#AND THERES NOT ENOUGH BLOOD IN THIS PAINTING

[st-hedge]

They’re insane and they should’ve kissed about it

[transthatfag]

kinda vampy

[lazorsandparadox]

I dont trust any of yall that say eat the rich anymore because half the time youre not even talking about the rich, youre talking about greg the accountant who owns a house and can maybe afford to take his family on one vacation every year or so. And sometimes youre not even talking about greg, youre talking about his daughter becky who still lives with him because she cant afford to move out. Im begging yall to learn the difference between "has disposable income" and "literally has so much wealth that its harmful"

"Rich" does not simply mean "has nicer things than you" and if that how you take it to mean then i dont know man, maybe you should get off your soapbox and go read a book or something

[l0v3s1ck-b1tch]

bloods so prettyyyyyy

i love painting in it but when it dries i dont like the colour as much :<<<<

[i-smoke-chapstick]

‘SAILOR SONG,

-THEPENGUIN!SOFIA FALCONE X READER-

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; You run into Sofia at Berto’s funeral. You’re the only one who can calm her down.

⋆ tags/warnings. sofia falcone x female reader. ANGST AND COMFORT!! Might make this a series if anyone likes it enough <3 she’s my literal BABY im so in love with her it makes me want to kms! she deserves SO much better i just wanna give her a hug (and a kiss). slight homophobia mentions, past relationships (but unclear), THE HANGMAN!!!!! Based on 1x2, bertos funeral ! she is my girlfailure wife and i need her

♫ “Begging, baby, would you please? / Do the things you said you'd do to me. / And when we're getting dirty, I forget all that is wrong / I sleep so I can see you 'cause I hate to wait so long.” Sailor Song by Gigi Perez

High tides. That’s what Gotham is, after the haunted return of the Batman. At least, that’s all you see around you now. Theres blood in the water, and the sharks have all come to hunt.

You think it’s all bullshit. The bat, the Riddler, this fucking funeral. You hardly knew the man, and you know it’s a waste of time. Everyone dressed in black here is only cutting their losses. It’s all out of fear. Berto was unabashedly himself. And that was weak. He tried too hard to be his father.

You scan the funeral, which might as well be a party for some of these fuckers, and hold your breath. Okay, maybe you’re more upset than you’d like to admit. Nihilism appeases the soul where optimism does not. You’d only had very few conversations with him, but he was…nice, to some extent.

It’s a day of mourning. And that’s what you do. Memories come to you in unsafe and ungrateful waves, alerting you of every interaction you’d ever had with the man of the night.

“Hey, so,” He scratched the side of his head with his index finger. “Wha- What’s up with you and my sister?” A bitter smile on his face, nose scrunched in faux curiosity. You’d known better. You grew up your entire life in Gotham, and you had known a thinly veiled threat when you’d heard it.

“Sofia?” You’d asked, lighting a cigarette. The sunset flooded through Italy’s streets. It wasn’t your first summer here. You took a long drag of smoke, thinking of how to phrase your answer. The Falcones weren’t stupid, none of them were, not really. “Nothing.” You settled on, dabbling it out in the ash tray. “Why?”

You’d expected some bullshit to fly from his mouth. The family…That you were an outsider. That whatever the two of you had going on was distasteful. A woman and a woman. Not a good look in the papers. Weak willed woman frolicking together in Gotham’s underground. You expected him to insult you, and her. What would their father think?

But Alberto didn’t say anything like that.

“If you hurt her,” He began, and you felt yourself visibly recoil. “I’ll have to, you know,” He motioned with his hands, forming a gun with his forefinger against his temple, and a pew sound. “Pop your top.”

Returning to yourself, you find it in yourself to be greatful. For Alberto, not ratting the two of you out. Whatever you two had…was more than the both of you ever managed to let on. Small touches here and there, kisses when you played house. Laughing underneath streetlamps, painting her nails. And then she got locked up in Arkham. Your best…friend.

And now she’s finally released. Idiots with poster boards outside begging for her return to the loony bin. She’s somewhere in this house, on the same floor as you.

You mindlessly sip on your glass. Alchohol is your real friend tonight. The undergrounds in shambles, the entire city is. What’s stopping you from leaving? You don’t know. Not until you see her.

She trails in the room, and the first thing you hear are overwhelming whispers. You don’t pay attention to them, how could you? Her hair tied up messily, sticky bangs and beads of sweat on her forehead. Her makeup is neat, but just barely smudged.

She’s bug eyed as she enters, chest heaving in…anger? fear? She pays much more attention to the whispers than you do, you realize.

“She’s crazy,” You hear from behind you. Faces hide behind there glasses and hands, leaning down and gossiping amongst themselves. It makes you sick. She makes you sick. Even more so, as she seems to lose herself. It starts with a small bite, digging at the finger food, before she picks up heaps of it in her palms. Over and over and over again…

“That’s enough,” You whisper, sternly, grabbing her forearm. Her mouth almost drops open with the food, eyes widening even more. She stops chewing, and for a moment, it seems everything and everyone is finally scilenced.

She doesn’t say a word in her shock, her arm falling down. She lets you guide her out the room, and the both of you ignore the comments from passerbys.

When you finally reach an empty room, you close the door. Her blood runs cold, and she’s perpelled to the edge of the room, like a cornered and vulnerable prey animal.

“What are you doing here?” Sofia drawls, clearing her throat. Her cheeks are tinged pink from embarassment, and her nose twitches in frustration.

“I knew him too.”

“No, you didn’t.” She remarks, firm in her stance. Her jaw is clenched tight, and you sigh. You make your way over to a couch, sitting down lazily. It doesn’t feel how it used to.

“Yeah, I didn’t. But I got an invitation.”

She ignores you. Straight to the point.

“You’ve heard. What they are saying about me, out there.”

“Hard not too.”

She scoffs, letting out a hmph noise. She turns away from you, blinking.

“Well. Do you believe it?” She tests, arms crossed. You feel your eyebrows scrunch, and you give her a once over. You want to scream at her, that she isn’t crazy. That whatever she’s done isn’t her fault, not completely. But you can’t claw the words out- not after not seeing her in years.

“You do, don’t you?” She continues. She stops pacing the room to take a seat parallel to you. You bite your tongue.

A beat of silence, and something in her dark eyes takes it as your final answer. Theres something deeper, darker swirling in them you can’t quite place. She’s not the same girl you knew as a child.

“No,” You whisper, finally, and watch her perk up. “You’re not crazy.”

She stays silent as she looks at you disbelievingly. Like you’re saying it simply to appease her. You find it in yourself to let the tension melt away, leaning back into the cushions.

“You don’t need help.” You affirm, and her expression is unreadable. “You aren’t broken. Or whatever those fuckhead doctors told you in Arkham. You’re just…” You trail off, needing to word this right. “You’re just your fathers daughter.”

