#the places that scarred me looked alike to the places that healed me

[elytrafemme]

posting actively anti KOSA stuff on my instagram account which i know is followed by at least one person who is explicitly pro KOSA... who i also work with...

#nightmare.personal #his post regarding it is deleted so i hope he has changed his mind but #man. you have GOT to understand the harm KOSA is going to do #when will people stop looking at censorship as something where you can throw exceptions at it #and expect it to work #if you give them the power to make the internet safer then you give them to power to make the internet more unsafe #& if you look at our cultural context... well. you have three guesses to figure out which it's going to fucking be #it's ALWAYS 'oh we shouldn't censor... EXCEPT' and 'oh this is illegal... EXCEPT' #how are the people going to find out they're exceptions? how broad are these exceptions going to go? #i know playing with absolutes is a dangerous game and censorship is CONTENTIOUS on this site #but holy shit i am begging these people-- begging this man really-- to realize what we're working with here #i have been irreparably scarred by the internet but the terrifying thing about it is #the places that scarred me looked alike to the places that healed me #overwhelmingly queer spaces in both conditions #and so i can sympathize with the terror but also you cannot strike out what hurt me without effectively taking out #what has gotten me this far. that's not something we can do as people. #i wouldn't trust myself with that #and i most certainly would not trust the government.

[mediumgayitalian]

At around half past one, Nico gets a Feeling.

He gets feelings a lot. Nothing he can quantify, just something telling him that something is up, somethings wrong. Or something’s about to be. At this point, he’s learned to trust his intuition, based purely on the number of times it has saved his life; a number he’s long since given up counting. (He’s only ignored his gut feelings three times in his life: when Bianca went on her quest, when his father promised not to hurt Percy before the Titan War, and when he went looking for the Doors. He has learned his lesson.)

So when something at the bottom of his stomach tells him to get up, to check things out — he does.

He knows it could be nothing. (The last time he had a Feeling, it turned out that he had placed a book precariously on the edge of his desk, and it had been about to fall. Not exactly world-saving stuff.) But regardless, he steps out of bed, shoves his feet into his shoes, and creeps out of his cabin.

Camp is kind of beautiful at night.

There’s an eerie calmness to it without so many human disasters running about, and the quiet reflects that. All Nico can really hear is the hooting of owls in the distance, the chittering of nocturnal animals and monsters alike, the distant screeches of curfew harpies, and the pleasant crashing of the waves. The air is clean, when he inhales, and he takes the time to hold it in his lungs for a bit, imagining the sweet breath is healing his burned lungs, turning the scar tissue back to something flexible and normal. Whether or not it actually works, he doesn’t know, but it feels nice.

Under the light of the brightly shining new moon and billions of stars, he starts his patrol. Around his own cabin first — there’s nothing, as he expected, the warning doesn’t seem overwhelming like threats tend to be — and then he makes his way around the circuit, checking behind gardens and shrines and inside braziers. He hums quietly as he walks, something preppy and bright the Apollo kids have been hollering for days, and waves to Lady Hestia, sword heavy at his waist.

“Come sit,” she calls, patting the seat next to her.

Nico does.

“Haven’t seen you out at night in a while.”

He hums, toneless this time, leaning back on his hands and mirroring her gaze at the sky.

“Been sleeping, for once.”

“I’m glad.”

He smiles, knowing that she means it. He watches out of the corner of his eye as she picks up his sword, sliding it from his belt loop, and uses it to stoke the flames. She doesn’t seem afraid of it, or wary. To her it’s just a stick of metal. It’s nice.

“You have you been, my Lady?”

She pokes at the embers a few more times, scooping a few to balance at the tip of the blade for a while. It glows with the heat, and he knows he’ll have to sharpen it tomorrow, but he doesn’t mind. Maybe he can do it while Will is in the archery range. It’ll give him an excuse to be at the armoury at the same time, anyway.

“I’ve been well.” She breathes deeply, small smile pulling at her face. “It’s calmer, and more people wave to me. I like it.”

“Good.”

She dismisses him a few minutes later, sending him off with a promise to chat again soon. She doesn’t need to worry about him promising — he makes a point to sit with her at least once a week — but it’s nice to know someone wants his company, so he appreciates it. He leaves with a wave, walking towards the eastern half of the cabins.

Nothing’s amiss. He can hear campers snoring, and see the odd reading light. Malcolm catches his eye as he walks past the Athena cabin and winks, sending a cheeky salute when he sees the sword held loosely in his hands. So far, everything seems fine. He’s beginning to think the Feeling might have simply been about Lady Hestia, so he decides to do one last check around the Big House and then head back.

Of course, that’s where the issue is.

The infirmary lights are always on. They’re dimmer in the night, more of a glow than anything, but there’s an extra brightness streaming out from the windows, and when Nico peeks inside, he sees Will, standing with his back turned at the nurse’s station.

He takes a moment to check his strength, making sure he has the energy for it — dinner last night was pho and he had three bowls, he most definitely does — and sinks into the shadows by the door. He materializes back in the little alcove by the bandage & wraps cabinet, lurking silently while he blinks the dizziness away.

The first thing he registers is soft singing.

He’s facing Will, now, and can see the glow coming from his hands, enveloping a bowl of some kind. He has both hands coated in some dusky pink substance, massaging and gently pounding it against the sides of the bowl, working it through with great care. As his voice gets higher, the glow gets brighter, fading as he dips lower. He sings something about hills and meadows and the breeze, about wing-song, about the sound of flower stems bending in the wind. For a while Nico stands, listening to the melodious ancient Greek, swaying with every pitch and hold. It’s captivating.

Will is almost haunting when he heals.

There’s a divinity in him — in all of them — but he glows when he sings. Not just his hands, and sometimes his head if he puts enough power in his words, but there’s an almost shimmer to the air around him, a shining warp. His skin gets clearer, and his hair goes more metallic, almost, like spun gold rather than blonde. His freckles make his skin into an inverse replica of the night sky, dark specks surrounded by bright empty between them. His long fingers pluck through bright strands of light like a harpist strums their chords; lightly, carefully, skillfully; like a braider weaves their hair. There’s an undeniable age to his magic, a practice that’s visibly replicated millions of times over thousands of years, as if every healer who has come before him links their arms with his, breathes their strength in his lungs. Sometimes, when he does something truly unbelievable, amazingly beyond reason, he flickers — his orange camp shirt fades into a white chiton, or long robes, or a white coat, or a blue tunic. Watching him heal is like watching the sunrise — breathtaking and unique, every time, but powerful in its cyclic archaism.

It takes Nico a long time to realise Will is swaying.

Snapped out of his trance, he begins to notice Will’s long, slow blinks, the unsteady way he stands, the weight he has leaned on the counter. Even his face looks plainly exhausted under the glow, face pillow-creased and eyes bruised, hair mussed, limbs leaden. Footsteps as silent as he can manage, Nico creeps over to the schedule posted by the door, scanning through the scrawled pen ink.

He curses quietly. Will is not supposed to be awake.

There are really only three people who can work the infirmary to its fully capacity, barring Chiron. Kayla, Austin, and Will are the only ones who can magically heal, as much as the volunteers are imperative, so when the camp is in full swing one of them must be stationed at all times. That’s how Will sets it up. A bit of a waste of time, he acknowledges, but Nico knows he has memorized every time a camper who should have been saved. He carries far too much guilt to ever let it happen again, as inconvenient as his rules may be.

Night shift, though, is a need-be basis. If the infirmary is as empty as it is right now, then there truly is no need to keep one of the three of them awake outside their circadian rhythm, staring at nothing. Instead, they take shifts in the on-call room — asleep, but prepared should anything go wrong, should a monster chase a new camper at an odd hour. It’s Will’s turn for on-call. It’s two in the morning. He should be asleep.

And, yet.

Nico recognizes the look in his eyes. There’s a — frailty, to them, a deep-seated, animalistic fear, one he recognises from the hours after his own night terrors. A single-minded panic that cannot be unseated in any logical way, cannot be comforted with any gentle hands.

Nico handles his fear with slashing swords and bruised knuckles. Will, he knows, handles his fear with obsessive, endless preparation.

Knowing full well nothing is going to drag him away from his focus bar actual cardiac arrest, Nico walks right by him. Will doesn’t move. He settles behind him in the old, creaky leather office chair, curling his legs under him and resting his head on the soft arm. He watches Will, watches the almost machine-like movement to his kneading arms, and falls back asleep to his humming.

———

“…Nico?”

He wakes up warm and a little cramped, in the same position he fell asleep. Sun is streaming on from the many issues, blocked from burning his eyes by Will’s hunched frame, facing towards him now, hands and shoulders shaking with equal violence.

“What time is it?”

His voice is croaky and wrecked from hours of singing. Nico is willing to bet his throat is burned as badly as his hands, cooked from non-stop, sun-borne glowing. The divinity that had emanated from him before has abandoned him and he looks young, lost.

“Early,” Nico says softly. He unfolds himself from the chair, stretching slightly — gods, he is going to ache today — and wraps a slow, careful hand around Will’s wrists. “Probably around six, if I have to guess.”

“I don’t remember waking up.”

“That’s okay.”

“I’m tired.”

“That’s okay.”

His breathing is heavy, laboured.

“I don’t —”

Nico squeezes gently. “It’s okay, Will.”

Will swallows and says nothing.

“Come on.”

Carefully, letting Will’s stiff joints set the pace, Nico guides him out of the infirmary. The sun shines brighter as soon as he steps outside, but he doesn’t seem to notice bar a tiny, almost imperceptible flinch at the change in lighting. Nico switches from holding his wrists to laying a hand on the small of his back, half-worried he’s going to fall over.

Luckily, he makes it to the Apollo Cabin upright, although the stairs take them a while. The hinges of the old screen door creak as Nico pushes it open, and he sees both Kayla and Austin, up and dressed, jump.

“…Will?” Kayla asks softly, eyebrows creased in concern. She walks over to him when he doesn’t answer, frozen still, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”

Will leans — almost hesitantly — into the touch. The same blankness from before clouds his eyes, although this time there’s less of the fear.

“Hey.” Nico walks over to stand in front of him, waiting patiently for him to meet his eyes. In the minutes it takes, he hears Austin pad over, standing opposite to Kayla, hands clenching and unclenching like he can’t decide what to do with them. “You think you can sleep?”

Will doesn’t answer verbally, but drifts after a moment to his bed. Nico follows, helping him out of his shoes and shirt. After a beat of hesitation, Austin hurries over, turning down Will’s sheets and helping him crawl in. Soft guitar music begins to play, and when Nico looks over Kayla is fiddling with the CD player, turning the dials carefully. Without much fanfare, Will’s eyes flutter closed, and his breathing slows to something deep and even. His twitching fingers still.

“I don’t think today’s an activity day,” Nico murmurs. “I checked up on him a while after midnight; he’d been at it for hours. He didn’t stop ‘til sunrise.”

Kayla rubs harshly at her eyes. “Fuck.”

“He’ll be okay,” Austin whispers. He runs a gentle knuckle over Will’s forehead, then turns his careful, imploring gaze to Nico. “You kept an eye on him?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

Nico inclines his head. “Had a feeling.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Kayla admits. “He was —” She trails off, staring at something in the left half of the cabin — the empty half. “He was like this after the Titan War, too. I think he spoke maybe two words for the entirety of September.”

Nico almost can’t imagine it. The very thought of it makes something twinge in his chest, clench in his stomach.

“We’ll figure it out.” He nods, to convince himself as much as Kayla and Austin, who look to him with way more trust than he deserves. “We won’t let it — it won’t get that bad. We’ll help, and if we can’t figure it out we’ll get help. It won’t be as hard as last time.”

It won’t be as hard as last time because there won’t be twelve shrouds, Nico doesn’t say, but he doesn’t need to. Both Kayla and Austin nod, looking at their sleeping brother with firm resolution.

“This time, we’ll be there.”

#yeah let’s talk about mental health. huh #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #nico di angelo & will solace #nico di angelo/will solace #solangelo #nico/will #will/nico #kayla knowles #austin lake #will solace & kayla knowles & austin lake #nico di angelo & kayla knowles & austin lake #angst #hurt/comfort #emotional hurt/comfort #depression #depressive episode #catalonia #anxiety #my writing #fic #longpost #mental health issues

[leighsartworks216]

I Come With Knives Pt2

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Part 1

I am posting this at almost 1am AND I have to get up early tomorrow to do work for class before the actual class haha I plan my time accordingly

I was going to make this chapter longer. I had an idea and I started to write it, but it just wasn't coming out like I wanted it to (bc I'm writing at 12am duh) so I'm gonna put that in another chapter

Warnings: mentions of torture, trauma, hints of paranoia, hints of self-deprecation

Word Count: 1,390

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

I Come With Knives Masterlist

AO3

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After a grueling battle yesterday, you chose to give everyone a day off. It gave them time to rest aching muscles, repair and sharpen weapons, relax. It gave you a chance to bathe.

You didn't neglect your hygiene, but most of the time, once camp was set up, the sun would be dipping below the horizon. On those days, you'd run into the water, scrub the gunk out of your hair and get out, back to the safety of company before the first stars faded in. Now that you had the chance, you weren't going to squander it.

Once you were certain you were alone - an uncomfortable thought soothed only by the sun filtering in through the canopy above - you stripped down and waded into the water. It was cool, but not unpleasantly so. You wasted no time scraping the dirt and blood off your skin.

