#''you could still carry me away but you'd leave me here to die'' is getting to me

[imminent-danger-came]

Once & For All by The Crane Wives is such a MK vs Azure Lion song,,,,,,,,

This is a Crane Wives song I haven't heard before! (so like, a treat for me)

Dare I say I actually think this is a really good shadowpeach song from Macaque's pov

I tried it your way, you tried it mine The white flags still aren't waving, this ain't the good fight I'm putting my foot down, weak knees and all Finally standing on my own after the great fall (imp note: ICARUS PARALLELS FOR THE WIN) Once and for all Once and for all Once and for all I only fought for love at your request Didn't think you'd be the one to leave me clutching at my chest Remember, you're the one that gave up when my blood runs dry You could still carry me away but you'd leave me here to die

Especially the ending here ("Is there anything Wukong could do that would break his hold over you?"):

Once and for all, what does that mean? It's a promise I'm making that I don't actually believe Once and for all means I've tried it before So many times that I'm just fucking tired I'll never be able to close that door

[sunny44]

I’ll love you to the day I die

Pairing: Lando Norris x Girlfriend!reader

Warnings: it’s a sad story guys so be prepared. And English is not my first language.

Summary: It’s yours and Landon’s one-year anniversary.

I look out over Monaco's stunning landscape as the sun slowly rises, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. The city, usually vibrant with the sound of engines and the glow of lights, is quiet this morning. I adjust my shirt collar and check my watch once more. The flight to London is scheduled to leave in a few hours, and I want to make sure I arrive on time for such an important date.

As I drive to the airport, my thoughts turn to Y/n. I remember how she always laughed at my jokes, how her eyes sparkled when I talked about racing, and how she supported me unconditionally in every challenge. Today, we would be celebrating one year together, and I want to do something special.

At the airport, I meet some fans asking for autographs and photos. I smile and answer them all, but my mind is far away, focused only on the surprise I'm preparing. The flight to London is smooth, and I spend most of the time mentally going over every detail of my plan. I want everything to be perfect.

When I land in London, I take a cab straight to the city center. The streets are busy, as always, but I don't pay any attention. My destination is clear and fixed in my mind. I get out of the cab and walk through the streets until I reach a small flower store. I choose a bouquet of white roses, Y/n's favorite flowers, and go on my way.

As I walk, I mentally revisit every moment I spent with Y/n. Every laugh, every kiss, every promise. Finally, I reach my destination. The entrance to the cemetery is sad and silent, a shocking contrast to the liveliness of the surrounding city.

With slow steps, I enter the cemetery, walking among the gravestones until I find Y/n's. My eyes fill with tears as I see her name engraved in the marble. I kneel down, placing the bouquet of white roses on the grave after cleaning it up with my hands.

"Happy one-year anniversary, my love," I whisper, my voice breaking. "I miss you so much. I promised I'd be here today, and I am. I wanted you to be with me so we could celebrate together. I love you so much."

I stay silent, just staring at something that still seems like a lie. Today was supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life, but it has become one of the worst. Five months ago, I wouldn't have thought I'd be coming to the cemetery to celebrate one year of dating the love of my life, but here I am.

"It's funny how I never thought that out of the two of us you'd be the one to passed away first, and considering what I do for a living it's ironically sad." I sniffle again and feel my heart break more and more.

"You have no idea how much I love you and how much I miss you. How I miss your wet towel on the bed, seeing you walking around the house in your bare feet and the post-it’s you used to put in my suitcase before I traveled to a race you weren't going to."

I stand there in silence for a long time, remembering all the precious moments I shared with Y/n. I think of the first time I saw her, the way our eyes met and I knew, in that instant, that she was going to be special.

I think of all the races where she was there, cheering me on, sending me strength and love. I remember the quiet days when we walked hand in hand through the streets of London, laughing and making plans for the future.

Even in her absence, I feel her presence, and that gives me the strength to carry on. I know that, somehow, she will always be with me, guiding me and loving me, no matter where I am.

And I feel that it’s so unfair that I could only have her in my life for such a short time, cause I know and I feel in my heart that we should’ve had more time together.

Finally, I stand up, wiping away the tears. I take one last look at Y/n's gravestone, promising to come back soon. With a heavy heart, but full of love, I leave the cemetery, determined to honor her memory in every race, in every victory, and in every day of my life.

As I walk back to the city, I think about how Y/n had changed my life. She taught me to cherish every moment, to live intensely and to love deeply. I know that, no matter how difficult it may be, I will continue to live for her, keeping alive the flame of the love we shared. And so, with Y/n's memory engraved in my heart, I prepare to face another day, knowing that she will always be by my side, in spirit.

Bonus Scene!

Landonorris instagram post

Liked by @carlossainz, @olivernorris, @maxverstappen1 and other 917291

@landonorris missing you extra hard today my love. These past few months have been the worst of my life and I still can’t believe that you’re gone.

I love you so much and I’ll make sure to live for the both of us.

Happy one-year anniversary muppet, you’ll be forever my girl 🖤.

@carlossainz I’m really sorry mate, we all miss her so much. Stay strong

@oscarpiastri sending you lots of love Lando

@maxverstappen she was a very special girl, we all will live for her

@charlesleclerc a very special person taken away from us so soon, we’re all here for you mate ❤️

Comments on this post have been limited

[endlessdreamworld]

aventurine if his darling attempts to murder him/tells him to die?

Trigger Warnings: Body horror, blood, suicide, character death

"Did you miss me~? I'm sure you're excited to finally g-" You silence that smooth, cheerful greeting of his by wrapping both of your hands around his throat. This is the only way out, properly out. Once upon a time, the sound of his voice would have made your heart melt -- the warmth spilling out until you felt fuzzy all over.

But those days were long gone.

It's been quite a while since the situation has devolved into this nightmare. Everything fell apart after your ex reached out to you for help, and you didn't have the heart to turn him away. Aventurine grew paranoid, scared, and increasingly agitated. This turned into you biting back at him due to this erratic behavior. You couldn't help it, he was putting you into a perpetual state of fight or flight, and that's no way to live.

There were countless opportunities to work things out, but you dug your heels in. You were considering finally ending things for good, because you became part of the problem. You were getting just as bad as he was, and it scared you. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt him, but now it's all you could do. You never really decided how you were going to proceed.

It was quite unfortunate that you never had the opportunity to sort out your feelings. The prick must have slipped something into your drink, because the last memory you had before you woke up in that white padded room was the wonderful date the two of you were on. It was one that made you feel that your relationship was worth saving. It was proof that you still had something beautiful and special.

It surprised you that he threw in the towel before you did, especially given how tenacious he was. Whenever you'd lose hope, he'd be the one to rise to the occasion. Where did that man go? You wished he was here.

It felt like you were there for a lifetime. By the time the door opened, you were far more relieved by the blinding bright color palette of his unmistakably ostentatious sense of style than you had ever been in your entire life.

You naively believed this was just one final road bump before things could get back on track. And for a bit, that's how it seemed, life went on as normal.

Then it happened again, and you were put in that room for longer. You weren't allowed to leave the home you made together after that even when you were allowed outside of the white void. Every interaction now carried the promise that you could be imprisoned in that hell of endless light at any moment. A part of you was afraid that he'd never open the door again one day, that he planned on keeping you there until you died. That's how you found yourself with your hands around his throat in the first place.

If you wanted freedom, to go back to life you once had outside, then you'd need to get there on a road built off of the bones of your fallen jailer. Were you to fail though? Well death would truly be better than this.

You've heard how bad solitary confinement can mess with someone's mind, but you didn't truly understand how utterly destructive it could be until you started feeling maggots crawling underneath your finger nails, tickling your soft flesh with their nonexistent writhing bodies. It was the first of many, many hallucinations. Maybe death would be better than the tainted freedom you'd be able to grasp. Maybe it was already too late.

But all thoughts of maybe were drowned out by the scratchy gasps of the person you once wanted to share your life with. You had what felt like an eternity to hash out the tactics that would give you the highest likelihood of success. Honestly, choking someone to death is a horribly difficult way of going about this. Maybe you should adjust tactics and go for his eyes -- those bright, beautiful eyes of his.

When you locked gazes, all you could see is anguish and defeat reflected in what he refers to as one of the many gifts from the God of his people. How dare he empathize with you? He's the reason any of this is happening. You could have talked it out -- it never had to come to this, and --

You grit your teeth and squeeze harder, too overcome by anger to mindfully scratch out those eyes of his. Why isn't he fighting back? How dare he how dare he how dare he --

It starts raining in the hallway. You always hated how hot and sticky summer rain was, especially when it rains inside.

Ah, those are just your tears. Why are they red again? His neck feels sticky and his commodity code is smudging. You wish he'd stop crying.

You were a tempest, and it felt like you were being ripped in half down the middle. Your ribs burned and pulsed against your sternum while your heart felt like it was being tied up and squeezed. Your body started to feel like it was closing in on itself.

Your vision starts to fade from... exhaustion? No, this felt more permanent. The pain in your chest was so unbearable you couldn't speak. You were dying.

Is this a gift from his God too? Is this that protection that he'd mention, that you've seen before? You've never doubted it of course, since you've seen him defy impossible odds first hand on more than a dozen occasions. He's the reason you believed in miracles in the first place.

You slowly grew limp, and as your consciousness faded, you could still hear him breathing. You could feel Aventurine shiver, and slowly embrace you. It feels good. You were always afraid of dying alone, but it seems like you had nothing to worry about, just like he said.

But what about him? Is he going to move on? Is this another tragedy his lucky divine protection spared him from? ...Does he want to go with you? If he finally wanted to end it all, would the gun misfire? Would the rope break? The thought of such a horrible fate made you pull closer with the very last ounce of your strength. In your final moments, you wished it ended differently.

Maybe in another life, you both could have been happy. In this one, you knew in your failing heart that you would have been happy together if you both played your cards differently.

And with the way he's squeezing you back, you know he felt the same way too.

[itsmrshamilton]

Kiss it better | LH44

A/n: I've been on a break, but I had this idea, so i thought I'd pop in, post it, then disappear again.

💌 ��� 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌

"Ugh, I can't breathe. I think I'm dying." He moaned.

You rolled your eyes and carried on folding and packing the clothes you'd brought into the bedroom. It was a chilly Sunday morning with grey clouds covering the sky. You wanted to get the chores done quickly so you could make yourself a cup of tea and sit down to work.

Usually, Lewis would be up doing laundry as he enjoyed ironing, but today, he was still in bed moaning and groaning about a stuffy nose he's had since Friday.

"Lewis, I love you, but you've been sick for two days already. Why are you still moaning about this?" You sighed to yourself.

"Because I'm dying! Im suffocating right before your very eyes! You're watching your husband die!" He exaggerated. You could hear him rolling about dramatically in the bed behind you. This grown man.

You packed away the last pair of socks before turning to him with your hands on your hips. He grinned sheepishly at you from his position on the bed. Tattooed arms and legs sprawled out. On his bedside table were piles of cups, bottles of cough syrups, and nose spray bottles. Enough to treat more than one sick person.

"What is with grown men and acting so dramatic about the flu? You're so close to overdosing on cough meds." You pointed out.