You expect her to ask ‘what thats supposed to mean?’ but she doesn’t. No…she looks too vulnerable in this light to fight back against you. Again, silence sounds, and you wonder if you’ve made a mistake.

It’s only when she speaks, voice trembling, do you see her resolve break.

“Why didn’t you visit me?” It’s quiet, almost a whimper, and her voice breaks. “In Arkham?”

There it is. The question you’d been dreading, mostly because you didn’t know the answer yourself.

Her eyebrows are pulled together, nails clenched into her own skin. You go to tear them from her palms, opening them up to find the marks. She doesn’t say a word. She makes no move to push you away. She’s too tired. She’s greiving, her father, her mother, her brother, her sanity.

You lean down, and press a gentle kiss to her nails. A strangled sound is ripped from her at the action, and you notice how her eyes turn glossy. You decide to ignore the question for now, watching tears finally slip from her eyes. She’d been holding them in for what felt like forever. But not with you, she finds, she could never hide anything from you.

You pull her in, embracing her for all its worth. She immeadiatley falls into you, open mouthed sobs against your shoulder. You hug her tight, and it feels blissful. After so long of only seeing her on TV reports and pictures, touching her, feeling her, is heavenly. Just like it used to be.

She still smells the same. Her makeup runs as she cries into your shoulder, and you gently hush her. You pet her head and hair, cradling her like she’s fragile glass about to break. She’s yours. You’re hers. You always have been.

Rocking her back in forth, you place a kiss on her forehead. When she leans into you, you place more. Soft little pecks across her skin, to her head, wrist. You kiss all her tears away as they fall. Sweet and salty, wetting your lips. You feel her try to catch her breath.

She pulls away from you, hair messy. Her lips are parted, and her pupils blown, and theres a silent promise in the air between the two of you. I’m with you. Im on your side. I am the woman who wants you to win.

Her hand trails to your cheek, and she looks at you worshipfully. Her eyes flit to your lips, as if asking, begging for just one.

You nod. You could never deny her anything. She leans in, tentiavley, before connecting your lips. Memories flash through your head. She tastes the same, acacia honey and cigarette smoke. Besides yourself, you deepen the kiss, and she responds tenfold.

Her hands thread through your hair with a gentle tug, as if there is a feral need buried underneath her skin, to possess you. Remind herself you are here, and you are hers, not an illusion. Not a nightmare. She would kill for you.

You have to almost fight her to part for air, pulling away with heavy breaths. She doesn’t let you get far, resting her forehead against yours.

For better or for worse, she has stuck her claws in you. You realize she will not let you go. Not tonight. Not tommorrow. Not ever.

Breath intermingling, her body heat radiating against yours, you can’t find it in yourself to care.

You stay like that, unanswered questions still plaguing the silence. You’ll answer them one day. For now, you choose only to lose yourselves in one another.

You regret not telling Alberto the truth before he died. She’s not nothing to you. She’s everything.

[raisin-writes]

one piece men hcs: period sex

featuring the blorbos of my choice- law, bartolomeo, bellamy, corazon, and doflamingo

warnings: blood (obviously), narsty boys (looking directly at barto), smut, period eating

nsfw under the cut, minors dni 🫵👁️👁️💢

Law:

• im sorry babe, he may be a doctor and he may not be squeamish about touching peoples organs and blood, but he will not go down on you on your period 😔 (coward).

• hes kinda weird about period sex, he'll do it if you ask him super sweetly and look at him with those big pathetic puppy eyes, and he'll sigh dramatically and agree to it, but he really doesnt like doing it on the bed, he prefers the bathroom where its easiest to clean.

• usually he's kind enough to finger fuck you when you ask for it, but hes quick to pull his hand out of your pants and run to the sink to wash his hands off before shooing you to bed with a peck on the forehead. hes a busy man, hes got work to do.

• when he does have time, though, he'll make sure to take proper care of you afterwards.

• he'll offer to bring you water, a snack, pain meds, a towel, a hot pack, hell he'll even carry you to the shower if your legs are too shaky to stand on and clean you off with a gentleness so rarely seen from a man like him.

Bartolomeo:

• NASTY BOY ALERT 🚨🚨🚨

• you dont even need to ask, he'll be able to smell a hint of blood from across the room and hunt you down like a shark.

• begs you to let him eat you out while on his knees, massaging and pawing at your thighs.

• "c'mon sweetheart, i just wanna help ya~"

• VERY enthusiastic eater, if he could stick his tongue up any further into you he would.

• likes when you sit on his face so he can feel the blood and cum dribble down the sides of his face.

• as he's fingering you, he'll suddenly pull his bloody hand up to his lips and suck the liquid off each digit before shoving them back inside you to do it again with a big cocky grin.

• hes fucking ravenous.

• fucks you like an animal and likes watching you coat his cock in red multiple times.

• truthfully, there might not be much blood left to leak out of you by the time hes done with you.

• dont worry, he'll make sure theres plenty of cum to leak out instead.

• hes super super sweet afterwards.

• "im so sorry, i didnt think i'd get so carried away there," he'll scratch the back of his head sheepishly.

• acts like a mother hen while he cleans you up so youre all nice and pretty again- hes usually pretty good about cleaning up after himself when it involves you.

• gets sad and confused when you vehemently refuse to give him a big wet kiss afterwards.

Bellamy:

• another nasty boy, but its more of a theatrical thing.

• hes fine with licking other peoples blood off his face, this isnt much different to him.

• he does play it up for you a bit (and the invisible audience in his head, he has to look cool for them always).

• makes a big show of lapping it up while locking eyes with you.

• the wide, wolfish grin on his face while his tongue swipes over the stray blood dripping off his lower lip makes you whine.

• he'll finger you whenever you ask even when you arent menstruating, it makes no difference to him, he just likes seeing you come undone on his hand.

• will let you dry hump his towel-covered thigh if hes too busy with something like a log or a paint manual (hes a study-at-the-last-possible-minute kinda guy).

• he'll fuck you however you need him to.

• want him to put you in a mating press and make you squirt all over his stomach?

• no problem.

• need something slow and tender like sitting in his lap while he gently rocks into you?

• he can do that too.

• hes a man that aims to please, and will almost never turn down the opportunity to stuff you full of himself.

• surprisingly decent at aftercare.

• he'll make sure youre mostly clean and get some water for you both before he stuffs you under his arm like a teddy bear to cuddle.

Corazon:

• hes surprised when you first ask to have sex with him on your period.

• he didnt think he would be very into it at first but the seemingly deeper intimacy of it...

• and the way youre so much more weak and pliant for him when youre like this... it does something to him.

• something clicks in him that hes gotta take care of you.

• only you.

• he's reluctant to eat you out, but he'll do it while looking up at you to make sure youre enjoying it.

• hes careful with foreplay and even more careful with the main event.

• the tenderness of the moment will probably make him cry, he feels so connected to you like this.

