your cheeks and cups them in warm calloused hands that are firm but loving, urging you to look at him.

through the tears you see his eyes are wide but tired, concerned and sad and alarmed, when you try to look away he holds you still, shaking his head firmly.

“no. no sweetheart you’re not okay.”

he looks at you a moment longer before pulling you back into him as you shudder, quaking with the force of it, gripping his shirt tight to ground yourself as you weep into his shoulder.

eddie shushes you softly, holds you so tight his arms tremble and hides his face in your hair.

“i’m here. you’re safe. i’ve got you. i promise.”

“wh-what about you??”

“i’m safe too, baby. we’re safe. we’re home.”

one of his hands slides around one of yours, soothes it open to release his shirt and then guides it down to the bedsheets.

“feel our bed? the sheets?”

he takes your quieting cries as a ‘yes,’ and smiles small, kissing your temple. you’re starting to focus on him, on your surroundings.

“feel my shirt? an’ my arms?”

you nod, running your thumb over the faded black fabric held tight in your fist, full of holes and tears. you’d got it for eddie when he took you to see judas priest, the metal conqueror tour. you guys hadn’t started dating yet. some dude spilt beer on you and shouted at you for the audacity, eddie had punched him in the face, and then you’d started dating.

“hey! there’s a smile!” eddie peers down at you with a smile of his own, and you sniffle but hold it for him through the stubborn tears. “there you go. where’d that come from?”

“you,” you respond simply, tearfully.

eddie laughs softly and pulls you in again, rocking you in his arms, muttering gentle affirmations.

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chimeride · 2 years

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I've got another suggestion! My boyfriend was wondering what an orca whale would look like with legs.

#suggestion #cal #vermis-in-filum #sorry it took so long !! im way slower now ahah #i took so much time that you change your username by the time ahaha #i see there is an arctic theme in your suggestions #orca #otter #sea creature #the Unknown #monster #chimera #bestiary #creature design #ink

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lunar-years · 2 years

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An underrated little jancy moment in s3 is right after the dark room kiss, when Nancy first pitches the Driscoll story to the newspaper team and Jonathan stands outside the room to wait for her because he suspects it’s not going to go over well and wants to be there. Then when it does go poorly and she storms out, he immediately jumps in to try and comfort her.

His little “hey, it’s okay” gets me every time. He’s trying SO hard.

#jancy #anyone who claims he didn’t try and support her in season 3…I’m in your walls #also reminds me of that weird interview quote where Natalia suggested that maybe Steve is more of a caretaker for her than Jonathan…#like…where? lol #these two take care of each other!!#stranger things #Jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #(p.s. sorry for the wonky screenshot idk how anything works so I just took a picture of my computer screen lol)

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funnierasafictive · 3 months

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Bruh we read your tags on gravity falls and were like “Hah! We don’t have any fictives from Gravity Falls! Guess we’re just built different!” And then someone reminded me of an alter who while they don’t identify as a fictive, their internal appearance is literally that one human Bill design. Systems really can’t escape Gravity Falls

Exactly!

It's why I can't watch gravity falls because i genuinely might become mentally ill !!! (half joking) but like, I'm of the belief that systems should do whatever they want and not be afraid to split. "be cringe but be free". but Gravity Falls is on a different level. its not that ill feel cringe, it's that i'm going to get psychosis

#ask #anon #i'm not kidding by the way #but also youre allowed to laugh at how i phrased this lol #the reason we dont have a gravity falls fictive is because we just.. didnt grow up with it!#we were like 'ooooh' and then mlp grabbed us by the collar and took us to the pony side of the world instead lol #also im not trying to say you SHOULDNT watch gravity falls #its a sweet and funny and very genius show! if you think you'll be fine its suggestable #ITS JUST.. one of those medias where systems who Know are like.. cant recommend it to other systems lol because the splitting gains are lik #you know #it's like Sally Face #except I would say that Sally Face is genuinely worse #gravity falls has beautiful messages but sally face is so horrible #<- has a sally face fictive #<- hates steve gabarg #from kris p #also im soo distracted updating my nyxus carrd. hi. sorry

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pinkished · 2 months

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ok i have to ask (if you can pick, that is) what’s your favorite my chemical romance song(s)? and also, any favorite album/era? (feel free to just gush about mcr if you’d like lol, i’m all ears!)

aaaaah eli, hello and thank you so much for the ask beeb!!! <3 my inner emo teen is practically screaming with joy haha also i'm s o sorry, i couldn't pick just one *insert skull emoji here* favorite mcr songs: - the foundations of decay - make room!!! - ambulance - na na na - sing - planetary (GO!) - party poison - S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W - DESTROYA - the kids from yesterday - dead! - welcome to the black parade - house of wolves - sleep - disenchanted - helena - the ghost of you fave album for sure is danger days but the pure nostalgia and aesthetic goes to black parade for era <3 I haven't listed to them in a hot minute but we're changing that rn!! ^_^ always feel free to drop in my inbox beeb, and if you're feeling up to it i'd be hyped to know all of your faves too!! so so much love to you, this was hella fun and i'm gonna have a good time bringing their stuff back into my listening <3

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hendolish · 5 months

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Love your ficlets! One idea, Trent/Hendo where Hendo is insecure about his place in Trent’s life now. “Is Virgil a better captain than me?” and “Can Dominik fuck you this well?”

trent alexander-arnold/jordan henderson | better than me? ♡

The familiar hum of Liverpool is replaced by the tranquil ambiance of Trent's current residence. Jordan, once an integral part of the Liverpool squad and Trent's life, now finds himself standing in Trent's living room, a mix of nostalgia and insecurity clouding his thoughts.

Trent, ever perceptive, senses the weight in Jordan's eyes. "Hendo, you alright?" he asks, a genuine concern lining his voice as he fixes the both of them a drink. That had been the plan after all.

Jordan hesitates, then admits, "It's just weird being back, you know? I miss this place."

"What, my house?" Trent can't resist teasing, causing the corners of Jordan's mouth to twitch upwards. Then Trent nods, understanding the unspoken longing. "It's not the same without you, mate."

As they settle onto the couch drinks in hand, the atmosphere shifts. The air becomes charged with unspoken words, the tension palpable. Trent glances at Jordan, and their eyes lock in a silent exchange that speaks volumes.

"I've been thinking a lot," Jordan confesses, his voice low and contemplative.

"About?" Trent prompts, sensing the underlying current of emotions.