"Overdosing? I'm healing myself. I'm doing the best I can to play doctor to myself because my beautiful wife doesn't want to help me." You watched as his lips folded softly into a pout. The dramatics.

"Your beautiful wife spent all night making you tea and clearing your tissues." You reminded him and sat on the bed beside him. His hands immediately went to your waist and pulled you on top of him. You squealed. "Lewis!"

"I just need cuddles to make me feel better. And kisses." He whispered. You propped yourself up on your forearms so you could look down at him. Despite the dark eyebags, red nose, and uncombed hair, he was still the most beautiful man you'd ever seen. He pouted even harder at your hesitation, and you lifted an eyebrow in mock sternness. "Please."

"You're going to get me sick." You sighed but relented and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose.

"And here," he pointed to his forehead. "Headache"

You pressed a kiss there, too.

"And here." His eyes. "Here too." His cheeks.

"It definitely hurts here." His chin.

You were giggling at this stage. How ridiculous this man was.

"Oh and here. This place really needs a few kisses to make sure it feels better." He puckered his lips and closed his eyes in anticipation.

You laughed at him but proceeded to lean forward and plant multiple kisses on his lips. You were definitely going to be sick after this. His arms tightened around your waist.

"Ah, see! I feel better already!" He rolled you over so he was on top.

"I can tell!" You exclaimed as he started pressing kisses to your neck. "You look well enough to get up and help me with chores." You squirmed in his hold

He immediately deflated and sighed into the crook of your neck. You giggled softly and placed your hands on either side of his head to pull him up to you.

"One last kiss to make you feel better?"

"Yes, please." He murmured before capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. You pulled away and pushed his shoulders to get him off you. He groaned in protest.

"Let's go, old man. I've still got the kitchen to do, and then we can cuddle on the couch." You stood up and left the bedroom.

"Can we cuddle naked to make me feel better?" He called out.

"Lewis!"

💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌

Thanks for reading. Be sure to interact before you leave.

[bamsywrites]

And Comes Dawn pt 15

Pairing: Sauron/Halbrand x Reader, Isildur x Reader, Sauron/Halbrand x Galadriel

Summary: Sweet One overhears something she is not meant to.

Tags: manipulation, Saurons inner thoughts though they're pretty tame this time, insecure reader, confessions all around, angsty

Notes: this takes place starting at the scene from the gif. Not super heavily edited so let me know if there's anything glaring. As always leave feedback, I love anything and everything I get. And if you feel inclined here is my Kofi. (https://ko-fi.com/bamsy95253)

“ Whatever it was he did to you, and whatever it was you did, be free of it.” Galadriel spoke those words, and it was as if the final piece had fallen into place. The elf trusted him. It would not be hard to get to Eregion, and then it would only be a matter of time until he could forge his weapon. Until he could enact his rule, his control. To bring peace for all middle earth.

To bring peace for you. To ensure your safety.

Galadriel was a worthy ally, someone he'd want at his side. He was more certain now he'd likely need her at his side in order to achieve the optimal outcome. He'd do what he needed to that end, “I never believed I could be. Until today. Fighting at your side, I… I felt if I could just hold on to that feeling, keep it with me always, bind it to my very being, then I…”

“I felt it too.”

And she had fallen into the palm of his hand. It was a fun little game, one he hoped to continue. He looked at her, his hand moving ever so slightly towards hers. Whatever it took, he'd do it. For peace. For order.

For you.

He knew how you'd feel if you heard this conversation. The tension between you and the elf had lessened, but he could sense there was still an insecurity there that you had delegated her as more than you following a checklist of traits he could not understand. He knew you were wary of his interactions with her, fearing you'd be replaced, but you never spoke it. You never dictated who he could and could not spend time with, and he, perhaps surprisingly, offered you the same grace. He had no worries of the boy taking you from him. He knew you were smitten. However, he knew that the implications of his words to the elf would break you. He had only ever spoken to you of being better, of doing better, so speaking of the elf as if she was the key to his redemption would be a blow that he did not know if he could fix.

But your safety was what this was all for. He would do whatever he could to that end. He would fill the elf with lies, perhaps even hold her hand in his or kiss her, if only that meant a world where you did not die, where you did not feel pain or hunger or fear.

“Halbrand, the queen ...um…the queen Is looking for you.”

Your voice broke the spell between him and Galadrial. His fears crushed upon him, and he could not help but feel an overwhelming anger, an anger he hid with a shaky breath. He could hear the breaks in your voice, the thickness of tears unshed weighing down your words. You'd heard it all, and you were walking as fast as your feet could carry you in the opposite direction.

~

Your head was down as you walked away from them. His words ring in your ears.

Stupid girl. Stupid, stupid, stupid girl. Of course, he would not want you now. He was to be a king, and you were just you. You had no doubt he cared for you, but there had always been something with the elf. Lingering looks, touches that lasted a few moments too long. You were not upset that he could feel such things for another. There was a cloud of ‘What if?’ around Galadriel. What if you hadn't been on that raft? You had come to the conclusion that Halbrand and Galadriel would have fallen into that old trope of beautiful elven woman and mortal man.

It wasn't the ‘What ifs?’ that bothered you. You had plenty of those yourself. Without Halbrand, you are sure you would have fallen hard for a certain Numenorian. But as much as Isildur made you laugh, you never entertained the idea of anything more, and when touches lingered, you would call him out on it. And Isil respected you, respected your courtship.

No matter the what ifs’, you met Halbrand first, and your heart was his, and it was shut off to all others. Halbrand couldn't seem to do that with Galadriel, and that was what bothered you so. You were not important enough to him for him to let that go. It seemed he couldn't be happy with just you.

You weren't enough.

Your head was down, and you were furiously wiping away tears. You didn't want anyone to see your shame. You wanted to disappear. Perhaps the earth could swallow you up. You took some breaths to gain your composure before you made it to the village, but your lip trembled. You couldn't get his voice out of your head. You knew he was behind you. You didn't know how far, and you didn't care. You weren't interested in his explanations, how he'd excuse it or worse tell you his feelings have changed. Your feet carried you through the village. You ignored anyone trying to talk to you as you made your way up the ridge.

You sat there in the grass, you could see the people below. You could make out Halbrand, The Queen, Galadriel. You knew it was a triumphant time for your people. You knew it was the man you loved down there, but right now, you just wanted to be alone. You were exhausted from the emotional whiplash. You sniffled and wiped your nose, your cheeks felt raw and stiff from the tears.

You were broken from your thoughts when Isildur sat next to you. He said nothing, just sat with you. It was interesting how his presence lessened your despair, you didn't feel so alone. He was the one person you felt would not judge you or try to invalidate you. You both enjoyed the silence for a few minutes before he broke it.

“I would offer to stab him, but now that he's a king I fear that would not be the best course of action. Perhaps putting rocks in his boots, horse shit in his bed. We must get creative.”

You smiled, wiping the tears from your eyes. He looked to you and smiled softly, following your gaze to where you stared at Halbrand and Galadriel.

“I do not know what it is he has done, only that you'd only be here crying if it was him who had done something. Whatever you may need of me, I am here to offer it to you.”

You swallowed, wetting your lips with a nod. You were silent for a few more moments before speaking, “I feel as if I don't know his heart, not truly. Sometimes, I feel as if we are one and others, and it feels that there is this gaping chasm between us. His words and actions do not always agree, and I struggle to know what to believe. I believe he loves me, but I do not know if I'm the only one. I would understand if she did hold his heart, for she is most things I am not.”

He listened as you spoke, brow furrowed, “Most things you are not? I do not know what you mean by that, but I do know love is not a list to be marked off. It does not care if you are an elf, low man, or high man. It does not matter. If an elven king were to declare his love for you, would that change who you love? Or would you still love Halbrand? The answer to that is rather obvious, I think.”

“I wish he could be content with me. It seems he is restless. It seems….he wants something from her, something I cannot give him. That is what hurts the most. He has given me all I need and more and I have given what I can and yet it is not enough.”

Isildur was thinking of a response, fingers picking at the grass when you spoke so softly he almost did not hear it.

“I wish I was enough.”

His fingers stopped picking the grass, and he looked at you, “Is his opinion of your worth the only one that matters?”

You sniffled and looked at him, wiping your eyes.

“You put too much worth into what he thinks of you when it doesn't matter, not really. Are you enough for you? Are you happy with who you are?”

You sat there in silence. What he was saying made sense. It just wasn't what you expected from him.

“Your worth comes from your heart. Your kindness, your empathy. It comes from your values. From your mind. Your soul. It is not from being enough for Halbrand. Or for me. Or for anyone. Do not give anyone that control over you.”

~

He didn't chase you. It took everything in him not to. He hated it, the feeling of guilt that settled in his chest, how many scores of men and elves had he killed and felt nothing? He had sat with the elf while she cried about her dead brother, a brother he had killed, and felt nothing. But a tremble of your lip and tears in your eyes, and he was riddled with it. He still despised how you could make him feel. it gave you a sense of control over him.

No one had control of him like this, only Morgoth, and that control was taken from him through manipulation and torture. You had used no such tactics. You simply existed, and he was wrapped around your finger. You simply smiled, and he was on his knees. There was not a moment that went by that his mind wasn't consumed with you, thoughts of your safety, and thoughts of your future. Thoughts of how he was to keep you safe.

It was odd to compare you to Morgoth, but he could not deny that, to an extent, you were his master. Even if you didn't command him or lead his actions, he was doing all this so that he could be with you forever, so he could protect you. In that way, you were in control.

He didn't run after you, despite all that, because this conflict would benefit him in the long run. And to that end, it would benefit you. He needed to give Galadriel pause when it came to his feelings for you. He needed her to think his feelings for you were comparable to his feelings for her. He needed her to think that if he had to choose, he might choose her.

There was no choice, though. Not one where she was victorious.

His eyes followed you as you walked up the hill and sat. He could feel the sadness radiating from you even this far away. He would fix it. In time. His attention was pulled away as the queen spoke to him, and he confirmed himself the king of the Southlands. It was an ego stroke to have them chant for him. If only they knew. He smiled as he looked around, reveling in their chants and praise. His smile only faltered when he noticed who else was missing from the crowd.

The boy.

And when his eyes found you on that hill again, his blood boiled to see you weren't alone.

~

Isildur had given you space. His words had resonated with you. Before Halbrand, you had been confident and content in who you were. You had a past that you wanted to atone for, but you were not insecure. You knew who you were and what you dreamed of. You knew your worth, your strengths, your flaws. It all made you who you were, and you liked who you were.

It seemed love had changed that. You loved Halbrand. It would hurt to lose another person you loved, and so you worried and obsessed over it. Over your worthiness for it. But you knew you were worthy of love and happiness by simply existing. If Halbrand valued Galadriel over you, that was his choice, and while it would hurt, the sun would rise and set, and you would move on.

If you could overcome your father becoming a violent fanatic and warping your family into a murderous cult, you would overcome Halbrand loving someone else.

Your gaze wandered to Isildur with Berek and his father. It was far enough you could not make out the conversation, but you could tell it was a heartfelt one. You were glad for it. Their relationship had been too trained for too long.

