#why is his only time to shine in the middle of a fucking war

[tabbyrocks]

minor manga spoilers!!

friendly reminder that monoma was absolutely about to cry here

HE WAS TREMBLING.

#monoma neito #neito monoma #monoma #mha #bnha #litterally falls to the floor in agony #HE JUST WANTS TO BE RECONISED. #goooodddd i cant do this #if anything bad happens to him im dropping the series #why is his only time to shine in the middle of a fucking war #i love monoma angst but then i see it in action and i cant handle it

[gremlingottoosilly]

"If you need to be mean"

Konig just got his promotion to colonel. It also came with deployment in a terrorist-ridden country, but at least he would get an adorable, civilian you as a prize. TW: Konig being a huge pervert, Canon-Typical violence, Dub-Con, Innocence kink, Age difference(Konig in his yearly 40, Reader in young 20)

Pairing: Konig x fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, Power Imbalance, Hurt/Comfort, Size Kink, Possessive Konig, Yandere Konig, Creepy scary stalker Konig, written mostly from Konig perspective Word count: 5213 My AO3

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

König hates this fucking country.

Shithole in the middle of nowhere, with literally nothing going on – some border quarrels with some terrorists that are desperately trying to settle into the big war on terror that won’t achieve a thing and would be meaningless anyway. No one wanted to actually station here – this is why they promoted him so quickly, just so they could send him away like a pack of garbage they can’t give two shit about throwing out. 

He never even wanted this promotion. Too much work, too many people, never enough time to relax. Payment is sweet, of course – if he only had time to use any of this. He is too old for new titles, you can’t teach old dog new tricks – and, quite frankly, he does feel terribly old while doing nothing but pushing papers and listening to some useless fucking recruits with their reports. 

Job is simple – stay on the base, make sure that the locals won’t become too villifed to the soldiers that are supposed to protect them, even though he already knows how people would feel about the PMC stationed in their city. Fights with occasional resistance from the outsider force that decided “Hey, let’s just annex our neighbor, what could possibly happen?”. He doesn’t know a lot about this country – but if they have enough money to hire KorTac to help the local forces, he might be quite interested. If he only had energy for that anymore – between relentless paperwork and occasional yelling at his stupid fucking nonsense of rookie – seriously, it feels like they hired a bunch of edgy 12 year olds instead of normal soldiers. 

Job is simple and he finds himself bored to death because this isn’t what he enlisted for. He wanted to fight, to kill, to burden this urge to hurt people who once wronged him with someone who is – probably, maybe, somehow – deserve it. Not really a noble cause, but he stopped playing knight in shining armor once they used him as an infiltration weapon instead of what he actually wanted. All hopes and goals in his life were buried deep with his first sniper rifle – and rude comments about his inability to sit still, even though he is still as good at being a killing machine as a human being possibly can. 

— Sir! We, uh, have a problem to report. 

Gut. 

A problem – this sounds as exciting as it can be. Last time his brigade got a problem, it was about some new recruits falling down with stomach ache because of the forged alcohol they were drinking. Also that one time someone tried to burst their way into the base – not fun, since officers took care of him, but it was at least something to do except for reading and scrolling through various housing options like he actually has a use of buying something with more than one bedroom. Like someone would look at him and love him – enough to pass through some easy fling and start living with him. No one would do that – even his parents couldn’t. 

Still, the problem sounds exciting. Maybe, he could actually go on a mission instead of feeling useless. They promoted him just to pin on the wall like a trophy.

— Repost immediately, soldier. What is it? 

— A civilian, well…a civillina woman…lady, broke the curfew. 

And here it is. Not an unexpected attack from his enemies, not even a drunken fight that someone from his subordinates decided to join and ended up getting their asses kicked. Is this what years of service come to? Watching over some stupid club girls broking the easiest fucking rule to follow, like getting home at midnight is a completely alien experience for them. One of the things he hates about his rank – he is used like a public figure, giving speeches, trying so hard to come up with something other than “Ja, we will kick asses of everyone who tries to infiltrate your country, don’t worry” and then he has to act like he knows what he is doing. Which he obviously doesn’t. If there was a way to just give up his rank and become a shadow again, a monster under a terrorist’s bed, he would do it. Without even a second to think. 

— Send her to the police. We aren’t supposed to deal with…

Then comes the second guy – he doesn’t even remember his name, fuck this, he is supposed to be a father to his troops, or big brother at least, but he couldn’t give less of a fuck to someone weaker – inferior, smaller, someone who will die within a week or so in his first battle because apparently, higher-ups just love recruiting spineless teenagers now. 

Second guy comes to the room, holding someone very firmly by their hand – and König isn’t religious, he isn’t even sure when was the last time he was at any church, the little prayers his grandma used to sing is long forgotten for him, but he sees your face and almost believes in angels. 

König is too old for this shit, again, he hates this country, his team, his rank – then he looks at your face, the way it twists with fear and nervousness because of course, one of his dumb subordinates is holding you too tight and the softness of your flesh – why in the world you are wearing such light clothes, it’s night outside, you will catch a cold and he would give you his jacket, but that would drown you under the weight of it, and he don’t want you to smell the alcohol he has on his clothes, terrible coping mechanism with boredom, and he might just give you something else, maybe, like his shirt or a…

Wait a minute. 

He doesn’t even know your name, even though he is sure this is something gorgeous and would look perfect next to his last name, but he looks at your face and all the years of his military training is suddenly washed away because he can’t even muster a thing out of his mouth. Thank god no one is forcing him to stop wearing his hood – he wouldn’t be able to survive otherwise, not with how hot his face feels right now. You are nervous, this is obvious, since you broke the curfew and went on the streets past 11 pm. He should just bring you to the police, he isn’t even sure why his soldiers would bring some random civilian to the base. He immediately wants to give this private a raise – for bringing him a goddess walking on Earth. Angel, succubus, all of the fancy names and…it feels like he is going crazy. And he should compose himself. Be a good example of a rotten mercenary commander. 

— Why were you breaking the curfew, miss..?

He hates how squeaky his voice sounds, even after all the years in service he can’t get rid of that boyish tone and nervousness every time he is talking to women. All the fear is immediately washed away after you tell him your name – and it’s gorgeous, perfect, feels like something he can devour, something he can moan in the depth of the night while using his hand as a poor substitute for the warmth of your body. 

The pause lingers too much and he already suggests just…taking you. To further investigation. to see if you are really just an innocent person caught up in breaking the rules or an enemy spy – which would give him the perfect opportunity to interrogate you and hold you for a bit longer. He wants you to be a problem, actually – that would give him the authority to hold you here, to think about you in a way that won’t immediately make him a bad person. 

— Went to the pharmacy. Forgot about the time, I’m…I’m sorry. 

You look guilty and weak and nervous obviously – a good girl caught up in the reality of her home country now implementing new rules just so it won’t get annexed by their neighbor. He wants to protect you – or give you the real reason to be scared of him. He wants to be good, but you look too cold in those clothes and he wants to give you something more. Or warm you up in a different way – which makes him feel horrible, his skin crawls and hands are fidgeting again even though he is almost sure he forgot about that habit after a few trigger-happy moments with the enemies. 

— Pharmacies should be closed by this time. Why were you here so late? 

Soldier that brought you here left you with König – colonel, you saw him in the newspapers and on TV, some public speeches while concealing his face in various ways. You don’t trust him, don’t trust the mercenaries – how can you believe that they are going to save you if they don’t even dare to show their faces? He is even scarier in person – big, hulking, too muscular to feel safe, with something like a sack thrown over his head. You want to forget about the medicine you bought and just run away, but that would only mean outright saying that you are guilty. 

You brace yourself and try not to feel too small, but König just wants to wrap his hands around you and throw that weak body of yours on his shoulder. Not letting you go away. Ever.

— I…got lost. Sorry, I know what this looks like, but I just changed the apartment and…look, this is a bog misunderstanding. I have my documents, I’m local! Not some spy or anything, I promise. 

Too bad – you would have the opportunity to escape if you were an enemy. Some evil and wicked femme fattal that is here to seduce him and get the important information out of him – but if you are telling the truth and nothing, but a civilian, he isn’t sure that he could save you from…falling to his hands. It’s stupid, he should really just find someone to fuck, he is getting desperate over the first cute and gentle girl he saw in this place – but really, do he has a chance with a soldier if just a helpless weakling like you can make him kneel? He needs to compose himself. 

— You really shouldn’t be out so late. There is a reason the curfew is upheld. It saves you from the danger. 

— For now the only danger after midnight is your soldiers, apparently. 

Your breath hitches as you understand what you just said – god, who was holding your tongue and making you blurt this in front of the fucking commander? You might have had the chance of just escaping before, you weren’t doing anything wrong, you know that some of your friends were breaking the curfew after a party or late visits, but they were never held to the police or martial law – soldiers are understanding of the situation, no one from the young people actually wants to stay in their houses no matter the threats war can bring. You might have the chance of going out with nothing but some harsh words about those stupid younglings ignoring the rules – but now you insulted his men and this will probably bring you to jail for the night at least or something even more…

He laughs. And the sound of it makes your cheeks warm. 

— Ja, I can understand why you would say that. But you shouldn’t break the curfew. 

You feel like winning a lottery, but the prize isn’t money – it’s the chance of getting out of this creepy building and going home to your warm sheets and slight smells of devastation and loneliness. 

— I’m really sorry, sir, I won’t do this again. Promise. 

You look guilty, and König loves this expression. The softness of your face, the way your eyes are filled with tears when you think he would actually make you goto jail or do something even worse. He relishes in this power over you – even though he doesn’t mingle with civilians, always keeps a safe distance with women around him, never dares to even give them a careful look. He wants to take you away – protect from the world around you, from this fucking place, from all the dangers. The only thing that is dangerous to you seems like him – because he is the only one with power here, the only one who can decide whether he wants to behave like an asshole and lock you away or…

— I can’t just let you go. Let me…I can escort you to your residence so I can make sure you actually went home. And not somewhere else.

He looks at your pharmacy bag – it's a shitty plastic one, transparent and see-through. He understands immediately why you would decide to run to the pharmacy so abruptly even within the vicinity of the curfew – and the fact your bag contains pads and pain medicine only makes him want to scoop you in his arms and get you to his quarters. Government gave them a pretty nice location for the base and he, as the commander, got a bedroom that won’t even make you think about the military. Perks of quartering outside of base, even the barracks are nicer than the ones at home – and he would love to introduce your sore body to the comforts of warm sheets. 

You look at him, surprised and nervous, your adorable lips twists in a pout as you think about your options. You can’t really say no, this can make him angry and resentful – and these aren't emotions you want the local military personnel to feel about you. He is also scary, and stares too much – you don’t want him to look at you like this, both surprised and depraved, but something in his figure still makes you trust him. Maybe it’s that weird propaganda about them protecting your country – he is a public figure, he can’t be evil, right? Maybe it’s just the way his hands fidgets as if he is nervous about your answer – or little cracks in his voice that makes you blush just a little every time you hear it. Or you are simply too tired to not comply. 

— I, um…are you sure? You must have some other things to do. I don’t want to be a bother, really. 

— I want to protect you from harm. Nights are dangerous. 

You want to say that it’s okay, you spend more time in this country than he is – and you know every little corner of the city by this point, no matter the military outposts and destruction. You also want to say that this is creepy as fuck and you don’t want a random guy to just know where you live – but you can’t say that, you are already almost buried yourself with that long tongue of yours, and the only thing you want to do right now is just drink your ibuprofen in peace and get teleported to your bed. 

You want to say no, but it almost feels like something romantic and even though he isn’t showing his face, the view of his muscles, bursting out his clothes and body armor, enough to make you agree. You can regret that decisions later – but with the way his eyes light up like he is a puppy, you probably won’t. 

— Okay. I…I mean, if that’s okay with you, sir. 

— I live to serve. Und ich diene gerne jemanden, dir so bezaubernd ist wie du.

— Sorry?

It sounds like German, and the way he pronounces it makes you feel like it’s something important – but you don’t want to ask for translation, he mutters it under his breath, Maybe some curses about stupid girls getting caught by his soldiers and how he needs to escort them to make sure they are not enemy spies ready to put their knives in his back.

— Just show the way. 

He is awkward, he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, he looks at you and fights the urge to just squish you with his hands. You are pouting, your hands are trembling, and you are shaking – maybe from the cold or just from fear. König hates himself for not understanding whether he wants you to be scared of him or not. There is something dark, predatory almost, in having someone as adorable as you shaking like a leaf – but he also wants to just scoop you in his hands and make sure you will never be afraid of him. 

He is awkward, silent, he goes on the open side of the sideroad like protecting you from any vehicles that may cross the road at this hour – even though the only ones who are allowed to move at this time of day are hospital workers and his soldiers. His hand looms over your side, like he is not sure whether he wants to just grab you by your shoulder or allow you to lead in a more simple way. You feel protected in a way – you can’t even read his expressions because of that weird mask he is wearing, but his eyes are strangely warm every time he looks at you and thinks you are not looking at him. 

König wants to talk, but he isn’t sure what he even can say to you. The weather is nice? It’s the night, a cold one, and he doesn’t want you to catch some weird illness, but he also doesn’t want to seem like a creep by giving you his jacket. He would do so in a blink of an eye, he would die seeing your smaller body wrapped in his clothes like a nice little gift – but he knows who he is. Monster, giant, always too much and never enough, zero experience with someone who is one his one night stand in some lousy pub when he hates himself a bit less than usual. And you smell clean, civilian, sweet almost, he feels like a dog by just looking at the way your cheeks are blushing from the cold weather. 

He wants to initiate the conversation, know what you like and dislike, maybe learn your opinion about the situation – many locals dislike military presence, he understands this, KorTac isn’t known for being the best guys around here, but they get the job done, however bloody this might be. He would give away anything to just be able to talk – to speak like a normal person, without scaring you or making you think that he is weird. It’s borderline embarrassing, over the many years of his life he was thinking that he would outgrow his anxiety somehow – and here he is, fidgeting with the stupid anti stress toy in his pocket that his therapist gave him, not knowing how to talk to a girl in his grown up years. 

— You’re local.

It doesn’t even sound like a genuine question, it’s more like a threatening statement and he doesn’t like the way it sounds. He can’t gave it back now, it would be even weirder, he just wants to calm down and breathe, but even this is fucking impossible when every time he looks at you, it seems like you are only getting prettier.

— Lived here all my life, sir. 

You’re nervous, and he at least finds some comfort in this – he is not the only one who is scared here, even though he understands that you will surely be more scared than him. But it still comforts him just a little, knowing that you are in roughly the same boat – he can smile under his hood and attempt to at least pretend to be normal. Even if this would be literally impossible for someone like him. 

— Where do you work? 

It sounds like an interrogation and you are not sure if you want to answer truthfully – he isn't trying to force you right now, he isn’t even touching you no matter how closely you are walking, but you are smart enough to understand why telling a random man you just met where you live and work is a bad idea. Even if the man itself is a prominent figure in protecting – or not – your country and literally walks you home because you got lucky to not be sent to the police for breaking the curfew. You would just lie to him about where you work and, hopefully, never see him again – but it’s not just a random guy you met on Tinder. He probably has the resources to check if you really work in said place and if you didn’t and just lied to him then, well…he isn’t threatening you, but your overthinking is enough to make you scared. 

— Just a waitress. Cafe I work at isn’t very far from my apartment. 

You even tell him the address, all while praying he won’t visit you at work. He has the right, of course, especially if he would leave a good tip, but military personnel staying at your cafe probably won’t be good for business. Clients may go away, and that would mean leaving you without tips – and then you can kiss your shitty apartment goodbye. He probably won’t visit you, he is just asking this to fill the awkward silence and check whether you are a spy or not – how confident your answers are, if your story checks out or not. He is a colonel, he must have a lot of other stuff to do instead of chasing over some rule breakers. 

— Hm. 