"About us, about Liverpool, about everything," Henderson admits, rare vulnerability on display. "I just wonder if you still... need me around."

Trent's gaze softens, the depth of his feelings evident. "Hendo, you're irreplaceable. Leaving Liverpool doesn't change that."

Henderson sighs, a mixture of relief and yearning. "I miss this," he admits, sweeping his hand across the room, "and I miss you."

Trent inches closer, their proximity stirring memories of shared moments on and off the pitch. Henderson's eyes trace the contours of Trent's face, the familiar features that have been etched into his heart.

Their lips meet in a tentative kiss, a gentle exploration of what was and what could be. The room fills with the warmth of their shared history, the unspoken understanding that transcends words.

As the kiss deepens, the weight of separation melts away. Their hands find each other instinctively, fingers intertwining in a silent promise. The chemistry between them is undeniable, the connection forged over years refusing to fade.

Amidst the tender caresses and passionate kisses, a question hangs in the air. It lingers, unspoken but tangible, until Jordan presses the question against the younger's lips.

"Is Virgil a better captain than me?"

Trent, taken aback, pauses. Jordan knows, of course, that he both can't and won't answer. Loyal to a fault both ways.

The question lingers, a vulnerable admission of insecurity. Yet, in that moment, words are unnecessary. Trent responds not with speech but with actions, pulling Jordan closer, deepening the connection between them.

They fall into bed easily, like its five years ago all over again, and Jordan enjoys pressing Trent back against the sheets, laying the younger out beneath him as he pants into his mouth and his blunt fingernails rake at his back.

"Want you, Hendo."

Trent tells him once he's finished fingering himself open, Jordan staring openly as Trent stretches himself out for him, every word caught in his throat.

He presses in slowly, wanting to feel each and every quiver of Trent's as he eases himself inside of him, stretching him open, and he can't resist but capture his plump lips again. Red and bitten.

Trent latches onto his shoulders as he begins moving, holding Jordan close against him as he fucks into him, punctuating every thrust with a delightful gasp that Jordan makes it his duty to swallow.

"I've got you." Jordan reassures him as Trent's hikes his legs around his waist and pulls him more closely against him, letting loose and moaning loudly as Jordan slips even deeper inside of him.

Jordan smiles to himself and thrusts inside of him sharply once again, "That's right baby. Can Dominik fuck you this well?"

Jordan watches Trent's eyes flash, but his answer is nothing but a string of moans once Jordan takes his neglected cock into his hand, pumping slowly in time with his thrusts before he's brought to the edge, spilling over Jordan's fist.

He comes himself at the image of Trent fucked-out beneath him, eyes fluttering shut as his stomach quivers with pleasure, legs still hooked around Jordan and continuing to guide him inside.

"Good boy."

Jordan tells him as Trent continues to take it all until his cock is pumped dry, spilling himself into the younger man, and seals his proclamation with a kiss.

♡

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snekverse · 2 years

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Garrance for B1 or B3?

Garrance in B1!! Thanks for your patience, hope you enjoy! <3

og post here, still open for requests <3

#asks #snek sketches #my art #garrance #garroth ro'meave #laurance zvhal #aphmau #mystreet #aphmau mystreet #aphmau fanart #this was fun and I enjoyed it!!#genuinely sorry it took a few days I was hoping to have it out in a few hrs but I got Busy :(#n e ways don't be afraid to send requests!#even if it takes a little bit I promise I do see your suggestions and I'm probs working on it as we speak lmao #this goes for gen art requests not just this specific thing!!#requests

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alwaysbethewest · 2 months

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I tend to find the “write the fics you want to see” argument pretty weak unless it’s directed at people who try to coerce their favorite writers into fulfilling their specific and usually very detailed ideas. I’m a horrible writer and wouldn’t even consider myself one. It genuinely pains me to do it. I’m just a reader seeking an eclair in a world full of donuts. Just point me in the direction of a patisserie and I’ll be happy. But all I currently see is a Dunkin on every corner. That’s fine. No hate to DD if that’s what you want. I go there myself sometimes. I lost my train of thought because I love all pastries. Anyway. I hate that there’s the constant need to add a disclaimer.

Hmm, well I think you and I will probably never look at this in quite the same way since I am a writer. There's a part of me that feels like, if I am putting up a critique about what's out there I should probably also be able and willing to at least articulate, if not actually write, what kind of fic I do want to see existing. (Which—I have dipped my toes in with a couple of drabbles! But I think it would be about a hundred times easier for me to go bake an actual batch of eclairs from scratch than to write a full length Joel fic right now lol.) But I get what you mean that readers should be able to express a desire for what they'd love to see more of even if they don't have the ability to create it themselves. If it's being done nicely that's totally fair.

I think the reason I keep feeling like I need to add disclaimers around this is... There's a lot of vulnerability in writing and posting for others to read. And when you're already in a vulnerable position it's very easy to get discouraged by negative feedback (or even just a lack of feedback at all; it sucks feeling like you're posting into the void). I know that a lot of writers in this fandom are young and/or fairly new to writing or sharing their work and if they're following me I want those writers to know that they do not need to listen to what I've been saying here if what I'm saying makes them feel targeted or discouraged about their fics. All I want for them is to keep going and growing and finding their voice and creating the things that feel right and fun and delicious to THEM. Even if that means that some hungry readers never do get their eclairs. So be it 🤷‍♀️

#sorry i took your metaphor and ran with it at the end there #i guess to put it another way i'd say:#it's more important to me that writers get to write what they want #than it is that readers get to read what they want #and i'm not trying to suggest that YOU are entitled #but just recognizing that there ARE some readers who act entitled #and fail to recognize that even the most sugary sprinkle-laden donut still takes a real human person effort and heart to produce #anonymous #ask #food

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triforce-of-mischief · 1 year

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Secret Santa

@merriclo Merry Christmas!!! Here's some winter fluff featuring your favorite boys! 💜

~ 1800 words, rated G, no warnings ~

AO3

Reblogs > Likes!

The low creak of a footstep on a wooden stair rang through Wild’s house, instantly rousing the lightest of sleepers. Three heads popped up to look at Wild, who had paused midstep. He slowly lowered his foot, clearing the remaining steps before tiptoeing over to the others.

“Wild, what are you doing? Are you going somewhere?” Wind asked.

“I want to show you something,” Wild whispered. “Anybody who’s awake enough can come now. The rest of the sleepyheads have the whole day to come out and I want to go now while it’s early.”