The calm was broken as water erupted from the ground, screams filled the air, and orcs began chanting. You stood and watched in horror, frozen in place amongst the chaos. Then fire rained from the sky, and your body sprung into action. The children, the injured, they had to have help, and they couldn't be left alone. As soon as you started running toward the village, you were pulled back.

“No! You must not go,” Isildur demanded, his hands holding your wrist.

“Isil, they need help, they need -”

“They need you at the camp. They need you to heal them. Take Berek. I will make sure Halbrand is safe. That your people survive.” He held your face in his hands as he pleaded over the sounds of screams.

“What if you don't return?” Your voice trembled, and lip quivered.

“I would not give you my horse If I was not certain I would come back.”

He gave no warning before lifting you up on the horse,his hand squeezing yours, “If I do not return, I need you to know that I….I love you. Even if it is not returned.”

There was no time for a response before Berek was off, taking you to the Numenorian camp as fast as he could.

[moralesmilesanhour]

teamwork (makes the dream work...?) - the re-up!

summary: the very first chapter of TWMTDW, re-written! wc: 800-ish a/n: not sure if I'm going to do a complete re-write of the entire series because I'm rlly busy with school rn. but lemme know if you'd be interested! read the original here

Sunlight bounced off of the white and red walls of Ms. Jones’ classroom. The first cloudless sky in months made the class extra chatty, newly energized to gossip. You sat quietly one row away from the whiteboard while resting your chin in one hand and clicking a pen in the other. Your usual gossiping partner and best friend Tianna was out sick, leaving you sitting next to an empty desk.

The heavy-set, chestnut-toned woman clapped her hands in that familiar rhythm that told kids when it was time to shut up, cutting through the buzz of conversation. She pressed her lips together as she waited with clasped hands for the remaining chatter to die down. Her black curls were pulled back into a slick, tight bun that made you wince. You wondered if she got headaches from it the way you did on Sundays.

“Alright y’all, today we’re finishing up our unit on velocity and acceleration,” she announced, reaching for the pile of thick packets sitting next to the projector and thumbing through them. She counted off the number of students present under her breath as she did so.

“I need somebody to hand these out in exchange for a merit. Anyone?”

The offering of a merit at the tail-end of the sentence made several hands shoot up. Most of them were either gunning for a chance at earning a pizza party on Friday for racking up as many as possible, or just wanted the opportunity to walk around and be The Guy Who Hands Things Out. Sitting in a hard chair for hours a day made you look forward to any novel distraction that gave you an excuse to stretch your legs. After choosing a boy with rectangular prescription glasses and a jet-black fringe covering his forehead, Ms. Jones looked up from her now-smaller stack of papers and made eye-contact with you.

“You’ll need a partner to work on today’s packet, sweetie, why don’t you go pair up with Morales in the back–and just where are you going, young man?”

She craned her neck sideways to stare down a lanky, brown-skinned boy with twin braids brushing his shoulders. You turned to follow her gaze. He was halfway to the back entrance of the classroom when he stopped, tilted his head up towards the ceiling, and sighed so loudly you could hear it all the way from your seat.

“To the bathroom,” he groaned, as if he’d had to repeat himself at least twenty times before. You’d never seen him before in your period, but this seemed to be a frequently-waged battle.

“And what’s the proper procedure for that?”

It only took a couple strides for Morales to return to his seat and drop back into it with a force that pushed his chair back with a slight screech. He raised his hand.

“May I please use the restroom?”

“Yes, you may,” Ms. Jones replied with a triumphant grin. “And put your glasses on. Your mother told me to remind you.”

Already in the hallway, he called out, “I can still aim, I promise!”

This earned a few scattered snickers from across the classroom - that kid’s voice could really carry.

Jones rolled her eyes and turned back to you.

“You can move back in the meantime, honey.”

You grabbed your packet and pink pencil case as you quietly stood up, making sure to push your seat back in before making your way to your new hopefully-temporary seat.

Morales arrived some twenty minutes later, breaking your focus with the loud screech of his chair. His profile blocked out the warm sunlight you’d been getting from one of the big windows that ran along the left side of the classroom that saved you from the harsh chill of the air conditioner. He didn’t say a word the entire time, just began flying through the problems in the packet while you were still tussling with the second page. Physics wasn’t your strong suit, but it was clearly his. 

You let another minute pass awkwardly staring at him before finally speaking up:

“What’s your name?”

No answer.

“Hey, can I get your name please?”

His pen began to slow down, but he remained silent.

With an added harshness, you raised your volume one more time.

“‘Scuse me, sir, with the braids. I’m talkin’ to you–”

His head snapped up, and he gave you a nasty glare. “I heard you. You don’t see me workin’?”

Indignant, your mouth opened and closed before you found more words to say.

“Yeah, well,” you tried to maintain your abrasiveness, “Ms. Jones said this is partner work and you haven’t said anything to me since you got back. I don’t even know your name–”

“Morales,” he paused, then added, “Miles. And we not partners.”

Miles returned to his work on the second-to-last page of the packet, saying not another word to you for the rest of the period.

[howlingday]

Savior?

Ruby: We came as soon as we could! Is he okay?!

Weiss: What happened?

Yang: The doctors say he's fine now. He just needs to stay a couple of nights so he can recover.

Weiss: What happened, though?

Yang: ...

Ruby: (Covers mouth) Oh my god...

Yang: I'm sorry, Rubes.

Ruby: It's fine. I'm... I'm just glad you got him to the hospital in time.

Yang: Yeah, lucky.

Weiss: ...

Ruby: Can we go see him?

Yang: Yeah, just ask the lady at the desk.

Ruby: Okay! You coming, Weiss?

Weiss: In a bit. I need to speak to Yang for a moment.

Ruby: Okay. Take your time. (Pecks cheek, Walks away)

Yang: ...What's up, Weiss-

Weiss: What were you doing at Jaune's?

Yang: Straight to the point, huh?

Weiss: Yes. Now answer me.

Yang: I was going to... talk... to him.

Weiss: Talk to him how? About what?

Yang: Why are you grilling me all of a sudden?

Weiss: Because between you and an Ursa, I'd trust the Grimm to be nicer to Jaune.

Yang: Ouch.

Weiss: You literally beat him to a pulp after he and Ruby had sex. She was afraid to tell you because she knew how you'd react!

Yang: Oh, so suddenly I'm the bad guy because I don't want some dopehead knocking up my sister?!

Weiss: That is not the issue, Yang, and it doesn't answer my question. Why were you at Jaune's?

Yang: I was trying to make him break up with Ruby!

Weiss: Oh... Yang...

Yang: Don't give me that! He's a danger to himself and the last thing I want is him getting Ruby hurt, too!

Weiss: That is not for you to decide, Yang! Just because you're her sister doesn't mean you get to decide who she dates, let alone put her boyfriend in the hospital!

Yang: I didn't put him in the hospital! I mean, I brought him here, but- I didn't put him here! I didn't! I... I didn't...

Weiss: ...Yang?

Yang: ...When I got to his place, his door was unlocked. I walked in, looking for him, and then I found him lying there. I saw the empty bottle next to him and I grabbed him. I called the hospital, and I carried him outside. As I brought him outside, he...

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

Jaune: Yeng...

Yang: Jaune! Just- Just hang in there, okay? You're gonna be okay!.

Jaune: Err... Err you happy... Yeng?.

Yang: Happy? What the hell are you talking about?!.

Weeeeeeeeeeeee-ooooooooooooooooh~!

Yang: Oh, thank the Brothers...

Jaune: I hope yer...

Yang: Jaune...? JAUNE!.

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

Yang: One freaked out ride to the hospital later and I called you guys.

Weiss: You saved Jaune.

Yang: No, I didn't. I... I was the one who almost got him killed. Sure, he took the pills, but I was the who pushed him to it. I... I'm such an asshole.

Weiss: ...Yes, you are. You're a selfish asshole who beats people up because you're uncomfortable with their relationship to your sister.

Yang: ...

Weiss: BUT you are also the kind of person who doesn't sit around waiting when someone is in trouble. You could have left Jaune to die on the floor, but you didn't. You could have dropped him in the street and dusted off your hands, but you didn't. You could have just gone home and left him alone here, but you-

Yang: I get it, I get it! (Sighs) Still, I feel like shit. All this time I kept thinking, "Was it me this time? Did I push him to do this?"

Weiss: Do you think you did? Did you say anything?

Yang: Well... Not recently, but-

Weiss: Then I doubt it was you.

Yang: But- Whoa!

Weiss: (Hugging Yang) Thank you. Thank you so much for saving Jaune...

Yang: ... (Hugs back) You're welcome, Weiss.

Weiss: (Pulls away) But this doesn't mean you can keep beating him up just because he's dating your sister!

Yang: ...

Yang: Alright, fine... I'm gonna head home.

Weiss: Leaving already?

Yang: Yeah... I think I've done enough already.

[yan-lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: My excuse for writing this is that 99% of my problems would be solved if I were adopted by Vil and Rook, plus it's October so my mind automatically went to several different scenarios involving vampires, you know. Though in the original draft Epel would just kill the reader mercilessly, but I decided to spoil myself a little and made it platonic instead. I'm not sure if I'll do a Halloween event yet, let me know what y'all think about it please. Part two.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warning: Yandere content, platonic yandere, RookVi + Epel being their son, gn!reader, some randoms die, description of blood and members though it's not that explicit, reader gets surprised adopted, I think that's all. Let me know if I should add more warnings tho.

You never thought you would miss the sun and its gentle, joyful rays. You never thought you'd miss walking down busy streets and hearing people talking over each other, but in that moment you thought about all these completely mundane things as you ran as fast as your lungs would let you and your legs could carry you.

Whose idea was it to enter the abandoned mansion? You couldn't even remember anymore, panting, leaning on one of the walls to keep yourself upright. What mattered now was where you would escape and how, and if it was really possible. Your pursuers weren't exactly human as they did well to demonstrate by ripping out your friend's throat, laughing as the blood dripped from their fangs.

Maybe, you thought, heart pounding against your ears as you looked from side to side searching for one of the vampires, maybe I could break one of the windows and escape from here.

It wasn't a spectacular plan, but in your head filled with adrenaline and fear it made complete sense. There was no time for "what ifs", there was the here and now. And with that thought you forced yourself to walk once again, holding back the tears of grief and fear inside you, clinging to the futile hope that you would survive the night.

You opened one of the thousands of doors in that dimly lit hallway, biting your lip hard as you forced your eyes to see through the darkness in search of a window. But there was nothing there, no window, no bed or anything, just a very strange smell and the disconcerting sound of a clock.

The air around you seemed to change and you turned around feeling like something or someone had touched your shoulder. Your hand fumbled for the doorknob and you ran out faster than the devil running from the cross, leaving behind only a glimpse of blood and guts that you probably hadn't even noticed. But later perhaps you would understand.

The seconds dragged by, the blonde vampire's laugh still echoing in your mind as your friend asked for help, the expression on your other friends' faces frozen as they tried to escape. The look of disbelief on one of their faces as you abandoned him in order to save yourself.