König already knows where he will be eating every day from now on. But…hell, can he do this, really? It would probably be very awkward for both of you, and you may think that is stalking you, which he definitely is, but doesn’t want to show it yet. He can give you a nice tip every time, he sure as hell has money for it, but then you would think that he is trying to buy you, which he would of course try to if you would be fine with it because honestly, girl as adorable as you should get all the nicest thing she wants to, and he can provide for it, but his damned awkwardness would never let him outright say this, which would lead to a very uncomfortable situation and…

— We might need someone local to help with operations. 

Nailed it. Right? 

— Wh…what do you mean, sir? 

You look scared, nervous, he doesn’t want you to be scared, you’re supposed to feel safe around him! He might hate higher ups for giving him this rank and sending him to this fucking country, but he will protect you no matter what. He wants to be useful, for people to stop being scared of him – to start liking him instead, even if some cold, dismissive way of just stopping bothering him with stupid stuff. He would allow you to bother him all the time, he would protect you and make sure you are alright – you just have to let him, that would be really easy and…

— We’re strangers here. Lots of operations crossed because locals refuse to cooperate. We might need a guide out here. 

He sounds nonchalant, like he doesn’t really care about your answer, but the grip of his hands is stating otherwise. He throws you nervous looks, cold eyes flickering with anxiety as you take your time to answer, secretly hoping that you would get home before you’d had to state this. It doesn’t feel like a genuine question, more like a statement again. More like you don’t really have an option to say no, since he still has the power over you. Since he still looks and sounds like someone who can and will throw you over his shoulder and use it as a cannon folder. 

— I…I’m not sure, sir. I have to work at my actual job. 

Can he blow up your cafe? That would greatly diminish the chances of bumping into you on a romantic Sunday morning, ordering coffee just the way you secretly like it, and then leaving you a very generous tip that would immediately show you what a sophisticated and loaded gentleman he is. He can say that enemies did it, and then he would execute those poor people for ever messing with civilians. He can also get some people from the government to close it, so you wouldn’t have any place to work and then you would be simply forced to work with him – and help him get out of this country as soon as possible. He would pay you well, of course, and being your boss would be a very…interesting experience for him. 

— Are you sure?

You bite your lips and it's proven to be a horrible idea in such terrible weather – your skin breaks easily and you feel the blood in your mouth. Nice – now you would have to invest in lip balms again even though you are sure as hell that even yesterday the weather was nice. Colonel – König, you remember his callsign, no names of course, some twisted secret identity over protecting people who can literally kill you and won’t have consequences – look at you and you can swear to god that his eyes are narrowed, studying your features a bit more. Is he going to kill you for refusing the…job offer? Demand of working with mercenaries to protect your country? 

— Sorry, I…I really need to think about this. And get at least two weeks notice from my job. 

He is too focused on the way blood is glistening on your lips. He wants to lift the lower half of his hood and lick every little drop lingering in your mouth. Kiss this little wound until you would turn into a moaning, crying mess under him. Hold you so tight, he would leave bruises in places his fingers were – all while you are allowing him to. He isn’t delusional enough to think you like him the way he adores you already, but he is delusional enough to imagine you would comply with him mostly – he is a great person. Except for almost everything, of course. 

The road to your home is lonely, no one around, obviously. People aren’t breaking the curfew on the main streets – except for you, apparently, they are tending to do stuff in the shadows if they need something to go out at night. He looks at every street light with suspicion, almost wanting for someone to try and attack you – that would allow him to be your hero, protector, to put out all of his pent-up aggression on someone else while being praised for it. He wants someone to try and kill him just to feel a bit more alive – but then you stop in front of the house, and it only takes one look for him to decide that no, he isn’t going to let you go that easily. He may not be a good or even decent person, but he is not allowing an adorable little thing like you to live in that fucking rathole. 

— You live here? 

— Yes. Thank you for, well, looking after me. I know that I broke rules, I won’t…won’t do that again. Sorry. 

— No. 

— What do you mean “No”?

Is he going to inspect your apartment? You are pretty sure that you left your bed in a very chaotic state and there is more than one pair of panties lying on the couch. Not even speaking about how horrible your living conditions are – tiny apartments, barely enough space for one person fitting in 20 square feet with all of their stuff inside, and an overwhelming desire to blow something up each morning when one of your neighbors is fighting again. 

You don’t have anything to hide, but you are getting pretty tired of people who just think that because they sold their bodies to the military, they can do what they want. 

— It’s a horrible place for a girl to live. 

Hey! You might hate your place, but even that rathole of an apartment doesn't deserve something like this. 

— Well, it’s not a castle, but…I manage. 

— Don’t you have another place to sleep? 

He is fighting with the urge to invite you to the base instead. Far greater place for a little goddess like you, much nicer than…this. He has to physically restrain himself from throwing a hand on your shoulder. He just stared, hoping that you would pull a prank on him and actually has some better living conditions – he can’t bear thinking about you in that kind of life instead. 

— It’s a nice one, really! At least I don’t have to live with roommates. 

He can be your roommate. No, not even like this. He can buy you a freaking house if you would want, just pick a place, preferably in Austria, and that would be easy. He would love to just provide for you, to get to live with someone as adorable – as in need of protection as you. He understands that being this delusional is off brand even to him and his wild fantasies, but he spends too much time hating his work lately, and he needs some outlets, breathing room to just drown himself in fantasies about a nice girl who can actually like him. Who can be his everything, a cure to fix him even though his therapist says such expectations from your partner are toxic and codependent. 

He knows that he can’t say anything to you right now. If anything, you would dismiss any of his worries and just call him a psycho – would be right, probably, he doesn’t even know why he is so obsessed with your safety all of a sudden. He is only self-reflective enough to understand that he can’t act right now, no matter how much he would want to. He can only sigh and let the situation go, for now. He can always just show up at the place you work at. Totally not creepy at all, definitely, completely. 

— Be safe, hase. This time is very dangerous for a girl like you. 

— It’s…okay, really. You don’t have to worry about me, sir. 

Oh, but he wants to. 

Oh, but you want to run up the stairs and close the door behind you as fast as you possibly can. And maybe, just maybe, give him your number – definitely for consultation about the safety and how you can forfeit from breaking the curfew later in life. 

He puts a hand on your shoulder, large fingers tracing over your thin shirt, and goosebumps that are running on your skin aren’t from just the cold weather. You feel ashamed for kinda liking the situation – you are creeped out by him, you are curious about him, and you kinda want him to do something else. But he squeezes the soft flesh of your shoulders, rolling a bit lower, to your back – and then lets go. You breath hitches as he takes a step back, clenching his hand as if fighting the urge to do something else. 

— We’ll meet again. 

You just nod, not sure if you want it or not. König makes a point to determine which apartment is yours based on the window placement and pay you a visit in his leave time. 

#call of duty #cod x reader #cod x you #cod #konig mw2 #konig x you #konig cod #konig x reader #konig #reader insert #yandere cod #yandere x reader #yandere konig #yandere male

[retroellie]

Looking out for you

Summary: When the whisperers are knocking at your door, a war is just waiting to happen. However, this war goes far beyond just a war this time.

A/N: Hey :) i wrote this a while back but i just decided to finish it. I was going to write a smut for it but honestly i was not in the mood for smut today, so here's a little fluff/angst for your day <3 Also i miss y'all so much!!

Warnings: regular TWD content, mentions of miscarriage and death

Word count: 3.5K

Tomorrow is the day, the day you will experience the place you once called home become a battlefield, the people you love become soldiers, and the world feels as though it is ending once again. You didn’t want this war, no one did but the whisperers wouldn’t let up. They were a tough group, very different than any group you have ever been up against but your people were even stronger, you have all been through hell and back.

You would not let the whispers destroy your home without a fight, none of you would. You all have experienced loss too many times, Glenn, Rick, Jesus, Carl… the list goes on. You were all angry, ready to pounce on anything that came too close. You all knew it needed to be done but you didn’t want to, you were against it. You had been fighting for so long, so hard that you were exhausted. You think you're becoming depressed, more depressed than usual.

The other wars you fought were different, no one depended on you, you weren’t too close to anyone. Sure they were your family but if you died, you’d just be another name on the wall at Alexandria. This time it was different because you had someone who depended on you, you had people who depended on you. You had Lydia, rj and Judith, the entire community of hilltop all looking at you but most importantly, you had Daryl.

You guys had made it official before Ricks disappearance, it wasn’t anything too romantic but the night started with you two checking around the walls of Alexandria and it ended with Daryl tongue fucking your face. You both had been close with each other, looking out for each other and making sure the other was safe. So it was almost like you two had already been dating, the kiss just made it real for the two of you.

But he was why the war this time was different, if you lost him… you couldn’t recover. You swore the sun would stop shining, water would evaporate and never come back down, buildings would burn and your world would completely stop. You thought it would be bad to lose him but oh… if he lost you. He had already planned on going with you, you weren’t going to leave him by himself again, he refused. Even if you didn’t lose each other, you would still lose something in this war.

You had a bad feeling about this, you knew it would bring great loss this time around and grief wouldn’t be too kind to you. So here you were, in the middle of the night when everyone else was asleep, only the patrols were wide awake… searching for any movement to sound the alarm. You were sitting on the porch stairs, watching as the wind blew through the leaves of the trees. It was a cold night, so you lit up a cigarette to keep you warm.

It was the first time that you were able to think, the silence of it all leaving you alone with your thoughts. You were terrified to say the least, you had never felt this way about anything, not like this. You could tell everyone was on edge, even Daryl. When you saw the look on his face when he came through the gates with Lydia, he tried to hold back his fear but you knew. That was the first time you had ever seen Daryl scared, which automatically set deep fear within you.

“You’re gonna freeze out here.” A voice said, startling you.

You turned to see who it was, but slowly calming as you saw it was just Daryl. He tried to give you a warm smile but you were far too scared to even acknowledge it. You turned around, back to where you were looking before. You forgot how beautiful fall months could be, the leaves had already started to turn into beautiful shades of red, yellow, orange and brown.

You just shrugged, taking a long drag of the cigarette before exhaling. You didn’t care if you froze where you were now, the beautiful view making you feel at peace for a moment. You could hear Daryl shift behind you, seeing him from your peripheral. Daryl sat down next to you, the wood of the porch creaking as he did so. you wondered if you and Daryl did survive this, what would happen next? What enemy would you have to fight after this? How would the next fuck up start and were you even ready for it?

“Sorry, I haven’t been here for you, just so much going on.” He said, watching as you took another long drag of your cigarette.

He wanted to be here with you, desperately but as of right now everyone is looking up to you two for answers. Carol was a wreck, the king was now coming to terms with his cancer, Maggie wasn’t here, Jesus was dead, Tara was dead… it was only you two left now, you two made the shots now. Neither of you wanted this though, All Daryl wanted was to run away with you. To New Mexico… he even had a plan for it.

“‘S okay, I get it.” You said, passing your cigarette over to him.

Daryl took it, taking a long drag of it. He could taste your chapstick on it, the taste bringing back memories of the night spent pleasuring each other. Daryl could sense your nervousness, your fear or whatever you want to call it. You were usually quiet, you allowed others to talk and you would listen, Daryl swore he had been the only one to hear you speak more than 2 words but your quietness now felt off.

He knew you and he knew you well, he knew that you hid your emotions and that you hated talking about your feelings. But the thing you hated most was awkward silences, they were the loudest thing to you. You couldn’t even enjoy the silence because the awkwardness blocked it out, you hated them. So you allowing one to happen right now, hinted to Daryl that something was wrong.

“Rj today wore my vest, it was ten t…” he started, not being able to finish before you dropped a bomb on him.

“I’m scared Daryl.” You said, turning your head to face him for the first time.

Daryl felt his heart throb, you were doing something you hated the most and you were doing it with tears in your eyes. You’re staring at him and he’s staring back at you, the cigarette in his hand blowing smoke into his eyes but he never once looked away. He could see it on your face, pure fear.

“What?” He asked dumbfounded as you blinked slowly at him.

“I know what you're trying to do, trying to ease the silence but you can’t Daryl because you’re worried, it’s written all over your face” You started, reaching out for the cigarette. “So no Daryl… I’m not okay, I’m fucking scared.”

You took the cigarette, breathing in its air, allowing the toxic air to burn into your lungs. Daryl continued to watch you even after you had started looking up at the trees once more. He wasn't sure what was next to say, should he question you further or should you both just suffer in silence. Daryl hated that he couldn’t do anything for you, especially now. Everyone was scared, Everyone... and if you were scared then there was no hope for anything.

Daryl had left you alone a lot lately, allowing you to figure shit out alone and he felt terrible for it but this wasn’t the first time he left you alone. When Rick died he disappeared, you would visit him for a couple days but then you’d go back to being alone. It’s not that he wanted to leave you ever, things just got in the way. So you being terrified was bound to happen at some point, not being able to lean on someone else would eventually catch up to you.

Daryl looked down at his hands, seeing how they absentmindedly fidgeted together. You had that effect on Daryl, you made him feel like a scared teenager in love sometimes. He never quite knew what to say and how to say it, sometimes words would get lost in his head when he was near you.

“You uh… you want to talk about it?” He asked, stuttering out his words.

You weren’t the only one bad with feelings, Daryl could physically not get the words out but he so desperately wanted you to know he was there for you. He wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to say in this situation or if you would even want to speak about everything happening, again Daryl hadn't been around for you recently, he hadn’t been there for you.

“Not really…” you admitted, taking another drag of the cigarette. It had become a small bud at this point, but you once again passed it to Daryl. “But I will because you're my boyfriend and I won't leave you in the dark… not now.”

Daryl couldn’t even bring the cigarette up to his lips this time, he just stared down at the burning end of it. There was another awkward silence but it only lasted for a minute or two. You needed time to form your thoughts and calm your mind before you told him what had been aching in your mind for days now. You brought your arms together, wrapping them around your cold body as you rubbed warmth into yourself.

“What if this is our last fight?” You asked, biting your lip as you tried to hold back tears. “I mean, we’ve already lost so many people. Jesus, Tara, Henry…enid.”

Your breath hitched when enid's name fell from your lips, she was a little sister to you and losing her felt like it was the end of the world. She reminded you of Carl, so strong and knew exactly who she was. She was the last thing you had of Carl and now she was gone, you couldn’t bare to see her on that pole… it almost killed you.

“It’s only a matter of time before I lose you too, so what if this is it? What if we fight tomorrow and you end up getting stabbed or bitten… or you lose me.” You couldn’t stop the tears now, they flowed from your eyes as you looked over at him.

“We’ve fought before Y/N… this is just another hiccup.” He tried to reassure you but it didn’t help, it only made the anger build up in your heart even more.

“No Daryl… this is different because it’s not just us this time.” You said, trying to explain but it just didn't want to come out the way you wanted it to.

“What? Judith and rj? I mean Judith knows how to fight and rj won’t..” he started but you stopped him once again.

“Daryl… I didn’t mean them.” You said, wanting to let it all out of your system before it ate you up alive.

He was staring at your cigarette still in his hands, you were about to drop a huge bomb on him… even bigger than what you’d already dropped on him. You couldn’t lose him without him knowing though, he needed to know. You sighed, wiping your tears away from your eyes before setting your hands in your lap.

“I think I’m pregnant.”

Daryl choked on his own spit, his face drained of blood and he dropped the cigarette. What the actual fuck, was all he could think. He had dreamed of getting you pregnant, so many times he lost count but it can’t be happening now… not now. He just stayed silent, it was the only thing he could do because he had no idea how he felt. He wanted to run away, he wanted to scream, he wanted to cry so he just stayed as still as he could.

“I thought maybe it was a stomach bug, I was throwing up every time I smelled food and I couldn’t keep shit down but then I realized I was late 3 weeks…” you explained, curing yourself up into a ball to make yourself as small as possible. “I know my mom was like this when she was pregnant with my siblings so I’m just putting two and two together.”

Daryl felt like the world was closing in on him, to add onto his shitty couple months he’s had you drop this on him. It’s not like he didn’t want kids with you but god damn he really wished he'd wrapped it up right now, so many bad things could happen to you right now. He wanted to kiss you, he wanted to make sure you knew he was here but he couldn’t. He was stuck frozen but his eyes had started to burn, from the smoke or from the tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

“Shit…” was all he could muster up to say.