“I want to see!”

“Take me take me please!”

Wind and Mask jumped up from their bedrolls, dancing around Wild in hushed excitement.

Legend stretched and got up as well. “You’ll have your hands full with the two of them, I may as well join you.”

Wild ducked into the alcove under the stairs and brought out warm clothes for each of them. Legend pinned a ruby-set brooch to his hat and tugged his boots over multiple layers of socks. Wild showed Wind and Mask how to put on their snowquill sets, tucking in hems and rolling up sleeves where they were too long for the smaller kids. They giggled when they noticed the tail feathers on their tunics, admiring how they looked like Rito.

While the other three watched in confusion, Wild examined everybody’s boots before grabbing cloth-wrapped bundles from the alcove. He handed them out, saying, “Careful, they’re heavy.”

They were heavy, and Mask struggled to shift his bundle around in his arms so Wind could lift the cloth-

“No peeking!”

The boys pouted, but decided that listening to Wild was a smarter choice than risking him telling them that they couldn’t go at all. The mystery bundles would have to stay just that for a little while longer.

“Is everyone ready?” Wild asked, giving the group a final check. They all nodded and with a flourish, Wild opened the front door.

The world was completely silent and still; the birds and frogs were sleeping through the cold. The early morning sun gave a glowing effect to the blanket of white that coated everything as far as they could see. The ground, the trees, even the roofs of the colorful model houses down the path, were all resting under a thick layer of-

“Snow!” Mask and Wind laughed, pushing past Wild and immediately finding a snowdrift to kick. Legend walked after them, much slower, taking in the change of scenery.

“Hateno’s beautiful in the winter, isn’t it?” Wild said, joining the vet for an appreciative moment.

“It is,” Legend agreed. He looked down at his mysterious package. “But what are these for?”

“You’ll find out soon! LAST ONE THERE GETS THE CUCCO REVENGE SQUAD!” Wild yelled, sprinting across the bridge and down the hill. Indignant shouts came from the others as they stopped what they were doing and took off after the speedy champion.

Snow crunched under stampeding boots as Wild led them past Hateno’s front entrance, through the woods, and across the boulder-filled field. They rounded the final corner and the two youngest heroes cheered as they discovered where Wild was taking them. The waterfall which fed the small lake at the corner of the valley was frozen solid, as well as the lake itself. It was a beautiful, natural ice rink.

Wild guided them to a few logs lining the edge of the lake and told them to sit. “Okay, you can open your packages now!”

Cloth flew through the air as Wind and Mask flung the wrapping away, leaving them to stare at the contents in confusion. “Knife shoes?” Mask questioned, examining the strange item.

“Not ‘knife shoes’, kid,” Legend chuckled. “Ice skates!” He knelt in front of Mask and began to remove the sprite’s regular boots. “See how smooth the blade is, just like your sword? It cuts cleanly into the ice and distributes your weight so you can keep your balance.” He took the skates when Mask offered them and fit them snugly on the kid’s feet. Out of the corner of his eye, Legend saw Wild doing the same for Wind.

The young heroes winced as their older brothers pulled the laces tight before tying them in elaborate knots. “Can’t you loosen it a little?” Wind complained.

Wild shook his head. “The tighter the better, same as adventuring boots. Loose skates give you wobbly ankles, and you could hurt yourself. I bet you don’t want that, right?” He tugged the knot to ensure its stability, told Wind to wait another minute, and went to put on his own skates. Legend did the same, then returned to Mask and helped him to his feet.

Wild and Legend guided Wind and Mask to the lake itself, helping them find their balance as their skates bit into the slippery ice. Wild was a bit unsteady but able to correct himself, and Legend couldn’t exactly call himself inexperienced. The kids were soon able to support themselves and the four fell into their own rhythms, carving sloppy circles around the circumference of the lake. Wild tried a variety of risky tricks, always sure to keep his distance whenever he lifted his skates high in the air. Wind stared at him in envy, unable to do more than shuffle along with his skates barely leaving the ice. Legend glided swiftly and easily, having to double back more than a few times to lift Wind from where he had fallen on his butt. Each time, Legend would attempt to dust frozen crystals from the Rito feathers on the backside of Wind's tunic. In turn, Wind would screech and launch himself at the vet, propelling himself forward with no means to stop while Legend soared backwards out of his reach. Then Mask would speed past them, distracting everybody with a couple of effortless pirouettes.

“How is he so good already? It sure seemed like this is his first time,” Wild marveled, watching the sprite zip around with a care in the world.

“Beats me,” Legend huffed, though Wild could see the faint hint of a proud smile.

“Uh, guys? A little help here?” Wind called from the other side of the lake. The older teens looked over to see the sailor slowly inching backwards, his skates and gravity working together with a mind of their own. Wind’s knees were bent, his arms flailing, and he was clearly nervous with no reference for how close he was to the shore.

“If you can’t figure out how to stop, just sit down!” Wild shouted back. “You can stand up again from there.”

“But I don’t wanna touch the ice!” Wind cried. “I’ll get frostbite!”

“I’ll get him,” Legend sighed, and skated over to the sailor.

Wind made the mistake of frantically reaching out to Legend, immediately forfeiting any remaining balance. His skates gave way and he tumbled to the ice, catching himself with his hands before realizing what had happened. “IT’S COLD!” he yelled, quickly pulling them away.

“Of course it is, what did you expect?” Legend sighed and offered a hand to help Wind back up.

“I’m not stupid!” Wind protested, desperately clinging to Legend’s arm. “It’s just annoying, is all. And I’m the worst skater out of us by far,” he mumbled.

“What happened to the Hero of Winds who never gives up? You’ll be a pro in no time, I guarantee it!” Legend directed Wind’s gaze down to their skates. “First lesson: straighten up those ankles. And you’re treating this too much like walking. To skate, you push to the side with your blades like this…”

With Legend’s guidance, Wind grew much more confident on the ice. Soon he was even skating laps around Mask, and challenged the other three to race after race around the lake.

After a few hours of skating, Wild noticed that Wind was having trouble again- but this time it was because he was constantly shivering. Even with his special Rito outfit, the island boy was no match for Necluda’s frigid winter. Wild knew that Wind would immediately deny it if he called him out directly, so he chose his words carefully.

“Wow, look at the time!” he said loudly, making sure everybody heard. “We should probably head back so I can fix up breakfast for everybody.”