You no longer knew how many doors you opened, how many exactly the same rooms you entered, how many times had you felt as if someone was watching your futile efforts to survive while silently laughing at your fearful humanity in the face of death. But you were already exhausted and your pursuers hadn't even found you yet - or, on the other hand, maybe they had but didn't want to kill you yet, like a cat playing with a mouse before ending its life.

In the distance, you saw a small silhouette. His lavender hair and almost angelic appearance would have made you trust him if you hadn't seen what he was capable of doing.

For a second, you thought he hadn't seen you and started to slowly walk away, praying that it was just a legend that vampires had super hearing. One foot behind the other, left then right. But then he looked at you, his little eyes seeming to sparkle and he laughed, loudly, extremely loudly.

Without thinking twice, you turned your back to where you had come, running as fast as you could across the little terrain you knew, every place memorized in your mind as you heard his approaching footsteps and cynical laughs. Every second passing like a cinematic scene in which the protagonist is chased by the killer in a generic horror film, everything jumbled together in your head as you panted and ran, and did it all over again.

You allowed yourself to look over your shoulder when everything went silent and the boy was no longer there. But even though you couldn't see him, you could hear him laughing and whispering something to someone else, to another vampire.

You were running too fast to stop when you reached the end of one of the hallways, crashing into one of the walls and sending a hanging mirror crashing to the floor, glass flying everywhere as you forced yourself to stand up and ignore the pain, quickly looking left and right to see where to go.

It makes a difference? You thought bitterly.

But you got back to your feet, tired, sweaty, in all your stupidity you raised your arms and screamed full of frustration. "I'm here, come kill me if you want, oh, mighty vampires."

Just silence and dark. You really felt like a mouse, searching for the cat's paws to avoid being crushed, searching for the cat's fangs to avoid being sucked to death, but the cat didn't seem to care about you enough. Or, initially that was what the feline wanted you to think, but footsteps were heard all around you, behind you, beside you, in front of you, you were surrounded and now they were really coming.

At least I'll punch one of them, you thought with a small smile.

"You're quite troublesome, mortal." A soft voice sounded in your ear, making you shiver all over and turn back to look for its owner. It was the same voice that announced their death to your friends, the same voice that in any other context would have made you smile, as it was a beautiful voice. "Swallow those tears, human, before I give you a reason to cry. Their deaths are your fault, your own death will be your fault for breaking into the home of the night lords and thinking such a transgression will go unpunished."

You touched your eyes and were surprised to notice small tears falling from your eyes, the vampire's words slowly resonating in your mind. It wasn't your idea to come here, but you didn't dissuade your friends even though you knew the legend that surrounded the house. Was it really your fault?

Fatigue seemed to finally be taking over your heavy bones, despite you trying with all your might to keep your concentration and hatred burning within you, despite you trying not to accept the fact that you would die that night.

"Do you practice this speech every day in front of the mirror?" You retorted, lips trembling as they curved into a wry smile.

A laugh. He was laughing at you like you were just a kid who was using the silliest insult they learned to offend people. "Is that the best you can imagine?"

You looked at him, tall, blond, wondering if such a freak had ever been human, wondering how someone could lose their morals so frivolously and take pleasure in killing and dismembering humans for fun. And you didn't answer him, biting your tongue hard to keep from shouting insults.

"Oh, but Roi du Poison, they're so cute." Another voice echoed, this time you felt a hand gently smoothing your hair with fingers so light you swore they were made of feathers, the pale face resting just above your shoulder, freezing you in the same second as the two of you made eye contact. "Can't we keep them instead?"

Rook still half hugging you, half enjoying the smell of your blood; his arms tightened around your waist as you tried to push him away with all the strength you could muster. Pushing and clawing his shoulders away, trying to kick him and fighting him.

But he felt like a block of concrete, motionless, hard and smiling so gently at you and your efforts. His hands continued twirling strands of your hair and drinking in your expression of discomfort, as if all this were normal.

"Yes please." The same boy from before asked, an excited gleam passing through his eyes as he looked from you to the other vampire. "You promised me I would have a little sibling."

Little sibling…?

If you hadn't had a vampire literally holding you so tenderly but firmly in that moment, his face resting on your neck, maybe you would have laughed and screamed that you wouldn't be the sibling of a murderer and that if you could you would kill them all with a stake. Or, anything sharp you had on hand.

But you held back, taking deep breaths, just waiting for the right moment to act. Maybe some of your other friends had managed to escape and would come back soon to help you.

The vampire, Vil, looked at your tired figure with attentive eyes. Excruciating moments passed in total silence, you being unable to hear your own heavy breathing or the way your heart beat as you waited.

You waited for his attack, for his mocking laugh. Your hands closed ready to hit the face of the first vampire who dared to try to bite you. It was foolish to think that this would do anything, if anything it would make them angry and kill you more slowly to see you suffer.

Vil looked at Rook, watching how he was intoxicated by the smell of your sweet blood and they both looked at each other, talking, arguing silently while Epel looked at his dads impatiently, shifting his weight from one leg to another, eager for an answer.

"Or you can let me go." You argued. "I promise I won't tell anyone anything."

But the three men completely ignored you, deaf to your suggestions and blind to your justified fear. Rook slowly released his tight grip on your waist and you felt as if you could breathe again, as if pressure had left your entire body, which was paralyzed.

"They're in your capable hands, son." Vil stated, hands resting on his hips as he looked at the boy.

Not so subtly, you move away from the reach of Rook's nimble arms, feeling exposed as all the vampires look at you. A different look; a look you don't give at your food, the bile in your stomach began to stir and you took a deep breath.

Epel, the youngest vampire, moved. His footsteps being so silent against the floorboards that if you took your eyes off him you wouldn't be able to see him approach.

"I was like you a long time ago," He murmured, baring his fangs in a small smile too intimidating to be casual. "but you don't need to be afraid, y'know"

"I don't kill people." You countered. "I'm not a monster like you."

Epel smiled once more, his eyes shining with recognition. "Every new vampire says that. I said that too and you say it now, but in the future you will kill, because that's what we do to survive."

One second he was in front of you and the next he was gone, leaving behind only a bad feeling of not knowing which side he would attack from. Rook and Vil watch the events unfold from a safe distance.

You forced your ears to work to their fullest, searching everywhere for him.

Suddenly, you heard him step on the shards of broken glass and you turned around, your closed fist making direct contact with his face. Epel staggered in surprise as if he didn't expect you to fight back, but soon he looked at you and smiled.

It was actually a dance, the way you dodged and tried to attack him. But the problem with dancing is that it requires good physical condition and you were running for a long time, running to get to that damn house and then running to try to escape the house, a false step took you to the ground in moments and Epel pressed his foot on your stomach keeping you pinned to the ground.

You continued to fight with all your might, but he was relentless. As immobile as Rook, so impossible to escape and face to face with your death, tears of anger and helplessness flowed from your eyes in abundance against your will.

You wouldn't be graced with death like your friends, but it would be a death all the same. A death without sunlight, destined to know that the people who care about you would be looking for you, looking for your body, without knowing what really happened that Halloween night.

"We'll have a lot of fun when you wake up, lil sib." He whispered, it was supposed to be something comforting, but it sounded extremely condescending.

Despite the difference in height between you and him, you felt smaller, much smaller in the face of the impotence and strength of that delirious look. "When you wake up I will show you the best plains, the best hunting places and you will understand everything from my perspective."

"I'll kill you when I wake up." You promised him, dryly, firmly.

And you don't break your promises.

Epel ignored your words as he knelt beside you, cold fingers holding your hands without much effort as his face moved closer and closer to your neck. His pink lips brushed against your skin.

"You fought well, but you must accept your defeat."

He bit your neck before you could retort, injecting his vampiric venom that would kill you in a few minutes, laying your body on the ground once again. The boy remained sitting next to you, watching every pained expression pass across your face and trying to remember if he reacted the same way.

A lot of time had passed and he couldn't remember. Soon, you wouldn't remember your unfounded fear either, soon, you and he could do what siblings do, whatever that is. For the past five hundred years he has been his dads' only child, but Epel likes to think he will make a good big brother to you.

"Sweet dreams, Yuu."

[nian-7]

I have a request if thats okay for you! Take your timee!!

The reader gets stabbed in the chest And literally coughing blood and shit and dies and literally a minute later they are like "hi :3" (they literally have a shit eating smile as if they didnt just die a few minutes ago) while they are literally wasting tears for them and they just look at the reader still crying but looks like theyre about to slap the reader, the reason for them not dying just yet is because they literally have two lives and just used one for this (lets say crack if you will lol.) Ty!!

Includes: Jing yuan, Yanqing, Blade, Serval

Y anon </33

hello! this is a funny concept so please enjoy!

Serval, Jing Yuan, Yanqing x gn!reader

✧having two lives

✧crack, tw: blood, injuries

" It's gonna be alright, (name)- " She was kneeled beside your bleeding body in the snowy outskirts of Belobog. It had just been a short trip out and neither of you had expected to get attacked. You tried getting up as she forced you back to laying down. " Please, just lay down while we wait for the Silvermane Guards. " She had a sad look on her face as she spoke.

" I'll- " You coughed, making her flinch as she saw blood come out from your mouth. " I'll be- okay.. " Your breath was getting shallow as she helped you sit up to prevent you from choking on your own blood.

" Just rest, it'll be okay, yeah? They'll be here soon to take you to a doctor. " She assured, not wanting you to feel anxious or scared.

" You know.. " You started, looking over at her. " You really are a great girlfriend. " You gave a weak smile as you felt her squeeze your hand. She felt you go limp as she held you up, your hand no longer grabbing her own.

Tears pricked at her eyes as she stared at you, death had finally come to take you after you had bled out.

Your nose then scrunched up.

" Gross, what is that smell? " You opened your eyes, looking at Serval then back down at you. " Don't cry, I'm alive. " You smiled, her face was covered in disbelief.

" You- but you died? " She wiped a tear that was in her eye.

" Yeah but, I have two lives! Two! " You put up two fingers, much like a peace sign, and put it towards her. " I just used one so I have one more! " She sighed and hugged you tightly.

" ...Thank god. "

You found yourself being carried in the General's arms after you had been fatally wounded on a mission. You'd manage to get away even so, he feared you had little time left.

" I'm sure you will be alright, (name). " He looked down at you in his arms as he headed back towards the Luofu. " You must not worry. "

" Ah.. yeah, but it really hurts- Like really, really hurts. " You winced as you touched the wound on your abdomen.

" Refrain from touching it, I would not like for you to get an infection on top of such a fatal wound. " He had a stern yet caring look as he looked at you.

" Sorry, I just need to close my eyes for a bit.. " You felt your eyes fluttering closed as his eyes widened at you.

" (name), please try to keep your eyes open. We'll be th- " Your eyes had already closed, your body limp in his arms. Your weight now felt like dead weight as he stopped, looking down at your now lifeless form. " Ah.. " He needed to get you back as soon as he could, he shouldn't mourn you here.

You let out a sigh, your eyes opening once again.

" Sorry about that- Seems like I died though, huh? " You looked up at him. " I'm fine now, onwards! Back home! "

You heard him sigh as he started walking again. " You got me there. I truly believed you had died on me. It was not a pleasant feeling. I do have many questions for you alas, you should rest for now. "

" (name)! (name)! Don't fall asleep! " Yanqing sat beside you has you held your side. He had called for back up and a doctor but refused to leave you alone when you were like this. " You gotta stay awake, okay?! " His voice betrayed him as he talked to you, sadness was evident in it.