You chuckled at his reaction, watching as he slowly freaked out. You knew you were ready for a kid, you had been ever since you meant Daryl but it was the wrong time. You didn’t know if you could fight, the risks of you getting killed or you losing the baby was high. The whisperers didn’t fuck around, you knew what was going to come from this war. It wasn’t just you two now, you had someone depending on you and it wasn’t just Daryl or the others. With this is was different because the others can survive if you didn't, but this baby... it quite literally depended on your survival.

“Shit is right… you got me knocked up by Daryl Dixon.” You chuckled, wiping your tears with your sweater.

You both just sat in silence, allowing your words to consume the both of you. You felt you couldn’t breathe in this moment but at the same time you felt you could finally breathe, this overwhelmed you more than it did Daryl. You knew what risks could happen, the risks that Lori had and she died because of them. This world was cruel, it wouldn’t allow you to be happy, it wouldn’t let you be happy with the man you love and your child in your arms.

You never wanted to be a mother, you rejected that life but you can see it now. You crave it now, you crave coming home after a long day to see Daryl and your child passed out on the couch. You crave to walk into your child’s room, seeing Daryl reading to your sleeping child, then coming to your room to make love to you. You would have never thought you would want this but you were tired, you wanted to settle down with daryl. The silence was still hovering heavily in the air when you came back to earth from your thoughts.

“Daryl… please tell me what you’re thinking. You know I hate when you don’t talk to me…” You begged for him to speak, to tell you it was okay and that you had nothing to worry about.

“Think you should stop smoking.” He stated, as if he didn’t hear you.

You couldn’t help but get frustrated with him, you didn’t mean to, you just did. Maybe it was the hormones or the weight you were feeling but you wanted to scream at him. People would die, good people and you were both putting yourself at risk because of some petty drama with the whisperers. You were ready to leave this all behind you, you wanted to run away and all Daryl can think about is your health?

“Seriously? Daryl…” you sighed, face heating up. “People are going to die, we are risking our lives with this war and all you can think about is my smoking habit.”

You set your head in your hands, curling into a ball so hopefully the earth would consume you. You hated this feeling, the fear and the anger that you held in your chest. It weighs you down and you wanted it to stop, you wanted it to stop so badly that you could feel yourself tearing yourself apart just to ease it. Daryl looked calm now, his hands still fidgeting but he was calm… you hated how calm he looked because how could he be calm?

“Yeah, I’m looking out for you… just like I always have.” He replied, his voice laced with reassurance. “Y/N, have I ever not protected you? Have I ever left you? Left you without coming back?”

You looked over at Daryl, he was already looking back at you. His eyes were calm, like calm ocean waves that you could fall into if you weren’t careful. Daryl needed you to know he was here and he wasn’t going anywhere. He needed you to know, he didn’t care if he had to pound it into you or keep you up all night craving it into your skin… you needed to know. You shook your head, sure if you were to speak you would start sobbing. Daryl smiled, moving in closer so his legs were touching yours.

“Exactly, I never have and I don’t plan on doing it now.” He said, bringing his hand up to wipe your tears away. “People will die but they will die fighting for the future of Alexandria and hilltop, our future y/n. They are the ones who are going to give our kid a chance, it’s sad but it’s what has to happen.”

His hands were cradling your face, slowly caressing your cheeks as tears continued to stream down them. Seeing you like this, so broken down, had Daryl’s eyes prickling with warm tears.

“I will make sure we see another day, bunny… I promise that, okay?” He reassured, watching as you nodded, making it known you were trusting him.

He brought you into a hug, you melted into him. You couldn’t help the sobs that you let out, grabbing onto him with dead life. You were so scared but his words soothed your fears, now your tears flowed out simply because you were so in love with him. He always made sure you were okay, no matter what was wrong he always knew how to make you feel better.

You had hope of seeing another tomorrow, you could see you two going into war now. Hand in hand as you fought, fought harder than you ever had. You were going to see another tomorrow, you promised it. You were going to be selfish for the first time in years and you were doing this for you, you were going to survive for you. Daryl’s hand soothingly pet your head, massaging your scalp as you let your tears flow out of your eyes.

“We’re gonna be okay bunny…” he whispered, leaving small kisses to your hair line.

You nodded once more, taking in his words as you cuddled into him. You stayed like this for a bit, allowing the moment to take you in with loving arms. You broke away from the hug after the moment had felt like an eternity, you looked at him with tear filled eyes as they continued to pour out of your eyes. Daryl kept his hands on you, his hands slowly rubbing circles on your skin

“Daryl.” You said, almost in a whisper.

“Yeah?” He replied

You felt so many emotions, so many overwhelming emotions so it wasn’t surprising when you wanted Daryl to take you to bed and love you like it’s the last time. Your fear of the war still lingered even though it had been dulled, you still wanted Daryl to bore his words into your skin so you’ll never forget it. It would honestly just give you an excuse to forget everything.

“Whether we make it or not…” you started, watching as Daryl’s eyebrows furrowed, wondering what would come next. "I want you to take me to the bed room... and fuck me like it's the last time."

Daryls taken back by this, one minute you were in a tear-filled rant and now you are asking to be fucked. Daryl took a minute to realize you were being serious, seeing the lust that had taken over your eyes. Your tear-streaked face looking up at him with puppy dog eyes, he couldn't say no to you. Daryl smiled, standing up and handing you his hand.

"Anything for you..." He put it simply, watching you reach your hand out to connect to his.

The night was far from over, filled with "i love you"'s and the sound of the both of you moaning. You made sure if one of you hadn't made it, the other was carved into your skin. Obviously, Daryl knew this was not going to be the last time you were together, Daryl was a fighter and he made sure nothing ever happened to you, that mindset wasn't going to stop for him now. 

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon #the walking dead #twd daryl #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x reader

[theemptyartdeco]

Twin Tides (Nate Jacobs)

Summary:

Kaitlyn Arundel, a former prep school princess from New York City, was a pawn in her parents' war of a divorce, had a fire in her that was concealed by a facade of naivety and perfection.

Nate Jacobs is the king of the monsters that once haunted him, a master of control born from his own nightmares.

When their worlds collide, lines blur and reflections emerge, hinting that perhaps, they're not as different as they seem.

Materlist

Chapter 2 Calmness amidst the Storm | Kaitlyn

Warning: This chapter contains prejudice, strong pejorative language and internalized misogyny. (Both of them are deeply flawed characters, read at your own discretion.)

Kaitlyn Arundel belonged to everywhere but nowhere.

To the glamorous New York, to the exotic Beijing, to melancholic Vancouver, Kaitlyn came, breathed and lived. She didn’t mind the habitual change of scenery. Why would she ever? She adored the privilege of flying above the world, rainy wooden scent of the northwestern coast, the foreign and mysterious capital of an ancient civilization and the vibrancy and grandeur of the city where dreams were made of.

But finding herself in a Californian suburban town was something that had almost sent her over the edge of anger and despair.

“Sweet daughter, it doesn’t matter whether you are in New York or anywhere else. Diamond shines everywhere it travels to.”

“Don’t you blame it on me. It’s your father’s fault that I can’t afford your private tuitions and ballet training anymore.”

“I will be sending allowance on your card. Don’t you ever worry. It’s your mother I am punishing, not you.”

“Kaitlyn, I’ve looked into your profile, 4.2 GPA, outstanding volunteering experience. Keep your academic records as it is, you will get into college in no time.”

Getting to a college? Is the man fucking serious? I do not belong to some low life community college. I belong to an Ivy.

“Kaitlyn.”

“Kaitlyn.”

“Ms. Arundel.”

“I’m sorry,” She adjusted her skirt, forcing the anger and tears down her throat by smiling gracefully, “Please go on.”

“As I was saying, I know transferring across half the country in the middle of your senior year may unsettling,” the principal continued, the appreciation in his voice now laced with a hint of impatience, “But I assure you, there is no need to be.”

“Thank you, Principal Hayes,” Kaitlyn nodded, putting a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing the discreetly ostensible round pearl earring, “To hear this from you offers me great relief.”

Relief my ass.

Every step Kaitlyn took toward the AP Calculus classroom, she felt as if she were Cersei Lannister in Games of Thrones, walking down atonement among stinking peasants of King’s Landing.

Some guys with their poorly arranged shirts smirked at her way, their lustful eyes gazing under her black skirt, while a group of girls whose laughter sounded like those horrendous traffic honking in downtown New York bumped the side of her shoulder, misplacing her expensive shirt.

She peeked back at the the group of girls. Fluorescent pants, their full breasts bouncing blatantly in their tops that served to enhance their youthful sexuality.

They would’ve been sent home, she scoffed, with a slight tilt of her brows, if only this was at the Trinity.

She sat herself in the corner of the first row instead of the centre where she wished to be. She liked attention. Especially the type of attention she receives effortlessly simply by dressing, walking and smiling they way she did. But something about placing in front of twenty ish hormonal teenagers unsettled her. Most importantly, the spot offered her opportunity to observe.

The teacher went on and on about the limit of a function, a notion she had leant in junior year, Kaitlyn’s gaze wandered subtly unnoticeably. One girl was the first of her subject of observation. The makeup on her face was smoky and bold, her winged eyeliner almost reached her brows. She, like almost other girl in East Highland High, wore a short tank top revealing her belly button and petite waist. Then, at least, her eyes finally landed on her breasts, again. They were plump, her round skin rubbed against each other and the rough texture of her top. They captured her attention uncontrollably.

She felt the sensation of her tight, black, push-up bra constraining her flesh like a 19th century corset.

But she loved Victorian corsets.

But it burnt, it hurt.

She returned her mind on the paper, but the image of their horrendous laughter and rude demeanour, the way their breasts bouncing freely and shamelessly played again and again.

Just as she breathed soothingly, preparing to drown herself in the world of mathematics once more, her eyes landed on Nate Jacobs.

Wearing a large blue hoodie, it was obvious in his eyes that his mind was filled with calculations beyond the math.

That night at the carnival, he touched her.

He dared to touch her.

“A lot of men would try to het their hands on a beautiful girl like you. You don’t want to find yourself in that kind of situation.”

Was that a threat?

Nate Jacobs was the image of an archetype she disdained: the arrogant jock, stupid and practically illiterate, actions dictated by sex hormones instead of the brain. Yet the way he spoke to her with the calm and charming mask he had worn , even later that night, the threatening way his gaze locked to that his girlfriend and the way he grabbed her for messing his pride…

For the first time in this dreadful school, Kaitlyn was excited. Among the hormonal driven teenagers, there was a wrestler.

An embodiment of physical strength and strategy.

To be frank, Nate Jacobs had occupied a portion of her mind. A disgust boiled in her stomach as Kaitlyn is recalled the unabashedly greedy look the faces of those pathletic and arrogant high school boys, but Nate Jacobs was everything she liked about men.

Kaitlyn Arundel had made a long mental checklist of the things she liked and disliked about men.

She liked white shirts, crisp and clean, but not the ones that hadn’t seen an iron in weeks.

She liked tall boys, but didn't mind the shorter ones as long as their bodies were in shape.

She hated unkempt appearances, but there was nothing on planet Earth she hated more than fat arms and a round belly.

She liked jeans, snug but not too tight.

She liked sweaters.

She liked confidence, but despised misplaced arrogance, the bluster without the backbone.

She never understood boys who wore makeup, felt it hid more than it showed.

It was one of the things she first noticed about Nate. His confidence didn't just show, it roared.

“Mr. Jacobs, please come with us.”

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Principal Hayes’ voice.

“Maddy fainted, and they found bruises on her neck,” a girl whispered to the person next to her.

“And they think that Nate did it!”

Kaitlyn immediately recalled the image of him dragging Maddy furiously away from the booth after she had called his mom the c word.

To Kaitlyn, the idea of Nate leaving those marks on Maddy wasn’t unsettling. If someone had humiliated her that publicly, she might not have drawn blood, but she'd certainly have sought revenge — maybe by obliterating her future.

An hour later.

“Ms. Arundel, do you consider Nate Jacobs to you a violent individual?”

“No, officer. Nate Jacobs is one of the few who had shown me kindness since my transition to a completely new environment. He is an honest, generous and kind person . I truly believe he wouldn’t do such a thing. He's just not that kind of person.”

Author’s note: after writing this chapter, I realized that her pov, perhaps, is more and disturbing and Nate pov chapters. Even I, the author, got a little disturbed while writing. I know there aren’t as much dramas in the these first two chapters, but I believe it’s essential to take the time to establish their worldviews and give a glimpse of their internal battles. Like Nate, there is a reason why Kaitlyn is the way she is. Her backstory will be explored. Thank you for reading!

Comment pls pls pls! Your comments mean everything to me!

Tag list: @dani-is-a-princess @wabi-sabi1090 @tember1

#euphoria #nate jacobs #nate jacobs x reader #nate jacobs fanfic #fanfic #rue bennett #nate jacobs x you #maddy perez #jules vaughn #jacob elordi

[moodywyrm]

book patrol

hello i am returned after months at war (college) my love for the tlou from middle school is back in full force and tlou2 is fucking me up so here's some sweet patrol content for Ellie in a world where the events of TLOU2 just don't happen. let her be happy ok. also that dealer Ellie thought I had is festering idk when I will write it but it’s there

Ellie Williams x Fem!Plus Size!Reader

WC: 2.5k

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Ellie was going to throttle Jesse – if she could manage to get out of bed first. He was pounding on her door with absolutely zero respect for the sanctity of sleep and a level of audacity only he could possibly possess.

Hauling herself out of bed and dragging a (questionably) clean pair of jeans up her bare legs, Ellie made her way to the door and yanked it open to reveal an irritatingly fresh-faced Jesse. He had all of his gear ready, dressed for the uncommonly warm Jackson weather.

“Rise and shine cupcake, we have patrol in, like, now. Tommy and Y/N are down at the stables already,” He said, leaning against the doorframe as Ellie put on a ratty pair of converse and pulled an old green flannel shirt over her tank top.

“I’m going, dickhead, you didn’t have to wake up the whole fucking neighborhood.”

“The whole neighborhood is already awake, so… ”

“Oh fuck you, let’s go.” Ellie scooped up her pack and locked the door behind her as Jesse lead them out, laughing as he went.

They kept pace, making their way through Jackson as the town got to work. Jesse looked over at Ellie and zoned in on her hyperfocused expression. “So, from what I’ve heard, you two are gonna go out to the town a bit farther west than usual while Tommy and I clear the area between here and there. The other patrols have already been sent out.”

“Cool - Wait, what? Why isn’t Tommy going out the farthest?”

“Because you and Y/N can handle it? Maria wants Tommy home early tonight for some reason, wouldn’t say why,” Jesse answered, guiding them towards the stables where Ellie could see Shimmer all geared up and ready to go. From on top of her own horse (affectionately named Leaf), Y/N was holding Shimmer’s reigns and talking to Tommy. When she spotted Ellie and Jesse approaching, a butterfly-inducing smile broke out on her face.

“Where have y’all been? It’s time to get going,” She chided, handing Ellie the reigns and turning towards the gate. Ellie hauled herself up onto Shimmer and followed after her, taking stock of the extra saddlebags on both of their horses. Jesse and Tommy followed close behind.

“This one woke up maybe ten minutes ago. Blame her.” Ellie glared at Jesse, letting it go when she heard Y/N snort.

The four of them trotted up to the gate, readying themselves for patrol. Tommy shifted slightly, addressing the group. “Alright, y’all head west past the usual checkpoint. You’ll hit a small town, ‘s mostly houses but there are a few shops. Clear any infected and gather what you can. Jesse and I’ll clear the area between here and there, y’all just ride through.”

“Be smart about it,” Jesse added, locking eyes with each girl, “Get back alive and safe.”

“You got it, dad,” Y/N quipped, sending the two men a genuine smile anyways.

Ellie caught herself staring at the soft roundness of her face, the curve of her smile, and the conviction it held. Taking one deep, grounding breath, she pulled her eyes away and turned to the men. “Alright, let’s head out.”

As they raced through Tommy and Jesse’s patrol zone – keeping the noise level to a minimum – Ellie couldn’t help but stare at Y/N, who had taken the lead on this route. Thick, soft thighs strained against tight denim jeans that Maria had altered for her, what with larger sizes being hard to come by. Ellie had seen those thighs more times than she could count, but they’d been haunting her thoughts for months now.