• doesnt even let himself savor his own release (if he even cums at all, your pleasure is so much more important in this moment) before he trips over himself to get you snacks and water and pain meds and anything he could possibly think to make you more comfortable.

• make sure to cuddle him tight and give him a big thank you kiss for all his hard work.

• he might cry again, hes just so full of love right now.

Doflamingo:

• on one hand, he thinks its kinda dirty and filthy.

• but on the other hand... hes kinda into the dirty and filthy aspect.

• he doesnt eat you out, but if you really beg him, he'll make his string clone do it while he holds you.

• even if its not the real doffy, his tongue alone makes you melt into a puddle on the mattress.

• as soon as you've cum enough for his liking, he'll shove the clone out of the way and get to work on stretching you open for himself.

• hes not very comforting, but he'll make sure youre more than satisfied so long as he gets satisfaction too.

• is decent enough to let you adjust to him but his patience does have a limit, so hurry up and relax for him already, hes got other things he needs to get done today.

• hes not as gentle as you want him to be, but he'll get you to the finish line even if you cant keep his pace.

• having you so sensitive and compliant for him like this makes him all the more cocky (unfortunately).

• heavy on the teasing dirty talk.

• "so weak and helpless for me, pet... what would you even do without me here to take care of you?"

• always makes you cum hard on his cock; if you squirt, all the better for his ego.

• he has to admit, something stirs in his gut when he sees your blood dripping out alongside his cum.

• not very hands-on with the aftercare portion; it truthfully wigs him out being that vulnerable, even if its you.

• he'll send a maid in to help you clean up with anything that you might need or ask for.

• what really surprises you is the pretty bouquet that comes in along with the other aftercare items.

• ...

• it doesnt happen very often, but he'll stay to cuddle with you for a little bit before the maid comes if you manage to grab him before he leaves- you dont even have to say anything for him to know what you want.

• he supposes he can indulge you sometimes.

[sentientfunfetti]

killer!wally/reader hcs

(killer wally and his au were made by @itskorrychang on tumblr and twitter! go support their work!)

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK APPRECIATED!

CW// THEMES OF DEATH, POSSESSIVENESS, ABANDONMENT AND LONELINESS.

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when you two first meet, he’s wary of you and a lot more aggressive. that is until you show that you’re not a threat. it takes a while, but when he finally does fall for you he’s head over heels. to the point you can’t leave his sight. he follows you everywhere.

due to the fear of you abandoning him, and him being all alone again, it’s only natural that he takes steps to make sure that just won’t happen. let it be locking doors, hiding keys, not answering questions. he hates lying, but if it makes you stay the he’s all for it. some things are better kept secret, after all.

speaking of questions: he loves both asking and answering them…but everyone has their limits. unfortunately for you, you tend to reach that limit very easily. if you ask too many too much, he’ll just…stare at you. eyes wide. pupils dilated. lips pressed into a thin line. silent…then carry on as if nothing happened! try not to push his buttons too much. he’s not above putting his pallet knife to use…

can’t imagine a world without you. you’re the kindest neighbor ever, after all!

loves everything about you. especially your eyes. eye contact was a bit hard for him after he lost one of his own, but after you showed up and showed you were accepting of that fact, oh boy did he love that. he loves your eyes, the color, the way they widen when your surprised…the fact you have both of them…

paints you religiously. he doesn’t even need you to model anymore. it seems like every time you turn around theres a new piece, or doodle of you somewhere.

more than anything, he just loves having you around. you brighten his day, make him smile, ease the pain of loneliness. you’re just so sweet. you make him feel warm and fuzzy. he can’t get enough of you.

as soon as you break down his walls, he’d do anything for you. anything. draw blood, trash all of his paintings, take his other eye. anything. all he wants to do is make you smile. make you stay. make you want him. he still doesn’t fully understand romance, or love, but all he knows is that you make him feel something new. something good.

if you two fight, he immediately comes to you apologizing. he’d break into sobs if you didn’t forgive him, and immediately beg you to stay. don’t leave him. if you refuse…well…

in short, he would make you stay if he needed to. he can’t have his favorite neighbor leaving so soon! he’d tie you up to a chair, and feed you everyday. he’d take good care of you. he’d let you out one day if you promise not to try and leave again. if not, then, it’s back to the chair! womp womp!

also loves the fact you’re taller than him. loves when you pick him up and move him around, the fact you have to look down at him, the fact you can cradle him so easily in your arms, he loves sleeping with you, and watching you sleep. you look so peaceful…

speaking of sleep. he’s plagued by nightmares and night terrors (yes those two things are separate things and conditions). you wake up to him screaming and kicking frequently, begging for his late neighbors to stay, for them to stop. at first, you were to afraid to comfort him, or wake him up, but after a bit you began to hold him close, whispering that it was just a dream in his ear as you watch his body relax.

he loves watching you sleep. when he wakes up from nightmares in the middle of the night and you aren’t woken up by his tossing and turning, he just sits up and watches over you. he feels nice knowing that you and him are safe there, together. you’re safe with him. always.

sometimes, he enjoys taking care of you too. he’ll sing to you as you fall asleep, tell you stories, teach you how to draw, anything that puts a smile on your face and makes your day.

when you two aren’t painting or overall just hanging out together, one of his favorite things to do is cuddle you. he loves feeling your body against his (not like that calm down), and he loves looking into your eyes while you two cuddle. more than anything, he loves listening to your heartbeat. it’s something he lacks, and he’s fascinated by it.

he’s fascinated about everything biological with you. one thing he can’t seem to grasp is the fact you can eat…like actually eat. with your mouth. he gasped when he first saw you bite into one of the apples he gave you. he also loves how squishy you are. the feeling of your skin is different than his fuzzy skin. he lets you ask your questions about his anatomy too…as long as you don’t ask too much.

has frequent hallucinations, and episodes where he becomes frantic, irritated and paranoid. sometimes he accuses you of hurting his friends, and taking them away. as scary as it is, you take the time to calm him down, get the knife away from him, and remind him that you’re here for him. that you care. be appreciates this, and most times takes a nap afterwards having spent all his energy tearing the studio apart looking for his friends.

wants to introduce you to Barnaby one day…or at least what’s left of him. doesn’t allow you into the other neighbors houses AT ALL. “neighbor…it’s rude to go into other peoples houses without knocking…naughty naughty…!”

at the end of the day, he’s harmless. as long as you stick around and make sure he’s in high spirits, this can only end well!

author’s note ⊹˚. ♡

just wanted to do some killer wally hcs. i absolutely love this little guy! such a silly little fellow! wahoo!

anyway, i have a few requests to do and some more of my own hcs i wanna do. if you have any requests, don’t be afraid to request them! until then :3

[divinesolas]

Through it all, its still you

r.q: hellooo lovlieee omg i am so inlove with your newest fic with jacaerys, my jaw was on the ground. could I request a fic with jacaerys were it's during the war between blacks and greens and your his betrothed. He goes north and you stay in dragonstone, but then you get taken by the greens. Everyone thinks your dead but you manage to escape and bond with a dragon. then when jacaerys is fighting against the greens, you Show up with your dragon and fight this epic battle. omg I got so carried away sorryyy. maybe with some fluff at the end ?? anyways take care <3

w.c: 4.2k (god i love writing for jace)

c.w: tyrell!reader, written with f!reader in mind but i dont believe theres any mention of gender of reader if so barely, angst, FLUFF! happy ending though it takes awhile to get there, poorly written battle scene, blue fire breathing dragon :3, not proofread

You had not known how long you were sitting in the silence of your room. Usually dragonstone, though you had not been there for very long, was booming with life, jacaerys and lucerys arguing with one another and joffrey laughing, the babies crying or laughing at nothing, baela and rhaena chatting together. But today there was nothing but somber silence. Lucerys was dead. Though you did not know him as well as everyone here did, your heart ached at the thought of the young boy being gone. 