" Alright, alright.. I'm trying, " You let out a laugh. " I'll be fine, don't worry, okay? Just a little stab wound isn't going to get me. " You squeezed his hand gently.

" Just- stay awake! " He held your hand close to his chest as he looked at you. " You just gotta! " You gave a nod back as his eyes became glassy.

" Don't cry, Yanqing- " You coughed, going limp for a minute. Yanqings eyes started to water as he gently shook you.

" (name)?! " You let out a shaky breath a moment later, tears had started to come out of his eyes. He hugged you tightly.

" Yanqing! Not so tight! " You patted his back, signaling for him to loosen his grip.

" I'm just- just super happy you're okay! " He wiped the tears from his eyes. " Don't fall asleep again, okay? I'm going to stay right here and make sure you don't! "

" Alright, I promise.. " You smiled at the boy.

please do not repost any of my work without my permission, thank you for reading.

[cynarisgayass]

Hi, hopefully this looks ok I haven't done a request b4 lol. I was wondering if you could do Billy Kid and Lycaon (I'm not sure if you write Lycaon or not so idm if you don't want to) reacting to a severely injured reader <3

𓍊𓋼~Rescue me~𓋼𓍊

Type: Oneshot

Description: Your request looks perfect dw! But, I've never written for Lycaon before and haven't gotten to know his character yet so I did leave him out...I plan on posting more with him once I've learned more about him though!

Rating: Mature/ slightly angsty

Reader: GN, injured

Warning: slight gore

Featuring: Billy kid

Billy kid:

You tilted your head back, the stone walls behind you being the only support for your weakening body. You could feel warmth staining your clothes and you knew full well it was your own blood. Yet you couldn't feel a thing...that was the scariest part, you were entirely numb and slightly dizzy.

"Hey! Don't die on me okay! I got ya, just give me one sec!"

"Billy..." You slowly glanced in his direction, he was still fighting off ethereals, guns blasting every which way and his body zig zagging around to avoid getting hit himself, only now he seemed worried. He kept looking at you, panic already settling in as he processed the best way to help you.

"Oh carp...gotta go! Just hang on alright!" He hurried towards you, dodging attacks before easily scooping you up in his arms and carrying you as fast as he could to the exit.

You felt you consciousness slipping away, you were gonna pass out soon and not know if you'd ever wake up...it was a terrifying thought, but having someone with you made it...a little easier. Just a little. "...Billy.."

"It's gonna be okay, just stay awake and keep looking at me right. If you stay awake till we are out of the hollows I'll buy you all the ramen you can eat. Just stay awake." You felt his hold on you tighten...he was really starting to get scared.

"Thank you...for everything Billy." You gave him a weak smile as your eyelids grew heavier and your heart started to slow.

"Woah woah, didn't I say don't die?!?" He slid into the nearest building and gently set you on the ground. "Stay strong okay, we are almost out of here I know it....just...just stay with me okay?" He softly touched your cheek, his worst fears growing realer with every drop of crimson blood you lost.

"Just stay awake, I have you. I'll get you out of here."

P.s, reader lives. Cause I can

[zombiigrll]

Okay, okay, okay. This came to me in a dream, and I think you'd perfectly write this: Prison era. Carl just lost Lori. Y/n comforts Carl with a doll they've carried the whole time and have been known to never let it go but they give it to Carl. <3 please, I am begging on my hands and knees.

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YOUR DOLL? ⋆｡°✩ carl grimes x reader .ᐟ WORD COUNT .ᐟ ⭑ 1.3K ꩜ .ᐟ WARNINGS ⭑ hurt to comfort, spoilers for the walking dead 3x4, blood/gore-y mentions, death mentions, cursing, arguing, then some fluff :3 .ᐟ SUMMARY .ᐟ ⭑ carl became distant after his mother had died, leaving you, his childhood best-friend, in the dust. but he knew he couldn't get rid of you that easily. ꩜ .ᐟ A/N .ᐟ ⭑ thank you SO MUCH for the request!! this is such a cute idea<3 hope i portrayed it like how you imagined :3 (also i hope you guys like the tiny twdg reference hehe)

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walkers had broke into the prison. you were separated from everyone, carl, lori, rick, everyone. you were terrified. sure, you knew how to fight, but you never liked to fight. you always thought too much about it. how the knives felt jabbing through the skulls of walkers who were once humans, how every time you killed another you felt more and more deranged...

but you knew you needed to do it. you didn't want to die, so you had to. the only thing there to comfort you was your doll, clementine. you had her ever since you were born, and you carried her everywhere with you. you were lucky enough to still have her given the current circumstances of the world. you made sure that alongside your knife, you held her tightly in your hand. you backed yourself up into a cell and slammed it shut so the walkers chasing steadily behind you couldn't get in.

you began hyperventilating, looking at the walkers hands grabbing at you from the other side. your eyes began filling up with tears as you squeezed clementine closer to you, leaning your back up against the back wall. you didn't want to die like this, but you stupidly trapped yourself here. you didn't know if those bars could hold that amount of walkers, but you went in there anyways.

tears began flowing out of your eyes as you loudly sobbed, practically screaming to get someone, anyone's, attention. ...and it worked.

"y/n?! oh, shit-" a familiar voice yelled through the prison block, followed by gunshots.

"...glenn?" you sniffled, your eyes widening as you looked around at the sudden openings through the cell bars from the walkers averting their bodies towards the shots.

you quickly bolted up with your knife again to stab the walkers that were still in arms reach in an attempt to help glenn. eventually, he got the rest.

he ran up to the cell and opened it, noticing your bloodied appearance. "are you okay? are you bit?"

"i'm fine, wh..where's carl?" you stuttered, out of breath.

"..i'm not sure. come on." he placed his hand on your shoulder and began walking you out and into the courtyard.

...

as the two of you stepped into the yard, you both noticed carl and maggie walking out, blood on both of their hands. and a baby in maggies.

tears were rolling down both of their faces, except carl had little to no emotion on his.

"carl..?" you called out, stepping closer to him. and all you got in return was a saddened look. "where.. where's lori?"

this caught ricks attention more as he began putting the pieces together. the blood, the baby.. the tears.

your face quickly softened at the realization. you brought a hand up to your face, unsure what to do besides sob.

lori was like a mother figure for you, always helping you while your parents were out working. she's the reason you were still living in the first place.

everyone was crying. glenn was holding maggie, rick was a wreck, no one knew what to do. then rick left. running back to where maggie and carl walked away to find lori.

carl wiped the tears off of his face, which resulted in blood from his hand spreading onto his cheeks. he started walking back to the cell blocks, which caused you to snap back to reality. you put a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to stop him, but he shrugged it off. you stayed standing there, looking at your hand he pushed away then back up at him. you frowned, but you understood. you were like this when you processed you'd never see your mom or dad again.

...

weeks passed. things were fixed.. sort of. carl was still a wreck. he hated talking to anyone. he barely took care of himself. he'd sit in his room, reading, sleeping, or just.. breathing.

he wouldn't talk to you, and as much as you knew it wasn't personal, it still hurt. he should know that out of everyone here, you understood.

but today, you had enough. you weren't going to let him suffer in silence any further.

you walked up to his cell and knocked on the side of the wall to get his attention, which caused him to flinch and look up at you.

"..go away." he murmured.

"carl, i don't want you to go through this by yourself. i want to help." you crossed your arms and leaned against the doorframe, your doll hanging over your pocket.

"i don't need you to help me. i'm not going through anything, i'm fine." he snapped back angrily.

"you're not fine. people who are fine don't sit in their room all day staring blankly at the ceiling." you retort before softening your tone. "..i'm here for you."

this broke him slightly. he sighs and covers his face with his hands before falling back on his bed.

you walk up and sit next to him silently, giving him some time before you speak again. "i know how it feels. well, kind of.. i just want to help you."

"what happened to you that day?" he changes the subject, his hands still covering his face.

"..what?"

"what happened to you when the walkers broke into the prison?" he repeats.

"why are you asking me that?" you raise an eyebrow at him.

"just answer me." his tone turns slightly more demanding. "you were covered in blood."

"oh." you sighed. "a ton of the walkers were chasing me. i killed a couple and their blood splattered on me. i had to run into a cell and lock myself in."

"so you almost got bit?" his voice turned more upset and concerned.

"well, yeah. but i didn't."

he shakes his head and sits back up to look at you. "i should've been there to help you. and even when i saw you covered in blood, i didn't care to ask if you were bit."

"that's okay. i don't mind. you... lost your mom. you weren't thinking straight. i didn't take any offense to it." you reassure him with a smile, which he simply just looks away at.

"i don't understand. why would you want to help me after that?" he asks, his voice slightly cracking.

"because.. i love you?" you chuckle, and he quickly turns his head back to face you again.

"...what?"

"when i realized i was never going to see my parents again, i reacted the same way you did. and you were still there for me. i yelled at you, i pushed you away, you didn't care. you were there for me." you smile, looking down at your hands in your lap. "i love you, carl."

he stares at you, mouth agape, dumbfounded by your words. "like.. how?"

you laughed. "in every way possible." a flush of pink covered both of your faces. as carl processed your words, you took your doll out of your pocket and handed it to him. "here."

"huh?" he grabs clementine and looks at her confused. "...your doll?"

you nod with a bright smile. "mhm. she's gotten me through rough times. maybe.. she can help you, too."

his confused look turns more sweet as he chuckles, holding the doll close. ".. thank you."

"of course." you pull him in for a hug, squeezing him tightly, to which he returns.

"...i love you, too, by the way." he mumbles into your neck.

you chuckle in response, kissing the top of his head. he breaks from the hug and looks at you, his eyes wide.

"did you just kiss me?" his eyebrows raise.

"maybe." you reply in a sing-song tone, a smirk on your lips.

his face turns bright red, to the point where he could pass as a tomato. he averts his eyes before putting his hand up to your cheek, pulling you in for a quick kiss.

as he pulls away, he looks at you softly. his facial expression looked as if nothing else mattered. he was happy, although you couldn't fully tell at first glace. he looked at you like you were a goddess, and he was the luckiest boy in the world. and he finally felt at peace in your soft, comforting arms.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

[wannab-urs]

Ouroboros

Pairing: Dave York x F!Reader

Summary: You and Dave are two people with nothing left in the world but each other. You find each other starving, desperate, violent. WC: ~1200

Content/Warnings: Love as consumption, but it’s not quite love; oral f!receiving, unprotected PIV (do better!), blood, biting, really violent metaphors and similes, scratching, pinning, choking, marking, idk rough sex in general, everyone involved is emotionally unavailable and sad.