Once you cleaned your body within an inch of its life, you ducked your head under the water and scrubbed at your hair and scalp. It was disgusting - you could only imagine the smell your companions had put up with this last week. You were just so happy you were clean. Your hair was smooth as water soaked it through, no knots or clumps of blood to be found. As you squeezed out the excess water, you caught your reflection between the ripples. In moments where it stilled enough, you could see the scar on your neck. It was still deep and prominent, but it was beginning to heal. It'd never healed before.

"Enjoying yourself?"

You nearly shrieked when you turned, sinking into the water up to your neck for protection. Astarion chuckled at your reaction.

"Would it kill you to stop sneaking up on me?"

"I was practically stomping like an ogre, dear, it's hardly my fault you weren't paying attention." You shot him a glare, but it was half-hearted. It was your fault you let your guard down. In the day, you were safe from (most) vampires, but there were any number of things ready to attack at any moment. "Mind if I join you?"

You shake your head, but you're already wading to shore to grab your clothes. "No, go ahead. I'm done."

"Leaving already?" You nod, not making eye contact. "I won't look, darling, if that's what's got you so flustered."

You pause mid reach for your shirt as he removes his, placing it haphazardly on a rock by the water's edge. His pants came next and you looked away until you heard the water sloshing around him.

"Though, I don't mind if you look," he teased, sparing one last glance over his shoulder before he got to work cleaning himself.

Gods, if he could hear the way your heart raced... You peek over, just a glance, before you look back at your clothes. But then you're looking again.

An intricate scar of circles, lines, and curved symbols marred his back. You feel your throat close just looking at it. You'd been forced to watch spawn and slaves alike punished by the cracking of a whip. Forced to keep your eyes forward by a hand on your jaw as the leather snapped and tore into their skin. This was worse. This was deliberate.

"Did..." You swallow, forcing your voice not to crack with the sorrow you felt for him. "Did your master do this?"

He hummed, continuing to wash his arms as though you'd asked him about the weather. The only hint it bothered him at all was the way his muscles tensed and the disdain in his voice. "Cazador," he spat. "He considered himself quite the artist and used his slaves as a canvas." His movements slowed to a stop. "He composed and carved that one over the course of a night. He made... a lot of revisions as he went."

You couldn't stop staring. Your mind kept replaying the torture you witnessed, but it replaced their cries with Astarion's voice. You hated to be so lucky. To be so fortunate that your master wanted you to look absolutely perfect and unmarked. You never received physical punishment. You were too precious.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, shakily. "If I could, I'd..." What? Remove the markings forever? Take away his pain and suffering? Go back and change everything so he never had to be a puppet? You couldn't do anything. You can't help. You can't remove that pain. All you can do is witness the aftermath.

He sighed and ducked his head so he could wash his hair. Drops of water slid down his back, only drawing your eyes in further. “It won’t matter when we get to Baldur’s Gate. I’m going to kill that bastard for everything he did to me.”

You know you should leave. Put on your clothes and slink away. But… being around Astarion isn’t entirely unpleasant. You’re still a little scared of him - of what he could do, but you trust him enough to believe he wouldn’t do those things. He probably understood your plight better than anyone else.

So, you slide down into the water until you’re resting on your knees in the silt. It doesn’t quite cover your neck unless you duck deeper in. You want to hide the scar, the damn mark showing everyone else who - or rather, what you belonged to. But it felt wrong to try hiding it when Astarion was fully showing you his.

“I never asked who your master was.” He turns his head slightly, eyes just barely catching sight of you. He did promise he wouldn’t look, after all. “Where she…” He waved a hand noncommittally and scowled. “Rules.”

Her eyes flash in your mind, wicked and burning. You almost flinch just thinking about them. When you speak her name, your voice trembles. “Kir Parthene. I… don’t remember where she lives. It’s been years since I’ve even been outside - I must have forgotten.”

He slowly turns, giving you time to tell him to turn back again, but you don’t. You watch him through a fog of memories. “How long were you enslaved?”

It’s harder to answer than you thought it would be. Time begins to blur when you can’t tell if it’s night or day, when everything is fuzzy and incoherent because you never had enough blood to think straight. Sometimes she’d feed and then leave you for days. Others, she never wanted to stop feeding - drinking from you morning and night before you ever got a chance to recover. You were a slave to her hunger - time never mattered.

“I was… 16 when I was taken.” You wrap your arms around yourself. Safe. “I don’t even remember home. My parents… I’m all alone.”

He’d never heard your voice so small before. You weren’t the most demanding leader, but you could still bark commands when things were getting rough. You even held yourself well in conversation, shutting down lopsided deals or uncomfortable topics with all the authority of a royal guard. It was easier, seeing you like this, to imagine your life in servitude. Meek and quiet.

“That’s not entirely true.” He kneeled in the silt a few feet from you, smirking. “You have us for as long as this adventure lasts, as long as we don’t transform into tentacled Mind Flayers.”

“And then after that?” He shifts uncomfortably at the question. “Everyone will go their separate ways, and when you do I’m a sitting duck. I’ll be captured again. Used again.”

You trail off, but the weight of your words sit heavy. You’ll never be free. You could help everyone else with their quests, help them free themselves from what ties them down, help them get stronger - but the same couldn’t be done for you. Without knowing where your master lives, there’s no way to seek her out and kill her, too.

The water is too cold now. The cool summer breeze only freezes you more. Astarion watches as you get up and slink back over to your clothes. He looks away before he can see anything you wouldn’t want him to. In no time at all, your clothes are back on and you’ve pulled on your boots. But before you walk away, you turn to him. Your eyes are so sad.

“Thank you. For… showing me.” He says nothing. So you head back to camp. Alone.

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis

@hypopxia

@flsalazar

@beverlybeav

@angelofthorr

@emiemiemiii

@marina-and-the-memes

@lynnlovesloki

@aurasyn

#fanfic #fanfiction #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldur's gate tav #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #light angst #i come with knives

[poppadom0912]

Together (X)

Warnings: Mentions of violence, blood, injuries, abuse, kidnappings, shootings, swearing and scary men.

Summary: Everyone's reunited at last and are never letting go.

A/N: This is the last chapter before the epilogue. I just wanna reiterate how much fun writing this has been and how much i appreciate all the love and support you've shown this series.

It's a bit too late for my liking but I've only now finished writing. This week was so busy for me but I promised and here it is!

Enjoy the last 2.5k words of angst because the epilogue is next!!🙃😊

Previous Chapter / Series Masterlist / Next Chapter

Kelly was bursting through the seams with anxiety. The entire time while responding to the car pile-up, he was riddled with it and the tension he harboured carried through to everyone else.  

It put him at somewhat ease to know at least Sylvie and Violet were with you as well as Intelligence and then eventually everyone at Med. You were going to be surrounded by people you loved and vice versa.  

When the scene started to get cleared up, Boden wasted no time and let Kelly go, urging him to take his buggy and promising everyone would be there once everything was finished.  

The second Kelly stepped into the ED, April was at his side and guiding him towards the ICU where you were being kept for now. On the way up, she carefully explained what she knew and warned him about your appearance.  

Kelly didn't know what to think till he saw your face for himself and God, he wanted to bring hell onto earth.  

Jay heard his soft steps, picking up his head from the back of the chair. Kelly wouldn't say it to his face, but Jay looked horrible, eye bags dark and sullen, hair uncombed and frizzy and injury wise, the bandages told him enough. Somehow, Jay looked worse than what he did yesterday when Kelly last saw him.  

Upon seeing the lieutenant, Jay tiredly smiled at him, easing himself out of his chair and half limped out the room with the IV pole in his left hand. Kelly went forward hastily to help him, telling him to sit back down or help him out the room into another seat but Jay shrugged him off, weakly pushing his efforts away. 

“Go be with my sister you dumbass. April’s here to help me, don’t worry.” 

And with that, he watched his childhood friend help support his supposed soon to be brother-in-law down the white hallways of the intensive care unit. 

Kelly's eyes burned when he first caught sight of you. The last time he saw you was on the video he'd been sent of you screaming as you were being beaten up.  

Gosh, Kelly had felt so helpless and still feels as such.  

Sitting in the chair Jay had previously been inhabiting, Kelly took his time to fully study you, memorising every feature of your face once again in fear of having you ripped out his grasp again.  

You looked so different. Kelly knew your body by the back of his hand and had your every single detail down to the cell engraved into the forefront of his mind. You looked so different but so recognisable, there was no mistaking that this sleeping woman was indeed you.  

Six hours ago, everyone was ready to mourn the oldest and the youngest Halstead. Despite the resilience Intelligence bleed, everyone had been told to prepare for the worst and six hours ago, all hope was lost and giving up seemed so sweet but so sour it still stung now.  

Kelly hesitated, hand hovering mid-air over yours, eyes cast down on your battered body that he could only see little of. Healing scabs and scars alike marred your hands, the sight making him falter, wondering if it was even a good idea to hold your hand. But then the last two days flashed in his eyes and without another thought, he gently placed your hand in his.  

Relief washed over him in waves, flooding his veins. This sensation felt so bittersweet, the sweet poking the tears from his eyes and the bitter nipping at his ankles. To have you back in his vicinity, to have you back home, Kelly never wanted anything so badly before in his life. Despite this, you had been through the ringer, experiencing pain like no other, pain that you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy.

Actually, the Murray’s deserve worse, maybe the devil himself. Hell and a bit more sounded sufficient enough.

With his hand safely enveloping yours, Kelly felt himself calming down. Even with all the machinery beeping around him, to feel your pulse against his fingers made this dream a reality.

Soft knocking brought him out of his thoughts. Reluctantly pulling his eyes away from you, Kelly found Sylvie standing at the door with two coffees in hand, Violet nowhere in sight.

“Maggie said I can’t give this to Jay, so…” Sylvie said, dragging the word as she held out the paper cup towards him, shrugging her shoulders sheepishly when Kelly smirked in amusement.

“Thanks Brett.” Kelly smiled, gladly taking the caffeine from her hands, and drinking with no hesitation. Truth be told, no one in the firehouse slept much last night, they had too much playing on their minds.

“Crocket said surgery went well.” Sylvie started, standing by your head, fingers caressing your hair as she gently pulled each tangle apart one by one. “I know it doesn’t look like it but she’s going to be fine.”

There was a pregnant pause, Sylvie’s attention diverted and solely on detangling your matted hair before bringing a washcloth that sat on the table to get rid of any residue and dirt stuck on your face. Her trained fingers were put to work, her eyes not once leaving your face as she continued without stopping.

“She’s going to be just fine.”

*****

Kevin was overwhelmed, so was Kim and Hailey but much less so than the aforementioned man. The rest of the team, well they were off busy with the Murray’s and their many, many (somehow attained) henchmen.

The two women were bystanders in it all, coming much later and missing out the most brutal parts. The same could not be said for Kevin and Will.

The two men were following Jay out the warehouse but at a much slower pace. Kevin was supporting Will as best he could, apologising every time the doctor winced and faltered in his steps. Eventually, Jay got so far ahead that he disappeared and very likely was already outside and getting you into the single ambulance waiting.

All of a sudden, the silence that was only interrupted by Will expressing his pain was intruded by gunfire.

They really couldn’t catch a break, could they?

Will apparently remembered the hallways and pointed out a dead-end corridor for them to take cover in and despite his pain riddled brain, he wasn’t wrong.

Without any hesitation, Kevin drew his gun from his holster and shot when necessary and whenever he found someone lurking nearby. Without diverting his attention, he grabbed his walkie and called for backup, relaying both in code and not what was happening.  

Eventually when some time had passed, way too long for Kevin to be comfortable with, Kim and Hailey appeared from around the corner, guns held up in caution before they lowered at the sight of the officer.  

Despite having everything under control, Kevin felt better having his colleagues with him now that Jay was gone. With their help, together they could probably get Will out quicker.  

Now that everything calmed down, Kevin could finally solely put his focus onto said man. Turning his back to the two women, Kevin went to talk to the redhead but found himself speechless at the sight he was met with.  

Lord knows how but up above was a window that some crazy henchman busted his way through and had silently landed on the ground behind him. The man was dressed in all black, blonde hair pocking from the mask he wore armed with both a gun and knife.  

Worst of all, the unnamed and very much unwelcomed man was way too close to Will for Kevin's liking.  

Before Kevin could properly take care of the dude, a shot was fired, and the man fell very ungracefully onto the solid floor, the sound of the impact making all the intelligence personnel internally wince.  

With the nuisance out of the way and no more pathetic distractions, Kevin turned to the redheaded man once again and the sight made him sick. So sick that he had to bite his tongue and hold back any bile from coming up.  

Kim and Hailey clearly felt the same, both gasping from behind him.  

The annoying man had been left ‘alone’ with Will for plenty long enough because along with all his injuries, another gaping wound had been added. Will was riddled in open wounds, the longer you stared the worse they looked. This one, instead of sitting among the others in his torso, was nicely placed in his thigh which conveniently was just above where Jay had been shot.  

It seemed very convenient that every place on his body that had a wound were the places that bled the most. Will was having so much fun right now.

“Shit! Will!” Kevin rushed to kneel down before the slouched man. Chucking his gun and radio aside, quite carelessly, his brain short circuited before everything kicked in.

“Pressure.” Will coughed out, visibly struggling to keep breathing steadily. “You- you need to put pressure on it.” He repeated, wheezing as he liked his chapped and pale lips.