Daemon and rhaenyra had basically locked themselves in the council room after informing you of the news. You worried for them especially after seeing how angry and heartbroken they looked but the person you worried for most was jacaerys. He was off in the north oblivious to what had been happening here. You felt sick to your stomach as you imagined his face finding out the news. He had confided in you before he left. He worried for lucerys and how he would fare on his trip to storm's end and you helped assure him lucerys would be alright. 

You sit in your nightgown clutching hard onto the necklace jacaerys had given you early on into your courtship. 

You had been promised to jacaerys when you were very young much to the dismay of alicent and her father. You were your fathers only daughter and due to the fact he had no uncles, no cousins, no nephews and no direct other male family members you were to inherit everything in highgarden once he passed. You were immediately very fond of jacaerys as soon as the two of you met in the keep. Though the two of you did not get to spend as much time together as you were soon taken back to the highgarden after a couple moon cycles. Before you had left the keep however he had given you this necklace. It was a metal carving of a dragon painted in the colors of his dragon vermax. He had told you he hoped while you were apart you could feel protected by him with his dragon and you cried into his shoulder before you were soon dragged off and did not get to see him for many years. 

Soon enough your name day came and you turned eight and ten and were granted the ability to go to Dragonstone to meet with jacaerys and begin wedding preparations with rhaenyra. What you nor your father had known is that soon war would strike. You knew tensions were high between the family especially after attending the families final dinner where you help jacaerys place ointment on his cheek after aemond had punched him but you did not think things would turn out so horrid for the family. 

So deeply lost in your thoughts you do not notice the quiet footsteps entering your room through an opened window in your room until something a stab punctures your arm and a hand covers your scream before a heavy object slams into your head knocking you out cold. He allows you to sit out cold for a bit, letting your blood pool on the ground soaking your gown and your necklace. While you're passed out the mysterious man scoops you up into his arms, ripping the necklace from your neck and tosses it into the pool of blood before he carefully manages to carry you out through the window and down to an awaiting boat with a couple other masked men who help him chain you down and soon sail away, the image of dragonstone fading farther and farther away. 

Only hours later does jacaerys land back on dragonstone hoping to be greeted by you. Happy that he had been able to secure all the alliances for his mother and felt full of pride when he imagined how happy you would be. What he did not expect when he entered the main room was a somber atmosphere, he notices rhaena has fresh tears sliding off her face and baela attempting to comfort her. Joffrey clung to his rhaenyra side also seeming to be crying. He quickly looks over at daemon who is staring right back at him. “What has happened? Where is lucerys? Where is my betrothed? Tell me at once.” rhaenyra makes her way over to him and clings to him, shoving her face in his neck and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.” he refuses to be true, it can't be true. But when daemon walks over to the pair and opens up his hand to show the necklace jacaerys had given you all those years ago, covered in your blood.

When you open your eyes the first thing you notice is how much your arm hurts, you groan and grab your arm. The sound of a screeching chair and the quick fleeing of the room meets your ears as you sit up and notice your sitting in a very familiar room. This is the room that you had stayed in during your time in the keep, looking exactly how you left it. A part of you is telling you this is a dream, you reach your hand up to wrap around your necklace your grow frantic as you realize it is not there. You feel around the bed and look upon the dresser next to you but there is nothing. In your haste the door opens and your head shoots up. “You are finally awake.” 

“Where is my necklace?” alicent looks at criston next to her who shakes his head, “you did not come wearing a necklace miss.” you groan and immediately try to stand out from bed but immediately feel so dizzy you have to sit back down, your arm throbbing heavily. “What did you do to me?”

Alicent takes a hesitant step closer to you, her arms out as if to comfort you, “you should relax.” “asking me to relax after you kidnap me, are you insane?” you are unable to control your temper as you spit your words at her. Criston immediately clutches his sword and takes a step forward, “that is no way to-” alicent gives him a pointed look and he immediately deflates taking a step back. She hesitantly makes her way to the end of the bed and sits on it looking at you. “I simply wish to speak with you. “So you decide to kidnap me, that makes perfect sense.” you can tell she's irritated at you but does not let it show on her face as she takes a deep breath, a somber look on her face though you cannot tell if it is serious. 

“With your fathers passing everything in highgarden has been left to you, we believe it is in your best interest to declare house tyrell for aegon-” “my father is dead?” you cannot handle the influx of emotions you feel as your hand clenches around the space where your hanging dragon should be craving the feeling of the cold metal and sharp edges on your skin. She nods, placing her hand on your knee and for some reason you let her, the look in her eyes tells you she feels sorry having to break this news to you herself. “Yesterday night in his sleep, his final wish was for you to have highgarden. He stated it to be so.” all you can do is look down, your eyes clouding and you begin to crave the presence of jacaerys. Taking you silence as an opportunity to continue alicent begins to speak, “I care, not only about you, but about the future of your house which is why you should declare for aegon-” “you are asking me to declare for him? I knew you were crazy but this is just insanity.”

Though your face is covered in tears it does not hide the furious look you have on your face as you push her hand away from you and hug your knees to your chest. “It is the best path for you and your house my dear you must believe me i only wish the best for you. And should you do this you will be a lovely addition to our family. I am looking for a wife for my son daeron.” 

“I am already betrothed. You know this.” she shakes her head and stretches out further on the bed attempting to touch you once again, “you must understand-” “i would rather you kill me than marry your stupid hightower son and declare for that pig wearing a false crown on his head.” 

The room goes silent and she sighs and stands, fixing her dress before moving to leave the room. As she stands by the door she turns back to you, “I hope you will one day change your mind.” “I will not.” you quickly spit at her before she and criston leave the room leaving you trapped in there. All you can do is sit and cry in your bed, you miss jacaerys, you miss your father, you even miss dragonstone. You spend that whole day and night in your room praying that jacaerys was alright, you knew it is foolish to wish he could climb though the window to save you but the childish part of you dreamed he would come to your rescue. 