“Noooo!” Mask and Wind whined, attacking Wild with pleading eyes. “Just a few more minutes?”

“I mean, if you don’t want hot chocolate…” Wild teased, already skating to the edge of the lake.

The kids shouted in alarm and hurried to follow Wild, Legend close behind them. Frozen fingers fumbled with skate laces- Wild had to take over for Wind- and wobbly legs were barely given a moment to adjust to solid ground before they ran back to the house.

Most of the other heroes were building a snowman in Wild’s front yard, but the early risers barely spared them a passing glance as they trudged into the house. They heard Warriors begin to ask “Where have you guys been all morning?-'' before Legend slammed the door mid sentence. Wild tossed his skates aside and went straight to the kitchen to start the hot chocolate.

“Oh thank Zephos, a fire!” Wind exclaimed through chattering teeth.

Wolfie was laying on the rug in front of the fireplace, Four resting against him with a book in hand. Four looked up to see Wind approaching, damp clothes and all, and frantically shooed him away. “Oh no you don’t! Change into dry clothes first!”

Wind groaned and took a detour to his bag, and Legend dragged Mask over to the fireplace.

“You can play in the snow later, but you need to warm up for now,” Legend said firmly, ignoring how Mask was looking longingly at the front door. Legend himself was not fighting to hold back a shiver, and was definitely not getting dangerously close to regretting his decision to go ice skating with only his skirts protecting his legs from the cold wind. Still, Four gave Legend a knowing look as he scooted over to make room for the vet and the sprite.

“Why aren’t you outside, Four?” Mask questioned as he plopped down beside Legend.

“The cold doesn’t usually treat me well, so I wanted to enjoy the chance to stay indoors for once,” Four hummed. “And my friend here insisted on keeping me company.” He reached back to scratch behind Wolfie’s ear. “Unlike everybody else.”

Legend gasped, a hand flying to his heart in mock hurt. “Ow.”

Four elbowed Legend. “You know I’m kidding. I’m glad you guys had fun, and I’ll probably go outside later once the sun has been out for a while.”

Wind joined them, already rambling before he reached the floor. “Yes! We can have an epic snowball fight and build a snowman army and-”

Legend tuned him out as he noticed Wild returning from the kitchen, balancing a tray of mugs. Legend helped Wild distribute the hot chocolate, which immediately silenced Wind. The sailor sighed in relief as the warm mug revived his numb fingers.

The heroes (and the wolf) would play in the snow later that afternoon, but for now, they were content to cuddle together, warm and cozy from fire and friendship.

#IM REALLY SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG #hope you like it!#thank you kj for giving this a final check! your suggestions were just what i needed <3 #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu #linked universe wild #lu wild #linked universe wind #lu wind #linked universe mask #lu mask #linked universe legend #lu legend #fable writes

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crowdsourcedloner · 6 months

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35. How do they feel about the fact that they've killed a lot of people and/or things?

Nailah's been a mercenary most of her life. She knows she's good at it and carries herself as a consummate professional - it's her life or theirs and she has work to do, it's not personal.

This is what she's told herself, anyways.

Truthfully, Nailah struggles with seeing worth in herself under all the blood on her hands. There's a lot of unspoken survivor's guilt just under the surface, bubbling up whenever things are a little too quiet.

#answered asks #thank you for the ask! im sorry it took so long!!! aaaaa!!!!!#ive rewritten this dozens of times bc the words havent been quite right orz #im still not perfectly happy... but i need to post something its been more than a week ;-;#oc: hrothwol #okay ramble time #you know the scene in post-arr #where the wol is waiting to meet someone before the big banquet #and they guilt-daydream a procession of corpses in front of them of all the lives they've taken?#how it suggests this festering guilt that's never really faced or dealt with?#that's probably my favorite small moment in all arr #and that simmering sense of guilt stays with nailah like a stain #she eventually learns how to cope with it but it never really leaves #the sheer amount of blood on her hands helps push her to learn healing #so she can do some good for once in her life #(to her eyes at least - she needs the concrete small-picture reassurance)#(rather than vapid 'oh youre a hero :D' bc she really doesnt respond well to that)#...if you read all these tags i appreciate you ;-;

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chitter17 · 5 months

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helloooo @ chitter 17 im curious how can i start getting into aphmau? i luvvvv some of the fanart youv reblogged :3

HELLO! you've come to the right person!!! aphmau is one of my special interests :3c

if you want to get into her roleplays, i suggest you do it in this order:

minecraft diaries -> phoenix drop high -> falcon claw university -> regular mystreet

mystreet is the "modern au" of minecraft diaries, aphmau's original roleplay series!

aphmau got more interested in mystreet though, so mcd was never finished while mystreet got like 10 seasons LOL! i would highly suggest watching MCD before anything, but you dont have to if you arent interested. it'll help you understand a lot though ^_^

phoenix drop high is basically the mystreet cast in high school, and falcon claw university is them in college, and then mystreet itself is when they all have their own houses.

but keep in mind: phoenix drop high is a prologue, so it was made AFTER mystreet. theres a few plot holes you just have to ignore :,3

you can also skip PDH and FCU if you feel like it since its not too necessary to the plot (i personally skipped FCU because it was... not good)

she also has other roleplays that are not connected to the mcd / mystreet storyline (to my knowledge) such as my inner demons, who has an entirely new cast of characters ^_^!

--- LINKS

minecraft diaries: one , two , three

phoenix drop high: one , two

falcon claw university: one

mystreet: one , two , three , four , five , six

--- EXTRA

minecraft diaries: remake (this never got completed and i dont think she's picking it back up...)

phoenix drop high: spin-off (this takes place in pdh, but from a different point of view!)

my inner demons: one (note: this series has, like, 100 dirty jokes in every episode. just letting you know!)