Without question, Hailey hastily took off the thin jacket she was wearing, rushing forward, and kneeling besides Kevin. With caution and slight apprehension, she positioned the jacket around his thigh but hesitated when she was supposed to tie it.

“This is going to hurt Will.” She said firmly, her strong tone warning him.

“The tighter…” Will started, slowly blinking up at the blonde woman who he knew secretly liked his brother and vice versa. “The better.”

And with that, Hailey tied the simplest knot and pulled hard.

“Fuck!” Will exclaimed, voice breaking. “Motherfucker-“

“Sorry! I’m so sorry but it’s all done.” Hailey incessantly apologised to him; her remorse visible on her face but before she could get up, she was stopped by a hand gripping her wrist.

“You have to go tighter.” Will stated, his fingers clutching her wrist as tight as he could but Hailey barely felt any weight. “Just like a torniquet. It has- has to be tight or else…”

“Will, stay with us man.” Kevin said, his tone leaking with urgency, almost pleading him. “You’re the doctor, walk us through it.”

Forcing his eyes open, Will blearily started at the three of them. His mind was completely muddled and subconsciously, he incredulously wondered how they hadn’t been trained to make a tourniquet in the field.

“Belt?”

Without further say, Kevin was getting up to unbuckle his belt easier, Kim replacing his space.

With much struggled, many pauses and tons of encouragement, they kept him alert enough for him to guide them through making a tourniquet around his thigh. The pain was unbearable, altogether it was blinding.

“I’m so sorry Will.” Kim whispered, sitting in front of him but she was alone with him, Kevin and Hailey gone off to find what was taking the medical attention so long to arrive. “Just a little longer I swear.”

“Jay! Stop panicking.”

“Hailey, it’s Will-“

“We’ve got him, go be with Y/N.”

“But Will- are you sure?”

“He’s trying his best, okay? Go be with our girl.”

And that might’ve been the last thing Will heard, the faint shouting between the two detective partners. Kim’s voice actually, he heard that last, her shouts for help when his eyes slid shut.

Actually, Jay’s desperate pleading, that was the last thing he heard.

*****

"It was part of protocol we run a rape kit."

Kelly couldn't breathe. His only saving grace being that Jay wasn't currently in the room with him.

"It came out clean."

Kelly physically deflated at the good news.

"It's going to take a while but she will recover. They both will." Ethan said, having permission from Crocket to tell him the news.

"And no one's heard anything about Will yet?"

The silence was so suffocating, if Kelly squinted, he could probably see Ethan turning blue from the lack of oxygen.

"We've been told we're waiting on a body. They want us to confirm it."

Kelly didn't need to ask for Ethan to break it down for him. He knew exactly what that meant.

If he looked the Korean man in the eye, Kelly would definitely see a thin sheen of tears coating his eyes.

*****

Antonio had been doing this for a long time, he’d seen and been through a lot himself but this, this would stay with him for a long time.

The guttural screams that tore his vocal cords to further damage. The blood trailed after him like the bread from Hansel and Gretel, painting the crime scene a war zone. His cries begging to know his baby brother and sister were safe and, in a hospital, where they could recover.

They were watching the innocent doctor become a martyr right before their very own eyes.

What happened next could only be explained by pure, sheer will and determination.

While they were hounding for an ambulance, Antonio caught men getting escorted away in cuffs, all looking identical until the final two men left the building. The rage he felt, Antonio didn’t know how any of them remained stationary.

It was a miracle Will came back to consciousness. When he closed his eyes and his body went limp, everyone truly thought that was it, after everything the Halstead’s had done to survive, this was the unhappy ending they were getting. But then, Will gave the biggest middle finger to fate because after all of this, she could be damned for all he could care.

Will remained alert enough, being continuously roused by each of the remaining intelligence members when they noticed his eyelids sliding shut. They tried distracting him, updating him on the wellbeing of his siblings, news that was happily provided.

The only ones that remained was Antonio and Kevin. The rest had been forced to accompany Jay just in case, they were all preparing for the worse case scenario. And Hank, he was making sure the bastards never got to see the light of day ever again.

Ten minutes passed. By now, it had been two hours since they got on the scene and an hour since they raided the warehouse. The more Will struggled; the more Antonio was losing his patience. Right before the naked eye, out in the open for the entire universe to see, Will was bleeding out; he was dying. Death was looming, crawling from a mile away but its stench was strong, it’s shadow too close for comfort.

Making eye contact with Kevin, they had a silent conversation and with no argument, they were lifting Will up and nearly carrying him towards the car.

This was their last chance and they weren’t going to wait for that ambulance anymore.

And for once, fate guided them with a beaming light. She overturned the hatred she'd shown and led them safely, holding out a much-needed lifeline.

And so when the car screeched to a halt at Med’s ambulance bay doors, Will found it easier to breathe.

Series Masterlist:

@mads-weasley @sowrongitslottie @elite4cekalyma @senjoritanana @hufflepuff-blackwidow @mrspeacem1nusone @kmc1989 @goth-cowgirl-03 @daggersquadphantom @photographerkaiya0306 @jamie0515 @samanthavitale @iamasimpingh0e @lanea-1 @swidkid @jamie0515

#one chicago x reader #one chicago imagine #jay halstead x reader #onechicago #chicago fire #chicago med #chicago pd #will halstead x reader #halstead sister #halstead brothers #kelly severide x reader #jay halstead x sister!reader #will halstead x sister!reader

[loupy-mongoose]

Another writing that got long, so putting a Read More~

I wish I could've continued this interaction as a comic, but I ran out of energy. Life got busy, my mood fluctuated. So this one's written. X3