As of late, Ellie had caught herself thinking about her bestfriend more than usual. Obviously, she always worried about her – in the five years they’d known each other, they’d both experienced an insurmountable amount of traumatic events that would have scarred any nineteen-year-old, let alone the unreasonably burdened fourteen-year-olds they had been. In all that time, worrying about Y/N had become second nature for Ellie. Whatever was happening now was entirely different.

Now, her mind was filled with thoughts of soft curves and strong hands, incredible competence in all manners of survival – thanks to her unofficial adoptive father – contrasted with exceptional gentleness in Jackson’s library. A laugh that made her heart ache and a voice that could catch her attention from anywhere. It scared the absolute shit out of her, but Ellie was certain she was falling in love with her bestfriend – that is if she wasn’t already in love the entire time. The thought scared her so much, it pulled her out of her little reverie only to realize that Y/N was saying something.

“-okay, Ellie?”

“Huh? Shit, sorry, I wasn’t listening.” Y/N huffed out a laugh, slowing her pace just enough to fall beside Ellie. Ellie, in turn, tried really fucking hard not to stare at her thighs bouncing on the saddle.

“I noticed, I was asking if you’re okay?” She asked, sending Ellie a look of concern that totally didn’t manifest as a swarm of butterflies trying to escape her tummy.

“Yeah, was just thinking, ‘s all.”

“About what?”

Ellie let her eyes drop to her chest for a split second before snapping her head forward. “We’ve known each other for a while, still feels crazy that we’re almost twenty now.”

She tried so hard to not focus on the look of pure softness that swept over Y/N’s face but failed miserably.

“Yeah, feels like just yesterday I was getting scolded by Joel for teaching you how to shoot a pistol,” She smiled, glancing over at Ellie, “and now you’re almost as good a shot as me.”

“Oh well excuse me, not all of us had dads who happened to be fucking doomsday preppers.”

“Prepper, singular. Frank was never really like that – did teach me how to alter clothes like a pro, though. And excuse me, you have Joel, who is probably a way better shot than either of us, so, no excuses.”

“Oh haha, very funny, he didn’t even want to teach me for months,” Ellie commented, picking up the pace until they were both galloping towards the checkpoint.

They made idle chit-chat, trying not to make too much noise while passing through. Wouldn’t want to startle a bunch of infected before they even got to their official patrol area. A little less than an hour later, they strolled into the dilapidated town Joel and Tommy had found a few days prior. Ellie pulled Shimmer over to a beat-up metal fence, loosely tying her up while Y/N tied Leaf a few feet down.

Adjusting their packs and making sure all weapons were easily accessible, the two made their way to the first house. A broken-down old thing with two stories, would have been gorgeous in its time. Now, it was just a collection of punched-out walls and cracked support beams, peeling wallpaper and sagging furniture. Ellie could hear a familiar clicking, signaling for Y/N to stay quiet and put on her mask. She abided, following Ellie into the house through a hole in the door, careful to avoid any noisy detritus on the floor.

They crept through to the kitchen, pausing when they saw a hunched-over Clicker hobbling away from their location. Y/N listened in for a second, trying to sound out any clicking that wasn’t coming from this one. Deciding that it was a loner, she signaled a ‘one’ to Ellie, who crept up behind the infected, wrenched its head back with a firm grip on the fungal face plates and pushed her switchblade into its exposed neck, and pulled. Y/N kept watching behind her, taking note of the straining muscle of Ellie’s forearms, fully on display as she lowered the struggling Clicker to the floor.

“Think that’s the only one in here,” She murmured, moving away from the corpse and listening for infected.

“Mhm. Check for any supplies and regroup.”

Systematically, they moved from house to house, clearing infected and gathering supplies. Every now and then Ellie would send Y/N back to the horses to fill up the saddlebags, keeping an eye on her the entire time.

Two hours later, sore and covered in bruises, they’d cleared all but one store at the far end of the main road. The girls made their way down the street after one last supply run to the horses, trying to seem less exhausted than they were. Ellie tried – and failed – to hide her injuries, courtesy of the runner that slammed her into a kitchen counter. Anyone else – except for Joel – would have completely missed the wince in each step Ellie took, but not Y/N.

“Want me to take a look at that? Or do you want to wait until we clear this place?” She asked, shifting so that Ellie’s injured side was between them, no longer exposed to the rest of their surroundings.

“Ah, uh, I can wait. Thank you, though,” Ellie said softly, smiling at her friend. The smile she got in return made her nerves fizzle.

Moving round to the back of the store, they spotted the back door hanging on by a single hinge. They shared a cautious look, hands on their weapons and ready for a fight. Ellie entered first, crawling through the opening made by the ill-fated door and immediately turning to help Y/N in.

Right as both girls stood up, a screech came from their left and a Clicker slammed into Y/N, knocking her down and trying to claw at her. She slammed a broken pipe against its neck, keeping her hands away from its mouth and pushing with all her strength. Claws caught against her shoulders dulled stings erupting beneath the cotton of her shirt. Leveraging all her weight against the Clicker, she managed to flip them over and pin it down with the bar.

As if on autopilot, Ellie crouched down while pulling out her switchblade, slamming it into the Clicker’s neck and wiggling it in for good measure. The second it stopped moving, Y/N recoiled from the body and leaned into the wall, chest heaving.

Neither of them spoke for a moment, letting their hearts return to a normal pace before Ellie looked up.

Standing to face her, Ellie gently grabbed her friend’s arms and scanned all visible areas for bite marks. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay. Just a couple of scratches, but, no bites.”

Ellie’s eyes snapped up, searching for confirmation on her face. When she deemed everything relatively stable, she sighed and let go.

“I’m gonna go ahead and assume that he was the only one in here since we’re not being fucking stormed.”

“A fair assumption, but be careful anyways.”

“You got it, princess.”

“Fuck you.”

The familiar rhythm of their banter calmed Ellie down exponentially, standing to her full height and gently nudging Y/N out of the way so she could open the door for them. The door gave way with little resistance, leading into a room that made both girls pause.

Bookshelves lined every wall, with rows of shelves covering most of the main floor. Vines crept in from the broken windows, claiming some of the shelves, but for the most part, the books looked shockingly well preserved. Crooked signs dangled from the ceiling, marking all the genres this little store used to sell.

Ellie stood gobsmacked in the doorway until Y/N guided her inside, immediately heading for a shelf for spectacularly intact fantasy novels. The top and bottom shelves were more or less molded, but the middle three were dry enough that she started rifling through the books to see if she could take any back.

Snapping out of her momentary shock, Ellie drifted past Y/N, scooting behind her with a light hand on her waist. Not that she noticed the way her friend tensed up or the heat that rushed up her neck. No, Ellie’s attention was completely captured by the science fiction shelf which included plastic-wrapped copies of Savage Starlight comics alongside plenty of novels. The softest little “holy shit” escaped her mouth as she picked out the volumes she didn’t have.

Y/N looked over, cracking a smile at the childlike wonder on Ellie’s face. It’d been too long since she’d last seen it. “Having fun there?”

Ellie snapped her head up, and the look she sent Y/N made her heart go so fucking weird she had to take a deep breath.

“I’ve never seen so many in-tact copies in one place. And all these books? It’s a fucking miracle…”

“Haven’t had this much luck with books since … never, I guess.” Y/N had squatted down next to Ellie, staring at the salvageable lower shelves. Looking down, Ellie flushed at their positions and pulled her eyes away from strong thighs and soft arms.

“We should bring the horses over, load ‘em up for the library.” Even though Ellie was definitely gonna snatch most of these comics and some of the sci-fi novels for herself, the smile she got from Y/N made her profusely grateful for her flash of charity.

“Good idea, but I am totally snatching some of these for myself,” She said, slinging her backpack off and returning to the fantasy shelf she started at. So maybe charity wasn’t top priority. Ellie laughed and followed suit, stuffing her backpack with five new volumes of Savage Starlight and a handful of novels.

By the time the girls had loaded up the horses with all the books they could safely carry, their arms felt like complete jelly. Once they’d both safely mounted Shimmer and Leaf, Y/N looked over at Ellie and sighed.

“Fuck, I am so excited to get back home and just read,” She smiled, trying not to focus on Ellie’s face being backlit by the sun, the slope of her nose, the soft curve of her cheek. Ellie turned to face her, the sun spreading out like a halo behind her.

“You could come over tonight, have a reading party?” She sounded so hopeful and so goddamn cute that Y/N had to stifle an adoring whine.

“Yeah, that’d be nice. I’ll even grab us some food from Maria’s.”

“Or I could cook for us? Contrary to popular belief I am allowed around a stove,” Ellie offered, leading them toward the path back to Jackson. She could’ve sworn she heard Y/N choke right after she said that, but it must’ve just been her imagination.

“Careful Ellie, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were asking me on the nerdiest date in the world.” Now it was Ellie’s turn to cough, turning her face to hide the blush.

After a deep, steadying breath, she managed to answer, “And what if I am?” Y/N’s pause made her heart nearly stop, but her response practically jumpstarted it.

“Then it’s a date,” She murmured, smiling at Ellie, “now, let’s get back to Jackson.”

“Yes ma’am.”

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

I hope y'all enjoyed that!! pls like and reblog if you can, it is always greatly appreciated :) have a wonderful day or night <3

#ellie x fem reader #ellie williams #ellie tlou #tlou2 #tlou part 2 #plus size reader #chubby reader #Ellie x chubby reader #Ellie Williams x reader #Ellie williams x reader fluff #tlou2 fluff

[lagncx]

ugly?!

( hi…so you know I’m not a good writer please don’t go back and look if you're new but I came back and here I am with fruits for you people. I think you should know I’m not fully educated in the world of AOT. This is supposed to be post-war Levi so apologies if everything is wrong or something. The reader is kinda something I came up with a long time ago cause I’m such a creative person…it’s stupid but you're a titan shifter in a way however yours is a wolf form..please don’t ask it just fits in with your character in this but u are a female my readers tend to be confident and dorky especially when I do one for Levi. You're taller. And yea please enjoy)

You sighed and cut your hair in the bathroom of your shared room. It was late and you tried to keep it quiet for Levi so he could rest but your dumbass made the cup Levi kept for his daily pills fall “ah shit.” You put the cup back on the counter and your eyes saw that pale face in the mirror peaking in the doorway “your home late.” You heard Levi softly say his face emotionless, his good eye looked at you and you could see a little red. “Levi..have you been crying-“Before you could finish Levi’s eyes gazed upon you looking into your eyes that showed nothing but concern, his eyes glossy, that milky white eye shining like a Pearl. “Do you…think I’m ugly?” You almost thought he was joking but those eyes spoke millions of words in just one moment. “Of course not my love. Why would you ask such a thing?” Levi winced in pain, his body was sore “You pushed yourself hard at recovery therapy again?” Levi shook his head as he rubbed the back of his neck groaning his eyes closed tight. “No…I was observing the new one's training and I-…” he looked down “went to go workout to see if I could even stay fit and guess I just hurt myself in the middle of kickboxing.” You crossed your arms “Levi you can’t put pressure on your body! You still have a long way off-“ “Of what?!” He snapped his eyes snapped to you piercing you and making you close your mouth like a force “That ‘therapy’ makes me feel like a fucking vegetable I feel shitty always standing to the side trying to instruct inexperienced fighters to fight without fucking being able to show them how by doing it” he cursed as he grabbed his hair in his fist’s breathing heavy panicking and you felt your heart sting your poor baby you couldn’t even imagine how it must feel you gently but firmly grabbed both of his wrists “breathe baby…let go. It’s okay to be upset but don’t hurt yourself okay? Easy…” your voice was gentle barely a whisper Levi had these attacks a lot now you could only form that they came cause of his fears of not being able to live like normal people or do things but Levi was just naturally anxious his grip on his hair stayed but your fingers slithered their way on top of his hands from his wrists which from the cold of your hands made his grip loosen “come on baby.” Levi let go of his hair pulling away from you almost as if he was embarrassed. “Come on…let’s-…go to the mess hall kitchen. I know they're a cup of tea that’ll love to accompany your belly~” you said in a sweet tone. Levi stayed silent, his face was his resting bitch face and he just made way for you to leave the bathroom with “your hair.” You heard Levi say behind you his fingers reaching to graze the undone section “Oh-…hm who knows maybe I’ll leave it just trimmed on one side. Kinda sexy.” You chuckled as you stepped out the room door Levi was close behind but silence ‘Not even gonna make insults to my stupidity…that bad huh?’ You thought as you and Levi walked through the dark halls lit by the moon “About the…ugly thing why ask me about that?” You looked down as you walked, him to your side, his hands resting at his sides, making his steps almost hauntingly silent compared to your combat boots leaving your heavy impression on the wood panel floors. It was super crazy to you how you and Levi got together. You two were the opposite. “I…was eavesdropping on a conversation during training. So maybe I shouldn’t have taken it to heart knowing it was my bad and they were new so I-“ “Levi.” Your voice called out to him your arm holding open the door to the mess hall for him, Levi walked in “Thank you. But they-…”

——Earlier——

Levi sighed in relief as one of the recruits finally got the takedown almost flawlessly “Good. We can work more on your confidence later. Till then- Chores!” Levi yelled to the other groups some nodded and some groaned and complained and Levi just blew a laugh through his nose as he headed to the horse stables almost turning into the doors till he heard a familiar name…yours “I mean…she’s amazing and so strong. But…Levi, he’s the total opposite” Two girls were cleaning the pens for both Levi and your horse so he sees why the topic of conversation could turn to you two but Levi didn’t care much he could give two shits about what the gossip was in your relationship cause it was yours and not anybody else’s he was gonna step in to interrupt their conversation with a smart remark but then “I mean it's sad she has to wake up to that sight” Levi’s feet halted, his eyes went from an unbothered look to a look of terror ‘The hell?! The fuck do they mean’ Levi struggled in his head debating whether to confront or listen “I mean…those scars, his hand…or that eye…it’s almost like a dying cow” said the girl wiping her forehead “he’s hideous and just how can he satisfy her needs or we'll give her a family” Levi swallowed the spit hoping to push the lump in his throat he took a step back disappearing.

——now And I don't know…it's just been lingering in my mind.” The world was silent except for the piping and creaky wooden structures of the building. Levi looked up through his hair seeing you glare at the tea kettle, your jaw was clenched and your breathing uneven but not loud almost like you wanted blood. “ Y/n…they were girls just gossip I shouldn't get so worked up” Levi walked up to you, his hand sliding up your arm now you needed to be comforted…no, You needed to be calmed. “love?” he whispered now fully in front of you looking up at you his hand caressing your face you simply leaned into his hand sighing softly Levi jumped from the feeling of your hand caressing his back then his… other hands the one Levi was worried about when it came to you but you gently took it putting it on your chest giving Levi a look before bringing it up for a kiss it was a conversation without words the sound of your lips on his skin the sensation communicated Love. “I'm sorry they said those things. They'll regret it.” Levi sighed “No need to do that my love let us just head to bed after the tea is done” he pleaded hoping you'd come to your senses but your eyes were dark staring into nothing like you were looking through him.

Levi smiled as the tea soothed and warmed him. You made it exactly how he liked it…you remembered, holding it gently as you both made it up to your room that was until you stopped “What is it?” Levi could read you like a book feeling your suspicious aura as he looked in your direction hearing faint giggling and whispers “Shhh be quiet they might hear us sneaking a drink!” Levi's eyes went wide and looked at you as the two girls turned the corner “That's them..” You shared a look with him before putting on a smile and stepping forward purposefully loudly crossing your arms and making the girls jump “Hello new gals! It's inappropriate to be out this hour. Sure do hope you both have a good explanation” The girls straightened up “Y/N! Captain Levi! We were just uh-..” the girl trailed off and her friend who you knew as Ava stepped forward “Some night food we got hungry." Ava said as she smiled at you “Hm…I see. Be on your way” You stepped to the side pulling Levi along though he was ready to confront the girls, lecturing him there was something in your grip that told him quietly as they walked in front of you both your voice was a cold stern tone “Wait a second.” The girls jumped and stopped turning to face you. Levi looked at you and your eyes were closed “I'm hoping you know me and Levi are together don't you?” you asked, “Yes of course!” Said Ava with a smile “So you know he means a lot to me if not the whole world? Yes?” the girls nodded sharing glances you opened your eyes your face pushing intimidation and rage

“So how do you think I should handle those with the balls to ever? Disrespect him after he has done so much for us?”