#asks #strawbybanana #aphmau #thank you for the ask! im sorry i took so long to answer ^_^;#my favorite series is MCD so i really suggest watching it!!!! but its a little slow at the start so i understand if you dont want to (u_u)#mystreet will still make sense but youll notice a lot of cool easter eggs if you watch mcd too!#you can also watch mcd after it all if thats more your thing? i know some people who did that :P

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sewerfight · 4 months

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when I was around twelve I used to sit at the family computer and send hatemail to a white french dude named Jacques who was a self proclaimed communist on Tumblr. This was back in the day when you didn't need a blog to send anon hate. I had no real beef with him but I just didn't like his tone. used to send him "SHUT UP Jacques" periodically. and he'd answer every single one of my asks like "who is this?? show your face or I'll fucking kill you" and I'd be like "now now, that doesn't make sense, jacques" all haughty and he'd get so fucking mad at me. One time he posted a selfie and I sent him an ask claiming I was a psychologist and that his hair parting suggested that he wasn't a communist at all. and he took it deliriously serious and went off on a 2,000 word rant. I can remember going to stay at my grandparents over that weekend, so I didn't even respond to the rant until I came back. I could've chosen to end it there, but when I returned, I sent him another ask which was like "psychologist here again: if you were a communist your hair parting would be in the middle. evenly distributed. All behavioural signs point to someone who doesn't take their own values seriously." and he went ballistic. really swearing at me. all caps type beat. he never turned the asks off, btw. which always made me wonder if he didn't know how to, or if he didn't want to cause he was convinced he was fighting a war, and this action would ensure he lost it. anyway this went on for weeks until one day I completely forgot about him like he was some kind of childhood imaginary friend I'd conjured up in my loneliness. but yesterday I happened to recall the whole scenario, because my buddy was like "remember when you were twelve and I came over to your house, and you showed me on the computer how you'd been terrorizing this random French guy for days on end. And you were laughing like fucking crazy. and I said it wasn't funny because he probably had problems, and you were like 'oh.' and you looked a bit guilty for a second, but then you went and got a grapefruit from the kitchen and threw it out of the second story window at my kid brother, who was playing in the street, and then you started laughing again?" Well. when she put it like that, needless to say I felt bad. so Jacques if you're out there I'm sorry I was such a little shit. you had totally normal hair, and you only wanted people to share stuff. If it's any consolation I know every day of my life that I'm probably going to hell for the sick things I have done

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ofdinosanddais1 · 2 months

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Me @ uber support: hey the driver did nothing wrong. There is an error in your system telling people to drop me off in the wrong location.

Uber support: omg we're so sorry he did something wrong. We're going to steal the money he made on that trip for something that was wrong with our system.

#i'm guessing that no one on uber support can read #i literally gave him 5 stars and tipped higher than 25%#what part of that suggests he did something wrong #why is uber so fucking unable to admit there is something wrong with their system?#i fucking swear if they took money from him for this #he dropped me off at the correct location #STOP BLAMING THE DRIVER FOR YOUR BAD SYSTEM #if you're the driver i am so fucking sorry #the company you work for is shit at their job and doesn't bother to read shit

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on-my-vigilante-sht · 4 months

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Competing With Gods

Luke Castellan x Aphrodite!Reader, Apollo x uninterested!Reader

Request: Hi could you write luke castellan x reader, where Luke gets jealous of a guy who tries with y/n? How would he react if y/n is at the game? Thank you

Summary: When Apollo is sent to camp as a punishment, he sets his sights on Luke's girlfriend.

Warning: Fighting, jealousy, making out, the slightest allusions to/implied smut, Apollo being a dick

Word Count: 3k

Masterlist

A/N So instead of another camper or whatever, I’m making the other guy Apollo.

Apollo crashed into the ground of Camp Half-Blood. Right in the middle of all the cabins. Great. He briefly cursed Zeus for this. He was being punished for flirting with a nymph the big guy was interested in. And when Apollo had told his father to maybe focus on his wife, Zeus banished him to Camp Half-Blood for a few weeks as a “warning.”

The Half-Bloods began to peek out of their cabins but one girl was already rushing over. Her hair fell over her shoulder so nicely as she kneeled over him. Okay, maybe camp wouldn’t be so bad. She gave him a concerned look. “Are you alright?”

“Now that you’re here,” he immediately started flirting. He enjoyed the way she immediately became flustered and jumped to his feet. She looked up at him in bewilderment. She saw him fall. She wasn’t a daughter of Apollo but he should have been suffering from at least a few broken bones. “I’m Apollo,” he clarified with a proud smirk. By now all the other campers within the vicinity were near enough to hear and kneeled. The girl did too, kneeling with a lowered head. He reached out a hand to her. She took it hesitantly, standing up. “Who are you, gorgeous?”

She became further embarrassed. How do I bring up Luke? She briefly wondered. “Y/N. Daughter of Aphrodite.”

“I should have known,” the god flirted. “What with those mesmerizing eyes.”

“Lord Apollo,” a voice interrupted him. He turned, finding Chiron trotting over. “My apologies, I was just notified of your arrival.”

“No worries,” the god smiled. The nice thing about not being around gods is that you get called things like Lord.

“Please,” Chiron began, gesturing over to a big house, “let me show you around. Your father has a few requests for you whilst here.”

“Of course he does,” he rolled his eyes. He turned back to the girl. “I’ll see you around, gorgeous,” he winked.

As he left all the campers were left in shock. Especially Y/N. And even more so, her boyfriend. Luke went up to her, finding her still in astonishment. “Sooo… that was weird,” he began, trying to not show his jealousy.

“Yeah,” she breathed. “Was Apollo just flirting with me?”

“Yes!” Silena gushed as she ran up to her best friend/half-sister. “Oh my gods, a god is interested in you!” She then seemed to notice Luke and remember their relationship. “Oh- uh. Sorry, Luke.”

He just gave her a tight lipped smile.

“Oh my gods, what am I gonna do?” Y/N asked, clearly stressed out.

Luke shrugged, again trying not to show his jealousy. “Not much you can do. It’s not like you can tell him to leave you alone.”

“If you really don’t want him then you can tell him you have a boyfriend. And a sister,” Silena suggested with a raised eyebrow.

Her sister laughed. “I was trying to think of a way to mention Luke. And Silena, you’re 16.”

“He looks 18!” she insisted.

“Even if he was actually 18 I’d say he’s too old for you. Come on, the bathroom still needs to be cleaned after Drew decided she wanted to dye her hair black.”

“Yeah well, she’s crying now because she wants to be blonde again,” Silena explained as the sisters walked back to their cabin.

Feeling mildly ignored, Luke yelled after them. “I’ll see you at dinner!”

Remembering her boyfriend, Y/N ran back to him, pressing a peck on her lips. “Sorry. I’ll see you later.” He watched her go, trying to not think about it too much. She never forgot to kiss him goodbye but he tried to chalk it up to the fact that she was shocked by Apollo’s appearance.