A/N: This is inspired by a blurb I wrote on violent expressions of love/love as consumption. I haven't written anything quite like this before so I guess lmk if you'd like a part two! Thanks to @atinylittlepain, @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin, @gasolinerainbowpuddles, @amanitacowboy, @beskarandblasters, and @theywhowriteandknowthings for listening to me yell about it for two days and helping me along <3

Dave York Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

I want to tell you a story / of snakes eating / their own tails, Swallowing themselves whole. I hope / you can guess that this story Is about love / and what people will do / to get a taste of it --@twinnedpeaks

Dave has lost everything. You can tell just by looking at him. There’s a desolation in his eyes like none you’ve ever seen before save looking in the mirror. You are so empty. There is something you both lack and the absence of it has left you starving. Something not quite right with you. Born without it maybe, or maybe it was taken by force. 

You’re both so empty that when you’re together it’s like you take turns trying to fill yourselves up with each other, but you’re only ever left hungrier than you were before. Desperate for the taste of each other. You bleed when he touches you, pour it into his mouth and down his throat, but it never makes him less ravenous. 

You let him dig teeth and claws into your chest, tear into the cavern where your heart should be. Someone said if you get hungry enough you’ll eat your own heart, and maybe that’s why there’s not enough of you for him to get his fill. 

He says you belong here, never with him, but here, in the wasteland of his arms. He says you tear the flesh from his bones. He asks how he could love you when he has no love to give even as he buries himself inside you, settles under your skin. 

You’re both too afraid to hang on to each other, though you leave claw marks in the letting go. Part of you wants to love him, but in loving him you would undoubtedly lose yourself. 

You yearn for a love that doesn’t exist. Where claws sinking into flesh, sharp and scathing, ripping organs from your body, tearing you apart at the seams so you can be remade into something new doesn’t result in the utter destruction of self. A love that’s all consuming and desperate and violent but that still feels like a home you can settle into. 

And the yearning is another type of hunger. Just another thing you lack. All the things you lack enough to form a hill you will probably die on someday. How can the absence of something be such a heavy weight to carry? You want to settle some of it on his broad shoulders, but you don’t know how to give away what you don’t have. You give him yourself instead. 

He wraps your thighs around his head and settles in to feast on you, tongue delving deep inside and curved nose grinding into your clit. He eats you as if he’s trying to find a way in. You gouge his shoulders, raking up his neck and into his hair. You revel in his flesh caught under your nails, something of him you can take with you. He groans and it vibrates your bones. 

You pull him closer, something like pleasure coursing through your veins, you think. It’s been so long since something felt good you aren’t sure this is what it feels like. But it feels like something and you crave something. The something settles low in your belly, coils like a snake, and strikes. Dave drinks you down, consuming everything you give him, and when he peers up at you from between your legs his eyes are still full of a dark hunger. 

He drags his mouth up your body as though he can’t bear the thought of your taste leaving his mouth. Sinks teeth into the flesh of your shoulder and you swear you hear them clack through your skin. You yank his head away from you by the hair he has let curl at the nape of his neck, and he snarls, his mouth tinged red with you. 

You surge up into him, crash your mouths together hard enough to split lips and you swallow, taking blood and spit and slick on your tongue and he sucks it back onto his. He settles fully between your legs, not breaking his mouth away from yours as he pushes your thighs into your chest. You let him fold you in half, his hands settling into the mattress and keeping you spread wide for him.

He buries his face in your neck, bites down, and snaps his hips into you, both of you grunting at the force. He splits you open at your core, soothes that hollow ache of emptiness, filling you to the brim. All you think or feel or see is Dave. The planes of his back shifting and sheened with sweat as he ruts into you, the shining red streaks on his shoulders a beautiful contrast to golden skin. You dig the nails of your left hand into his asscheek, pulling him into you even harder. Settle your right hand in a fist in his hair and twist and he growls in your ear. 

He sits back on his heels, grabs your hands and pins them to the bed. The bones in your wrists shift pleasantly painfully (what’s the difference?) as he settles his weight forward. You wrap your legs around his torso and pull him back to you, emptiness for even a moment too much to bear. You latch your teeth into the muscle of Dave’s forearm and he lets go of your wrist only to wrap your throat in his long fingers and squeeze. 

There’s something so intimate about your life being held in the palm of someone’s hand. There’s something so violent about him, burrowed deep, always lingering beneath the surface. There’s something so reassuring knowing he is entirely capable of snuffing your life out right here, but he won’t. Not because you are some precious thing, but because he needs you as badly as you need him. 

You are near silent, coming with a desperate gasp for air you aren’t able to pull in and he follows you. He too is a vessel with a crack somewhere near the middle, unable to hold anything inside for long, and he is pouring himself into you, hoping you will hold what he gives you. You shudder around him, grasping at his fingers around your throat not to pull him away, but to push him in harder. 

He tears his hand away first, then the rest of himself, landing on the mattress next to you and no longer touching you. The after always sending him reeling from you as though your skin burns him. Maybe it does. You head to the bathroom to clean yourself up while he berates himself for coming back here. 

In the mirror you’re a vision of blooming purple and searing red. Throat, shoulder, wrists, thighs, cunt, all marked and aching. You’ll feel him for the days it will take him to fall back into your bed and just as he fades from your skin he will knock on your door. 

When you return to the bed, Dave is on his back, hands folded on his chest like a corpse at his visitation service. You lie beside him, upper arms pressed together as you mirror his pose. 

“Are you staying?”

He makes a noncommittal noise, a yes and a no, but grabs your arm and pulls you into him anyway. You wrap around him, an arm and a leg thrown across his body. You press your lips to a mark on his chest you don’t remember making. He traces patterns on your naked back and sighs. 

“I want to, I think.”

---------

Thanks for reading!! I have a general idea for a part two if it would interest anyone :) And sorry to the people I was supposed to write requests for... this wouldn't get out of my head.

[procyonloser]

Adamsapple mini ~space~ au that maybe I'll adapt into an actual fic after I'm done with eve of Adam.

Read more below the cut

Klaxons were blaring and the ship was painted in flashes of red and blue. His soldiers were running around like headless fucking chickens, trying to contain the fires and the leaks before they got out of hand, but bodies lay on the ground and they were drifting on no life support.

"Sir!?" His first officer screamed, holding her bleeding arm. Her eyes were wide in fear, fury, and a resolution that was quickly leaving him. But, they still shared a similar need for revenge.

They were outgunned. The traitors and outcasts had won, the scum of the fucking galaxy. Disgusting hybrids and freaks.

And the worst of all of them...

Adam stumbled to the front of his ship, stepping over the body of his navigator. He'd not live much longer, a piece of metal had gone straight through him in the last barrage. Lucifer's lead ship, the Morning Star, stayed locked onto them. He'd gotten a few good hits in on Charlie's ship, she'd not be able to warp out of here.

Adam stared out the window, and decided he had one song left in him.

"Attention, this is your fucking Captain speaking. Abandon ship. Get to your escape pods and get your asses back to Peter's Gate space station." Adam barked out, feeling a sharp pain digging through him with every word. Lute started to protest behind him, but he carried on. "I'm not leaving the ship, I wouldn't survive the trip anyway. Lute is your new acting Captain. Now - fucking go already!"

There was chaos as his soldiers realized all hope was lost and the fight was over for them. Lute had tears running down her face, but Adam just shook his head.

"I gave you an order. Get out of here unless you want to die too." Adam said, without looking back up at her. Instead, he focused on yanking the chuck of metal out of his stomach. His white and gold suit had been stained a deep red. The only spot of human blood on the ship.

"Sir-" Lute moved closer, but Adam just flopped down into what was left of the Captain's chair.

"I'm not going down without one last trick up my sleeve. Get out of here before I bleed out. I'm giving you one minute to get to warp." Adam finally met her gaze with a weary grin. She knew what it meant, and it took her a moment to find the courage to do what she knew she had to.

Leave.

By the time he saw her escape pod launch from the port, and eventually flash away in a beam of light, Adam's vision had grown hazy. His entire body felt cold from blood loss, or maybe it was just the systems of the ship failing in the depths of space.

Either way, he had enough in him to punch in the self destruct codes.

Hopefully, he'd damaged enough of their ships warp cores that one wouldn't be able to flee, maybe even Charlie's ship. He doubted Lucifer's ship was damaged enough, but he could always dream. That's about all he'd be doing soon.

Adam sighed and looked out the window, wondering what Lucifer was thinking right now. It didn't need to be like this, if he hadn't rebelled, hadn't fucked Lilith and made that revolting hybrid. Lucifer could have been King of more than just the trash of the Galaxy. Lucifer had been more than that to Adam, once upon a time.

"I'll see you in hell, Lucifer." Adam said to himself, closing his eyes, as the countdown neared zero.

But explosion followed, none that Adam remembered. Which meant, he thought, that he'd died beforehand. Or maybe the nuclear blast was enough so that he died instantly before his brain or body had the chance to catch up with the feeling.

So, then, why was he thinking?

Adam opened his eyes to a bright white light, which he remembered from ancient human history as the description of an afterlife, before they'd mostly given up on religions. Two pairs of eyes seemed to appear above him, floating there in the brightness.

"God?" Adam mumbled in confusion.

"No, but you can call me that if you'd like, sweetheart." Lucifer said mockingly, and Adam's vision became more clear. "I saved your sorry ass before your ship went kablooey. You're now a prison of my Kingdom and my ring of coalition planets, Adam. We'll be seeing a lot of each other from now on. How's mercy taste?" Lucifer's grin was sharp, pointed, predatory.

Adam remembered that ancient humans used to have another name for the devil.

Maybe he was in hell.

[ryuzakemo128]

Life After Death

Requested? No

Content Warning: Possible mentions of death, illness, suicide, murder and among other things. If you are triggered by the mentioned topics or any that remain unlisted I urge you that you do no read this content for the sake of your mental health and wellbeing.

Pairing: Bjorn Ironside x Female Reader

Summary: Your relationship is dying, about to die and you know the only way to get better was to end the relationship. Before you could end the relationship, you find out that he was unfaithful the entire time you were together. Leaving you heartbroken and carrying his unborn child inside of you. As well as your sons.

Author's Note: This is to help those who may be suffering through a heartbreaking break-up or a divorce. This is my love letter to you and I hope you find yourself forgiving yourself for whatever might have caused it to happen.

You found out a week ago and now you couldn't even bring yourself to even look at him. "You are lucky we never got married." You say to him. "You are lucky our children are too young to understand any of this and once I leave, you are never seeing the one that is yet to be born."

You didn't want to hear more of his pathetic excuses, as you packed the carriage getting ready to move to a farm near the village. It was the only place you could afford on such short notice. The children would have to go to the village school and you'd have to find work. The thought of leaving everything you'd built together was almost unbearable, you knew you couldn't stay. He'd never change. He'd always be a selfish, careless man who put his own pleasures above everything else.

Luckily, you were only three months pregnant and you were able to hide your condition from him until now. It was a small mercy. As you left the house, your heart felt like it was being ripped out of your chest. You clutched the reins of the carriage, taking deep breaths to steady your nerves. You knew that you had made the right decision, it still hurt and it still stung. He made his bed and now you intend to force him to stay inside of it.

Before you and your young children could leave that afternoon, you heard a voice from further away, the carriage was packed with your luggage and all your children were aware of. They were going to their grandmother's for a while. They were excited, unaware of the real reason why they were leaving, or that they were leaving their father behind. They were waiting inside of the carriage, their small whispers excited by the fact they were going to be able to see ducks, chickens, and other animals that their grandmother kept.