Levi looked at the girls who looked at Levi in terror “S-sir. Were so-” you stepped in front of Levi “You did not. Answer my question, but I know how you both can make it up to Levi” you walked between the girls as you placed a hand on their shoulders and whispered “kneel.” They shook and hesitated only a moment and kneeled “Good, now Bow your heads and apologize” You sneered at the girls and they apologized to Levi. You looked up at him “Satisfied? Or do they need a bit more of a push?” You raised a brow to Levi who shook his head “Enough. Both of you return to your rooms. y/n…stop it.” You sighed standing straight pulling the girls up by their shirts and smiling “See you gals at breakfast bye bye!!” You laughed pushing them off as they hurried on their own back around the corner. You smiled at Levi who glared at you and scoffed, his voice insulting your “childish behavior.” He turned and headed up the stairs towards your shared room struggling slightly but didn’t accept your help and you pouted. Levi stopped catching his breath, you sighed pushing yourself up behind him, arms wrapping around his stomach “I’m sorry babe, It wasn’t my place.” You massaged his hip making him hiss but relax in some sort of relief “I’m upset that you had to defend me…when I’m a grown man.” Levi played with your fingers, sighing tiredly “I should’ve called them out…instead, I asked if you thought I was ugly when I knew you’d say no'' You inhaled Levi's scent “When we get up there can we…” Levi whispered and avoided finishing the sentence but “Oh my Levi don't tell me my touch has got you excited~” you giggled before feeling the stinging pain of levis nail pinching a vein in your hand which your laughs turned into screams “Asshole you know what I meant!” Levi snarled you whimpered looking at the bruise on your hand as you both continued up the stairs “for a vegetable you're still like you…cruel.” you rubbed your booboo “but I know what you meant…we can finish that book. But I don’t know why you like me reading it.” You shrugged and you both made it to the door “Your voice…soothes me.” Levi said looking at his hand on the knob “helps me sleep…you know how little I get. Even worse when I feel sore…” he opened the door and you both walked in “But if you don’t want to read to me…that’s okay.” He rubbed his shoulders it was always chilly in your guy's room. Seeing Levi’s clothes tighten around him as he held himself made your face hot “did you know you have a banging hot bod?” You said Levi turned to you and glared “The hell?! Can you stop being such a shitty-ass therapist!!” You laughed as Levi threw the book at you and you caught it. You looked at Levi who had a small smile. Levi was always conscious about you and him and space when he wanted you to touch him, where, how, why. But since being together he’s been more open not having to ask and right now you were so close “You’re so beautiful my Pearl…” you said looking down into Levi’s eyes your empty hand on his hips pulling him gently into you earning a rewarding sigh of approval from him “your not getting any tonight you know?” Levi said smiling at you “Awe dang well guess I’ll throw in the towel” you joked sharing a kiss with him “I love you” you said to him and he replied with an “Me too.” Which meant a lot Never have you seen a more beautiful painting of a man than the one in front of you

#fanfiction #writing #levi ackerman #levi aot #levi x reader #relationship #fanfic #x female reader #fluff #attack on titan

[blurglesmurfklaine]

Stick Season (9/14)

Summary: After Finn dies, Kurt leaves everything he knows behind without a trace. His hometown, his family, his boyfriend. When his dad has a medical scare, he returns to Lima, one year after breaking Blaine’s heart with no explanation.

A non-chronological series of one shots and drabbles set in this universe

Tropes/Genres: Angst, Reconciliation, Grief, Alcoholism, Mentions of Major Character Death, Mental Health

Track 1: Northern Attitude // Day 9: Same Old Country Song

Words: 1162

Kurt has forgotten how to be a fucking human being, apparently.

He wants Blaine, loves Blaine, never stopped loving Blaine. Kurt wants him close so dearly, but can’t help except push him away. It’s infuriating.

He wants what they used to have, the waves of security that washed over Kurt whenever he was nestled safely in Blaine’s arms. He wants the laughter shared through inside jokes, like how Let’s have a Star Wars marathon actually meant Let’s dip and go make out in your room. Kurt wants everything to go back to the way it was, but that isn’t possible.

He’s not the person he used to be. There’s been efforts on his part, to get back to who he was before bitterness jaded him into the cynic he is today. He quit drinking, and though he’s fallen off the wagon a few times, it’s been nearly half a year since his last sip. A few stumbles, however, were to be expected when he didn’t really stop to better himself, but out of guilt and shame. 

If you were to put shame into a petri dish and shove it into the dark and damp crevasses of your mind, anxiety would grow on it like a deadly fungus. Everyone thinks that only depressed people turn to the bottle, but Kurt’s nerves prove otherwise. A coping mechanism is a coping mechanism even if you think you’re just a kid who gets a little too nervous in large crowds. It’s a coping mechanism when you think you’re just having fun with some friends. It’s a coping mechanism when you take a sip because you’re stressed about school, and wake up face down on your boyfriend's lawn.

It’s a coping mechanism even when you insist it isn’t.

He’s changing. He’s trying. Fuck, is he trying.

But what if it’s not enough? 

What if, after the last year, Kurt’s soul is missing the shine that was there before grief dulled it? Blaine would be foolish to want him back when he’s this broken.

If Kurt gets too close and he isn’t how Blaine remembers—how he hopes—he’d have every right to just up and walk away. Kurt can’t even forgive himself, how can he expect Blaine to forgive the old attitude he’s adopted after spending a year in the dark?

So why the hell is he here, standing out in the cold and staring at Blaine’s familiar figure, playing the guitar through the frosted windows of the Paper Tiger? 

He’s in the middle of a set, so Kurt is able to sneak in without distracting him, feeling the winter chill thaw, like just being around Blaine lights a fire in him.

He plays some cover about gay cowboys that Kurt can’t help but smile at. The crowd is a little less receptive, but not angry or outraged, which honestly is about as much progress as Kurt could have ever hoped for.

Blaine looks so happy, so in his element here. Despite what he may think, from what Kurt can see, he’s better off without him. 

He should leave. Again. Go farther this time, and maybe he won’t be such a nuisance, such an unpleasant disruption to Blaine’s healing process. What the hell is Kurt even doing here, in a bar, when he's feeling so, so anxious and there are so many people and they’re all drinking around him and god, he wishes that were him, he wishes he could just have one drink—just one, and maybe the raging fire scalding his nerves would be doused for even just a seco—

“Alright, so, I know you guys usually like my covers of the classics.”

Blaine’s voice cuts through all the noise, and for the first time in too long, the static in Kurt’s brain is silenced. 

“But, uh… I’m gonna play something original for you tonight. It’s a really special song to me. It uh, started off as an anniversary present that I never got to give, and over the past year has morphed into something totally different and unexpected but uh… You know what? I think I’ll shut up and just sing for you.”

When the audience’s laughter settles, Blaine starts plucking at his guitar’s strings, and Kurt prepares himself for the worst. Sure he’s about to bear the brunt of all the anger and confusion he’d caused in Blaine’s life. Leaving lima, then showing up at his house. Their conversation at Sam’s party, and Kurt leaving. Again. 

Kurt forces himself to stay, smothering the cowardly little voice in his mind that wants so terribly to leave. He should hear what Blaine has to say, even if it hurts.

You try covering the cracks in your walls with paint But I love staring at them so beautifully shaped Everyday I wish you’d see what I could see And your hand in mine fits so perfectly

I’ll never want a new lease I’ll never trade you in You’re the home that I want Perfectly imperfect

I’ll come home to you I’ll come home to you

Even though you’re gone I’ll leave the light on Hopefully you can see The path back to me

I’ll never want a new lease I’ll never trade you in You’re the home that I want Perfectly imperfect

I’ll come home to you I’ll come home to you

You try covering the cracks in your walls with paint But I love staring at them so beautifully shaped

It’s not what Kurt expected, and he swallows down the lump in his throat. He’ll be damned if he breaks down in the middle of a bar full of strangers.

Watching Blaine pack up his set, Kurt pulls out his phone and goes to his recents, knowing all the calls he’s been dodging from Blaine will be at the top.

“Hello?”

“Blaine?” 

On the other side of the room, Blaine freezes, and Kurt’s heart goes still. “Hi.”

“Hi…” He repeats dumbly. Because he’s an idiot. He’s forgotten how to human. Still, he hasn’t forgotten how to love Blaine. That’s something etched into his heart forever. “You at Paper Tiger?”

“Yeah, just finishing up, actually.”

“How did your set go?”

“About as well received as it can be in a town like this. No one heckled me to try and play Wonderwall, so, progress.”

Kurt can’t help but let out a small chuckle. “I really liked that last one,” He finally admits. “The one about home being a person.”

Blaine smiles, and even if there’s a trace of sadness behind it, Kurt’s heart swells. “Thanks… Full disclosure, uh, you’re the inspiration on that one.” He pauses, apparently barely processing Kurt’s words. “Wait. What do you mean you liked it?”

“Turn around.”

Blaine turns around in a flash, dropping his phone from his ear to his side and staring in awe.

Kurt swallows. “Hi… again.”

“Hi.”

“Can we talk?”

#SORRY THIS GOT KINDA LONG #klaine #glee #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #klaine fanfiction #stick season #klainevalentines2023 #wow look at me im writing!

[nepobabyeurydice]

A Kite Stuck By Lightning

Sally relives a memory, Hades wishes that Poseidon would go back to choosing the pretty idiot ones.

On AO3

The memory is old and half-faded, but it’s what solidified her marriage to Gabriel.

It begins with a trip to the park. Percy’s mouth slathered with mint chocolate ice cream because it was the closest approximation to blue ice cream. His blue eyes are wide as he takes in the people and the noise.

It’s a clear, windy day in the middle of spring, the sun is shining, the chill doesn’t deep through her jeans and Percy’s been eyeing the kites since they got here. 

What’s the harm? Sally had thought then. No one knows. It’s been six years and no one has figured it out yet.

It was just a kite.

Then the lightning hit it. It seared through the paper of the kite and slammed into the dirt with a vicious fury, and it was only Percy’s quick reflexes that saved him from being injured.

Sally froze for a moment, numb.

It was just a kite.

It was just a kite.

And all Zeus had to do was throw a single bolt and burn Percy into ash. He had just shown he could do that with a fucking kite.

.x.

“That’s enough,” a voice says and Sally gasps as she hits the floor. She doesn’t look up, Poseidon had warned her to never look up unless she was certain that the god was already in mortal form.

Her heart thuds in her ears, her cheeks feel wet from the tears she had probably let loose. 

“Look at me, mortal.” the voice says and Sally knows with absolute certainty who it is. “How dare you send your son to steal my helm.”

Sally looks up and regrets it immediately since her first thought is he would make an excellent redemption bait for my protagonist.

This, she’s been informed by one of her friends in Sweet America after she caught Sally staring at a distinctly shabby man going by Fred that Sally itched to make a mentor figure for her character, was not normal.

But it worked like a coping mechanism right now so who was Sally to stop what was keeping her from having a hysterical breakdown?

“Percy has done nothing wrong.” Sally says, and it’s by some miracle her voice doesn’t crack. “He could’ve never made it from one side of the Hudson to the other without getting expelled.”

“LIAR!” Hades roars and he paces like a caged lion. Souls writhe in his robes and Sally wonders what awful crimes must have you committed to be in his underpants. Or worse, what type of lover you were to him. She pulls a face of disgust at the thought.

“He has stolen something from me and if you don’t tell me where it is before the summer solstice I will stop Death.” Hades threatens. “I have no use for my brother’s lover if that is the case.”

Sally takes a deep breath, the air smells like decay and pomegranates, but somehow she swears she smells ozone. Maria di Angelo, she recalls abruptly, the conversation she had had with Poseidon all those years ago swollen with Percy coming to mind, had been killed by the Master Bolt. 

“He was six,” Sally begins and Hades whips around to stare. “When Zeus made his first threat. He struck Percy’s kite with lightning with enough force it should’ve killed him. Other times, eagles have appeared on his window when he’s in boarding school, they cut through the scent Gabriel offers. I’ve been married to that horrible, ugly man for six years in some vain hope I will never let my baby boy go. And now you tell me my Perseus stole something from the gods?”

“You do not understand the lengths a son will go to please his father.” Hades replies, eyes intense and perhaps mad with the destruction he had witnessed throughout the centuries. “Poseidon is charming and—”

Sally shoots up to her feet ignoring the voice screaming in her head. “I have raised a good boy. I don’t understand what else Olympus and the Underworld want me to do! Percy is sweet and caring and loyal. All I want for him is a happy ending and this war won’t give it to him. Why in the world would he do such a thing? Why would my son, not Poseidon’s, mine, do such a thing when sometimes I swear the only thing he hates more than Gabriel is his father?”

Hades snarls, truly snarls like a dog on a chained to a post in the streets of New York, and Sally flinches back, but she doesn’t stand down. She closes her eyes half-mast in preparation of what’s to come.

“We will see.” Hades says instead and Sally’s eyes pop open as he vanishes into the shadows.

We will see, she thinks as a crystalline substance forms over her body, sealing her inside of it. She doesn’t panic, she knows better than to panic at a time like this. We will see.

Once, there was a kite, and the kite was struck by lightning. One could not begin to imagine how many choices were begotten out of that simple moment. If you ask Sally Jackson for the answer you’d get in reply: more than you can ever imagine.

Percy Jackson will never learn of this. He doesn’t have to, all he has to do is rescue his mother and go home like his namesake before him. 

#sally jackson #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #hades #my writing

[x-authorship-x]

🗣️ (is this an excuse to hear you possibly talk more about shisui? Why yes it is 🤣)

Hey Ara--a ☺️

Lmao I'll talk your ear off if you let me, be warned 🤭

So if it's Shisui you're looking for (not hard when it comes to me 🥴)... I get a lot of ideas, not all of them are more than an errant though, so I like to write them all down in this massive bulletpoint list of ideas. Most of these will never see the light of day (or AO3) so I have no worries about spilling the details on one of them! So, if anyone gets fiendishly attached...rip to you 😅 it's only written out with a vague chapter plan but oh well~

So this is another Time Travel Fic where, as soon as Shisui awakens his Mangekyou at 8 years old, he freaks the fuck out and accidentally activates it whilst desperately wishing to "get home", picturing the Hokage monument... Only to land smack bang in the middle of the Senju brothers breakfast 🤣

Note: the idea of using Kotoamatsukami to time travel is something I've explored in And All The Stars Seemed Closer, as it questions how Shisui would intimately know what a technique he has never ever used could do or how to use it

Shisui is only saved from Tobirama immediately skewering him by Hashirama begging that Shisui is a panicking little kid.... that they can use to barter Uchiha peace, especially when Shisui freaks out that No He's Not Here To Kill Senju! ... He's taken as a prisoner of war, they send a missive to the Uchiha Clan saying that the child assassin failed and they will tear out his mangekyou Sharingan if the Uchiha don't submit to the senju (cue the Uchiha Compound exploding).

Hashirama is distraught and Tobirama, whilst trying to harden himself, can feel Shisui's terror and longing for home in his chakra signature. Hashirama is caught trying to heal him (Shisui Time Traveled from the deaths of his Genin Team after all) so is barred from the holding cells and begs Tobirama to go in his stead.

Cue very slow bonding moments where Tobirama begins to soften because Shisui's chakra is nothing but shining with sincerity and Tobirama might be a Shinobi but he's also so so soft to children. Shisui tells him about time travel, about the future and his feral devotion to peace and bawls his eyes out over his dead Genin Team and never seeing his baby cousin, Itachi, again, and Tobirama thinks he's crazy or trapped in a genjutsu or trying to trap Tobirama but.... His chakra is never anything but painfully honest and Tobirama... He begins to suspect....