That evening at dinner everyone had noticed the “new camper” sitting at the Apollo table looking very unhappy. Chiron stood up and called everyone’s attention. “As you all know, we have a very honored guest staying with us for a while. Lord Zeus had requested that we treat him as we would any other camper.” As he finished he gave us all a long, hard look as if to say, “Don’t get yourself killed when his immortality is restored.”

Once dinner finished, everyone was at the bonfire. Luke sat on the ground, his back resting up against a log. His girlfriend was leaning up against his shoulder, her legs over his lap. His free arm would occasionally swipe the mosquitos away from her with his other arm supporting her weight. They were talking to a few other campers when Luke let his gaze fall onto Apollo. Some campers, mostly girls from Aphrodite, sat around the god, looking at him with cartoon hearts in their eyes. He knew for a fact Y/N had told them to stay away as a. they were all minors and b. he was a god and she didn’t want to deal with their broken hearts.

When Apollo’s gaze fell on the girl in his lap, Luke tightened his grip protectively. He knew it was ridiculous. Y/N would never cheat on him and he knew she’d slap any guy who tried anything, immortal deity or not. But he couldn’t help but be worried. Hell, he had nearly punched an Ares camper last year and that kid wasn’t a god. And Apollo was known for his womanizing ways.

He tried to shake it off and go back to his conversation but his brain was still stuck on Apollo. “Hey,” he whispered so softly that only the girl in his lap could hear. She turned and he immediately kissed her. She kissed him back briefly but pulled away, not a huge fan of PDA especially in front of the entire camp. But Luke persisted, gently holding her cheek and kissing her deeply.

When she finally pulled away for breath she looked at him quizzically. “What was that for?”

He smiled and shrugged. “What? I can’t kiss my girlfriend?” She just smiled, pushing his head away jokingly before going back to her conversation. But he was looking at Apollo again, hoping the god saw that kiss. If he did, he was playing it off.

Later that night, when the fire was extinguished and he had kissed the Aphrodite counselor goodnight several times, Luke was trying to sleep. Keyword: trying. Normally the several snores or creeks of the Hermes cabin didn’t bother him, but he was so on edge thinking about Apollo’s flirting, that every noise jolted him awake. He couldn’t stop thinking about how Apollo had immediately begun to flirt with Y/N and how she had seemed to forget him for a moment.

Frustrated, Luke crept out of bed. As he opened the cabin door, he checked for harpies keeping watch but found none. So he went to the Aphrodite cabin, knocking on the window right above Y/N’s bed. It took a few tries but eventually, she poked her head up, gesturing to shut up and that she’d be out in a minute.

So Luke waited until she came around the side. “What?” she asked, still rubbing sleep from her eyes. But her hair was already falling back to the way its usual flawless look, courtesy of being Aphrodite’s daughter.

“I just wanted to see you,” Luke smiled sheepishly. And make sure Apollo isn’t sniffing around. He realized he didn’t have a reason to be out here that didn’t stem from insane jealousy. She looked mildly annoyed at that so he did the only thing he could think of. He kissed her. If he couldn’t get rid of Apollo, he could completely occupy her mind. So he did the only thing he could think of. He was pushing her up against the side of the cabin, one hand on her jaw, the other around her waist.

She had no clue where this came from but she gave in nonetheless. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply.

After a few minutes of making out, she finally managed to push him away enough to get a deep breath in. “What was that for?” she asked, both of them still gasping for air.

Luke smiled, grabbing her by the hips to pull her closer. “‘Cause I love you.” He pressed the lightest kiss to her nose before stepping away abruptly. “Night, see you in the morning.” And with that, he walked away the happiest demigod in all of camp.

The daughter of Aphrodite still just stood there, completely taken off guard. The only thing that snapped her out of her daze was the faint caw of a harpy, making her quickly scramble inside. Luke ended up getting his wish as that night, the only thing on her mind was that kiss.

The next day was Capture the Flag day. When Chiron announced it at dinner that night, everyone lost their minds. It was Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Hephaestus, and Poseidon vs. Ares, Apollo, Demeter, and Dionysus.

As the couple was walking over to their cabins to get their armor, Apollo caught up with them. “See you out there, Y/N,” he said as he passed with a wink.

“S-see yah?” she called back hesitantly.

Luke was frustrated but at least she didn’t seem flattered by his flirtations. Now she was just confused.

Once they grabbed their chest plates, then went back to the creek where they’d be starting the games. As Luke put his on, she was struggling to get hers tightened. “Hold on, I’ll help you in a sec,” he said, finishing strapping his onto his body.

“I got it,” a voice interrupted. Apollo seemingly appeared out of nowhere. He was standing in front of Y/N, tightening the strap.

“Hey!” Luke yelled without thinking.

Apollo held up one hand in surrender, the other still on her shoulder. “Chill man, I’m just helping.” Luke didn’t say anything else as Apollo walked away with a slight smirk.

“Hey,” Y/N said softly, stepping closer to him. “What was that about?”

Luke gritted his teeth. “Nothing. C’mon, I need to assign everyone and talk strategy.” He took her hand gently, reminding himself to not let his anger get the better of him. He headed over, gathering the team. “Alright, Cabins 6, 3, and 11 will be offense. Cabins 9, 10, and 12 will be defense. Except for Y/N, you’re with me. Beckendorf, you’ll also be offense.” He pointed out a few Athena and Hermes campers, directing them to defense as well.

After a few minutes, the conch blew and everyone was in their places. The couple quickly jumped over the creek, slipping through the Apollo cabin’s defenses. They had done this so many times, their routine was well practiced. They ran through the woods, searching for any opposing defense.

The other teams had learned that Y/N and Luke always worked as a pair so they started also pairing defensive players. That is when Hermes and Aphrodite were on the same side. If they weren’t, Capture the Flag could go on for hours since they knew all of each others’ tricks.

They continued on, occasionally making quick work of disarming opposing campers until they reached the flag. It was only guarded by one person. Apollo. Clarisse must have figured that everyone else would be too afraid to offend a god. But Luke was honestly looking for this opportunity.

So while Y/N fell back, hesitating, Luke was jumping at the god. Apollo blocked him with a sword but he was clearly not very good with it. Archery had been banned since before Luke got to camp. Even though the arrows were enchanted not to kill, someone had been blinded so Chiron banned them forever. He didn’t even make an exception for the god of archery.