You heard him mutter something. You ignored him. You trusted him, you loved him and you thought you had a good life together. You had no idea that he was so unhappy. It was too late now. There was nothing you could do about it. You couldn't go back in time and change the past. All you could do now was focus on the future and make sure your children grow up in a happy, healthy environment.

Once you were on the road to the farm, you stepped into the carriage and into another life for you. For your children and the one that would be born soon. It wasn't the best option, but it was the only option that seemed to fit with what you need.

Your mother would be happy with the arrangement. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than what you had before. The farm was small, but it was self-sufficient. You could grow your own food, milk the cows, tend to the chickens, and make a living off the land. It was honest work, and it was all that you could ask for. Until you could possibly heal and move on, this would have to do.

Your mother, Freyja, "I am sorry things ended this way my dear," she said to you as you walked into the cabin, the scent of freshly baked bread filling the air. "But I'm glad you're here with me now. We'll make the best of it." She put her arm around you, her strength surprisingly comforting. "Now, let's get you settled in and we'll talk about how you'll help around the farm. Then we can organize where you and your children can sleep. How does that sound?"

You nodded, trying to muster up a smile. You knew your mother meant well, but the thought of living here, so far away from Bjorn, was almost unbearable. You had to remind yourself that it was for the best. For your children's sake, you had to protect them from their father's selfish ways. Your children ran around the field, your mother's dogs keeping watch over them, their laughter filling the air. It was a peaceful scene, one that you hoped would become routine for you all.

Your father passed when you were young, you didn't know much about him other than he was faithful to your mother to a fault. You were one out of five children they had together, you were raised by her and her alone after your father died. You wonder how she managed to do so on her own for so long after his death.

You asked your mother, "How did you manage to grieve and still care for us?"

She looked at you with a small smile and said, "It wasn't easy, my dear. There were days when I thought I couldn't go on. But I had to, for you and your siblings. Your father wasn't the best, but he certainly wasn't the worst and I thank my lucky stars that I met him when I did. Even if it was for a little while. The world was peaceful, and I had you all to take care of. The work on the farm kept me busy, and in time, it became a part of me. It's all I've ever known. You are not to blame for what he decided to do."

To her you would always be her little girl, her little angel who couldn't do wrong and she would always be there for you, no matter what. Your siblings had grown up and started their own lives, but you and your mother were still very close. You would help her around the farm, tend to the animals, and grow the crops. It was hard work, but you enjoyed being outdoors and being close to nature. Life on the farm was simple, yet fulfilling. She was there for you, just like she was there for her siblings when they needed her.

You would heal. You would learn to forgive and move forward. You were determined to find someone that will love all of you.

Prompt List/ Masterlist: Link

Dividers: Link

Previous/ other masterlists: Masterlist 01 / Masterlist 02

[sloancameronspits]

Shattered Relics

A new Overwatch grunt who isn't quite ready for the field finds themselves enmeshed with a sweet archaeologist who saves them from peril. Venture x reader, hurt/comfort, romantic by the end. CW for non-life threatening injuries. Word count: 3014

This is something I wrote primarily for myself as a result of my Venture obsession and as an experiment in first-person writing, but feel free to insert yourself into it too if you'd like. The reader is gender neutral, after all. Loosely based on Venture's animated intro.

---

As the sands near Petra came into view, the reality of joining Overwatch fully hit me for the first time. It was possible, albeit difficult, to repress the anxiety in the training simulations. Here, thousands of miles from home, it simply wasn’t tenable anymore. I approached the front lines, where Overwatch soldiers were in conflict with Talon operatives attempting to steal a cache of precious artifacts. I wasn’t high rank enough to know any details about the artifacts, but the higher-ups seemed confident that their security was a critical task for Overwatch.

I repeated what I had to do in my head. Steady grip. Careful aim. A bullet whizzes past my head. Shit. Shit. I’m going to die. I drop the gun, falling to my knees in the sand. I knew this was a bad idea. I could hear shouts, but I couldn’t make out any of the words. Another bullet impact, far above me this time, followed by a horrible crack. I’m only able to look up for a moment before a shard of rock hits me, and consciousness fades.

---

The first thing I noticed on waking up was the red sandstone ceiling above me, followed by my surroundings. I was lying on a sleeping bag in a small cavern, next to a tent and unlit fire pit. Definitely not where I was earlier. Well, I’m not dead. The next thing I noticed was the intense pain shooting through my body. 

“Ow. Fuck. Ow.” I couldn’t restrain myself from shouting aloud to no one in particular. To my surprise, there was a response.

“Oh!” An exclamation, far too chipper for the situation, came from nearby. “You’re awake! I was starting to worry you were gonna be history.” A mop of messy brown hair mixed with sand, dirt, and a pair of extremely scuffed goggles came first out of the tent, followed by the rest of the strange person.

I was dazed. “Who… are you… with Overwatch?” My speech unsteady, I tried to sit up. Sharper pain shot through my legs. I winced and fell back down.

“I, uh, wouldn’t do that.” The strange person frowned. “You got beat up pretty bad.” They reached out a hand for a shake before realizing my position couldn’t accommodate such an action, sheepishly retracting it. “Sloan Cameron. I’m with the Wayfinder Society.”

I managed to pull myself together at least enough to hold a conversation. “So what am I doing here, I guess is my question.” I asked flatly, still stunned.

“Oh! Well that’s easy to explain!” Sloan’s eyes lit up. “So. We’re here at Petra trying to find some cool artifacts. I’m here, drilling away-” They gestured to the incredibly large drill resting beside their tent. “And I hear a bunch of commotion outside. I try to ignore it, but some Talon goons break in looking for any of our finds, so Venture jumps into action!”

I smirk. “Venture?”

Sloan glances away, embarrassed. “It’s uh, my codename. I think it’s cool. Anyway, I drove them out of the digsite and decided to help out the Overwatch fighters get rid of the rest of those Talon jerks.” The word wasn’t harsh, but their glare and tone made their hatred clear. “Oh! And then I spotted someone trapped under a rock. That would be, uh. You. And I couldn’t bear to leave someone injured there, so I carried you back here!”

“Thank you. I-” My incoming apology is cut off by a cough.

“Here.” Sloan lay a gentle hand on the nape of my neck, propping up my head and pouring water into my mouth. I hadn’t realized how dry my throat was - I wasn’t used to the desert. Their hand was rough, calloused from the hard work of excavation, but it still gave a tender, caring touch. My eyes fixated on their other hand, clutching the flask of water, and I slowly moved my gaze along their arms. Nicely toned - can’t be easy lugging around a drill that size. They were able to carry me, too, so they must be pretty strong…

“Ay. Eyes up here.” Sloan said sternly. When I met their eyes with mine, they gave another wide smile. “Figured if you were staring you’d at least want to see my famous smile.” One of their front teeth was chipped, but it didn’t affect the infectiousness of their joy one iota.

Caught red-handed, I couldn’t help but feel a bit of shame, even if they didn’t seem to mind that much. I finished the last of the water and let my head hit the sleeping back again. “So… Venture? Uh… Sloan?” I said, ending off with a lilt of uncertainty.

“Either’s fine!” They cheerily replied.

“Good to know. So, what about those artifacts you’re protecting?”

“Aha! You didn’t doubt Venture, did you?” They rummaged through their pack, furrowing their brow for a moment before triumphantly retrieving a small golden object with the face of Anubis. “This little ushabti is something I’ve chased for a while. It used to be in Cairo, but now it’s here in Petra. Now, you might notice that it’s shaped like Anubis. I’m not sure why it was brought here of all places, but I have some theories-” They stopped suddenly. “Sorry. I’m rambling.”

“No! Go on, I like your enthusiasm.”

“Really? Most people outside of the Society get bored. Anyway, I think there must be some kind of group here worshiping Anubis. I don’t have any proof of it yet, but why else would they bring it here?” They put a hand on their chin. “I guess they could just be thieves, but that’s way less fun.”

“Well, if you’re able to fight against those Talon soldiers, I assume you’ve got the wherewithal to deal with whatever horrible curses you’ll dredge up by disturbing a ritual site.” I joked.

“Oh my gosh. Do you think it’d be cursed? That would be so cool.” Their eyes were wide, lit with excitement. “I shouldn’t keep you up, though. You should really get some more sleep. I’ve called some of my colleagues back at base camp. They’re gonna come by and get you later tonight and take you back to get some actual medical attention.”

“Are the other Wayfinders like you?”

Sloan laughed. “No, they’re much more serious. They let me do my own thing.”

My mood soured, and from Venture’s expression it was visible on my face. “That’s a shame. I was really enjoying listening to you…”

“Hmmm…” Their eyes wandered as they lost themselves in thought. “I mean, you’re totally free to stay in my room at the outpost if you can’t get enough of little ol’ me.” They shot a pair of finger guns along with a wink.

“I… I’d like that.” I said, eyes fluttering closed. “If it’s not too much of a burden.”

“Course not!” Even with eyes closed I could tell from their tone they were grinning. “It’s a date.”

---

The boundary between sleep and consciousness was thin. My body needed the rest, but my mind was sick of sleep. By the time I finally woke up fully, night had fallen. The air was cold, but a fire now crackled at the formerly ashen fire pit. I made an effort to sit up - a successful one, this time. Perhaps the injuries weren’t as severe as I’d thought?

“Howdy hey.” Venture gave a quick wave from beside the fire. They were now wearing a thick yellow jacket and seemed considerably more comfortable, though they had a fresh few markings of dirt on their face. “Glad to see you up. I made some tea; ya want some?”

I nodded, and they passed over a nondescript mug filled with an enchantingly warm tea. “I’m surprised you’re able to keep this from breaking. I mean you’ve got to move around so much in this line of work…”

“Oh, they break. That’s why it’s so boring and cheap.” They said. “Plus, it means that my bags always come back with pottery shards even if I don’t find anything!”

I laugh and take a sip. “Well, the tea inside is still nice. Thank you.”

“Of course! My culinary skills are second to none.” They laughed a bit before adding quietly, “They don’t let me cook back at base after the incidents.”

I paused for a moment, then continued to sip a bit slower. “You’ll have to tell me about that some time.”

“Aaaaaaanyway-” They said, cutting me off a bit. “Your, uh, low-tech medivac will be here soon, and I can show you around the Wayfinder Society Petra Forward Operating Base! Hope you can used to rooming with two other people though, it might get a bit cramped.”

“Two? I didn’t know you had a roommate. I hope it won’t be too much for them.”

“Ah, it’s really no worries. Rosetta loves people!”

---

The trip from Venture’s makeshift campsite to the Wayfinders’ larger outpost wasn’t too long, though the terrain meant it wasn’t exactly the smoothest ride. Still, it was worth it to avoid the whiplash of hot days and cold nights of the desert. The outpost was sterile and scientific, upsettingly similar to the Overwatch training simulations I’d grown to despise, but it was nice to be somewhere climate controlled for the first time in a few days. 

“Here we are! Not much, but it’s mine. And now yours!” Sloan excitedly said upon us reaching their tiny room. Despite its size, it managed to contain a bunk bed and plenty of the archaeologist’s trinkets.