Meanwhile, with the Uchiha, Madara and izuna go on a *insert scooby doo chase sound effect* headhunt for the mysterious Uchiha kid that no one seems to be related to but has the (mangekyou?!) eyes from their mother's side of the Uchiha family... Tajima is frothing at the mouth that the senju might have an Mangekyou held hostage so sends Izuna to confirm the reports whilst Madara attacks from the from and draws attention. Hashirama meets Madara head on, managing to convey between blows that he wants to help Shisui and how he's been barred from seeing him... Meanwhile, Izuna has found the cells but is met with an enraged Tobirama with a katana and, before he's forced to flee, Izuna manages to glimpse Shisui's wide baby eyes before Tobirama chases him out of the compound.... 🤭

Tobirama & Shisui are strictly platonic-familial, ironic because I know I literally talked yesterday about Shisui/Tobirama romance but it's called being multifaceted

So yeah! I didn't post the ending of the fic, this is just a very long premise lmao, because I do have a chapter plan worked out but... Will I ever write it properly? 🤷 Who knows, certainly not me lol

Thanks for playing!

#torship #torship talks #ask #ara--a #shisui #ask game

[annebaneriddle]

Time travel prompt (crackish)

We all know that wangxian would have lots of kids (could be adopted, could be biological vial WWX taking “impossible” as a personal challege, whatever you prefer). So, imagine wangxian with 12 fucking children, from 20-something years old Sizhui down to a months old baby girl.

One day, some of the youngest find their way inside WWX’s office (and by “office” I mean “a little house some meters away from the Jingshi, which LWJ had built so WWX could work on his inventions without any danger of their house being set on fire by accident”). Sizhui, who had took a day off to play with his baby siblings, notice that 4 of the little ones had dissapeared and instantly knows they went to the office to find WWX.

Well, WWX isn’t there, but his inventions are, and Heaven knows the kind of things he has stored there.

Sizhui goes to retrieve his runnaways baby siblings, the rest of the little ones in tow because like hell he will trust all of them to stay put and not put themselves in a situation. When he gets inside the office, he doesn’t have time to stop one of baby brothers before he touch one of the talisman prototypes.

Cut to the past (could be the past of their own reality, or from another reality, you can decide), during one of the war meetings of the Sunshot Campaign. Sect leader Yao is testing everyone’s patience, as always, LXC trying to keep everyone calm, JC rolling his eyes at people’s idiocy, NMJ yelling, LWJ already gave up trying to pay attention on what’s going on and is thinking about ways of tying to convince WWX to go back to Gusu with him, and WWX is thinking about how that meeting is a waste of time and about how he wishes he was anywhere but there.

Suddenly, a bright light shines out of thin air, and everyone freaks out thinking they’re under attack. The light dims and everyone see that now, on the middle of the room, there are 12 young Lan disciples (we all know WWX would automatically exclaim “Baby Lans!”, because tiny baby Lans with their tiny white and blue robes and their tiny forehead ribbons are one of his biggest weaknesses).

There are lots of questioning, especially since neither LXC nor LWJ have ever seen these disciple (all 12 of them are using the clan forehead ribbon, not the white one the outer disciples use, therefore they are from the Lan clan, not only the Lan sect). It takes some time for them to believe the newcomers are really from the future (Sizhui whisper-hums wangxian.mp3 to LWJ, and LWJ says that yes, they’re really from the future).

However, LSZ humming wangxian.mp3 makes LWJ ask him how he learned that music, and LSZ reveals he is LWJ’s son (LXC, on the background: I HAVE A NEPHEW???) and that LWJ used to sing it to him as a lullaby, and that makes one of the sect leaders ask about the parentage of the other 11 Lans. When that happens, one of the younger children says they’re all from the main family line.

NMJ: So, how many of you are Wangji’s children and how many of you are Xichen’s?

Everyone, surprised that the Twin Jades would have so many children, and eager to find out which one of them have the most: 👀👀👀

Wangxian’s 7th child: What do you mean? Lan Xichen is our uncle. We’re all Lan Wangji’s children.

Everyone, having a mind blow because LWJ, the cultivation world’s official fuddy-duddy, will father 12 fucking children: 🤯🤯🤯

LXC, having the time of his life knowing he will have 12 niblings: 🥳🥳🥳

WWX, trying to figure out why he is sad that LWJ will marry someone else: 😕🤔🧐🤨

#mdzs #mo dao su zhi #the grandmaster of demonic cultivation #the untamed #mdzs fanfiction #fanfic prompt #time travel au

[axels-corner]

The plague

Notes: What if Tam had tried to warn the Wildwood colony about the plague? This is based off of page 446 of Neverseen when Tam told Sophie about two councilors visiting the Wildwood colony, but what if he wasn't telling the whole story? This was based of a prompt I got from this prompt generator. The prompt was so far, the disease had cropped up in five different towns. and it inspired me to write this.

Characters: Tam Song, Linh Song, councilor Terik, councilor Oralie, and Sophie is mentioned at the beginning.

Warnings: cursing

Words: 878

So far, the disease had cropped up in five different towns. The council still said there was no reason to worry. Tam knew better. He tried to warn the gnomes of the Wildwood colony but they just told him that it was probably nothing. Anybody else would've believed them but Tam knew better, he saw the worry the gnomes hid every time they asked about it. So when two councilors suspiciously appeared in the woods talking about how they could never find out he followed them. He knows he told Sophie that he didn't but, well he had just met her, why should he trust her with the real story. Plus she seemed to have some kind of connection to the council, she looked weirdly similar to Oralie. Plus would she have even believed him? Even Linh was skeptical.

So he followed the councilors into the night he heard them talking about drakostomes whatever those where, he got close enough to see that one was a guy with curly brown hair holding a circlet with a green gem in the center. He was running a hand through his hair facing a women with long ringlets of blond hair a pink stone shining in the middle of her forehead from her circlet.

“This isn't goo - threating war – ty restri – the plauge.” Tam was far away so he couldn't make out all of what the guy was saying, but what he could hear and decipher. He realized that it meant that the council knew the plague was a possibility, they knew the ogres started it, and that they were doing nothing to help.

How dare they? After all the gnomes had done for them. After everything, he already didn't have a high opinion of the council after they banished his sister but this, this worsened his opinion of them even more.

He tried to get closer to make out the rest of what they were were saying. He wanted to know the whole story. Only problem was he was so focused on his anger that he wasn't paying attention to the ground and-

Crack!

Stepped right onto a stick. Fan fucking tastic. Just his luck.

The councilors whipped around

"Who's there!" The man shouted waving a melder around like a child that just got out on the last day of Foxfire would wave around mallowmelt.

"Show yourself!" The woman shouted as well back to back with the man also holding a melder. And of course they had to have melders because the night wasn't eventful enough, just the cherry on top the top of a big ice cream mountain of shitty luck over the years. Though he doubted they knew how to use them considering their well, councilors they seem to always be hiding in their castles, or behind their goblin bodyguards, oblivious to the citizens they were supposed to be ruling.

"I don't like this Oralie I feel like we're being watched" the woman- Oralie, huh he thought she was the innocent one apparently not, nodded

"I agree let's return to the rest of the council” and with that they disappeared in a bright flash.

Great.

His one lead for this plague vanished at of thin air because of a stupid fucking mistake. But he had overheard them. Maybe it wasn't the giant reveal he wished it was but, well you don't always get what you want in life. He and Linh were living proof of that. But his messed up life aside this proves that the council knew about the plague, which was horrible. He didn't like the twelve but the gnomes trusted them.

Oh goodness.

He had to warn the gnomes. He just hoped he wasn't too late.

The next morning he brought the subject up at breakfast the gnomes all told him that he just had an overreacting imagination. Even the leader of the Wildwood colony told him that he was letting his fear and mistrust of the council blind him. And that underneath everything they've done their still good people. Then told him to run along. Tam just nodded and leaped to exillium with his sister.

But underneath his surface there was a fire burning inside.

Because it was bullshit.

All.

Of.

It.

Bullshit.

And just because the gnomes and even Linh didn't believe him he knew what he saw.

He knew what he heard.

The next week all the gnomes in Wildwood had been hospitalized. When he and Linh questioned the emissaries there they just waved he and Linh off, or told them they don't have time for problem children.

Because that's all people thought they were “problem children.” oh how Tam wanted to prove them wrong or to give them a piece of his mind. But it wasn't the time or place.

They have the plague one of the doctors told him and Linh, taking pity on them seeing as how the gnomes practically raised them for the past three years. It felt even more like a punch in the gut when the doctor took a deep breath and told them

“and we don't have a cure yet.”

Tam vowed then that he would set this right and save the gnomes of Wildwood like they saved him and Linh all those years ago.

Writing taglist (ask to be added or removed): @gay-otlc @fintan-pyren @almostfullnerd   @the-abandoned-schoolbus

#My writing #KOTLC fanfiction #tam song #kotlc tam #linh song #kotlc linh #councillor Terik #councillor Oralie

[linkedkeysau-official]

Linked Keys Febuwhump

Day 12- "Can you hear me?"

How the hell did I manage to get into this situation? Warriors asked himself as he tumbled through the air, body curled tightly around his son so that, at the very least, he would be protected from whatever awaited the two of them at the bottom. Warriors had done everything he could to slow their fall: firing his hookshot at any place they could find purchase on the cliff walls, and if nothing else, kicking off the rocks to change their momentum horizontally instead of straight down for just a bit. That was honestly probably why, when Wars did hit the bottom, he was only badly injured; not killed.

“Dad!” Mask cried, jumping up from his place in his father’s arms.

“‘M okay, Sprite…” He groaned, “R-Relatively.” He tried his hardest to assess his own condition, though he couldn’t move much, let alone stand up. His right ankle was at least sprained and the same shoulder and collarbone either broken or dislocated, if the throbbing pain and inability to move them was anything to go by. His head was pounding, and he could hardly see straight. He could hardly see his kid right there in front of him, and he had the suspicion that the sticky wetness slowly dribbling down from his forehead was blood. At least Mask seemed to be fine, though. That was all he really cared about, even if the rest of it was highly unfortunate to say the least.

“S-Stay here! I’m gonna go on ahead and try to find a way back to the others!” Mask said. Warriors would have tried to stop him… if he could move. But he couldn’t, and so he had no choice but to watch the kid run off into the unknown darkness of this ravine they’d fallen into. He tried to remind himself that Mask was just as much— if not more of— a hero as he was, and knew how to take care of himself. But he couldn’t stop himself from worrying nonetheless. He supposed this was just part of the parenting experience.

Soon, the kid’s fairy partner Navi joined them at the bottom. Warriors was glad to have some company, even if he knew the fairy should be with Mask instead. Still, she insisted on staying with him instead. Maybe because she knew he needed her more. He had considered drinking the one potion he had on him, but decided to wait. He might need it later on, and besides, Mask should be back any minute, leading the others to where Warriors had been forced to remain in his broken condition.

Any minute…

Warriors may not have the ability to tell the time perfectly like Mask and his older counterpart did, but the kid sure was taking a long time.

How long had it been now? An hour? Two hours? Longer? Mask should be back by now…

Something was wrong. Warriors could tell. His dad instincts were screaming at him to go check on his child right this fucking second.

Without missing a beat, he slammed the potion so he'd at least be able to walk, and hobbled off in the direction Mask had gone, Navi trailing along behind him. Warriors called out for his son, but received no answer other than his own echo. He called again and again, and so did Navi. But not a single time did they hear any sort of response from the kid. Warriors was beginning to panic.

"Mask! LINK!!! Can you hear me?! Say something!" He shouted. This time he did hear something, but it was not what he wanted to hear. A light crackling sound came from up ahead. There was a slight glow shining through what appeared to be water.

"A B-Bari!" Navi cried. Warriors, thinking quickly, threw his boomerang into the water, taking out the electric jellyfish creature in one swift blow. But there was something else in the water. Something floating on the surface. Navi must have noticed as well, because she moved closer to see what it was. In the light that she shed, Warriors could finally see, and was horrified.

A soaking wet green tunic. A mess of blond, middle-parted hair. Leather boots that were far too big for the one wearing them. Lying motionless on the surface of the water was the very same person Warriors and Navi were searching for: Mask.

"No, no, no, no… Oh goddesses, Sprite!" He dove into the water without a second thought, wrapping his arms around the kid and dragging him towards the shore before climbing out and hauling his son out of the dark, cold pond. He hoped it was just the blue light from the fairy's body, but the kid looked terribly pale. Red splotches covered most of his skin, identifiable as likely being electrical burns.

But the worst part is, he didn't seem to be breathing. As Warriors realized this, he quickly checked for a pulse… and found none. Not in his wrist, not in his neck… Warriors hoped he was just feeling in the wrong spots due to his panic and the lack of light. His kid couldn't be dead, he just couldn't! In hopes of proving himself wrong, he pressed his ear against the boy's chest. Silence. There was no heartbeat. No breathing.

"Fuck! No, no, NO! Hylia, please no!" He wailed. It occurred to him that it might not be too late. Maybe Mask could still be revived. Warriors knew this was risky and would almost certainly result in a few broken ribs for the kid. He didn't want to hurt his son, he never wanted to do anything that would hurt Mask… but he'd take that over the thought of losing his boy forever. Interlocking his fingers with one hand on top of the other, he pressed against Mask's chest repeatedly in a steady rhythm, fighting the urge to cry as he felt one of the poor kid's ribs crack after only 10 compressions.

After 30 of them, he gave two breaths to try and push air into the kid's lungs. At first nothing noticeable happened. He must have been too waterlogged to take in very much air. He couldn't hold the tears back any longer as he continued the compressions. Desperation was growing by the second. This had to work. He could not lose his son like this.

"Come on, Sprite, don't do this to me!!!" He begged, proceeding to try to inflate the kid's lungs a second time. Again, no effect. More chest compressions. More fragile child ribs cracking beneath the Captain's hands as he continued forcing the kid's heart to beat.

"Please don't do this to me," he repeated, now sobbing uncontrollably, "Breathe, kiddo! I need you to breathe! I need you to come back… Please come back to me, Sprite…!"

Finally, after what felt like an eternity— the most painful eternity of Warriors' life— Mask's body convulsed as he began coughing up the water in his lungs, taking in air to replace it. His father could feel his heartbeat again, weak as it was, and another wave of tears flowed down his cheeks, this time from relief. Carefully turning the kid onto his side so he wouldn't choke, Warriors never thought he'd ever be so happy to hear his kid coughing and hacking like this. But the fact was that it was infinitely better than the alternative. At least he was breathing. At least he was alive.

"Holy shit, kid you scared me half to death…" Warriors sobbed as he gently took the child's weak, limp body into his arms as soon as the coughing lessened, holding him as close as he could without making either of their injuries worse, "Thank the goddesses you're alive… I don't think I could take it if I lost you." He was aware the kid probably couldn't hear him, but he needed to get that out anyway. He just sat there, holding his son and crying, for a solid few minutes.

"Mask? Warriors?" A voice echoed through the cave. It was Zephyr. Hope and relief once again swelled up inside the captain, "Hey! Can you hear me?! Where are you two?!"

Warriors tried to stand up, lifting Mask up with him, but with the adrenaline and desperation fading away, his shoulder ached more than before. Still, he managed to tie a knot in his scarf and slip it over his head like a sling, but instead of using it for his arm he carefully slipped the child's legs through it to help hold him up, supporting his head and neck with his good arm. This would have to do for now. Slowly he got to his feet and stumbled off into the darkness, following his partner's voice until at last the winged figure came into view.

"W-We're right here…!"

(@silvercaptain24)

#linked keys #lk #loz au #not lu #mod kj #lk mask #lk warriors #lk zephyr #tw temporary death #tw child death

[remyfire]

"I'll raise."

"Getting too rich for my blood," BJ murmurs, tossing a couple of chips into the pot. "I'll call. Sweetheart?"

"Sorry, what does raise mean again?" She winces, teeth toying at her lower lip sheepishly. Perfectly playing her part as BJ plays his. They had done this before, one night with Hawk and the brunette at Peggy's other side had requested an encore.