His foot taps on the floor in rapid succession. Jacaerys finds he can barely sit still these days. He cannot believe you were ripped from his hands so quickly. Though many expected him to lock himself in his room and cry for days mourning the loss of the love of his life and his younger brother he did not even shed a tear. Even at the funeral for the two of you the worst he got was glassy eyed as he clung onto his brother's robe and your necklace which he has begun wearing. It was as if he became a shell of himself, only speaking when spoken to and only truly wished to speak time planning out the moves of the war with daemon. Rhaenyra grew more and more concerned and distressed over her son as the days passed. Whenever she would go and try to talk to him she would only be greeted by his dead eyes and his emotionless words and she felt as though she lost two of her sons not just the one. 

Due to his erratic emotions, Jacaerys could not decipher how he felt. Grief? Anger? Sadness? Spite? All of the above? He had no clue. But in his mind he had no time to feel anything. He had a duty to make sure his mother won this war and he could deal with his feelings later. He tried to ignore that heart clenching feeling everytime he wrapped his hand around the dragon necklace. The selfish part of him believes you are still alive, in his defense there was no body, just a large pool of blood soaking the floor, the room had been bare and mostly untouched which led daemon to conclude it happened without and fight and quickly. If you were truly dead it gave him a bit of piece you had not been put through any sort of torture or torment as daemon seemingly had put halenas kid through when he sent out blood and cheese. 

He has many regrets and will hate himself for the rest of his life, he let his mother down, he was a bad brother and worst of all he failed to protect you, the one he had sworn to protect forever. He wont allow himself to mourn you, or mourn anyone for that matter. The only thing that mattered was the war and when daemon once again called him in the council room he soundlessly followed. He would at least avenge you in any way he would. He wanted them to feel the pain they had put him through, they put his mother through, he wanted to hurt them so badly he could barely contain himself but he must be rational despite how hard it is. Whenever he looked at the dragon on his neck he could only think of you and he grew angrier with himself. He had to avenge you. No matter what. 

The days in the keep are boring. For the first few days all you do is sit on your bed crying. Whenever a guard entered your room to bring you food you never ate any of it. The only time anything happened all you could hear was screams and cries but they were so distant you did not know what was happening. You only found out when aemond had come to integrate you about the incident. Asking if you had somehow let this ‘blood and cheese’ into the keep so they could kill one of halenas kids. You were mortified and said you had no clue. After a bit of pushing and reports from the guards who were stationed outside your room there was no way you could have done anything and they promptly left. The rest of your days continued the same with you not if so barely eating until it became too much and alicent showed up to your room. “You must eat.” you scoff, you had finally gained your strength back and were sitting at one of the tables in the room with a book in your hands. “I don't need to do anything.” She sighs and looks around the room. You take notice of the box she holds in her hands along with a bowl of what looks like fruits in it. “What is that?” 

She looks down at her hands and lets out an oh before looking back at you hopefully. “I.. was hoping you would play cyvasse with me..” she trails off and for a moment you notice how young she truly is. Much closer in age to not only yourself but her oldest son and all of her children forced into a role she is not fit for. A wave of sympathy falls upon you and she continues, “i have no one to play with, aemond is far too busy haelena cannot bring herself to get out bed and obviously aegon does not know how to play-” “ill play.”

She looks at you shocked as if she had been expecting you to turn her away and tell her no. “Though I should warn you that I have not lost a game in a very long time, I am a fierce competitor.” a smile graces her face and she nods quickly moving to sit down across from you and sets up the board. “I have not lost in forever either dear. I'm sure I will not lose to you.” you close your book and toss it towards the bed and shake your head at her. “I would like to see you try.” 

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you two begin to play. So lost in the game you occasionally pop a piece of fruit in your mouth. She was right, she is very tough competition but you can hold your own against her causing her to sit and think for long periods at a time. “It's a bit stuffy in here don't you think?” you lift your gaze from the board and up at her as you shrug, “if it is i do not notice it.” as you look back down at the board she hums and stands to open up one of the windows before moving to sit back down. “I hope you have thought about what I told you.” you sit still for a moment before moving on of your pieces and leaning back to look at her. “I have.” a hopeful look crosses her face, “and i will continue to tell you no.” she sighs and stares down at the board. Many more silent moments pass before the door slams open and the two of you look at it alarmed. 

“Ser Cole, what's wrong?” “You must come quickly with me, my queen, the prince has found something.” she stands alarmed and rushes towards him before looking back at you for a moment, “we will continue this later.” All you can do is nod at her and watch as the two of them rush out the room. You lean back on the chair and close your eyes and sigh. You wonder how long she planned to keep you here. You felt as though you made it rather obvious you never planned to submit to Aegon or marry her son but it seemed she still held on hope you would. In the midst of your thoughts a breeze brushes you and you jump out of your seat and look over to the window. It was still open. You walk over to the window and look out, this was your chance. You could escape, surely it could not be so hard to scale down the castle. You could die but so what? The longer you resist them the closer you get to one day just being executed and they put someone who would listen to their every whim in the high gardens. You look around the room and throw a spare cloak which had been in the room and look for anything valuable to sell before you say a small prayer to yourself before climbing out of the room and beginning to descend the castle. 

It is not easy, if anything you would think this is impossible by the way your hands, knees and feet begin to bleed the way you continue to scrape along the harsh walls of the castle. You don't dare look down out of fear someone will notice you or you’ll realize you've made no progress and get so frustrated you cry. After what felt like hours you stumble and fall to the ground and struggle to pick yourself up. Looking around you, noticing you are in an empty alley. You had really escaped. You stand frozen for a moment unsure of what to do. You had not thought this far. Maybe you could try to make it to high garden but they would surely notice your absence before then and high garden would be the first place they look for you. You decide you’ll sell the stuff you had managed to take first and figure out the rest later. When you had made it to one of the stands the seller was shocked to see all the real gold items you had with you and was more than eager to offer you a large chunk of change for it. Now that you had the money you had no clue what to do but as you were walking you hear a group of people discuss that they planned to travel out of the city and decide you could try and hitch a ride with them.

“And why would we let you ride with us little girl?” you show him the large amount of gold you can just acquired and his eyes widen as he looks at it. “How much?” “I would give you all of it,” he looks alarmed, “you desperate to get out of the city?” “more than you know.” later that same day you were sitting in the back of their large carriage. One of the girls in the group offered you a change of clothes and fixed up your wounds for you question free. You watch the city fade away from you and let out a breath of relief as you finally pull down your hood allowing the group to see your face. “Hey aren't you that hightower girl?” you look over to your right at the man from earlier and shrug, “maybe.” If he wants to ask more questions he does and goes back to fiddling with his blade and you begin to pray once more for jacaerys and that the gods will be kind enough to allow the two of you to reunite. 