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PREVIOUS NEXT

ARC START | CHRONO

~~~~~~

Lavender woke in her bed with a gasp. She sat up, gulping air as the dream vision invaded her waking mind.

It wasn't real... It was just a vision... It wouldn't have hurt you, Lav. It wouldn't have hurt you...

As she calmed down, her attention shifted to something else.

She reached out with her mind.

...Nico?...

Nothing.

Lav's face scrunched up in anger. Dang it...

She flopped back onto her pillow, her arms sprawled out beside her. Here eyes were shut tight. Rrrrrrgh... Sorry, Nico, I didn't mean to wake up!

Something tickled her attention in her mind, but she didn't dwell on it.

Curse the flimsiness of our connection!

This time, she couldn't ignore it.

.a...v..nder?...

Lav froze, listening intently and focusing with all her might.

...Nico?

...u.. s....ll ..ear m....?

Lav smiled and mentally shouted as strongly as she could, careful to not connect with her family's mindscapes. I hear you, Nico! I hear you! Can you hear me?!

Lav? Lav!? I heard you!

Yes! Lav clenched her fists in her spike of joy. YES! Finally! We can talk without the worry of it collapsing at the slightest breath!

I'm... Kinda surprised you still want to talk... I'm sorry about the visions. I got carried away...

No, no, it's fine! It just startled me!

...It seemed like a strong reaction for just a startle...

I'm fine, honest! Lav tried to ignore that he was right. Anyway, that’s not the end of the story, right? You said you didn’t feel guilty then… But you clearly regret what happened.

...I do... His voice was subdued. Yes. I now regret what happened. But... Back then, I was truly the monster they wanted me to be. I was their good little weapon, until I decided they didn't see me as an equal.

After I d... d-destroyed the lab... I roamed Kanto. I challenged people and Pokemon alike... I attacked them... I...

His mental voice broke.

I killed them...

Both Lav and Nico fell silent. Lav could tell she was getting more adept at this connection thing, as she faintly felt that they were still linked.

What changed?

You said Fuji taught you gentleness and kindness, but you still... She shivered, hoping that he couldn't sense her apprehension. What made you change your mind from "monster" to regretful?

...Jovie.

Lav couldn't help smiling at the pure warmth in his mental voice. Your mate?

He spoke with a wistful tone. If Fuji planted the seeds, Jovie watered and nurtured them.

I, uh....

I stumbled into her home town. A little hidden place called Shadegrove. I... I attacked... And she defended.

Looking back... she was amazing.

So brave, and strong. Determined to save the town and people she loved.

And she succeeded.

I couldn't overpower her, so I left. Exhausted. Embarrassed.

And Furious.

First my parent, then this...

Lav felt a jolt.

I figured Mews wanted nothing to do with the Monster they had created.

Woah woah woah, wait! Your parent? Did you know your parent?

...

I saw them leave. Before I left my incubation tube.

Incubation tube? Lav took a mental note of the strange phrase.

I'm sure of it... It's my earliest memory.

A Mew's tail vanishing into the distance... Either my parent, or a Mew who knew me...

It abandoned me.

And after Jovie attacked me, I thought... I thought it was me. Mews hated me.

But I was wrong.

She followed me.

And I would be dead now if she hadn't

She found me after a challenge I'd made went wrong, and healed me up. And she did the unthinkable.

She was kind to me.

She worked to get to know me.

She cared about me.

And I found myself returning those feelings.

She made me laugh.

She made me care.

She made me happy.

And eventually... we fell in love.

That's... pretty much all the important stuff...

Lav sat quiet, contemplating the rest of the story she'd heard. Is that how you got that scar?

...Yeah...

You ever hear about Zapdos?

She felt her heart skip a beat, remembering stories her dad had read to her of the powerful electric-type legendary bird. ...Wow...

Yup.

They both went quiet.

Nico...

Lav's mental voice was soft.

Thank you. Seriously. For being brave enough to share that with me.

Wou... Would you be okay with me telling it to my dad?

Nico was silent. Lav could almost feel the buzz of his mind as he contemplated. Finally, he spoke up.

If you think it'll help. I... I worry it won't, but... You know him better than I do.

Do what you think is best, Lav.

Lav tried to form the question; Why are you afraid of him? But a yawn broke her concentration. She looked at the time.

Shoot. I should go back to sleep, or I'll be hurting tomorrow. Catch ya later?

If you want to!

Yeah! She smiled. Good night, Nico!

Good night, Lav.

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ARC START | CHRONO

#Linden Roots #writing #branch #BLH #By Lavender's Hand #full

[stormyjane7]

A Healing Cut

Summary:

A night in the woods for the tiefling party trying to make up what the Loviatar priest had done. This is based on a HC I have with my own tav. That said, I did not write any gender or attributes in here so you can visualize it as your tav/you! Enjoy!

TW: Knifeplay, Cutting, Safewords, Safeword Use

Read on Ao3

You had been traveling with your new companions for a bit now. You had gotten close to a few. A certain vampire, however, was the closest to you. The tension between you two was getting thick. So much so it prompted you to inform him of one past trauma and that it would take time for you to be okay with sex with him. His face sank when you said that but brightened again when you said things like kissing and other things were still on the table.

Today would be a breaking point in your tension. As you stood half naked against a wall and let a priest of Loviatar slash wildly at your back with a ritual dagger. Astarion at first seemed enthralled and cheered you on, but you could tell a change in tone at the end. He had a touch of fear in his voice and you didn’t like it. You doubted it was because there was blood dripping down your back.

After the priest was done, you thanked him and grabbed your shirt out of Astarion’s shaking hand. He suddenly grabbed you and ran you out of the room. You were turned and slightly pushed into the wall, his hands roaming softly over every inch of your skin. You hear him get something out of his side pouch.

“Here, drink this so these wounds can heal up.” He also had taken a rag out and took your water skein to wet it. It was honestly amazingly tender how he was taking care of you. You could tell that every movement thus far was frantic. “There you are. All done.”

You slowly turn around and shuffle your shirt back on. You haven’t looked him in the face yet, you’re scared too.

“Thank you,” you say, “I do have to ask, are you okay though?” You finally look up and see his eyes are skirting the edge of crying.

“I’m sorry darling, I just…I had scarring done to my own back ages ago and didn’t want you to suffer as I had.”

“Oh gods Astarion. I’m sorr-'' Your words are cut off by a swift but searing kiss. You both break apart to breathe and lean your foreheads together.

“I can tell you about it later. Let's get the rest of your gear on so we can finish this place and get out of here.”

**************************

Taking out the goblins wasn’t as terrible as you had thought it would be. It certainly didn’t take all day either. What your group didn’t expect was the tieflings at the grove inviting themselves to your camp for an impromptu party after it was all said and done. You had agreed but now wish you hadn’t. You and the rest of the team were exhausted. The party did help with morale even if it was going to keep the team awake.

You mingled around, dodged advances from tieflings and teammates alike, and finally snuck into your own tent to grab an actual good bottle of wine you intended to share with the vampire. You saved talking to him last as you knew you’d never want to mingle with anyone else after. Especially after the fire he lit into you with that kiss earlier.

“There she is. The star of the show. I was wondering when you’d grace me with your presence after you have spoken to everyone else here.” You could tell his pride was hurt and he was letting you know with his tone.

“I knew I’d never want to get away if I came to you first.” You smile and shake the wine bottle at him “plus I had to sneak to get the good stuff out of my tent. Care to share it with me?”

“Oh darling, you are amazing. This so called wine they have is awful.”

You take a seat on the stool he keeps outside his tent. He sits down in front of you and leans an arm on top of your lap.

Comfortable silence fell over both of you as you looked around the camp. Many you could tell would be coupling up tonight. It made you feel wistful as you couldn’t offer that to the vampire, not yet atleast.

“Copper for your thoughts darling?” He gave you a smirk.

“I. Uh. Was a bit sad at everyone getting together tonight. Especially since I am still not ready for that as much as I’m sure it would be enjoyable.”

“You know, we could make our own form of entertainment tonight if you like. It’d be just me and you getting to know each other better. No sex has to be involved.” He was twirling a finger around the top of your leg as he spoke.

“Oh? What ideas are going on in that head of yours?”

He looked up at you with the wickedest grin and said, “ come down to the river side after everyone goes to bed. There is a nice size tree trunk there. We will talk more and decide if it’s something we want to do. If not we can still just get drunk and talk.” He stands up with the bottle of wine you brought, places a kiss to your cheek and walks off into the woods.

**************************

You found the spot just as he instructed. He was sitting on the ground facing the tree trunk he had mentioned. Leaning back on his hands his face was upturned towards the moon basking in it. If you didn’t know his devilish self better you would have thought he was an angel sitting there as ethereal as he looked.

On the tree you noticed he had set a few things out for the two of you. A bottle of wine you had given him earlier, a few health potions, and a smaller dagger than he normally fights with were laid out. This definitely piqued your interest for what was about to happen.

“Ah there you are darling. Come here, sit on my lap won’t you? Face me so we can talk face to face.” He called out. You moved further toward him and lowered yourself down on his lap, blushing a little at the closeness of it all.

“Just what are you playing at Astarion? Hmm?”

“Well darling, I want to give you a better memory than what that damn priest would have left you with. I could see that in parts you enjoyed it. I mean pain and pleasure can go hand and hand. I just thought maybe you could trust me a little to give you a better experience.”

“Are you sure? You did mention earlier about being scarred yourself. I wouldn’t want to ask you to relieve your own horrors for my potential pleasure.”

“My master carved what he called a poem into my back, dragging the dagger deep and hard against my skin. I want to reclaim the idea into something more pleasant.”

You shifted to sit back from him for a little bit. You clearly didn’t want to hurt him, but if he wanted to do this then why stop him. “Apple,” you say softly, “if things get too much for you, or me as well, say the word apple and we’ll stop immediately.”

“Mmm I do like that. It’s not like I won’t get to drink of you tonight from doing this either. This will definitely be a mutual experience.” He said with a wide grin. “May I?” He asks while pointing at your top. Your blush deepens and you nod at him. He starts unbuttoning your blouse with ease. While you were topless earlier in front of your team, this was more intimate for sure. Even if there was no intention of sex, it made you feel a rush at the thought of baring yourself to him.

A hum of approval from Astarion brought you out of your head and thoughts. Your shirt was fully opened now and falling off both shoulders. Your entire body flushed at being naked and him appreciating it.

“Oh you do turn a lovely shade of red darling. So beautiful you are, now that I can get a better look than I did earlier.” He helped finish taking your blouse off of you fully and set it to the side of him.

“Before we get started,” Your words started to falter and he raised your head toward him to finish, “can I kiss you?”

“I would like that. Come here darling.” He took the hand already under your chin and put it on the side of your face, sliding it behind your neck to pull you forward. If you thought the sparks from earlier at the goblin camp were a fire, this was a volcano. Your lips met softly at first and slowly turned into needing more and more of each other. Breathless, you both part and smile at the other.

“Now turn around dear, use the tree trunk to lean forward against.” He said while moving the wine and knife. He took a swig of the wine and offered it to you while you were changing your position. You waved it off mumbling, maybe later.

You sit on your knees then lean forward onto the tree trunk. It’s cold but rough bark bites into your skin. It was a calming relief for the heat across your chest. You took a few big breaths to calm yourself and you could hear Astarion doing the same.

You wince a bit as you can feel the cold steel of the blade and braced for the first cut. You let out another breath as he drug the blade a tiny bit across your shoulder blade. You could feel a small trickle of blood coming from it and then breath close to it as Astarion licked across the new mark. A muffled moan left your lip.

“Oh this will be fun, do you want to continue?” He asked with a somewhat giddy sound in his voice.

“Slowly like you did, yes, please.” You looked back at him to gauge his reaction. “Also, please ask after each one, would you?” He nodded at you before putting the blade a bit away from the first mark and drawing it across about the same length as the first one. As before, it was followed by his tongue lapping up the blood he brought forth.

“We still good kitten? Want another one?” His voice sounded like it was on fire. You nodded back to him to continue.

This went on till the top of your back was littered in little cuts, some still seeping blood.The bottle of wine drained between the two of you. Many words about both of your pasts talked about but seemingly on the surface level. Your affection for this man was growing by the minute and you prayed he felt the same.

“Why don’t we call it a night here darling? We’re out of wine and I don't want to move lower on your back.”

“Mmm,” Your voice came out soft and almost sleepily, “I guess apples it is.”

You hear the potion bottle being uncorked and a kiss pressed against your back before he poured some of the healing liquid over the cuts.

“Here drink the other while I finish cleaning you up back here.” He started rubbing your back with what you assumed was a rag with water. You sighed at the care he was showing you after doing what you did together. It was refreshing compared to past relationships. If he was going to continue being like this, you could see falling in love with this man and allowing him into your world. All of a sudden, you felt yourself being pulled back. Astarion had wrapped his arms around your waist and put his head on your shoulder.

“Thank you for allowing me to do that. Shows me how gentle life could have been.” He placed a kiss on your cheek. “The trust you put in me and my hand is profound, thank you truly.”

You lean back and move to where you can look him in the eye over your shoulder. You absolutely knew then and there by the look in his eyes, you were going to fall so hard.

#astarion #astarion x reader

[surplus-of-sarcasm]

The 21st One

Written for the amazing writer @epiclamer, I hope you enjoy this!

TW: Blood, bone-breaking, mentions of ice baths, knives, pain, very whumpy and a veryyy slight mention of suicide for an exaggeration (you'll get it when you read the fic)

Pain was not just a sensation anymore. It was Hero's new reality. Their every moment was characterised by agony, every laboured breath a desperate prayer to escape the hellscape they seemed to be tied down to, the strings of their miserable fate wrapped cruelly around their neck choking them slowly.

"You should see yourself, Hero. Such an alluring masterpiece I've made you into," Supervillain sneered coldly.

They would lazily grip their knife, slicing harsh jagged lines through the crime-fighter's battered skin, sometimes cutting again through old, barely healing cuts. They'd leave Hero covered in blood and sweat, save for the times they would force them into a tank of ice-cold water, the chill racking their slowly diminishing figure with shivers.

The master criminal knew exactly where to hit to make them howl out in pain, their efforts to muffle their own screams rendered completely useless. They desecrated their body with bruises, in hideous shades of brown, yellow, purple and a sickly blue alike. They targeted their weak spots, most of which were weak because they'd inflicted so much damage upon them in the first place.

They don't beg, but they don't try to resist either. It's not like it would've made even an inkling of a difference. Supervillain was hell-bent on making Hero's torture an everlasting experience, till they were more wound than body.

But today, they are especially awful, as though trying to prove their passionate contempt of the mere idea of mercy and decorate it with their lack of empathy.