While Luke fought Apollo, Y/N was grabbing the flag. “Luke!” she yelled, waving the flag. She then took off, heading for their territory. Because of Apollo’s inexperience with the sword, Luke was easily beating him. After a few slashes on the god’s arms, legs, and even face—nothing major, they were honestly just cuts a band aid could fix—Luke was disarming him. He didn’t have to be as brutal as he was or knock him over but he did, throwing the god’s sword far away before following after Y/N.

Luke was still a few feet behind her when she hopped over the creek into safety. He watched proudly as she ripped the helmet off her head and held the flag up triumphantly. The members of their team around her cheered triumphantly as the conch blew and their team was announced the winners.

Luke was still in enemy territory, watching her have her moment when Apollo showed up. “She’s really something,” the god announced, his smile focused on her.

“Yeah, my girlfriend really is incredible,” Luke said pointedly.

The god was still smiling. “I know she’s your girlfriend. I saw you making out with her last night.”

“What were you doing out at two a.m.?”

The god looked even more smug, his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t have to answer to you. But if you must know, I had the same idea as you but you got there first.” Luke finally looked at him, rage once again filling his body. So he wasn’t paranoid. “How long have you been together?”

Luke was confused but answered nonetheless. “Uh three years,” he answered suspiciously.

“Aw, three years down the drain. I’m sorry in advance,” the god said in exaggerated regret.

Luke tried not to let his fury show. This is why he hated gods. They thought they could do whatever they wanted without regard for mortals. “Well, she loves me. At night she swears we were made for each other,” he said, recalling sweaty nights during the school year when every other Aphrodite kid was home. And how they’d make breathless promises of eternity.

Apollo gave him an almost pitiful look. “I’m sorry about your relationship but you can’t actually believe she’ll pick you when she could have a literal god?” he gestured to himself arrogantly.

Now it was Luke’s turn to gloat. He just shrugged, “I’m the one she calls for. She doesn’t call for the gods like most others would. She only ever says my name.”

Apollo was a little taken aback by the kid’s boldness. “Well, that’s the nice thing about being a god. I can make anyone mine.” And with that Apollo headed over to the capture the flag winner of the night. It took everything in him not to race up to her but he kept his composure. She’d have to reject him on her own, he couldn’t keep running defense.

He watched in surprised satisfaction as Apollo reached her. He congratulated her before pulling her into a hug. His arms were around her waist and creeping kind of low but Luke once again kept his resolve. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she pulled away quickly, pointing over at him. What was she saying? Was she praising him for fighting the god? Or telling him that she had a boyfriend?

Apollo tried to hug her again but she ducked under his arm, running over to him. He immediately broke out into a smile. Her arms were opened to hug him but he just grabbed her face to kiss her instead. He turned her towards the tree he had been leaning on, pressing her up against it again. He only pulled away slightly to whisper a congratulations but then their lips were connected again. When he finally pulled away, he threw an arm around her shoulder, shooting a look to the god before heading off to their celebration.

That night as they were celebrating, Luke was glued to Y/N’s side. It wasn’t until some of the other Hermes boys needed help getting their illegal video game working again that Luke left her side. “I’ll be back,” he promised her, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead.

As soon as Luke was gone, Apollo was swooping in. “Congratulations again,” he said, handing her a drink.

“Thanks,” she smiled nervously, taking the drink. “How are the cuts?”

Apollo shrugged. “They sting more than I would’ve thought but they’re fine. Your boyfriend’s a hell of a fighter.”

“Yeah,” she chuckled, relieved that he was acknowledging she had a boyfriend.

“I mean, he’s good for a mortal. He’s certainly no god,” Apollo flirted.

“Well, none of us are. Present company excluded,” she laughed nervously, gesturing to him.

Apollo casually threw an arm around her shoulder. “There’s other things we’re better at,” he said, letting the implication hang in the air. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. “Have you ever been with a god, Y/N?”

She was immediately pulling out of his grasp. “I- uh… um no. I’m flattered but…” She had no clue what to say. She couldn’t just say no to Apollo. If this were any other man she’d throw her drink in his face but this was a god.

She didn’t have to say anything because Luke had seen the whole thing. As he came back he saw Apollo throw his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder and subsequently watched her back away quickly. “I told you she loves me,” he smirked before tugging her away. She gratefully pressed herself into his body.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, careful that Apollo couldn’t hear.

“Hey, you don’t have to thank me. This is kind of my job as your boyfriend.”

“Still, you basically told him to back off. Kind of bold to deny a god.”

“Yeah, well,” he began, brushing a hair back from her face, “if he smites me we’ll just have to make up for the lost time in Elysium.” She giggled, hugging him closer as they headed off to bed.

Masterlist

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo #pjo x reader #the lighting thief #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #x reader #apollo #apollo x reader

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hxltic · 9 months

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bein yelled at by ghost. you’ve been in the army this long, been yelled at by sergeants and others alike, majority men—obviously—but none of them like this. The others you didn’t even flinch as they screamed directly into your ears, probably even worse than other men just to intimidate you as a woman.

You caught him in a bad mood and it seemed completely unrelated to work, but as his partner and soldier, he had to tell you things that you didn’t want to hear.

“Hey, I got your message Simon, didn’t mean for that to happen. Won’t let it happen again.” You place some things of yours down on the dresser as you enter his quarters. He’s standing there in thought, unreadable.

His mask is still on with his gear connected to his body.

“Damn right, you won’t.” He gruffs, heavy in his accent.

All you could do was question what this meant. Would he not let you do it again? Were you being thrown in a different squad?

“What does that mean?” You stop your moving for a direct answer. You almost took that personally.

He explains, “You made an impulsive decision that would have led to half our unit being taken out. The amount we sent to that building was more than usual.”

“I understand, and that was on me. In my defense though: it was a suggestion in the moment, one that the other members also formally agreed to. It wasn’t just me.” You giggle, even though you’re aware these aren’t giggling matters. You just needed to lighten the mood.

“There were 35 men in that building alone. Led by Gaz and König!”

He fully pronounced the words, turning to you aggressively. Had you known this was the severity of his mood, you never would’ve taunted him in any type of way. This was when he had to be your boss.

“I understand but-“

“It doesn’t matter who agreed! You are seen as a leader standing next to me and you introduced the idea. I cannot be there to stop you every time you do something stupid.” His eyes were laced with anger, an anger that arose out of the protection built for his squad over the years.

“Every time?”