You travel with them for a couple days. You find out they are actually a traveling circus who is struggling to make business right now due to the war. They are kind people who don't ask you unwanted questions and provide you with a ride and some food and that's all you can ask for. One day it's the middle of the night and you have all taken camp near a mountain. You grow more and more restless to get as close to dragonstone as possible to try and see jacaerys but you know these people are being more than kind to you so you must not push them. “I heard a rumor about this place,” jim, the guy you had talked to the first day he seemed to be the leader of this little group, says to jane, the woman who helped you fix your wounds takes a sip from her flasks and gives jim an unamused look. “Jim if this is one of your fairytales again,,,” “no no no seriously, apparently there's a dragon around these parts.'' This immediately catches your attention and you gaze at jim. “Seriously?” Jim nods confidently and Jane shakes her head tapping you on the shoulder, “don't believe him pumpkin he's always talking shit.” “i am being serious-”

A loud roar off in the distance causes the three of you and the rest of the camp to grow completely silent. Jim mouths a ‘told you’ in your direction and you watch as a dragon flies over your head and out to a field not too far away from where you all were camped. “We're gonna die.” you hear one of the other guys say and all you can do is admire the dragon. It's pure white with piercing blue eyes that seem to be looking directly at you. You feel completed to go towards it, its gaze luring you in as you stand at the alarm of Jane and Jim and begin to walk off. “Where the hell are you going?” you reach in your pocket and toss and large bag of coins you had at jim, “im going to claim a fucking dragon! Or die trying!” 

The morning came and the blacks had finally managed to put a pin on where one of the large green camps were and we're currently stationed to ambush them. Jacaerys sat wordlessly on his dragon as baela sat on her next to him and called his name causing him to look over at her. “I hope you know she would not resent you. When you were gone you were all she could talk about. She couldn't hate you, it is not possible.'' He just stares at her and opens his mouth as if he wished to speak but he couldn't and all he could do was turn away so as to not get choked up. He hoped she was right, that you could not hate him because he fears if you did it would kill him. He clutches the necklace once more before the call is made to charge and he flys up with his dragon to fight. Despite the fact it had been an ambush the greens seemed way more prepared to fight than they had been expecting and the situation grew more and more dire as the fight went on. 

As if it was a grace from the gods he heard a roar off in the distance and prayed it had not been aegon or aemond heading there way but when he turned his head and saw a white dragon? When close enough a wave of blue fire came out of its mouth to douse the greens. He could not see if the dragon had a rider due to its erratic movements but soon enough the dragon flew by him and he felt himself freeze. His betrothed. The one he feared he had lost. You. Y/n Tyrell. On a fucking dragon. Soon after your arrival the greens begin to retreat, unable to over power your dragon and its blue fire. Once the tides had settled and people began to cheer he quickly began to move towards where you were and you also rushed off your dragon and ran towards him, “jacaerys!” He grabs your face and kisses you with all his heart. He hopes you can feel the force of his love pouring into you with every move his lips make and with the grip he holds your face on, so gentle yet strong as if he knew he was holding the whole universe in his hands. It was not just any universe it was his universe and as you two pull away he can barely breathe. “You're alive?” you nod and peck him on the lips, “i will never leave you my love.” he finally feels all the emotions he's held back crash into him and he hugs you so tightly as if he fears you'll slip from his grasp should he let go. You feel him begin to cry and stroke his hair as you close your eyes and find yourself crying too. “I was so scared you had,,” “shh do not even speak it. I am here, I promise and I am not going anywhere.”

[comet-forgot-you]

needy vampire amber smut plsss 😣😣

happy halloween

smut. 18+ pls.

the two of you making a stupid challenge, you wanted to see how long it would take for amber to break. she was always so needy for you, her sex drive stupidly high, of course you wanted to see how long it would take her until she couldnt hold herself back anymore.

days later, the two of you are handing out candy on halloween, dressed as vampires after hours of battling with amber’s stubbornness. but now that amber sees the costume on you, she wonders why it took her so long to agree. it fits you so perfectly and amber cant stop picturing herself taking it off agonizingly slow. she had to make you break before she did.

she cant keep her eyes off of you, and when the door is closed, she cant keep her hands off of you. she gropes you over your clothes, feeling you up and turning you into a confused, needy mess. she always pulls away from you seconds before someone knocks on the door.

it doesnt take long before amber’s pulling you into her, your back pressed against her front. she tilts your head to the side, scraping her fangs along the side of your neck, letting them poke you just enough to draw a few drops of blood, before lapping it up and pressing a gentle kiss to the area.

“you look so fucking good, cant wait to take all this off baby. god, you’re getting me all worked up, fuck.” she whispers hotly against your ear. “cant you see what you do to me?” she grinds herself against your ass slightly before pulling away, a smirk painting her lips. you dont have time to collect yourself before theres a knock at your door.

15 minutes later, your cheeks are flushed and the ache between your thighs is unbearable. you’re sure your underwear is soaked and your are pupils blown, and you know exactly why. amber’s unending teasing had you so worked up, and the little pokes of her fangs injected aphrodisiac into you.

you try to stay strong, try to keep yourself together, amber was the one who was so needy for you, she’d have to break first. amber’s hands are on your hips, lips pressed against your ear. “you know you wanna break, you know how bad you need me,” she whispers.

“you know you want to break,” you whisper back, turning to face her in hold. “you know you just want to fuck me, you know you need to see me all fucked out for you,” your hands run up and down her body, fingers grazing her neck before you lean forward, pressing a kids to her cold skin just below her ear. “you know you want me.”

its you who pulls away first, turning off your light and locking the door. amber watches your every move, she watches as you make your way to your shared room. she stays still for a moment, but when you look back at her from the entrance of your room, shes next to you in the blink of an eye. the door barely shuts behind you before amber’s pushing you against it, her strong, cold hands gripping your hips so tight, you know there’ll be a bruise there.

her lips are on yours, fingers tugging at your clothes. she’s too desperate, too worked up to even bother taking them off properly. they’re ripped in seconds, cold fingers meeting your nipples, pinching and rolling them between her fingers. “fuck,” you whine out. amber slots her thigh between your own and youre quick to grind against it, desperate to relieve the built up pressure in your core.

in an instant, the hard, wooden door you’re pressed against is replaced with your soft mattress. amber’s hands wander all over you, the coldness leaving goosebumps along your skin. “fuck, baby. i needed you so bad,” amber mumbles against your skin, pulling your underwear off of you. her fingers slide through your folds, “ive been going insane, you just look so good its hard not to take you all the time,” she whispers, trailing kisses down your body.

her fingers prod at your entrance before moving up to circle your clit. “go on then,” you mumble back, your breath catching in your throat as amber’s fingers tease your cunt. “take me.”

and suddenly, she cant take it anymore. her fingers sink into you and your warmth around her has her groaning into your skin. “fuck,” she nearly whines. all she can think about is how stupid she was for accepting your stupid challenge. “god, you feel so good,” she whispers, lips pressing against your neck.

she can feel your heartbeat under her lips, its quick, and it draws her in even more, her own arousal clouding her mind. she cant help but want to sink her teeth into your skin, and she does. she bites into your shoulder, its painful at first, a pained moan falling from your lips. and then the arousal hits, the sharp stab of her fangs has you squeezing her fingers tightly.