"I've written myself all over you," the croon, voice so venomously sweet with a promise of danger lacing their tone, sending an involuntary shiver up the crime-stopper's spine. They trace their fingers across yesterday's scars, sticking the nails into open cuts.

They decide to smash parts of Hero's ribcage, slamming their boots one too many times into their victim's abdomen until they hear a loud, grotesque crack.

"Sadly, I have some important matters to attend to. But don't you worry, little hero, someone else will play with you until I come back." And they leave them, breathless, spurting out blood, tying them to the chair again with harsh bindings.

It's only a few mere moments later that the door reopens again, light creeping into the desolate room, and the sound of footsteps echoes in Hero's ears.

Villain.

They would've sobbed, but they didn't have the energy to even breathe. The criminal was ruthless in their fights, and they weren't afraid of playing dirty. Their nemesis gives them a cold look

Pointlessly, foolishly, they ask for a luxury they're certain they can't afford. "C-can you p-please jus' not. . .not hurt me?"

"Give me one single, convincing, goddamn reason why I should," they hiss, fisting the hero's hair between their fingers.

Hero doesn't reply. There is no reason they can come up with that could ever be deemed 'convincing' by their enemy.

But the villain chooses to let go of their locks, and something flashes briefly in their eyes, a look akin to regret.

The blood loss must be making Hero delirious.

They pull out a knife from their belt, and the captive can't supress the soft whine that escapes their lips. Villain walks forward, blade in hand, unreadable expression on their stone-hard face. They stop in their tracks, tipping a little on the balls of their feet, looking almost lost for lack of a better word. Their grip tightens on the knife, and they cross the distance between them and the hero.

Only to slice through their restraints.

They cradle Hero's body against them, pulling them along and laying them down on the floor as they fetched some medical supplies. They can't risk getting a damned hero into the medbay.

They lay their form down on their lap, gingerly lifting their shirt up to examine the wounds. They wipe at them with antiseptic, subconsciously running their fingers through their hair whenever they winced. They bandage the broken ribs as best as they can, and carefully stitch up the deeper scratches.

"I'm almost done, hold still," they whisper gruffly, but there's a slight gentleness hanging off of their words.

They're lucky they brought their water bottle with them. They bring it up to the crime-fighter's cracked and bloodied lips, and they help them drink carefully.

"Th-thank you," they rasp out weakly.

"This is only so you owe me a favour, Hero," they snap, but it's half-hearted and missing the bite it needed.

A hasty attempt at a coverup for the real reason.

What they'd done was beyond dangerous. It was almost suicide, right in Supervillain's territory.

They don't care. All that matters is the crime-fighter slowly falling asleep properly for the first time in a month in their lap.

Villain had a habit of making sure they got what they wanted. They swore to stick to it for eternity.

✨️Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-whump @enbious-prince @dodo-docs @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @justalittlecorrupted @addictedsandwhichaki @quaggasus @vernilliom @sirrsnakesssss

Wanna be on the taglist? This will take you there!

#prompt #hero x villain #whump #somewhat dark tbh #hero whumpee #villain caretaker #supervillain whumper #hero x supervillain #villain x supervillain #female writers #writers on tumblr #a little gremlin's writing #I hope this was a good read

[a-998h]

Five

Creator POV

After an amazing breakfast, Venti takes me into the city. He drags me all over the place to see things, but I notice a few things, mainly that there are Snapdragons and Calla Lillies everywhere, and people are walking into the cathedral with Apple Cider, Dandelion Wine, Fruits of the Festival, and Mint Jelly,Moon Pie,and Northern Apple Stew. I realize... the shrine I saw when I first came to Mondstadt, then another realization hits me... Sumeru, Liyue, and Mondstadt was preparing for a festival and something tells me it's to worship me!

"Hey, Venti what's with the flowers and the large amount of people entering the cathedral?" I ask, hoping that my fear was unnecessary paranoia.

"Your grace, everyone's preparing for a festival," Venti explained.

"Oh, what's the festival for?" I ask, now genuinely curious about this festival.

"It's to welcome you back!" Venti cheerly yelled.

Well, fuck.... That is all I thought. At this point I feel like I'm gonna pass out.

Noelle's POV

I was helping Amber decorate the outside of headquarters. From the latter, I see the bard Venti talking with the Creator. The two seem to be having a pleasant conversation. Venti was probably explaining the festival to the Creator, and then I see the Creator falling to the ground.

I climb down the latter and rush to the scene with Amber following behind me.

"Is the Creator ok?" I ask.

A plus is still present, so that means the Creator is alive. I know ever since Barbara got her vision she has had the ability to heal people, I've seen her do it before.

With Amber's help I put the Creator on my back. I rush to the Chirch while Amber stays behind to question Venti.

"Noelle, what brings you he- Oh my!" Barbara shouts.

Explaining what happened I beg Barbara to use her healing music. She nods and does just that. At that time Amber, Jean, and other knights were running inside the cathedral.

"Is the Creator healed deaconess Barbara?" A knight asked.

Barbara nodded but told us to wait until the Creator woke up. I was worried, what if it was something fatal. No Barbara can heal serious injuries on the knights, how is this an different. I notice a scar on the Creator's hand, the scar from when the Creator first came to Mondstadt. It was sad to see such a mighty god be reduced to someone so fragile. The knights leave and I follow behind. I can't stand to see the Creator this weak.

Venti's POV

As I walk into the cathedral I see Jean and a group of knights leaving. Me and Jean share a look before I walk inside. I see Barbara looking over the Creator's sleeping body.

"Is the Creator going to be ok?" I asked her.

She nods, and tells me that no head damage happened when the Creator fainted. Looking as the Creator sleeps, I feel like crying. It's not fair! Why did the Creator have to be taken from us at all? The Creator did so much for the gods and humans alike and then fate pulled them away! Now that the Creator is back, only fragile and weak like any human. Petting the Creator's hair I think to the bright side, soon the Creator can't leave us again.

#genshin fanfic #cult au #sagau #creator!reader #sagau lore #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

[starsarefire824]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love❤

aw thanks lex!!! <3

I'll stick with Stranger Things ones for this, in no particular order.

Lay Me Down Slow (M, 2/3) It's 1998 and Will is anxiously making his way to a bar to meet up with Mike, who he hasn't seen in over a decade. Emotions run high as he shares a drink with him, and when a confrontation turns violent, it leads to truths being told and the two of them finding each other again. Will POV.

I am having entirely too much fun with this one!!

Demons of Change and Wildflower Eyes (M, ongoing)- High school hasn't been easy for Will Byers, and he's had to live with the emotional scars of a loveless father and supernatural worlds as well as the physical ones from the hands of the bullies that make his everyday existence hell. One night, when he's looking for some peace and quiet Will comes upon one of them and something surprising happens. As he and Mike Wheeler tentatively open up to each other, they just might discover they may be exactly what they need to give each other much needed healing and self-acceptance. Can they survive everything that comes along with that?

This is probably my most obscure Byler fic? But I enjoyed writing it and I liked exploring some different dynamics between Will and Mike. I plan to get back to this one soon.

Death Lies in Wait- (M, ongoing)- Massachusetts, 1890. Max Mayfield is twenty-six years old and at the hand of her parents, settles for a marriage of convenience to a widowed lighthouse keeper. A stranger she'll be trapped with for the rest of her life on a lonely strip of land surrounded by nothing but endless, lonely sea. But, as she settles into her life, and she and her new husband try to coexist, they get wrapped up in a mysterious presence on the cape. It calls to them. It's lulling and coaxing and sings to them at night. Max discovers the secrets her new husband keeps. Mermaids and ghosts of the past come to haunt them.

Madwheeler/Byler//Lumax Gothic AU- Mermaid Will.

Historic gothic au and arranged marriage trope along with sea nymph/ mermaid Will? Idk man, it’s just the type of fic I want to see in the world and I needed it. I can’t wait to get back to this one!

Touch Me Like You Know Me- (M, complete)- Mike doesn't go home anymore, not unless absolutely necessary. Instead, he stays far away from Hawkins, quietly shutting himself off from the world, and burying the pain of the things he never said to the boy he'd left behind. But when his mother convinces him to return home for his thirty-fifth birthday, Mike is finally forced to confront just how much he'd given up when he runs into Will by accident. Mike-centric. Estranged Byler reconnection fic. Soft and Sweet.

I forever be obsessed with Mike looking at Will in this one. The themes just make me emotional and I felt proud of it more so than any other fic I've written I think.

The Pact (M, ongoing)- A pact between Max and Mike gone wrong gets them both unanimously voted out of the Party and they find themselves stuck with each other the summer after Graduation: fighting, commiserating, and begrudgingly discovering they are a lot more alike than they originally thought.

What kind of started as a joke fic, has turned into one of my favorite things I've written. I really liked getting to explore Max in this as I had never written for her before and I just really, really dig the partycule vibes of it. This also was probably the fic I've had THE MOST fun as far as interacting with readers in the comments and everyone has truly made it something really special to me. <3 Especially you Lex!

*ACSoL is my like first child who I'll always include, but can't put it here this time. But delving into some of Will's darker issues in a post-canon setting is what got me so excited about this fandom in the first place and also made me realize Will is my favorite character.

Thank you so much! I'm gonna come drop this in your inbox now <3

#byler #fic recs #madwheeler #dear MOOT <333 #elumax #elmax #Top five

[deepwaterwritingprompts]

Blood. Where it comes from. Where it goes. Who gets it. Why it's important. What it does. Anything about blood.

time for another round of 'i have so many of these already', blood prompts collected (most of them), here u go:

A siren lived on the mountain. I saw her on a morning hike once, pruning her feathers, mouth caked in blood.

She always blamed the night shift. For her bloodshot eyes. The feathers on her floor. The scars that ran like fault lines across her back.

Death took his most bloodthirsty soldier out of commission. He placed him on earth, wiped of all memories, for rehabilitation. 

It felt wrong to call them vampires. They were dumb and fragile looking, their wings paper thin and delicate. They would drink blood from any living thing.

Something was killing nixies. I found one covered in duckweed and blue blood, and took it home to recover in my bathtub.

My blood heals anything and everything it touches. But with every drop, my heart grows colder, and no one knows what I’ll become when it runs out.

Blood Wine didn’t have anything to do with real blood. Well, not technically.

No one knew what would happen if you ate a blood berry, red and swollen. No one was brave enough to find out.

I was born with silver blood. No one knew what kind of creature that made me.

“Darken your lips with the blood of a loved one. This will allow you to enter the Court.”

Monster blood was great for human illness. The hospital did a roaring and very illegal trade in the basement.

The unicorns were made of stone, loud and unforgiving, stained with the blood of misfortune and sacrifice alike.

I met a half ghost on the midnight bus. An errand boy for death, he was shotgunning energy drinks, and cleaning blood out of his nails.

My family has magic in its veins. Plants watered with our blood come to cure any illness.

The well was full of blood. “That can’t be good,” said Uncle.

Spill a single drop of blood in the forest, and the tree roots will tear you to shreds, twisting and tangling as they scramble for their piece.

Rain Bringers slept a lot, when they weren’t harvesting clouds. Their eyes held no color, and their blood was barely red, so thin rumor said you could drink it and escape a thirsty death.

Our fight was already bloody, the scent of death heavy on the air as we fell into the freezing river together. Everything changed that day, under the ice.

We have six moons. To one, we offer opals, another, pearls. Three of them want nothing in particular, and the last asks for blood.

The potion is midnight blue, a consistency I know well. “Whose blood did you use?” I ask, as my throat grows uncomfortably hot.

Wherever my blood spills, a delicate black flower grows at once. I always eat it, which annoys mother, who would like to see them dried and pressed.

Blood Bags are stains upon the earth, rank and starving by nature, okay to exorcise on sight. But this one has a baby with it. A human one.

An alchemist comes to take my blood once a month. Red dye stains her hair, her tongue, red thread sewn into the lines of her face and hands.

A drop of my blood sizzles on the gold, until the smoke clears and reveals plain iron. “I am here to train,” I say, putting the knife away, “as an alchemist.”

The House of Red Glass sits behind a towering gate. They say your reflection talks to you in there, all distorted by the strange blood colored walls.

“If I’m the vampire, how come you’re the one always taking my blood?” I ask, a sad and desperate attempt to flirt with the medic.

The city has veins, strange red cords that run deep underground and pulse with ichorous blood. Something is drinking from them, and it is my unfortunate job to find out what.

His bathtub was covered in blood and feathers.

When I went to receive the results of my blood test, they told me they were classified.

#some of these date back to like 2017 #blood #blood tw #creative writing #writing prompts #list

[wellthebardsdead]

Unwilling Dreamer pt4

Part 3 here

———

Shamat: *wincing as the healers disinfect and dress the freshly opened wounds, pouting slightly as the head healer scolds him for being so careless* they wouldn’t keep opening if you’d just use magic. Why are you being so in- ow! *hisses pulling his leg back from one of the healers*

Head Healer: Magic may close the wounds, but the skin will lose its elasticity and be left with severe scarring. Nerevar is adamant we leave your skin as unblemished as possible.

Shamat: b-but I don’t care about scars, I’m in pain! D-doesn’t it matter what I want?…

Head Healer: *sighs unable to meet his gaze* I cannot go against lord Nerevars wishes. *watches as his underlings finish up* We will leave you to rest now. One of us shall return with your medicine this evening. Lord Nerevar should be with you again shortly to sate your ‘boredom’.

Shamat: wh-where did he go?… I know he fetched you and your underlings but- he looked so angry.

Head Healer: it’s not my place to question such things. Nor is it yours lord dagoth. I’m sure as you heal… you’ll see how things operate here under lord indorils rule.

*meanwhile*

Nerevar: *shoves the heads of shamats guards on spikes before the gathered mass of his ordinators and temple guards alike* Let this be my ONLY warning. If any harm comes to Voryn Dagoth on your watch. Death. If any of you sully his dignity, body, or name. Death. And if any of you feel brazen enough to cause him harm with your own hand. I will see to it that your foul murder will be conducted with my own blade. You’re dismissed. *turns and walks back up the temple steps, grabbing his lance from one of the trembling temple guards as he walks by*

The guards: *all whisper amongst themselves as they disperse, none of them noticing the hooded, masked figure lingering amongst them, watching nerevar ascend the steps, knowing full well of who he’s keeping prisoner behind the stone walls*

*that evening*

Shamat: *laying in his bed, robe lose and draped over his relaxed slender frame, clinging to the sweat glistening over his dark grey skin along with his dark ebony locks. His pupils blown out with another dose of his ‘medicine’, drugged, waiting, and helpless*

*creaking as the door opens*

Nerevar: *steps in and smiles fondly at him, admittedly beginning to find some sick pleasure in how the poison makes his sweet voryn so very relaxed, and almost tempted to continue feeding it to him if it weren’t for the long term health defects it could cause him* comfy?…