"You gotta put in another fifty cents like Trap did, or bump it up another quarter or more," Hawkeye supplies, managing a decent poker face himself.

Peg pretends to think for a moment, tongue running along the outside of her teeth behind her lips before she tosses her bet in. "Alright! I'll raise you another dollar!"

"You sure about that, Peg?" Hawkeye questions, eyes flashing with concern even as she nods.

"I'm not a fan out takin' money outta kiss's mouths but if you're sure," Trapper smirks, calling her bet.

"I fold," Beej remakes easily, sitting his cards down and propping an arm on the table to rest his cheek in his palm.

"It's all yours, Peggy," Hawk concedes, his amusement starting to shine through. Hopefully able to be masked as eagerness for Trap to show off.

"Flush!" Trapper announces, spreading his cards on the table.

Peg, for her part deflates a little, shoulders sagging in seeming defeat. "Dammit," she swears. "I think you win, Trap. All I have is a full house." Only when cards on the table, literally and metaphorically, does Peg let the poker face fall away into a cheeky, mischievous smirk of her own.

(this is just 2,500 words of self-indulgent complicated polyam configurations, thanks @lattehearted)

It's not a bad gig, what Hawk's got set up here. Yeah, sure, maybe he hadn't exactly caught Trap up on the specifics of why the hell he was even in California in the first place, but given how they last parted, that's all but expected at this point—the unspoken threat that if Trap is gonna pull the shit he did when he walked off on Hawk again, then that's it, and no two-years-late letter's gonna save him again.

The hosts were, ah...notably chilly as fuck when Trap first arrived, but...well, it's been a month now, and at least one of them has thawed significantly. Peg's sweet, practically an angel. There's more bravery in her pinkie than half the guys he's been shoulder to shoulder with in wars. He doesn't know what kind of saint's got a heart that'll let her husband come home with a man when she's been raising a kid solo for two years nor who'd let a perfect stranger waltz into her home to try and fix the mistake he made years ago.

She's cute. She's sweet. She makes it safe for Trap to let his guard down as he sinks back under Hawk's skin more and more. And by spending time with him over tea or scotch or ice cream—the last one shared by Erin, of course—she makes it way fucking less frustrating for him to learn how to share. After all, Hawk was already reacclimating to civilian life with his pretty boy toy before Trap even bit back his pride and sent his letter to Maine in the first place. And said boy toy's shown no particular desire to let Trapper be alone with Hawkeye any longer than he has to. Compassion for a guy finally shoving down all that old fear of his own desires? Nah, no, get in line, pal, he might as well say, like he doesn't have a perfect wife to attend to as well.

At this rate, he's pretty sure the big guy's never gonna give him more than an inch. But that's fine. They can be civil. And if BJ happens to be so busy with Hawk every night, then...

Well, Trap's certainly no stranger to chasing a wife, even if her husband's grumbling about it.

It's been a long hour of poker so far. Trap's up a little, Hawk's up a lot, BJ's middling, and Peg's only got her last chips. It almost makes him feel bad to take her down to next to nothing. One more hand, she's gonna have to go all in, and once the chips are gone, if she wants to keep playing, then...

Down, boy. Trapper knows a shy girl when he sees one. She's got it written all over her face. It's been there this whole game while she's been struggling to learn. Last thing he wants to do is scare her off with his filthy mouth when the chase is half the fun.

He's actually feeling pretty damn cocky when he spreads out his flush. He's ready to gently remind Peg that the best way to learn to play the game is to lose the hardest—and then he sees the delicate way she skims those cards onto the table, as though she's all too intimately familiar with the feel of them in her hands, and something...sinks in, way, way down deep.

The sparkle in her eyes. The curl of her adorable nose. The way her teeth gleam in the light like a predator. She leans forward ever so slightly, elbows on the table, as though she's trying to drink in his reaction for a very specific reason.

It's been a long, long time since he's been hustled quite so elegantly. And he forgot exactly how quickly it can start an bonfire inside him.

Trap slowly lifts his brows as he stares her back down. "Y'know, Hawk, I think we might've just been hustled."

"I think you might be right, Trap," he drawls right back, fast as a bullet, his timbre as dark and rich as Trapper's ever heard it. "Look at her. She thought she could get away with it."

"Thought there wouldn't be consequences." Trap sets his chin on his fists as his lips start to quirk.

"Thought that just because she was cute, she could rob you down to nothing and just waltz away, unscathed."

Trapper takes a second to flick his gaze to Hawkeye. "That only works for you."

Hawk bats his lashes, those sleepy blue eyes more than a little inviting. He doesn't take his gaze off Trapper, not even when Trap looks back at the little blonde pixie across from him.

"Dunno if you know this, sweetheart, but most people don't take too good to being hustled." Every muscle in Trap's body is coiled, holding him down in his chair. This ain't no nurse he can just pull across the table and kiss the life out of. If he takes a step forward, he's gotta make sure she's not taking one further back. "You've gotta pay your dues. Make it up to me."

Peg pushes her lips out into a frankly impressive pout, dipping her head so her hair falls more in her face. "Well...I'd certainly hate to let you go home empty-handed after I just cleaned you out of so much." It's only the breathy edge of her tone that tickles across Trapper's skin, whispers that she didn't just take one step forward, but two. "Tell me, John. How do I make it up to you?"

It's like missiles go off in his legs, filling them with explosive energy. He shoves back from the table with a grin and starts to stand. "How 'bout I show you?"

A house-slipper-covered foot shoots out, propping loudly on the edge of the chair between Trap's thighs, and he drops back down in surprise and locks eyes with BJ Hunnicutt himself. The man's almost languidly leaned back in his own seat, but Trapper's gotten into enough trouble on the streets of Boston as a kid to know what it looks like when someone's looking for a reason to fight. Not even the smooth smile that plays across BJ's face can make him look any less lethal.

"Please, she's my wife." BJ's voice is deceptively bright. "Whatever she's totaled up, just put it on my tab."

Trap's eyebrows lift. It's not enough for BJ to keep the boyfriend all to himself. No, he's gonna step in and block off his wife too when she's all but giving Trapper the bedroom eyes? He can't help but let out a little huff of a laugh. "Hey, now, don't put other people's things on credit if you're not gonna pay it back, pal."

BJ's lips spread just a bit further—"Oh, not the smirk, Beej," Hawk murmurs from the other side of the table—and he chuckles as well. "You came here for one thing, McIntyre. I don't believe running up a credit line on everybody else was part of that."

"For the record," Peg perks up, "I'm perfectly happy helping to balance the ledgers, Beej. You never minded how I handled the finances before."

BJ doesn't take his eyes off Trapper, but he does flare his nostrils, and a hint of color travels down his long throat as he takes a deep breath. Interesting. Very, very interesting.

"Why the fuck are we all talking in metaphors? What is this, Intro to Lit?" Hawk whispers to Peg. She pats his hand.

It's a tough choice. Hunnicutt here's throwing down a wall around his pretty little wife, brick by brick, but he's going slow. He's not snarling, not running Trapper off. He's clearly hearing every damn word his wife says. But when Trap shifts in the chair, he also sees those hackles go up just slightly, the goading temptation for Trap to see what happens if he chooses Peg's invitation over BJ's claim.

Something tells him he's got a lot more to figure out about how this couple prefers to operate.

"Oy," Hawk mumbles, then stands. He wanders around behind Trapper, fingers trailing little sparks of fire right across his back, and that same hand drifts down Trap's shoulder, his bicep, all the way to where he can snag BJ by the knee. He tugs, bringing the leg back down to the floor, the slipper trailing down the inside of Trapper's thigh as it does.

As BJ's foot hits the ground, Hawk throws a slim leg around his waist and straddles him. "You're trapped now. Oops."

"Am I?" Beej drawls.

"Mm-hmm." Hawk brushes their noses together with a smirk as he wraps his arms around BJ's neck. "It's really a shame."

"I should've known you'd be in cahoots."

"Who, me and your wife? Yeah." Hawk nods thoughtfully. "Yeah, sounds about right."

This time when Trapper gets up, BJ only follows him with his gaze rather than a physical barrier.

He circles the table and leans down until he's on a level with Peg. This close, her wide eyes are pools, so fucking dangerous to toe the edge of. He knows what he could fuck up right here in the name of fun. He knows his body, his mind, his heart. The pale skin on his left ring finger still hasn't started to tan to match the rest of him. If he's not careful, if he actually lets himself fall for her...

Trapper lightly taps her chin with his index finger, tipping her head back so they're closer still. "Feeling brave, soldier?"

He can hear the nervous anticipation in the shivery breath she takes. But to her credit, she doesn't so much as flinch. "Are you?"

His grin widens. Yeah, no, he's fucked. Completely and utterly.

He scoops her up without another hesitation and starts carrying her into the living room. "C'mon. If I'm gonna kiss you, I'll keep your modesty intact by taking you away from the audience."

Peg giggles as she tightens her thighs around his waist. She's got fucking strong legs. It makes a man's mind wander. "You know, from all the stories I've heard about you, I never would've pinned you as someone who gave a damn about a woman's modesty."

"You calling me a cad?" he teases, lifting his brow.

Fun as the banter's been, the unfamiliarity between them rises up. Peg's jaw drops. "Oh, o-oh, no, I wouldn't do that—"

"No, you can, it's true." Trap tumbles back on the couch with her on top of him, then knits a hand around the back of her neck to coax her down. "Call me whatever you want, sweetheart. Just kiss me first."

As Peg sinks her fingers into his curls and his lips meet hers, a wave rushes through him. It's funny. He's fantasized about exactly this for at least two weeks, ever since their first little walk to the park together with Erin in her stroller while the boys took some time to themselves. He just hadn't anticipated that only the taste of her sweet mouth was going to be enough to satisfy him. He could do this—just this—for hours and not get sick of it.

She lifts away just an inch, watching him with a silent question in her eyes, and he answers it by pulling her down to drown with him.

In the other room, BJ leans his chair as far backward as he can, trying to catch a peek at what might be happening, and Hawk chuckles as he tugs him by the shirt collar to look at him again. "You're so jealous, you're about to paint the whole kitchen green."

"I'm not jealous," Beej corrects him with smooth confidence in his own lie. "I am simply making sure that your boyfriend knows how to be a gentleman."

"And what if Peggy doesn't want a gentleman right now, huh?"

It really doesn't take much to call up an image of someone as strong and self-assured as McIntyre pinning down Beej's petite wife, hands around her wrists, making her plead for whatever she wants. Hickeys on her neck. Fingerprints on her forearms. He takes what must be his hundredth huge breath for the evening, but it does nothing to cool the lava storm in his chest. He doesn't yet have appropriate words for the possessive need to reclaim her like he wants. If she begs McIntyre to cover her with his marks, then BJ will have a lovely time plastering over all of them with his own.

Hawk rocks back in his lap and Beej holds him still with his hands on his hips. But it's too late. Hawk's felt the lift of interest in Beej's pants and he's damn well smug about it. "Ohoho," he breathes right against Beej's lips. "You're gonna absolutely ruin her tonight, aren't you?"

"If she'd like." He manages to keep his tone perfectly measured.

"Oh, yeah, Miss Flutters-Her-Eyelashes, friend of every bartender, waiter, handyman, and pool boy in the state, no, yeah, this is the one night she's gonna throw you in the cold shower." But barely before Hawk's even done talking, BJ leans to look again, and Hawk catches him by the cheek and presses their foreheads together. "C'mon. Let her have a little fun." He wiggles. "And let me have mine too."

Beej snorts, but as he slides his arms around Hawk's slim waist, he seems to be relenting. "You're just distracting me so your boyfriend and your girlfriend can neck for a while."

"I'm distracting you because it means I get to have the matinee performance all to myself so I can be in the audience for the grand finale tonight." He sinks his teeth into BJ's bottom lip and sucks it into his mouth, fueled by the rough groan that Beej feeds him. "Whaddya say, huh?"

Beej gives him one long, dangerous stare before he stands and pushes Hawk down on the poker table, scattering cards and chips everywhere. "I say let's raise the curtain."

Hawk throws his head back with an indulgent, self-satisfied smirk as Beej slots their hips together and starts sucking a bite of his own into Hawkeye's neck. He gets the distinct feeling that he's being reclaimed too—and he's really not mad about it. His boyfriends will figure their shit out one day. Until then, he's more than happy to be the spoils of their war.

#HOW THE FUCK DO I TAG THIS #THEY ALL LOOK SILLY #okay let's go girls #trappeg #piercintyre #hunnihawk #punnihawk #my writing #mcpunnihawk #I'M GOING WITH THAT ONE UNTIL ONE OF YOU PEOPLE GIVES ME A BETTER ONE #some things are evergreen

[samsolly2004]

At what cost?

Bakudeku

When did it start? He often wondered.

Where did it all go wrong? He thought all the time.

How did it become to this? He frets.

○●°•

Katsuki has always been known for his superiority complex and anger issues. He has always been ahead of others in many areas. He was the strongest and the smartest, and he would be the one to surpass All Might. His being at the top of his class until middle school says something. He learned to be perfect.

He is perfect.

But it all changed the moment he got to UA. Not only did UA accept useless Deku, but he also has a more powerful quirk than him. A quirk that could be easily compared to All Might's.

Katsuki didn't understand. Why didn't Deku tell him he had a quirk? Was he looking down on him? Did he think he was better than him? He didn't get it. He felt like something was missing. Something wasn't right. The excuse of "I never used it because it hurts my body" wasn't believable, at least to him. Everyone, by the looks of it, believes it. But not him. He knows Deku.

He saw how much he had changed. He didn't mean his appearance, but rather his personality. The nerd stopped getting all nervous and anxious around new people he met. The confidence in his voice when he expresses his opinion or talks at all is also new. The air, or aura, surrounding him screamed authority and respect, and somehow it didn't fit right with him.

He's a new Deku. A different Deku that he neither knew nor liked.

○●°•

They were all seated in the classroom, and each and everyone was doing their own thing. It was a free period, so no one cared. Well, at least no one but Katsuki. He didn't like how the extras in his class were being extra clingy. Even after yelling at them, they didn't seem to budge. So it was full-on rage mode on their part, and he was trying to make them leave.

"Can you like shut the fuck up for five minutes?" a low voice boomed through the classroom.

And everything went silent from there.

To most, it was from shock. But to the blonde, it was war.

He faced the class and searched for whoever dared to tell him to shut up.

"What? Hard to believe that useless Deku, would tell you to shut up?"

His eyes widened for a fraction of a minute before going back to normal. He stood up from his seat to fully face the freckled boy. The space between them was only filled with the greenette's desk.

"Care to repeat?" he spat.

"Gladly," smirked the freckled male. His green eyes shining with mirth.

Katsuki was thrown out of the loop. For the first time in a really long while, he didn’t know how to respond. He felt speechless, and it was rare for him to feel this way.

When did it all change?

○●°•

It was a team-building exercise, and Katsuki, as usual, left his team behind to fight Deku and Icy Hot since they were the strongest on the opposing team.

All of a sudden, a wall of ice surrounded him. He was trapped in it from all sides. Once he makes a hole, there's either another wall there or one is immediately built. It irritated him to no end, and he couldn't help but wonder how his team is holding up.

The buzzer rang loudly throughout the entire arena battle, signalling the end of the battle and that one of the two teams had won.

He felt dread run through him. Did he just lose? To Deku none the less? The useless Deku that used to follow him everywhere he went? No! Maybe his team did, but Deku...

Wouldn't lose.

Once the ice walls around him melted, he dashed to the observation room. He spotted the green-haired boy and jumped on him, pinning him to the ground in the process.

The nerd looked more amused than scared, and that made him hesitate. Why was he hesitating? Damn it!

"What Kacchan? Can't accept losses?" he spoke delightfully.

Looking into the greenette's eyes, he saw nothing. Those green, emerald-like eyes were empty and dull, like those of a doll. He stood up and clenched his fist. For the first time, he chose not to fight, not to engage himself in something he knew was bigger than him, and walked away.

How did they end up like this?

○●°•

Katsuki often wondered if it was his fault. It was his fault that Deku turned out this way. He drove him to the point where he couldn't take it; it made him feel like he was nothing when he was everything Katsuki wasn't.