“amber,” you moan out, grinding yourself against her palm.

she hums against your skin, your blood filling her mouth. you taste so good, ambers far too addicted to you than she’d like to admit. she unlatches from your shoulder, lapping up the excess blood. “come on, baby,” she mumbles. “be good for me, make a mess all over my fingers, i know you want to. i know you feel good, come one baby.” her words have you clenching around her fingers, and when her palm grinds against your clit with every buck of your hips, its all you need to come undone.

“fuck, amber!” desperate moans fall from your lips as you reach your orgasm. amber’s movements working you through it.

“yeah baby, just like that. you did so good for me. i think you can go again, yeah?”

[subjectnr8]

Vander's nightmare 🐺

Silco's infected eye does not have eyelids. It constantly stares into the darkness, angry and burning into anyone's soul. A humans eyes roll back when they sleep, so I can only imagine Silco's damaged eye does the same.

And now paint the picture with me!

Tw: Violence?

The river was colder than Vander remembered. Cold water wrapped around his legs and wrists, soaking his clothes. It rained. Thunder crashed over the darkness of the sky above their heads. A scenery painted by nothing more than sheer hatred and the blood on his knife.

The warmth of blood was lost between the greenish toxins of the river and yet Vander felt this fire underneath his skin. Underneath his palms, in his veins. Icy tendrils wrapped around his arms as he plunged Silco’s head beneath the water, silencing his screams and pleas.

But Silco didn’t stop fighting, not even as Vander pushed a knife into his eyeball. It was hard to see through the rain and even harder to spot what was going on in the wavy, dirty water below him. But Vander could watch the green sluggish river slowly turn red as he scooped against the bone of Silco’s cheek.

“Vander!” The scream was chilling and yet quickly drowned by waves. Silco fought like a wild animal, reaching the surface just in time only to be pushed back down again. Vander’s grip only grew tighter the longer this went on.

The smaller man scratched his arms, tried to lunge at him and get away. But all of it in vain. Silco tossed and turned and inhaled a lung full of water, screaming and yelling drowned out slowly. Bones break beneath Vander’s fingers. Theres a sick motion of Silco’s Adams apple being squeezed and pushed aside, a horrified teal eye glanced up from the waves as the waves grew still and crimson.

His one good eye was wide, wild with fury and betrayal, while the other— Vander shook his head, refusing to look. He pressed harder, his hands trembling. The water stayed unmoving. Minutes pass with no movement, no cry for mercy and no failing attempt to lunge at Vander’s head. Silence, and rain.

When Vander finally looked down, Silco’s face stared back at him, pale and lifeless. His left eye now an artwork of bleeding flesh and white bone. Cut veins and peeling skin floated out of the dark socket that was washed out by poisonous water.

“Vander.” His name wasn’t a scream this time. It was a whisper. “Blisters and Bedrock.”

Vander woke with a start, his breath coming in sharp, panicked gasps. He shot up in bed with a violent twitch, sweat dripping down his forehead as his lung stung with pain at his deep panic breaths. He escaped from the nightmare’s claws.

The room was quiet, quiet as a grave, and only a lantern from outside the window cast some light into the darkness of the bedroom. Vander rose a shaking hand to brush the beads of sweat from his brow. “This damn nightmare.” He cussed, looking beside him at Silco, craving comfort. But what he saw froze the very blood in his veins. Again.

Silco slept beside him, his sleeping mask had slipped off his face as it revealed the angry black eye staring right at Vander. The iris was completely infected with black toxins and an accusing shade of orange nearly rolled back into Silco’s skull. Silco’s skin, pale even in the best of times, seemed ashen in the dim light. For a horrifying moment, Vander thought he was looking at a corpse.

“Silco!” he choked out, grabbing his partner’s shoulder and shaking him roughly. Silco groaned, his face twisting in annoyance and semi shock. “What… in the hells are you doing?” His voice was hoarse with sleep, and he cracked his good eye open just enough to glare at Vander. Silco pushed the sleeping mask off his face, now both eyes glared angrily at Vander.

But all Vander could do was to sag with relief, his hands dropping from Silco's shoulders. “You weren't moving” Vander croaked and inched away from his sleepy partner.

Silco blinked slowly and rubbed his healthy eye, trying to get over the shock of being ripped out of a good night’s sleep. "Well, that usually happens when people want to sleep." he muttered and let himself relay back on an elbow. "And I'd like to continue, if you don't mind.

“I dreamed- ... you looked dead,” Vander muttered. His expression panicked with eyes wide open in panic and nightmares haunting his nights.

Silco sighed and dragged a hand down across his face. This wasn't the first time he was woken up by Vander's nightmares. "That's what happens when you sleep with no eyelids. You really should get used to that; you made me look like this after all."

The words hit harder than Silco likely intended but Vander's guilt latched onto them like a parasite hungry for sustenance. "I didn't mean to-" Vander swallowed thickly as he drew his hands back into his lap, trying to stop the trembling. After all, he had meant it all those years ago. He had been out for blood, to drown the revolutionary spirit with blood and water.

"Vander." The sharpness of Silco's tone managed to snap him right out of his self-loathing thoughts and back into their dark bedroom. "I'm here", Silco simply said, nudging their foreheads together as they usually did. "I'm not leaving again."

Vander let out a shaky breath and reached up to gently caress the damage his angry past self had left on this precious man before him. Silco would never truly forgive him for what he had done, Vander knew it, but for now this was enough.

The god damn Silco Discord Server traumatised me in the best way possible. He doesn't know it but Ian inspired the drowning shit out of this so heyyyy

[mewintheflesh-2]

Without You

Rating: Teen and Up audiences

Archive warnings: None

Characters: Francis Mosses, Original Characters

Tags: Unrequited Love, heartbreak, Song: Without You (Strawberry Guy), Crushes, Unrequited Crushes, Francis Mosses has sensory issues (briefly mentioned), minor blood and injury, Francis deals with the qualms of being a retail worker (kinda), men crying, emotional hurt, hurt/no comfort, not beta read, Reader is gender neutral.

Word count: 1,800 (rounded down)

Summary: Francis wasnt having a good time.

And you're not about to make it any better

Also posted on Ao3

Francis sighed solomly as he gripped the now empty milk carrier. Hard enough to leave imprints on his hand and whiten his knuckles.

His black leather shoes clicked and clacked against the cold, concrete sidewalk. The sunset painting everything around him in a golden light. It'd be nighttime soon.

He lifted his free hand to his head and clutched his sweaty hair from underneath his hat. He was so tired. He just wanted to get home and sleep.