Shamat: *glances over at him, only managing a weak, soft moan from his lips* mnn…

Nerevar: *hums in response as he walks to the bed, removing his armour as he approaches and sits beside him* I love seeing you so relaxed… *gently strokes his face as he sighs* I’m sorry I’ve neglected you so. I never realised how boring it must be, all alone without me.

Shamat: *leans into his touch, every sensation against his skin feeling hot and sending tingles down his spine. Too far gone into his high to even register what nerevar is saying to him* mmm…

Nerevar: *smirks ever so slightly, seeing his beautiful dreamers face behind the grey skin and red eyes, hearing his voice so softly hum and moan to him, feeling like he’s so close to being where he needs him to be* it won’t be long now… *leans down* just a little stronger, that’s all I need you to be… then I can bring you back to your former glory… *presses his lips to his earning a soft, surprised whine from shamats lips, the dunmer too dazed to understand what’s fully happening, and unable to stop it even if he tried*

*a few months later*

Shamat: *still healing ever so slowly but far more able bodied at last. Dressed in the heavy robes of house dagoth, now seated at the table by his bed on the verge of tears as he tries to read the scriptures nerevar assigned him to practice* Gods h-he’s going to be so mad if I don’t get this- he said I wrote this? When? When I was v-Voryn? But he says I’m- I can’t- *sighs moving to rub his face before pausing remembering face markings he had to sit hours through having applied, along with the kohl around his eyes* ughh… *grabs his ears and winces forgetting about the still fresh piercings where two gold loops hang framing his face above the heavy gold collar around his neck and collarbone* fuck… if this is what Voryn liked to wear I don’t think I’m cut out to be him… *sighs and lays his arms on the table, resting his head in them and closing his eyes, just for a moment*

“He’s broken… he wants to break you too…”

Shamat: *jolts awake and looks up to see himself seated across from him, golden skin, red eyes, himself but not truely him, Voryn* I-it’s you! Me? I… he wants- to break me?…

Voryn: he went mad searching for me… us… so desperate to bring me back he’ll stop at nothing to achieve it. Whether you like it or not…

Shamat: I? I should be happy about that though right? He’s- he’s harsh but he has a hard job! And he still finds time to care about me he… he says he cares about me.

Voryn: at what point does care become obsession?… Do you truely feel he cares about us?…

Shamat: I… I think he does… I’ve spent so long on the streets, with nothing, being hurt by everyone, used over and over again but he… he gave me a home, a bed, I can eat as much as I want, I don’t have to beg to survive anymore and-

Voryn: You’re not allowed to leave this room are you?… how long have you been in here?… when was the last time you saw the sun?…

Shamat: I’m… im healing. He’s keeping me safe in here. It can be lonely but he keeps me company, hes teaching me to read-

Voryn: and loses patience when you don’t meet the standards he holds you to.

Shamat: he doesn’t lose patience I’m just not as good as-

Voryn: me.

“Voryn? My dreamer?”

Shamat: *jolts awake and nearly falls out of his chair seeing nerevar standing before him with a soft, gentle smile* M-my moon and star I- what time is it? I was-

Nerevar: *chuckles wiping a bit of ink off of his face* It’s nearing supper time, you must’ve been tired after lunch I take it?

Shamat: *blushes leaning into his touch a little* I- I must have been, I was trying to read and then- you woke me up.

Nerevar: *nods and tilts his head remembering fondly how often he’d find voryn passed out at his desk* you used to do that often… well, no matter. *reaches into his bag pulling out a dark cloth* I have some great news. *pulls the cloth back revealing a golden mask, with 3 eyes* it’s time.

#Shamat the sharmat #nerevar #Skyrim #Shamat dragonborn #voryn dagoth

[soaricarus]

if you dont mind me asking, what are your hcs for ascension and similar? is it like what happens in survivor's campaign or a bit different?

ascension is... certainly a topic. i'm not even sure if this will be coherent, but it is heavily based on headcanons.

i'll start with void fluid actually. i think it's cold, extremely cold, but so cold it feels like it's burning. you can survive a void fluid injury, but it will never heal and is a permanent scar that will keep hurting. you can try bioengineering to heal it, but it'll keep reverting to what it was like before. you can't get rid of void fluid scars.

ascension, though.. i think it's just- you exist in the void for a while and then disappear after you ascend, unless you get echoed. it removes you from the cycle of reincarnation, unless you somehow bruteforce yourself back out of the void within the time you have in the void before disappearing (when you don't get echoed) - which will, obviously have side effects. as such being, partially echoed. if you bleed, it's a tauntingly beautiful gold - reminding you of how you forced your own way out of ascension. you will have a large golden scar from your first point of contact with the void fluid too, and you'll seem familiar but not, to anyone or anything that may have known you. think uncanny valley. something isn't quite right. as for what happens in survivor's campaign? i think that's specific to slugcats, at least what we see in-game. ancients have their own- void shenanigans that happen, void knows what that is, i'll figure it out later.

also you're giving me a chance to go on about echoes so i think i'll take that

echoed happen when the person ascending is too attached to something- be it a place, object, or pet, or someone, such as a family member, close friend or iterator.

echoes also have a 'scar' from their first point of contact with void fluid, and a symbol somewhere on them which relates to them - for example, my oc stars has five diamonds on their forehead, which when put together, forms a star.

certain echoes are also different depending on why they couldn't ascend! this will also include karma headcanons that deviate a bit from canon.

ancients that couldn't ascend due to karma 1 (violence/wrath) have a reddish-copper tint to their golden patterns, and often their void fluid contact scar looks bloody and violent. they also retain scars, which share a color with their void fluid contact scar - simply a bit darker. they also appear a bit spikier and generally have sharper angles in their patterns. they have long and extremely thin tendrils.

ancients that couldn't ascend due to karma 2 (lust/love/romantic feelings/relationships) have a purplish-magenta tint to their golden patterns, and their void fluid contact scar is more rounded, generally - sometimes even based on their loved one (and sometimes loved ones, if both got echoed, shared a scar of the same shape!). their golden scales seem more feathery than scaley, and their golden patterns look more like the patterns you'd see on vitiligo cats. the length and width of their tendrils is pretty inconsistent, sometimes theyre wider in the middle, sometimes at the tips - and every tendril is different.

ancients that couldn't ascend due to karma 3 (friends/attachment/connection with others such as platonic relationships/etc) have a slightly blue, sometimes jade tint to their golden patterns. their void fluid contact scar often resembles an abstract pattern of something the person they were the closest to liked, or a symbol alike the symbol person they were close with would've had if they were an echo (unlike karma 2 they wouldn't share an exact shape, however). their golden patterns seem more speckled and abstract, and the shapes vary. their tendrils start rather average, then thin out and then get rather wide and sharpened or rounded at the tips.

ancients that couldn't ascend due to karma 4 (greed/ego/pompousness/etc) have a bright orange tint to their golden patterns. their void fluid contact scar resembles some odd valuable object they were attached to, with the odd cracks in it or around it - or an abstraction of their mask. their golden patterns generally resemble the shapes of cracked minerals. their tendrils would be mostly patterned with gold and rather wide in general.

ancients that couldn't ascend due to karma 5 (preservation of the self/keeping oneself alive/surviving/the want to live and not leave the world/etc) have an almost iridescent sheen to their golden patterns. their void fluid scar can resemble about anything- mostly a shape that's related to them, or something that was important to them in life. their golden patterns vary so much, there's not really a "regular" shape for them, but each pattern is unique and consistent of it's own shape. their tendrils start wide and thin out and their length varies- usually there's some short ones mixed in with longer ones.

there's also other reasons one cant ascend, such as just attachment to the world itself and any other reason that isn't just tied to the karmic urges.

these can all also be mixed with eachother. you can be echoed because you're tied to the fifth and third karmic urges!

echoes also have their own unique form- they usually resemble what you were before you ascended, and depending on how much attachment you have to the world through karmic urges and whatnot, you can appear less like an echo or more like an echo. i think the examples i can give are stars and pearls!

stars is uh, very complicated. they're a mortal echo, attached to the vessel of a slugcat that they were transferred to from being an ancient, but uh oh void fluid fuckup and they got like. sort of partially echoed halfway through the process? so while they are the slugcat, they're also the echo, and the two beings kinda. merged, making a mortal echo. they have some void fluid fuckery going on in their body, and the more the die the more echo-y they appear. that drawing in specific is full echo stars (or is it? :]), where they definently appear like an echo.

pearls appears much less like an echo, just barely having a few echo spots on them, mostly the extremities. this is because they are quite literally, attached to the world itself as a whole. child-like wonder and everything. they're fascinated by the world and how it changes. they do uh, not exactly have an echo symbol on them, but i do need to fix up their design and give them one at some point. they are so attached to the world that they're a physical echo, and not just a ghost echo. they still need to eat, drink, sleep - everything an organic body needs to do to stay alive.

i'd go more into detail but this post is long enough i thin

#words on the wind #rain world #[asks] #[ancients] #[hc rambles] #[echoes] #[ascension] #rw ancients #ill tag that i think #long post

[mymoonagedaydream]

Part 2

Pairing: Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Language

Author’s Note: This was intended to be a one-part story but the lovely response it got on AO3 has prompted me to make it a series. I now have a ten-page word document of plot in bullet points to get through so, enjoy!

Am I writing two series simultaneously? Yes. Has this ever worked out for me in the past? No.

Part 1

---

You stood in front of the mirror, squinting at the small, circular scar that sat a few inches left of your belly button. It had healed remarkably well in the few weeks you’d been home. You tilted your head slightly, musing that if it weren’t for the weird, lightning-esque burn marks that sprouted from it in every direction, you probably would’ve been able to pass it off as a birthmark. You just shrugged at your reflection, turned and hopped in the shower.

Readjusting to normal life had been difficult, the hardest part being figuring out exactly what ‘normal’ meant now. The city was still littered with various memorials and floral tributes, some fresh, some neglected; any noise louder than a car horn made every pedestrian in the street flinch and shake with terror; new charities for people who’d lost homes and businesses were canvassing on the streets constantly while tabloid journalists spent their days trying desperately to weed out and expose the numerous scammers amongst them. 

Thankfully, though, the biggest inconvenience you’d experienced so far was the messed up subway timetables due to various tunnels caving in. Despite your injury, you felt like you’d gotten away lightly- missing the immediate aftermath was a blessing that not many in the city were afforded.

Unfortunately, your good luck stopped there. You’d barely heard from Bucky at all and you hadn’t seen him in person since he dropped you off at your place all those weeks ago. It was understandable, the whole fucking world was now obsessed with “The Avengers” and he was caught up in the eye of that storm, but you couldn’t help feeling a bit like you’d been abandoned. After everything the two of you had been through, it was really hurtful that he’d stayed away for so long.

After making yourself presentable and pulling on your work uniform, you left your apartment, giving a wide berth to the bulldozer working on one of the many potholes in the sidewalk. You wandered onto the subway and managed to find a seat opposite two well-groomed guys in suits, both reading from the same newspaper. They definitely weren’t siblings, they looked nothing alike, but were they a couple? You stared for a few seconds. Their thighs were touching, but that was nothing remarkable on the cramped subway cars, especially now there were half as many services as usual. Both were wearing wedding bands, but they were different colours. This was a tough one.

You smiled to yourself, remembering how god-awful Bucky was at this game. Even after hours of playing it at the window he’d never guess right. One time you saw what was very clearly an elderly mother with her son, probably heading to some kind of special family function judging by their outfits, and he outright refused to accept that they weren’t a couple. None of your watertight evidence could sway him. You pulled a muscle in your stomach laughing, he just muttered something under his breath about how age wasn’t everything in a relationship.

You shook off the daydream and lazily wandered your gaze down to the front page of the newspaper. An audible gasp escaped your lips when you read the headline, drawing the attention of the few commuters in the car without headphones. It read:

Earth’s Mightiest Heroes?

“Avengers” injured in botched overseas operation

Without thinking you leant forward and snatched the paper, rapidly flicking through the pages to find the full article. There was no real information in there, which you should have anticipated- they’d obviously just received a leak comprised of a single sentence and milked it for every dime it was worth. One word did catch your attention, however. Stark. If he had any information on Bucky then, so help you god, you’d get it out of him.

---

Standing in front of Stark Tower, the righteous confidence you’d felt so strongly on that subway car was starting to waver a little. The confrontation had gone remarkably well in your head but now you were starting to realise how stupidly fucking naive it was to think you’d even get an audience with the guy who owns this place. He probably wasn't even in.

You took a deep breath and pushed open the door, doing your very best to look nonchalant in front of the armed security guards while hurrying over to the front desk. The receptionist was staring at his monitor and typing furiously. You cleared your throat, but he didn’t look up. Looking around, you noticed an old-fashioned call bell sitting on the counter- probably an ironic gift from a colleague, maybe for secret Santa. You hit it. He winced and threw out his hand to silence it.

‘How can I help?’

‘I need to talk to Tony Stark.’

He laughed. 'Do you have an appointment?'

'No, but it's urgent.' An unconvinced eyebrow was raised in your direction. ‘It’s about James Barnes.’

‘What about him?’

‘I know him.’

‘So does the rest of the world, sweetie.’

You rubbed your forehead, trying to collect your thoughts. ‘Look, I was with him after the attack, I got hurt and he helped. I’m his friend. Can you tell Stark that, please? I need to know if he’s alright.’

You could feel tears welling in your eyes as you spoke. The receptionist conceded, picking up the phone and waving you over to the seating area, probably figuring it’d be easier to get rid of you with a firm no from up high. He waited in silence for a minute or so before speaking into the receiver in a tone too hushed for you to hear. He frowned, gave you a very confused glance, and whispered again. Then he hung up.

‘Well, looks like it’s your lucky day,’ he gestured towards the elevator, ‘top floor.’

You had no idea how the hell you pulled that off. You strolled over, hit the button and turned to watch the display beside the doors tick slowly upwards. It was only two floors from the top when you suddenly realised that your whole planned confrontation had completely melted out of your head.

There was a loud ding as the doors slid open and you shuffled forwards, finding yourself in an incredibly extravagant penthouse with a view of the whole city. A stern-looking man with an angular beard and dark glasses approached you, not lifting his gaze from the phone he was tapping at hurriedly. As he got closer you noticed a few small cuts and bruises littered across his face.

‘Tell me what you told the guy behind the desk.’