He said that like you did something stupid every day. He’s had bad missions before too, and we should all just be happy everyone made it back safe. Well, maybe one or two. He quickly turns to you, but stays in his spot.

“Every bloody time. It’s the mission before that. Then that. You cannot keep jeopardizing this team.”

Despite the offense you took to his words, you understood him.

“I understand.” You speak. For the night, you split off into your own quarters, not wanting to anger him any more than you already have. You’ll just have to be better with your decisions. There’s more than just your life on the line now.

The next few days, you’ve been kind of stand off-ish, hoping he’d come to you when he was feeling so. Instead, you were all assigned a mission, one they’d put you in charge of. Naturally, you’d felt it best to prove yourself and win his attention back. He was still Simon, and you still loved him.

. .

You all returned back to base with a more than successful mission under your belt. This made you extremely happy, as it’s finally a good time to speak to him.

You approach his door, then knock. You never knock.

A deep, “Come in,” is all you get.

You walk in to him sitting at his desk, his back to the door.

“Hey,” is all you can muster. You’d had the balls to walk in, but Simon is still a scary man. Your hands come down from his shoulders to massage over his biceps.

“I’m sorry for the past few days. I hope I redeemed myself?” You try.

“Hm,” He grunts, standing from his desk and filing papers into the drawers. This made you a little wary.

“Are you feeling okay Simon?” You fiddle your fingers together as you watch him walk around to the other side of the table.

“Fuckin’ fabulous.”

Your hands drop. You’d expected something, or some type of praise. Instead, you got this.

“What’s wrong? I thought I did good this time?”

“Is there something you want?” He shoots back. You glance at him, then around the room, then the floor. “No? Alright then.” He continues on as if you aren’t there. You stand in disbelief.

“What has got you so upset Simon? You can talk to me.”

“Did ya come in my room with nothin to say? What are you here for?” he snaps back.

This was a knife in the heart. You’d been terrified of the business portion of your relationship engulfing the rest, but you didn’t want to believe it. Maybe that wasn’t the case. Maybe it wasn’t you.

“Literally what is your problem?” You wanted to yell, but you couldn’t. It wasn’t in your nature. It didn’t feel right yelling at him.

You attempt to walk to his front, hoping that seeing your face would bring him some sense of calmness or bring him back down to Earth, but that was long gone. He’d lost all professionalism or softness.

Or maybe that was just it, and there was too much professionalism.

You reach him and plead, “Simon please, let me help y-“

“Fuckin’ hell, I don’t need your goddamn help!”

His head whips around, and that was all it took for you to realize the severity of everything going on. You’d physically retracted back and flinched. It’d been a long time since you’d done that.

“What do you want?” He throws the pen he’d held to the wall, and if you could see, you’d say there was a visible dent. That was your second step back, and you only took more as he came forward powerfully, his frame enlarging with each step.

“I-“

“Do you want me to praise you for your fuckin’ job? Now that you’ve decided to take it seriously?” He growls.

This was completely untrue, it wasn’t easy getting into 141, and it didn’t take anything but seriousness. Despite this, it didn’t take away from how his voice seemed to reverberate through your bones. You were retreating from him the best you could, but you didn’t want to look away, afraid it’d make him angrier.

Your hands felt around behind you as you got closer and closer to the wall, but not before detecting a small table that almost had you stumbling backwards when you knocked it over. Along with some more pens, a vase fell, shattering about and leaving tiny shards for your feet to step on the one day you decided not to wear the house slippers Gaz always made fun of you for.

He could literally take your breath away, but the piercing sensation under you couldn’t compare to the expression he wore that was dripping with malice. You felt like prey under a predator, caged to the wall with nowhere to go.

Your back hit with a thump, your hands flying back to the wall but close to your figure. You’d wanted to put them between you two, hoping it’d prevent him from coming closer, but it wouldn’t work. So now you search for separation by forcing your cheek against the wall, eyes frantically darting back and forth between nothing in particular and the raging man towering over you. You don’t think you could look at him anymore.

You whisper, “S-Simon. Please-”

He was so close his breath was to your ear as he leaned over. You were scared. In fact, you’d spoke it so lightly, you don’t even remember if you did or if it was just a thought.

“This,” he was referring to today, “is absolute bare minimum. Your job is to take orders, then get it done with the least. Casualties. Possible. Do you understand me?” He enunciates every part of the sentence, every word, so deep and low but strong that you had no choice but for it to be engraved in your brain. He was infuriated.

You didn’t want to breath too hard, afraid it’d also upset him, so your shortness of breath had you quickly nodding. The last words had you trembling.

“Do you fuckin’ understand me?” His words seem to shake the room, booming loud and clear enough to make you flinch again and your eyes squeeze shut. It was even worse than before—you were terrified.

He made you feel like a little girl again, answering to her father that she could never seem to impress no matter what she did. That’s why she joined the army. So she could be in charge.

But it didn’t stop because your eyes had to blink open to reality, and the time bomb called a response was ticking, just like his already gone patience. It also didn’t stop things from getting blurry, and before you knew or could stop it, there was a tear gathering that eventually released to your cheek.

“Y-yes sir,” you whimper on unsteady breath, Closing your eyes in prayer he would retreat. He was there for a little longer, but once you felt his presence leave back into the heart of his room, you still didn’t move an inch. You eventually shuffled uncomfortably to the door, not even feeling okay enough to close it behind you. You dashed as fast as one could go with millions of tiny glass in their feet, and before tending to it, you shut your door and fell to your butt with your back pressed against it and cried.

It’d been so long since you’ve cried over this specific issue; you thought you’d left it behind you. You technically had, but it was reawakened. The mission fatigued you, and you were so exhausted, but the only reason you didn’t lay your head down in the bed and fall asleep was the glass that would distribute painfully throughout your sheets.

You wrapped your feet and slipped into the night with the occasional sob.

. .

Sometime in the night, your locked room was intruded, assumingely by the one man graced with a key. Large hands scooped you up effortlessly, before bringing your head to one shoulder. You felt warm lips seep into your forehead.

He whispered things to you, things you couldn’t hear, but your head was held protectively with his strong hand over your ear. You’d been rested in another bed, one that smelled like him. He removed the tape from your feet and actually cleaned your wounds before tucking you in and sliding in beside you.

He felt like he didn’t deserve it, the guilt enough to bring him to tears, but he also felt like he didn’t deserve to cry. So instead, he tucks your head into his body closer, praying the sleeping version of you would recognize this as an apology until the morning.

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