“You mentioned a roommate? Are they here?”

“Oh, Rosetta? Yeah, she’s over there.” Sloan pointed toward a nearby table.

Puzzled, I followed their finger. The table had a small rock with googly eyes stuck on. “Venture.” I said flatly.

They were grinning. “Anyway, I gotta go talk about my findings to the higher-ups. Feel free to get to know each other. I’ll be back later byeee-” They trailed off as they half-jogged away from the room. They really were a strange one.

“Well. Just you and me, Rosetta. How are you doing?” I asked, still harboring some strange belief that she might respond. She did not. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised that a rock did not respond, but Venture’s attitude toward it gave me some pause, even if it was… unlikely. In lieu of a conversation with an inanimate object, I chose instead to view the baubles Sloan had chosen to bring along. It was a surprising amount for someone so nomadic, a table covered in rocks given less reverence than Rosetta, along with a few pictures stuck to the wall. There were a lot of pictures of Venture at the pyramids, smiling that wide smile that I had already become so fond of, along with a varied collection of other rocks. These didn’t seem to be given personalities, however.

I was still sore from my injuries, so I sat down on the edge of the bed and checked my phone. No messages. Of course. The rest of Overwatch probably thought I was dead. Probably for the best, as this might have technically been deserting. At least the signal was good. I flicked through social media idly. Nothing particularly interesting, but at least it was a distraction.

I lost track of time, and a quick knock at the door jolted me back to reality. It had been longer than I realized if they were already back. They gently opened the door and I immediately realized something was wrong. They were holding two ice cream cones, but their face was sunken.

“Want one?” They offered one of the cones to me, eyes staring straight down. I took it carefully, suddenly deeply concerned for them.

“Am I… causing trouble, Sloan?”

They shook their head, their mop of hair shaking with it. “It’s not you, don’t worry. I am just frustrated.” They flopped onto their bed, one hand raised to carefully protect their own ice cream. “Mind if I complain? I know you’ve dealt with a lot, but…”

I took a lick of my ice cream. “Go ahead. I want to know what happened.”

They sighed deeply. “I told my higher-ups about that ushabti I showed you. I told them that there had to be a deeper reason for Talon bringing it here. They looked me right in the eye and said I was being unrealistic; that it was probably just that Talon was stealing it to fund their activities.” They took a big bite out of their ice cream, then continued, voice quavering. They were on the verge of tears. “They don’t believe in me, y’know? They think I’m a kid. I’m twenty-six! I’ve been with the Society for ten years!” They winced. “Ow. Brain freeze.”

“Are you worried they’re gonna like, fire you?”

“Nah. Nobody else can fend off Talon agents like me, so my job security is really high. I just wish they’d believe in me.”

I thought for a moment. “Best way to get them to listen is to find some more proof.”

They sat up, trying to maintain their composure. “That’s what I was thinking. I didn’t expect anyone else to think it was a good idea. Usually people don’t.”

“I mean, I can’t exactly help directly… but I’d be happy to stay with you and provide whatever I can.”

“You can accompany me back to the dig site if you want. I’d enjoy the company at the very least.” They smiled bashfully. “Oh! We should probably wait until you’re healed, though.”

I took stock of my body. “A few more days should do me. I’m really not hurt as bad as I thought. Anxiety got to me, maybe.” I finished off my cone. “Do you guys get ice cream a lot here?”

“Nah, this is a treat since I had a bad day. I’ve got connections at the cafeteria.” They finished theirs as well. “Ice cream always makes me feel better. Working at an ice cream parlor was the only other job I’ve had. I was so excited that I could eat as much free ice cream as I wanted while on the job…” They sighed dreamily. “Turned out I couldn’t. I had just assumed that I could.” They grinned. “I got fired.”

---

A few more days of rest had me together enough to go out in the field. While Venture told me not to push myself and that they were fine waiting for me, I could tell in their eyes that they missed the digsite. There were other things I noticed about them, of course. The way their laugh sounded, their chipper greetings in the morning, the way their body curved in just the right ways…

It was worth spending the day in the hot desert sun, watching Sloan as they sunk deeper and deeper into the earth below them. Their beautiful hair was smothered by dust and sand, sweat pouring in rivulets down their face, goggles making impressions around their eyes. They were still beautiful, despite it all.

“SLOAN!” I yelled, trying to be heard, over the din of their excavator. “DO YOU WANT TO BREAK FOR LUNCH?”

Their excavator shut off, the drill spinning to a halt. They panted for a moment, then pulled off their goggles. “I uh…” They struggled to catch their breath. “If you need to, go ahead. I wanna go just a little bit deeper. The ground feels like it’s getting softer? It makes no sense.” They grinned. “I’ve gotta be close to a big discovery.”

I watched from a distance as they spun their drill back up, and slowly sunk beneath the earth into their current borehole. Slowly their head sank, and then they vanished, along with a scream. Shocked, I ran over and found the hole they were digging had collapsed into a much larger cavern.

“I’m okay!” Venture’s yell echoed from the bottom of the cavern. “Can you throw a rope down? There should be one in my bag.”

Trying to manage my panic, I hurried over to Venture’s bag and found a length of rope. I tied it to a nearby pole for the tent and threw it down the hole. “Sloan? Did you get it?” I shouted down. No response. “Venture?” Still hearing no response, I checked the strength of the rope. It was secure enough. I carefully climbed down, fearing the worst.

At the bottom of the pit, I began desperately searching for Sloan. It didn’t take long. They were standing in a strange glow, totally entranced by something ahead. I put my hand on their shoulder and saw it too. The far side of the cavern was dominated by a huge artificial structure, or perhaps a titanic Omnic - and it had the face of Anubis. I stood stunned.

After a brief moment, Venture broke the silence. “I knew something had to be here… I wonder, is this based on the Egyptian god, or the AI Anubis…” They trailed off for a moment before noticing my hand on their shoulder. “Oh! You’re here! I can’t take this. This has the potential to define my work for decades. I need to get more people out here. Gosh, there’s so many emotions.” Their eyes met mine. “I, um. Can I?”

I nodded silently.

They leaned in, cupping my face in their calloused hands. I wrapped mine around their shoulders, fingers in their messy, matted hair. It was not the most delicate kiss, but as I fell into their grip and let their lips meet mine, I couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful one. They held on, squeezing me tight, backlit by the glow of their new find. 

When they finally pulled away, eyes wide with joy, I managed to summon enough bravery to ask Sloan a question. “So, does this mean I can stay with you and the Wayfinders?”

They grinned. “It’s an unusual situation, but with a find like this, I’m sure they’ll be happy to keep you on as my special research assistant. And I’m happy to keep you on as my partner too.” Sloan said with a wink.

[whorediaries-09]

the wound won't close

pairing- sirius black x auror!reader warning(s)- hurt/comfort. a/n- it's about you fell in love with something that loves you back and that my friend is sirius black 🗣️🗣️

little train. series masterlist.

remus slid a plate of pancakes across the table, along with a big old cup of sirius' personal poison-the earl gray. the cup is brightly maroon, chipped from the edges as it touches his lips. sirius takes a small sip, letting the liquid burn down his throat.

'you still got it.' sirius chuckles. remus bemused, scoffs. he slides his long fingers into his sandy locks before answering.

'eat. put some flesh within your madness.'

'well you'd know all about the madness within the flesh, wouldn't you?' he says.

'you never came, sirius. the letter. i showed up and stayed there for about two hours, waiting for you.' sirius gulps before answering him.

'i ended up into a pub. i don't know why or how, but i did. the question is how did you get here?' remus moves his lips to answer, but when you enter the room, coddling with the little owl perched on your shoulder, he thinks better of it.

'he is asking me how i came here.' the owl nips at your ear before flapping it's wings and sitting beside sirius' plate, taking away little nibbles from his pancakes.

'well... i'm working on trying to justify the prejudice against half-breeds. i can't directly do it since i don't have the position in the ministry to, but for that i need a few statements. remus is the only werewolf i knew so.. well i've been in contact with him. that is basically the root of why me and remus know each other.'

'so you're just an angel from heaven.' sirius replies, taking another bite.

'i don't care who is who, padfoot. i need to know what happened.'

'james made peter the secret-keeper the last moment, upon my wishes. he faked his own death to frame me for the murders he committed. the bastard cut off his own finger-apparently the only thing they found from that night.'

'so you're not to blame?'

'no. you know i'd rather die than kill james! he was my family!' he exclaimed. he dropped the fork onto the plate.

'you know, i suspected you to the spy' he whispered, almost ashamed. you could see blood rush underneath his pale skin as tears welled into his eyes. the thought of getting back an old friend was of great joy to him. the thought of not being lonely again was hauntingly beautiful.

*-

'you look like you're about to pass out, sweetheart.' sirius commented, huffing on your state. your papers were spread across the table, your hands stained with ink as you went through the necessary documents. remus had already left for home, leaving you to nurture for him. sirius had taken a nap after his breakfast, leaving you with enough time to sit alone with your thoughts.

'i know.' you replied. with tired limbs, your stretched your aching body. having sleepless nights wasn't of much absurdity to you. you'd spent endless of sleep less nights practicing your spells to be at the position you were. to be an auror at twenty four wasn't something of a joke, yet you'd managed to do it just the same.

even if that meant losing friends and family.

'what are you doing anyway?' he asked. he walked around the table, sitting in front of you. he was carrying a dark blue cup, steam pouring out the rim.

'i'm looking over the things i require and how many people's shoes i have to lick to change a few laws,' you answered, your eyes averting to his form as you answered. his loose linen white shirt was unbuttoned, revealing an intricate design of tattoos on his chest. black sweatpants hung on narrow hips. you could see tattoos emerging from the expanse of the skin on his legs too.

'are you feeling better now?' you asked, collecting your spread out sheets in an orderly fashion. sirius nodded.

'i am, thanks to you and moony.' you packed your things into your bag, handing him a little piece of paper.

'here's my address, sirius. if you need me, you can write to me. your owl will find me'

'are you leaving now?' he asked, looking at the piece of paper tucked into his palm.

'yes.' you said. a brief moment of sadness flashed on his face before he quipped you with another request.

'stay, you're tired.'

'no, i...i'm not' you answered, trying to stifle a yawn half way through your statement. it leaves your lips anyways. he smiles, in a comforting manner, as he rests his face on his palm.

'you're a pathetic liar,' he states, 'you can rest here as long as you want to. i have a free room down the hall.' nervously, you rub the back of your head, trying to avoid the burning gaze upon you.

'that would be of major inconvenience-i don't think-' before you realize, has his index finger on your lips. how he got up from the chair to be standing in front of you with such fast agility was a mystery.

'it is not of any inconvenience, i assure you. it's an extra room! for guests! you're a guest aren't you?' he said. you couldn't quite meet his eyes, afraid you'd be lost in the depth of them.

'i- uh- you're hungover-'

'sweetheart, look me in the eye and tell me if i'm hungover.' he said, sliding a finger under your jaw. you looked into his eyes, trying not to get lost in them.

'i- okay you win. i'll rest,'

'see, i told you! you should listen to me more often.' that earned a tired laughter out of you.

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original idea posted by - @lilwnet

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