He still wasn’t looking up, his abrupt questioning catching you off guard. You scrambled for a second and he clicked his fingers impatiently.

‘I’m a friend of James, I want to know if he’s alright.’

‘Wrong. Tell me what you said.’

‘I dont-’ you could feel your face starting to heat up, ‘I just- I’m confused.’

‘It’s a simple question.’

‘I don’t remember.’

He was obviously irritated, sighing as he dropped his hands and met your gaze for the first time. ‘You’re the one who got shot, right?’

You nodded, too intimidated to do much else.

‘Show me.’ He gestured towards your stomach, noting your trepidation as he did so. ‘Look, I need proof that you are who you say you are if we're going to continue this conversation.’

You nodded again, grabbing a fistful of your shirt and hesitantly lifting it to reveal the eerie-looking scar.

‘Gross,’ he gestured for you to cover up, ‘alright.’

Turning on his heels, he stormed across the floor towards a circular seating area. You guessed that you were supposed to follow him. The shiny floor squeaked under your cheap shoes, your cheeks flushing when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the huge windows and remembered that you were still wearing your barista uniform. Stark waved you into a seat.

‘Alright, so your boyfriend is in Siberia, he-’

‘Siberia?’

‘Yes. He was doing some recon when we lost him, we thought-’

‘Lost him?’

‘Can you not talk unless you have something useful to add, please?’ You smiled apologetically. ‘Thank you. Basically, what we thought was a small, residual Hydra cell turned out to be a big operation and we were outnumbered. Some of us were injured, but there was a party we lost track of. Bucky’s party. He’s probably fine, we just don’t know-’

Stark clocked the confusion on your scrunched-up face. He sighed loudly, using one hand to brace himself against the table while the other moved to lift up his glasses and aggressively rub his eyes.

‘Go on.’

‘...Hydra?’

‘Jesus Christ.’ He collapsed into the seat behind him. ‘Y’know what, it doesn’t even matter. All you need to know is that he’s probably fine but, if he's been captured, it could be very bad. We think it would be a good idea for someone he’s close with to be nearby, just in case.’

‘In case what?’

He shot you a warning look but this time you didn’t back down. Your heart was in your throat, you were getting desperate for answers.

‘Look, I don’t have much time, I just came back here to scramble some more manpower and tech. I’m leaving in a few hours, are you coming or not?’

‘To Siberia?’

‘No, to Disney World. Are you sure you didn’t get shot in the brain?’

---

Part 3

---

#bucky #buckybarnes #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky fanfiction #buckyfanfic #buckyfic #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #buckybarnes x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #buckybarnesxyou #buckybarnes x you #bucky barnes x you #buckybarnesxreader #buckybarnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fluff #buckyfluff #bucky barnes fluff #buckybarnesfluff #marvel #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic

[anemoi-i]

The Palm of a Scarred Hand.

Diluven | 2.8k | Rated T | No reposts.

Barbatos is missing after the theft of his Gnosis and Diluc as well as Jean are determined to make sure he is safe. Told in several parts.

If you like my work, consider becoming a member.

Credits: Title Banner: Me. | Divider Credit

The sound of a plate breaking awakes Diluc from his slumber.

In his room, a Wind Being lifts an apple with it’s little wings and feet and tries to steal it. It’s comical. The apple is bigger than the sprite, so it struggles to remain flying. Diluc gets out of his bed and walks over to the table as to announce his arrival and the sprite, now startled, drops the apple next to the broken pieces of the plate and attempts to flee. He’d think he’s dreaming, but he knows Wind Beings are very much real and exist around the whole of Mondstadt—why this one is here in his bedroom of all places perplexes him.

Diluc notices that the creature is weakened and injured. In an attempt to flee, it ends up falling next to the apple. It must have been trying to take the fruit to a safe, hidden place to eat it to gather strength. There was only one thing to do. He helps the sprite sit upright against a glass and takes a small knife next to the other fruits and cuts the apple into much more manageable pieces for the Wind Being.

He hands a piece to the sprite.

“Here.”

The sprite responded by looking at him curiously, shocked by the kind gesture.

“Go on. You’re hungry, yes?”

Having gained its trust, Diluc watches as the Wind Being eats the apple quickly. He would continue to feed it until the apple was finished. It worked wonders, for vitality returned to it, bringing a smile to Diluc’s face. He got along better with creatures of all kinds, elemental ones included.

The Wind Being nudges his cheek happily.

Perhaps he is not as cold and unapproachable as everyone thinks.

From then on, the Wind Being follows him. On his nightly patrol as the Darknight Hero, the Being manifests Anemo and swirls his Pyro to deliver devastating blows to members of the Abyss Order and Fatui alike. When he is injured, the Being can heal him. He doesn’t know why a simple gesture like feeding it can cause such a profound friendship, but he isn’t complaining and it isn’t the weirdest thing that has happened to him.

When he is at Angel’s Share, the patrons notice his new friend and whisper about it. The Wind Being is an Elemental often very elusive, only choosing to manifest before a select few. Why Diluc, a person who many have often wrongfully said was cold and unapproachable did this Wind Being find comfort with confuses him, but it wasn’t unwelcome.

In turn, Diluc became protective of it. He did not allow just anyone to attempt the touch the Wind Being. He even made a small bed for it for comfort and left cut up apples next to it in the morning. It seemed to like apples above any other fruit and there would be no shortage of that in any coming day.

Lately, Diluc noticed that his life became a bit easier. He was offered things he could only call blessings. His work became less. He felt comfort every time the Wind Being would nudge him awake the next morning and follow him wherever he would go.

He felt protected. How nice it is to feel such a thing he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Diluc leaned against the side of Jean’s desk and crossed his arms.

“You have concerns, or else you wouldn’t have begged me to come.”

“I—Yes. And thank you for coming, by the way,” Jean responded. “I know how much you’d rather not be here.”

Jean looked tired and worse for wear. Shaken and stirred. Diluc could see the bags under her eyes but worst of all, he could see the sadness in her eyes. It did not fit a woman of her status. Jean was the kind of woman who smiled even through pain. Her selflessness could be her enemy, but it did not make her weak. It was one of the reasons why Diluc still respected her to this day despite his eternal malice towards the Ordo Favonius.

He also shares in her sadness. Neither of them wanted to admit or speak about it, but it was necessary to formulate a plan.

“…You truly have not seen Lord Barbatos, Diluc?”

Sighing, Diluc rubbed his temples. The headache was oncoming.

“The last to see him was the Honorary Knight and myself, but the Honorary Knight left for Liyue shortly after their conversation and would not know anything,” He began to explain. “He came to Angel’s Share that very same day for his usual and after that, he has not been seen since. I can’t even use my Network to even locate him because he is our Archon. My members will get suspicious and I will not dishonor his wish to remain anonymous.”

Anger begins to show on his face.

“If it wasn’t for those fucking Fatui, he would still be present in Mondstadt! How could I have let this happen despite having eyes and ears all over the damned city!”

“It is not your fault,” Jean scolded him. “Those Fatui are evil. I should have thrown them all out. But even if I did, would it still have been enough to prevent the theft of his Gnosis…?”

“Anything that thwarts the Fatui is valiant in itself. Still, you should not take the blame either. You are the face of the Ordo Favonius and the reason why I tolerate it at best. You do good work. If you attempted hostility like I do, there would surely be consequences to you.”

Jean briefly smiled. It felt good to hear such kind words coming from Diluc. Her eyes catch the Wind Being that has been sleeping soundly on his shoulder.

“So, what’s the story behind the Wind Being?”

“I found it in a weakened state trying to take an apple, so I fed it. It is… a friend.”

“You know,” Jean’s eyes lit up, as if remembering something important. “It’s said Wind Beings are manifestations of Barbatos’ will. They give blessings to all and protect those who need it.”

“Is that so?” He looked at the sleeping creature. “That is useful.”

“I’m sure it is. Do not worry, we will find Lord Barbatos.”

Diluc prepares his leave, but not before turning back to her.

“Get some damn sleep, you’re making me tired just by looking at you.”

She laughed and saw him off.

Their mutual understanding was simple: they would bring Barbatos home safely.

Diluc pokes the Wind Being softly as it waddles about on the table. It makes a sound as if laughing and he can’t help but to chuckle himself—but the amusement fades as quickly as it came. He cannot stop thinking about the current situation. Sighing, he finally says what is on his mind.

“If you’re a manifestation of Barbatos’ will, does that mean he is alright? And that he is not angry? I hope he is not injured somewhere, unable to call for help.”

The Wind Being tilts it’s head and begins to fly, nudging Diluc’s cheek to comfort him.

“It’s alright. I’m not upset. Just worried. It is different without him. The patrons miss his songs. I… I miss his songs. I did not realize his personality rubbed off on me until he was gone.”

He was talking to an Elemental Being of all things. How far gone was he?

“Knowing that our Archon was living amongst us and protecting the land all of this time, only to be attacked where he should have felt safe… It is just pathetic of us to have let that happened.”

The Wind Being showed sadness. It’s sounds were melancholy. Of course it would be able to understand.

Diluc extends his hands and it lands in his palms.

“I’m alright. Don’t worry. It’s time to rest now.”

This gentle creature found safety with Diluc and immediately fell asleep in the palms of his hands. From years of fighting, they were scarred, but the Wind Being didn’t care. His hands were soft and Diluc a trustworthy person.

All he could do is gently move to his bedroom and place the creature on it’s bed and try to get some sleep himself.

It’s the midnight hours when the Wind Being awakes Diluc. This happened normally, but this time, the Being flies frantically in front of him anxiously until it’s certain he is awake. Eyes groggy, he gets up from the bed.

“What is the matter?”

The Wind Being flies towards a map of Mondstadt hanging up on his wall and manifests a harmless ball of Anemo and directs it towards a specific part of the nation. When Diluc gets up to inspect, there’s a marking next to Windrise.

“…You wish to go to Windrise? So late?”

The Wind Being cooed happily.

But why?

Dressing quickly, he leaves Dawn Winery and makes his way to Windrise. He didn’t worry about it being late for he’s been out later defending Mondstadt as the Darknight Hero. While he can understand why such an important location would be a necessary destination for an Elemental Being, it makes little sense why the creature wakes him up so suddenly to go. Thinking about it too hard will only form more questions.

Vennessa’s great tree is within a moment’s reach and the coming of dawn along with it. Diluc quickens his pace aside the Wind Being until he is face to face with the Statue of Barbatos. He feels an ache upon seeing it.

The Wind Being nudges his cheek once more as if knowing before approaching the statue.

It begins to glow teal, with thick strands of Anemo coming from the depiction of Barbatos and the orb he held. The ribbons of Anemo surrounded and engulfed the creature in the light. In awe, Diluc’s eyes widened. He knew there was nothing he could do, yet this display of power only lasted a few seconds before everything became still.

The Wind Being was gone, but there was someone else there, ascending slowly to the ground.

Barbatos turned around once his feet touched the grass and looked at Diluc anxiously.

“D…Diluc.”

Diluc didn’t care about the details. He pulled Barbatos into a protective, tight hold.

“You’re alright. You’re alright.”

“I was scared. I’m sorry.”

“You’ve nothing to apologize or worry about. You had every right to be scared. Above all else, we should have protected you.”

Barbatos shook his head. “It feels awful to need protection as a God.”

“Whether God or human, you are not exempt from protection.”

“But…”

Diluc held him even tighter, hands gripping his shirt. He didn’t want to let Barbatos go, and Barbatos felt quite content to stay within the warmth of his hug.

“There are no buts,” Diluc whispered. “Let us protect you, the same way you’ve done for us and the whole of Mondstadt.”

“Thank you. I knew that I could trust you.”

Reluctantly, Diluc lets him free from the hug. He doesn’t quite understand the reasons, but he didn’t have to. Barbatos was safe and unharmed.

“I owe you and Jean an explanation. Please take me to the Ordo Favonius.”

♡

Usually, Jean is professional. Poised—but that all gets thrown out of the window once Barbatos walks into her office. She rises from her chair and gives Barbatost the same treatment Diluc did. She hugs him tightly.

“Barbatos—ah, Venti—I’m—We’re so glad you’re alright! Goodness, Diluc is a miracle worker to have found you!”

“More like, he found me,” Diluc interjected.

“Oh?”

“Yes,” Barbatos nodded. “I am here to explain.”

This was going to be a long while, so Jean and Diluc got comfortable with extra chairs while Barbatos sat on the desk.

“You know that my Gnosis was stolen by the Eighth Harbinger and that I talked to the Traveler before they left for Liyue. By the way, no fault belongs to anyone except myself, so I won’t have any of you thinking that. Anyway, after that happened, I stayed at Windrise a long time. No matter how much I tried to compose myself, I felt fear… So I reverted myself back to that of a Wind Being.

“Wind Beings are Threads of a Thousand Winds and it is my original form before I ascended to be the Anemo Archon after the fall of Decarabian. That’s common knowledge, I think? At any time, I can do this. It’s why I’m able to keep anonymity and give blessings to let Mondstadt know that I’m still around, but I don’t wish to rule over Mondstadters.

“However, I may have exhausted too much. It’s been a while since I reverted back to a Thread of a Thousand Winds. I forgot certain things—I wasn’t at my best mental or physical strength, so I couldn’t return to being “Venti” as quickly as I wanted. That’s when I made my way to Dawn Winery. I only needed an apple or two for my little form to gain some strength to go back to Windrise and shift back. Diluc found me after I dropped the apple and cared for me.

“As a Thread of a Thousand Winds, I cannot speak human languages easily, but I’m still very sentient and can understand what everyone is saying. Knowing how much I was cared for by the both of you makes this old Archon very happy. To be honest… Perhaps I could have shifted back at any time, but I was scared. Still, I know now there is nothing to be scared of because I have such wonderful warriors at my side and willing to protect me, even if I have some reservations about that.”

Barbatos took a deep breath after he explained everything. He didn’t speak, allowing Jean and Diluc to absorb the information given to them. It was after a moment Jean spoke.

“Does the loss of your Gnosis weaken you? Do you need me to do anything for you to ensure your safety?”

“…I can’t explain the complete nature of the Gnosis. No Archon can. Even when the Traveler asked, I was only able to tell them what we’re allowed to share. Please understand. If you’re concerned whether or not I can still protect Mondstadt, then rest assured. I am still the Anemo Archon with or without it. I will be fine.”

“I understand.”

Contempt showed on Diluc’s face.

“I just cannot shake the anger knowing the Fatui did such a cruel deed.”

“Don’t worry yourself,” Barbatos smiled. “They are tricky, those Fatui, but they are like children being instructed to perform nefarious tasks by the parent. I will not give rise to their schemes and neither should you. It is the best decision.”

It was what Barbatos wanted and Diluc would honor that.

Barbatos jumps down from the desk and stretches his arms.

“Alright! That’s enough gloom-and-doom. Conversations like this get me all dreary. I’ll need at least three bottles of Dandelion Wine to make up for it!”

At least he is his normal self.

Diluc can accept that.

“Jean, please get some rest,” Barbatos instructed her. “I barely see any other members of the Ordo Favonius here. Even Lisa has went home. You deserve it.”

Knowing Barbatos was safe did put her at ease. She could get some much needed rest. Diluc and Barbatos would wait for her as she got her necessities and left with them. After she was dropped off home, it was just the two of them walking towards Angel’s Share. Diluc had one too many days off and felt bad for Charles, so he offered him the week off while he took care of everything.