Katsuki knew he went too far when he told him to jump off the roof. He knew the nerd couldn’t do it; he didn’t have the balls to end his life, and even if he did, he would never want to leave his mother behind; he was her only family left. He loved her too much to hurt her like that, but he was starting to rethink the whole thing.

When did it start? He always knew the hatred he felt towards Deku wasn't because he was quirkless. He knew Deku would have become a hero regardless. He would have found a way, like he always does. It wouldn't be a quirk that stopped him from becoming a hero.

Where did it all go wrong? He likes to think that their relationship went south the first time Deku stood against him to defend a weaker kid they were teaching a lesson to. The freckle-headed boy was always quick to defend those who were weaker than him. He'd had that selfless side since they were children.He was stupid just like that, but now that the blonde has thought about it, it's what made Deku better.

He was more heroic than Katsuki, and it irritated him to no end. He would not hesitate to save a life, even if it meant losing his own. The reason he said, "You looked like you needed help," wasn't because he thought the blonde was weak, but because he genuinely didn't want to see his childhood friend dead.

How did it become to this? He sometimes hated how he lost the only true person in his life due to his big ego and miscommunication. He often wondered: Could it all be different? Could he have been normal and not pushed Deku away? Could he have been better and prevented all of this from happening?

No. No, he wouldn't. And because of his stupidity, he lost him. He lost the one best thing in his life. The one person he would die for was lying in his arms, his body limp, his skin paler, and there was blood everywhere on both of them. He couldn't locate the wound to try and stop the bleeding until the damn ambulance got here.

He was shaking. His vision was getting all blurry, and he was scared. Scared of losing him, Dek-Izuku.

He felt a hand on his cheek, and he melted into the touch. Opening his eyes, he saw the green-eyed boy trying to tell him something.

"You can tell me everything later, nerd. Just stay awake, okay? That's all you need to do. To stay awake." he informed the lying boy, trying not to sound like he was crying. He needs to be strong.

"I-I'm s-sor-ry, K-kacchan. P-pl-ease t-take care of, of my m-mother f-for me," he shuttered out, words barely understandable.

"Save your words, Izuku and I wouldn’t need to do that. You will be fine, and you will take care of her yourself." he assured, but he was more likely assuring himself.

They've only recently made their debut. He can't die yet! Who would become the number one hero? Who would be the only one worthy of being his rival? They didn't get to be the wonder duo they had imagined as children. 

"T-tell h-her, I-I w-as s-sorry," he said, voice strain and barely in a whisper.

"I said save it, damn it!" he said frustration in his tone still looking for sign of the damn ambulance. Deku won't die today. He will take him to the hospital himself.

Before he got to moving, he felt Deku's heavy body on his lap. He shook him, trying to keep him awake, but it was in vain. No matter how much he shook him, begged him, and screamed his name, he never returned; not a trace of life could be seen on his face—in his eyes.

He saw the light leave his green eyes.

He saw his world turn dark. His selfishness and inflated ego were to blame.

"Please, Izuku come back! I, I love you," he confessed truthfully.

"I don't want you to die,"

"I still have to apologize. I still need to atone," he whispered desperately, his head on his used-to-be beating heart.

He lost the love of his life. He adored Izuku with his entire being, and it took his death to make him realise it.

And sometimes he wonders, where did it all go wrong?

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

Okay, so that turned out to be bit darker than what I intended. It was supposed to be a villain deku but it just didn't seem right. So here I am with some of what I consider light angst (°~°')

#izuku midoriya #katsuki bakugo #bakudeku #bkdk #mha #mha bkdk

[chayacat]

Remember, My Love. (23)

Fandom: Resident Evil 8 Village

Lycan Karl Heisenberg x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, language and Smut

***

The statue of the Maiden of War. No one really knows how long she's been there. Or what it really represents. But all we know is that she was there when the village was built. It depicts a woman, proudly holding her sword and shield. Moreover, this same woman adorns the door giving access to the house of Dimitrescu. But no one knows if this woman actually existed or not. And why this statue is in the middle of the village. But now for Chris and his band... everything make sense. If what Lobo told them is true, under this statue would be the entrance to the underground where Miranda takes Aria for the ritual.

They all hoped it wasn't too late. That the ritual not be performed. That Aria is fine. That's all they wanted. That's all KARL wanted. And if Miranda touches only one of her hairs... she will end up as a meal for his pack. The group stood in front of the statue and observed around them. No one on the horizon. Not a single villager. Chris hoped they were all safe.

“I have never liked this statue.” Said Karl, breaking the silence.

“You've never been able to appreciate art anyway.” responds Alcina.  

“Well, think again. I love art. It's just that... this statue has always screwed me up uncomfortable. And now I understand why if it serves as a secret entrance for this slut of Miranda.”  

“If Lobo is telling the truth, yes. The problem is that I don't see how to get in. The statue seems too heavy to be pushed. And it would be a shame to destroy it. There must be a mechanism somewhere on this statue. Just have to find it.” said Chris.

Everyone began to study the statue from all angles. If there is a button, a mechanism, something that would make it move, they will eventually find it. Suddenly, grunts were heard. When the group turned around, they saw armed ghouls coming towards them. Miranda had definitely planned a beautiful welcoming committee. A little too big in the eyes of all.  

“Well obviously we saw right. Sacred committee. There are too many of them. We will not be able to have them all. At least not without take some hit in exchange. But we can’t flee. We have no more time for that.” said Chris.  

“Find the entrance. We will take care of it.” said Karl.  

Karl cracked his neck and hands before smirking at the horde of ghouls in front of him. He turned into a Lycan, and then hurled a scream to make a man deaf to it. several howls were heard behind the ghouls and they could see the pack arrive to attack Miranda's army with ferocity. Dimitrescu and her daughters as well as Donna and Angie took part in the fight while Chris looks for the entry. He went all around, observed the slightest suspicious detail on the statue but saw nothing. He was about to hit the pedestal when he noticed something at the level of the goat's eyes that was rising on the shield. His eyes appeared slightly lighter than the rest of the statue. What if...

“I think I found it!” said Chris.  

“So, what are you waiting for? Open this fucking passage!” growls Karl.  

“I have to climb on the statue to reach the shield!”  

“Need a ride, Handsome?” said Cassandra before lifting him with a herculean force to allow him to reach the shield.  

Chris noticed that both eyes were shining. Without thinking, he pushed the latter, causing a thin trickle of blood to flow from the orbits before the entire statue began to tremble. Chris fell but was caught by Urias and when he observed the statue, it moved and backed up to reveal a staircase descending into the underground.

“The door is open! Come on!” said Chris.  

“Careful!!!” scream Daniela, Pushing Chris, receiving a few drops of acid on her arm. “Damn! Its hurts!”

“Daniela!” said Alcina before turning to the source of the acid. Moreau was present and seemed to be very upset. And ready to kill.

“I wouldn't let you pass! no one will hurt mother! you are just traitors!” he said in his monster form.

“Great, all that was missing was the big baby to his mother to make us miserable! We have to get rid of him otherwise him will follow us all the way underground!” said Karl.  

“Go ahead. We're going to take care of him.” said Donna.  

“I'll stay with you. No one touch my daughters.” said Alcina.

“we’ll stay with you mother!” said the 3 Dimitrescu girls.  

“Karl. You too. Aria will need you more than ever. Whatever happens, you should not let Miranda perform her ritual. Got it?”  

“...Got it. Thank you. Urias. Protect them all at all cost.” replied Karl, resuming his human form before following Chris in the underground.

The two men descended before the statue closed the passage. The torches lit up illuminating the long corridors. They glanced at each other before advancing quietly, while remaining on their guard. You never know what might be in those long corridors. There didn't seem to be anyone. Not a soul that lives. Not even a ghoul to welcome them. all there was, was a silence weighing on their shoulders.

“it's too quiet. I don't like it.” said Karl.

“Me too. I have the impression that another welcoming committee could arrive within a minute.”

“Let them come. I will be happy to shred them.”

“By the way... I found...your diary. When I was looking for Aria. You... you've had a hell of a life since you've been in this village.”  

“Hm. Yeah. A fucking life. Who in the end was manipulated to satisfy the desires of a witch.”

“How long have you been here? Because from what I've read... you were pretty young when Miranda picked you up.”

“... I must have had... 7 years when Miranda found me. My parents treated me like a dog. I was not a desired kid we will say. One day I got tired of it. So, I ran away. I wandered for days in the forest. And after a while... hunger was felt. So, I started hunting. And it was during a hunt that Miranda found me. She took me to this village and after... she infected me with mutamycete. My powers have manifested themselves and... my lycan side appeared. I spent time locked up to manage it.”  

“And you met Aria.”

“...Yeah. And the rest you know it. How about you? What drove you to do all this?”

“... it would be... too long to explain. But basically, I was part of a team and we had to investigate the disappearance of another in an old mansion. Except that a company called Umbrella had experimented and created zombies. In my team, there was a traitor. He wanted to eliminate us one by one. And since that day, I have promised myself to destroy any biological weapon that could harm humanity.”

“So why not destroy the mutamycete?”

“Because that would be killing innocent people.”

Suddenly noise was heard, alerting the two men. The latter advanced slowly, and the cries of a woman sounded. That voice. Recognizable among thousands. Aria. They advanced faster to the source of the voice and when they arrived, they found themselves in an empty room. A kind of laboratory. With at the bottom a cell whose door was open. They were there not long ago. Miranda took her away. Surely in the ritual room. Karl began to growl, swearing between his teeth that he had arrived too late. Chris searched the place for clues. And when he got to the cell, he noticed the frozen water crystals.

“Karl! come and see!” he said without looking away.

“...Goddamnit. Aria's powers must begin to awaken. Miranda doesn't have much time left if she wants to bring her daughter back to life. Because if Aria ever gets her powers... Miranda will not be able to do anything against her. My angel... will perhaps give us an advantage. Come on. We have to hurry.” said Karl.  

“Let's just hope it's not too late. Hang on Aria, we're coming.” said Chris before following Karl, running.  

The two followed the long corridor. The closer they got, the more they could hear Aria's voice begging Miranda to let go. They run for long minutes before reaching the inside of a cave... Where they saw something huge over their heads. He was there. Hidden for all those years. The mutamycete. It looked like a huge fetus. And below Aria and Miranda. The latter had tied the young woman to a table and held a blade in her hand. She was about to shoot him down on Aria, when Karl used his magnetic powers to send this witch waltzing away.

“Aria!” scream Karl, rushing to her with Chris.

“Karl! Chris! I'm so glad to see you! get me out of there!” responds Aria.

“Don't worry. We're here for that. We will take care of Miranda. Did she hurt you?” said Chris, detaching Aria with Karl.

“No, she didn't do anything to me. Not yet in any case. I thought that this time... all hope was lost.”

“I will have to be killed before anyone can put one hand on you... never forget it.” replied Karl.

“Never.”

Noise was heard from where Miranda was. Smoke hid the view but we could distinguish the figure of the witch through this smoke screen. Karl took Aria in his arms, hugging her tightly against him. Chris pointed his gun at Miranda, ready to shoot.

“Poor fools. You dare to attack ME? I am a goddess! and pathetic mortals like you, cannot kill a god! YOU’RE GONNA DIE!!!” screams Miranda toward them.  

“You are not a God, Miranda. But a monster. You've created other monsters... and it is they who will lead you to your loss. I will make you pay for it until the last breath of your pathetic life.” said Karl, growling.  

“The game is over Miranda. You won't win this time. You are alone.” said Chris.

“Maybe I am. But I don't need help compared to you. I am a goddess, and you will learn very quickly at your expense... That you should never, NEVER put me against you. You will all die, and I would be happy to use your corpses for my projects!”

It's now or never. This is the last fight. This is the end of the story. The last act. Under this village, fate will be decided. Will the Goddess be defeated? or will she kill her creations? One thing is certain...Someone will fall.  

And die.

***

(Recently I bought the game Hooked on You, the dating sim game of Dead by Daylight! I can't wait to start it! I already know who I'm going to set my sights on. Sorry dear Killers, but the Trapper with his beautiful sailor swimsuit... conquered me! I want to have him only for myself! Otherwise, I think we are soon at the end of RML! I think it will be finished in chapter 27 or 30 I don't know yet! and after 2 weeks of rest that will serve me to take care of Road 96! a little advice: read the AFFO and Oneshots I did before read the story! it will give you little glimpses! and of course after this chapter, a oneshot on road96! I hope you enjoy this chapter! Have a great week everyone! See ya!)  

#Chris Redfield #re8 village #Re8 #Lycan Karl Heisenberg #karl x female reader #Karl Heisenberg #re8 fanfiction

[lord-squiggletits]

Speaking of the Metzen trilogy and people not liking it for bizarre reasons, one time I saw a conversation here on Tumblr where someone claimed something along the lines of “During Monstrosity, Optimus tried to arrest the Dynobots instead of letting them leave Cybertron to manage their condition and that’s why I think he’s an asshole.” And that’s just not fucking true because it takes a bunch of individual events out of order and completely warps the context just to make Optimus look like shit lmao.

The Dynobots were trying to leave Cybertron because of their uncontrollable, violence-/rage-fuelled alt modes, but the only people who knew that were the Dynobots themselves (and us, the readers). The reason Optimus tried to arrest the Dynobots is because they were raiding one of the last large-scale energon refineries on Cybertron that was still functioning AND which was the only source of fuel for actual millions of people. The situation from Optimus’ end was that he got an emergency broadcast from this very fucking important refinery that it was under attack by Decepticons (since they also showed up to raid the same refinery). So like, no fucking shit Optimus tried to arrest the Dynobots, he’s the leader and head of security of the Autobots in the middle of a full blown civil war, trying to defend one of the last stable food sources for millions of people, and he had literally no way of knowing that the Dynobots were only raiding it to get enough money to flee Cybertron so that they wouldn’t put people in danger.

BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE

When Grimlock decided to say “fuck it, I’m a monster, I’m going to just blow up this refinery since I’m just such a horrible and violent person that everyone expects the worst of” in that very same scene, Optimus is the one who talked Grimlock down from it by saying that Grimlock may be hurting, but blowing up the refinery would hurt innocent people, and Grimlock doesn’t want to do that. AND IT LITERALLY DOES MAKE GRIMLOCK STOP (although the refinery is blown up by Skorponok anyways because he’s a chaotic evil dumbass but I digress)

And then Optimus doesn’t even stop the Dynobots (or anyone else, for that matter) from leaving Cybertron! He does digging into the Dynobots’ case files from when they were members of the Primal Vanguard. He asks Kup about what they used to be like. He ignores the suggestion that it would be easier to kill the Dynobots so they don’t harm anyone and instead directly approaches them to say “You don’t have to quarantine yourselves on a random planet out of fear of your alt-modes. I have scientists on my side who can find a cure for your condition.” The Dynobots appreciate Optimus’ offer, but leave anyways (with Optimus again doing nothing to stop them btw) and only return later as surprise reinforcements in the battle against Trypticon, no doubt convinced by Optimus’ faith in them when even they didn’t have faith in themselves.

And by the way, the following story (Primacy) shows that Optimus did keep his word and instruct his scientists/medics to find a cure for the Dynobots, which succeeds.

Optimus was literally one of the only people helping the Dynobots during that entire arc. He’s only antagonistic against them for the first ~3 pages they interact with each other because he met them in the middle of a crisis they were partially responsible for, but from the time he talks Grimlock down onwards he’s basically the only person that cares about telling them they don’t have to be/see themselves as monsters. The interactions between him and the Dynobots are literally a shining example of Optimus being the optimistic, never-gives-up-faith, willing to give anyone a chance hero that he IS and that people want him to BE. But somehow people found a way to twist that into him being an asshole anyways???

#squiggposting #idw op love #like holy shit lmao literally everything idw optimus did in that entire part of the story makes perfect sense in context #i thought people wanted idw op to be a hero but apparently even when he is a hero they'll just ignore it #oh well couldn't be me i actually read the story #moral of the story is if you want to shit on idw optimus shit on him for things he actually did #instead of taking things out of context and framing him like an asshole for reacting like most people would if they were in his shoes dsklfd