Barbatos took Diluc’s hand and held it as they walked slowly.

“You… You like my songs.”

“So, you remember that.”

“Of course,” Barbatos flushed. “I like seeing this side of you. You’re sweet underneath. I have always known, but it is nice to see.”

“Ah…” Diluc shifted his eyes awkwardly. “Well…”

Cute.

Barbatos squeezed his hand.

“You know that I am right. But… I’m serious. You and Jean made me realize that I’m not forgotten.”

“I don’t want you to be forgotten. You’ve done so much.”

Angel’s Share was within their vision.

“I like you very much, Diluc. I should like to stay at your side. Is… Is that okay?”

How direct he is.

“It would be an honor.”

For good measure, Diluc raised his hand to his lips and kissed it. Barbatos giggled.

Diluc didn’t want to let his hand go but would rather not have the patrons of the tavern gossip about it. That, and he knew Barbatos desired to sing.

It would be just as normal. He being behind the bar, dealing with everyone’s antics and Barbatos singing and playing his lyre, just as it should be. These feelings that surfaced were ones that he’d have to come to understand.

They only grew to be more pleasant once Barbatos’ soft voice filled his ears.

#my fics #krisposting #genshin impact #venti #diluc #diluven #venluc

[secretkittywolf]

High Life

chapter 9

Cleo's eyes widen as Gem fired the gun. It seemed unlike her. Was it her motive? Cleo couldn't bare to look where the bullet had landed. No death message appeared so no one died. They decided to risk of and look. The bullet had barely missed a scared Lizzie. "What the fuck?! Who fired the gun?" She looked away before Lizzie could point blame. "Gem..." "Drat. I missed" she muttered, placing the gun back into her inventory. Cleo didn't know what to say. This was supposed to be a nice moment between the two and it ended up with Lizzie nearly dying. They watch as Gem begins to eat her food and they decide to eat there's too. 'Was this a motive kill? Or was it for some other reason? Revenge?' These questions and many more alike flood Cleo's head as she finished off her salmon. It was so strange and out of the blue, they couldn't make any sense of it. "I assume you have questions right?" Cleo looked up at Gem, but the faun continued to stare at her plate. "Yes?" Cleo said hesitantly. "A motive kill that failed" That's all Cleo needed to hear and they understood. Nothing more was said for the rest of the date and Gem left without a word. She felt bad for ruining the date but it was her motive after all.

"You suspect something's up with Lizzie. You can't quite place your finger on it, but if you do some digging, you may find out.

Your motive? Take out Lizzie once her plans have been found out"

Gem already knew what Lizzie's plans were. She found out accidentally when the fae blurted it all out loud. And for a while Gem has been following her, waiting for the right moment to kill.

Froglights blinded Scar's eyes. He quickly shuts them and waits for them to adjust before reopening them. He states at the ceiling before sitting up. Scar sees he's in a hospital room and decided to get up, but the pain in his leg said no so he remained put. Scar tried to remember what happened and, as if on queue, he remembered running from Doc with Bdubs and Jimmy ready to knock him out. "You're awake" He turns to the voice and sees Grian walking up to him. "Well hello there" "You feeling okay?" He asks. "I'm fine my good man! Minus the pain in my leg" He looks down at his legs. "Yes well you did get shot you in the leg, Scar. You'll have to be bedridden for a while" "I've dealt with Tim" Grian continued. "I gave him a good tongue lashing- there's got to be a better phrase than that" he muttered, but Scar heard. "Knocking you out was a bad decision since it could've killed you, and since we only have one life" "I would be out" Grian nodded. "How long has it been?" Scar asks.

"Uh.... A day? It's been 4 days since the game started-" "4 days?! It feels like a week!" "I know but it has been exactly 4 days, Scar" "And all that has happened?" "All occurred in the first 3 days" Scar laid back, sort of shocked. So much has already happened and it's only been 4 days? What will happen today?

Doc opens the door to his penthouse and lets in an upset Scott. "Have a seat. I'll get some drinks and some snacks" Scott nodded and sits down on the black leather couch. He still couldn't believe what he saw. Skizz was cheating on him. "Hey" He looks up to see a plate of sliced apples, some cookies and cake as well as some pumpkin pie. "Thought I'd bring a variety" he sets the plates down and places down two glasses of healing. Doc sits down next to him as Scott grabs a cookie. Doc uses his non metal hand to brush a strand of hair out of Scott's eyes as the smaller male turns to him. He had to admit: Scott was cute. Not his type though but he didn't need to know that. "You know I can help you" "How?" Scott asks before drinking the potion. "I can help you get your revenge. There's no doubt that anger is building up inside you and I can help you with that. As long as you do me a favour" Scott's interest was piqued. "Oh? Do tell" "Be my boyfriend" Scott began to choke, taken aback by the favour. He felt his back being patted after choking on his drink. "Boyfriend?" He wheezed out. He clears his throat. "You want to date me?" "Yes. You and I date and I'll protect you from any killings and help you get revenge and you also help me out with some killings too"

Scott was definitely surprised. He barely knows Doc and the goat hybrid was offering him a chance to not only be protected but also loved. Scott did want to be loved. "Okay... I'll do it" Doc grinned. His plan was working perfectly. Doc lifts Scott's chin up and kisses him. Scott kisses back. He's still shocked by the out of the blue request but he can't deny it: Doc was attractive. They pulled apart and Doc gave him a kind smile making Scott feel comfortable. He snuggled up close to the larger man and finished off his cookie before drifting off to sleep. Once he was asleep, Doc carried him to his room and Etho climbed through the window. "Did it work?" Doc nods, closing the suite door. "He fell for it hook, line and sinker" Etho chuckles and grabs a slice of cake. "With Scott on our side, we can easily turn the tide to our favour. Not only taking Ren and Bdubs out, but also Skizz, Jimmy and Tango"

/////////

A bit shorter but I hope you enjoyed it! I'm sorry it took a while again. I've been rather busy lately and have been watching waaaay too much Hermitcraft since now I'm watching 6 povs: Grain, Mumbo, Scar, Zedaph, Joel & Gem since I quite liked her builds and began watching her yesterday. I'm gonna try to keep adding more to this a bit more regularly but no promises tho. Also the Scar and Grian part happens before the Mumbo and Scar part in chapter 8 before anyone gets confused.

#trafficblr #3rd life #double life #life series #last life #limited life #secret life #high life #zombiecleo #geminitay #lizzie ldshadowlady #ldshadowlady #you are not immune to the goodtimes #mr goodtimes #goodtimeswithscar #grian minecraft #grian #docm77 #dangthatsalongname #scott smajor

[static-sulker]

The Explosion (Science Party)

Hi again! I have another headcanon that I think i've mentioned before about Dell's scar. Yes, the engineer must have dozens of scars throughout their body, but its specifically the staple of my Engie design, which is the eye scarage

This scar is apart of a whole situation that i've thought about for the past couple days- so uh yippie

also TW violence and semi gore? but it's pretty soft

Medic hadn't been with Engie at the time, but damn did he obsess over that Engineer.

It was just a silly crush sure, but Medic would spend hours at night just THINKING about him. His crystalized blue pupils, His intelligence, and his natural beauty that brought Medic to his knees.

Anybody with the right brain would keep eyes on him, especially in combat. It was the job for a Medic to help his team of course!

He was busy staring at the engineers attacks, basically swooning over his friend, before a semi-mangled scout crawled towards the doctor.

"Doc... please heal me..." He looked to have several broken bones and a series of arrows plunged into his back.

The Medic took one last look at Engie, and began to heal the scout begrudgingly.

"Such a baby..." he muttered, causing Scout to spout out a series of insults at the man who currently held his very own life in his red gloves.

"Oh, beruhige dich, kleiner Späher." He chuckled, taking out one of the arrows from his back rather harshly.

after a minute or two, the scout was good as new. "Thanks Medic!" He called, already dashing back into the heat of battle.

Medic nodded, and turned back to where he was holding post.

Engie was gone? That was strange, Engie wasn't one to move that fast so quickly.

He stepped down from the balcony-like platform he took post at to recover from his past injuries down to where the Engineer had been placing his series of machinery and dispensers.

Faintly, in a nearby building, there was the sound of heavy machinery and yelling of a familiar texan man. Medic followed the sound, through a hallway.

Around a corner he could hear the familiar tone of bullets hitting walls and people alike, and the ear-piercing screech of explosions. He carefully stood at the corner, peering over the wall to see the events of a bloody and aggressive fight.

The other teams rather crazed and drunken enemy demoman, fighting against the doctor's teams Heavy. An enemy Scout was assisting the demoman with a stupid smirk. Those scouts always have that stupid expression..

Engie was working behind his sentry, the machine booming with force and almost pushing the smaller man back. Medic smiled, getting ready to enter the combat...

until a large echoing boom erupted, covering Medic in a white light. He took a moment for the ringing in his ears to stop, and his eyes to regain focus.

"Ow..." The german muttered, holding his head in a daze. He was shoved against a wall after the explosion from that blasted demoman. Obviously he would throw such a strong explosive in such a confined space. Medic wasn't torn up too much in the blast but-

Dell.

Medic shot up from his fallen state, seeing that the demoman sprinted off with scout, and Heavy was already up again. He did look pretty banged up but enough to keep moving.

The explosion must have centered down on the sentry specifically, it not becoming nothing but rubble.

Engie was crumpled on the floor, eyes hazy as his entire right side of his face was covered in blood and open wounds. His goggles had completely shattered at this point.

Medic sprinted towards him, pupils dilated. He slid to the floor, holding up the limp Engineer.

"Engineer, are you alright..?" He had never seen somebody so utterly broken down. He knew the respawn machine would keep him alive, but these wounds couldn't be healed so easily.

Wounds like these need to actually be tended to, or he wouldn't even be able to function, like a constant loop on the brink of death.

A fucking nightmare

Dells eyes-well mainly eye, as the other had been screwed shut at this point, drearily opened.

"Oh...Is that you, Doc?" He smiled weakly, blood streaming from his lip. His stupid smile stayed true, like a lopsided smirk, with no negative motive behind that smile. Just a genuine smile.

"Yes, yes it is me Dell, can you hear me...?" He held the engineer softly, not wanting to tighten his grip to hurt him more.

"your a bit foggy but, yeah..?" His voice slowed, and he winced, trying to touch at his bloody mess of a right face, quickly being stopped by Medics free hand.

"You shouldn't touch it, it'll just make it worse." He tried to slip past the definition of 'it'.

"How bad...Is it?" He chuckled, hacking up some more blood accidentally.

"It's...It's pretty bad Dell but It's going to be okay I promise-" He bit back tears, caressing the others left cheek solemnly.

"Don't shit-talk a shit-talker, Doc." He mustered up the courage to tease the doctor. How could one joke at a time like this?

The Medic let out a depressed giggle, feeling the start of tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Im going to get you back to the infirmary, ja? Your going to feel all better soon, Okay..?" Ludwig carefully picked up the almost corpse of man, who winced in pain.

"Doc..Has anybody told you how pretty you are when you cry like that? You look..." The Engineer smiled, before slowly resting his eyes shut. "...Heavenly..." And that was it from him.

"Engineer? Engie? DELL?!?" Medics eyes melting into tears as he gripped onto the body he held so dearly.

_______

Ludwig basically scrambled to the infirmary, body in hand.

Fuck the Admins rules of staying on field until the round was over.

He stayed in the infirmary for hours, working on Dell's barely breathing body.

When the crew came back to their base, cheering for their win, it only made the Medic angrier.

"Wie soll man in dieser Situation jubeln … Ingenieur, alles wird gut, ich schwöre es." Medic whispered to himself, looking over his coworkers face. He looked so peaceful, still covered in blood. In a different situation, Medic would like this appearance a lot more.

He spent 9 whole hours working on keeping Engie alive.

9 hours spent trying to save him, going through about 3 breakdowns throughout the situation.

Funny enough, he almost called for Engineer to hand him his tweezers. Dell had a tendency to assist Medic every now and then with his experiments.

It felt awfully quiet during the surgery.

_______

Ludwig slept in the infirmary that night in one of the beds. He made sure to scoot his bed near the engineers, just in case he awoke in the night.

He didn't.

His heart rate was normal again, but he was asleep for a few days.

Ludwig was a mess for those few days. He hadn't showered the entire time, he didn't go on missions at all through the week. His hair was unkept and he was barely eating or drinking water. Nobody was there to remind him to keep up with his hygiene after all.

Anybody else who mentioned his appearance would get a bitter syringe in the eye, obviously.

He waited, eyes sparking at any rustle or shift in his friends sleep.

He waited.

and waited.

Waiting for a rather long time, but it only was a week.

For Doctor Ludwig?

It felt like years.

_______

Finally, 7 days after the accident, Engie regained conscious.

Medic was taking a review on his scar when he did, looking over the scar to see if it would open up again and begin to bleed again.The scar seemed to look a bit better after his rampant healing and nonstop care over the week.

Engie let out a soft groan, eyes wincing slightly.

Medic almost let out a choked sob to hear his voice again.

"Dell, are you okay..? Can you hear me well?" He leaned forward slightly, seeing his expression finally move after what felt like forever.

"I sure can Doc, whats going on?" He opened his left eye, squinting at the light. It looked alright, no damage there. His right eye definitely would have some damage, but he hypothesized that he would still have sight through it.

"Oh thank God you're alright, Dell." He smiled, eyes threatening to tear up again. "You got caught in the center of an explosion and you passed out..For seven days." He winced at the amount of time it has been.

"Good lord, seven days? Thats a lot longer then I expected...Are you okay?" He smiled, looking at the disheveled doctor.

"Me? Engie, you were in a coma for a full week and you're asking about me? Thats...Thats not important right now." Medic was flabbergasted at his coworker. Nobody could actually be that humble, right?

"Whats important is your right eye," He paused, searching for the right words. "Can you open it? The right side of your face took the most damage in the explosion. If you can, we can see the damage over your eye and see where to move on from there." He smiled reassuringly, seeing the semi-concerned Engineer.

"Alrighty.." He closed his left eye, before opening both completely. His right pupil was almost completely grey, losing its bright blue to now a dull form. "I can..Kinda see? It's a bit blurry but uh, yeah I can see ya Doc." He smiled, his eyes crinkled in a smile. Medic smiled, tears streaming down he face again. He was okay.

Medic was okay.

_______

A few months after the accident, the two of them got together. It was quite obvious that the Medic had never actually been so crushed when his patient was near death.

Heck, their teams demoman was nearly burnt alive after going through the respawn machine, and Medic did it with a smile on his face. No breakdowns. Nothing.

Engie started using glasses every now and then for reading, and he grew used to his eyesight. He was back to what could be described as normal.

Now he just a grotesque yet interesting conversation piece right on his face. Medic actually liked the scar a bit after they got together. He would trace it carefully with his finger when they slept, softly smiling at the man he held. He was so happy.

so so so happy.

_______

OKAY DONE, THIS TOOK TWO DAYS TO WRITE ON AND OFF YAY! OKAY I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT KIDDO SO UH BYE TOODLES IM GOING TO GO PASS OUT :D

#science party headcanons #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 engie #tf2 engineer #medic x engineer #team fortress two #tf2 au #fanfic #fanfiction #my rambling