But he mostly just wanted to talk to you.

Even if you only really talked through that thick, protective window, youd been making more and more conversation with eachother each time you spoke, getting to know eachother more and more each day.

It wasnt long before Francis' lovesick brain fell head over heels.

It was everything about you. The way you looked, with a smile rivaling the warmth of the sun, and just as dangerous to his heart and mind. You always seemed to know exactly what to say to him to pull at his heart like a puppet on a string.

If he didnt know any better, hed say you were doing it on purpose.

He wouldnt mind either way.

Francis slugged up to the reception window, a weight lifted off of him at the sight of you at your desk.

He pushed his ID and Entry Request inside the letterbox for you to receive, planting his hands on the metal shelf jutting out of the wall just below the window; watching you expectantly with a simultaneous aching and soothing feeling in his heart.

After a minute of shuffling papers and opening folders, you look up at him.

"Hello, Francie." You smiled warmly at him.

There it was.

That nickname.

God how it made his heart swell. 

'Francie.'

Such a cute nickname

and it was just for him, gifted from you.

"How's your day been?" You tilted your head slightly at him, setting down and organizing his identification and sliding his profile back into the appropriate folder.

Francis looked at you for a second before frowning. "Not great." He sighed as he shook his head softly, looking down at his shoes.

Your eyebrows knit together in concern, a frown adorning your lips.

"I'm sorry, Francie. What happened, if you dont mind me asking?" Your voice was so warm and soft as you leaned in closer to the window.

It made Francis' heart flutter for a second before he had to think back to all that had happened earlier.

"It's just a lot of little things building up. I'm probably more upset about it than I should be." Francis looked down at his hands, and then up to you.

The expression on his face was just killing your heart. 

"Im all ears." You speak softly as you push your chair in closer to your desk, and by extension, the window.

"If theres anything you need to say, then say it. Its always nice to get things off your chest, dont you think?" You smile softly at him, pushing your chair closer to your desk, and closer to the window by extension.

"Are you sure?" Francis looked around, almost worried. Surely he'd be taking up your time on your job if he did that, right?

"I have all the time in the world-- and I'd rather be talking to you than anything else right now." You assured, that deadly warm smile on your lips again.

The words made Francis feel warm and soft.

A small smile appeared on his face for a brief, fleeting moment. 

 Francis stared at you for a moment, as if asking for approval to speak.

You nod.

He sighed, looking down at the metal shelf infront of him as his ungloves hands tapped at it, wondering where to begin.

"Its just- work has been just awful today.  Someone had left their dog outside, as soon as it saw me it wouldn't stop chasing me, i tried to run away, but it eventually caught up to me and bit my leg.

It wouldnt let go until I had to pry it off of me. And even then it didn't leave me alone for awhile. Not until it's owners came back to take it off of me." 

You frowned, trying to open your mouth to speak, but Francis kept talking.

"And because of that dog, i dropped and broke multiple milk bottles on the sidewalk. So after the dog got taken off of me, i tried picking up the glass since I didn't want anybody accidentally stepping on it because of me, but the shards cut me. Badly. Even through my gloves."

He held his hand up to the window for you to see. There were bloodied bandages wrapped around his hand, and several smaller cuts on his bare fingers. 

You cringe at the sight.

"I had to take them off to clean the wounds, and everything has just been sensory hell ever since." Francis' face draws to a grimace.

"And to make things worse, I had to deal with people yelling at me for being incompetent for losing their deliveries."

He clenched his jaw, his expression doesn't look anything but sad.

"Even though it wasn't even my fault. I'm not the one who left their dog outside. And just to top it off, I've had a horrible migrane all day, and It's just-" He inhales and groans,  collapsing onto the metal shelf infront of him.

"I just want to take a break. I just want to rest."

He mumbles as he tucks his face into his folded arms.

Silence, for a moment.

"Francie........... That's awful-- I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?" You frown sympathetically as you push you chair forward even more, squishing yourself against your desk and placing a hand on the window infront of you.

Francis lifted his head to look up at your hand, and then at you.

"I think talking to you and going to sleep is  enough for me to feel better." Francis smiled briefly before registering what he'd said, casting his gaze anywhere but you after he realized what he'd spoken.

You laugh softly. "If you say so."

Silence for a bit, as Francis regains his composure.

He lifts himself up, slowly propping himself on his elbows on the shelf, leaning his head on his knuckles, huffing out a breath of air.

"...How was your day?" He asks after a beat, head tilted curiously.

You smile, retracting your hand from the window. "My days been pretty slow, but im meeting someone later, so im pretty excited for that."

Meeting someone?

...

Francis blinked for a second. His expression faltering to a look of sadness for just a moment.

No. Surely you didnt mean it like that.

"Meeting someone...?" He echoed.

"Mhm." You smiled softly at the thought. "We met just a few days ago. He seems pretty nice, I'm excited to get to know him more." You lean your head on your hand, mirroring the man behind the glass.

"A-ah.......... Congratulations." Francis did his best to refrain from letting any indication of his emotions fall upon his face as he straightened himself out; but he couldn't help but frown. 

"Francie? Are you alright?" You tilted your head the slightest bit, voice a catalyst of concern for the man standing on the other side of the thick, protective glass. 

"Mhm. I just remembered something. Apologies." He held the brim of his cap between his pointer and thumb, pulling it down over his eyes the slightest bit to avoid looking at you. But he really couldn't help himself.

"Oh, alright. Is there, uh, anything I can help you with?" Your voice was calm and careful in a way that just broke poor Francies heart even more. "About what you remembered- I mean." 

"No, no. It's fine. Thanks for the offer." He shook his head softly, forcing a small smile as he looked down at the shelf infront of him.

"Of course, Francie." Your eyebrows knit together in concern. "Just let me know if there's anything I can do for you. You can tell me anything." 

"Mhm. Thank you." Francis took a quick glance at the door, before looking back in your direction-- though nowhere near directly at you. You put together he was probably signaling to you that he wanted to leave now.

"I'll see you tommorow?" Your voice was soft, sweet, a delicacy and a curse to Francis' ears.

There was a light buzzing noise as you pressed the button to unlock the main entrance. 

"Mhm. Goodbye." He waved at you softly, only actually looking into your eyes for a brief, fleeting moment before walking away. 

"Goodbye........." You spoke quietly, a soft pit in your stomach as you watched Francis dissappear through the doors.

You were so caught off guard by his sudden change in behavior you nearly forgot to lock the door again.

He usually liked to stay for as long as he could.

Was it something you said?

You frowned, leaning back in your chair and fidgeting with some papers.

You'd have to ask him about it tomorrow.

Again began the waiting for your neighbors to return to their apartments.

Francis opened his apartment door with shaking hands, keys jingling as they were set on his kitchen counter.

With a heavy sigh, he flicked on his lamp, enveloping the room in a warm yellow glow, trying to keep his composure.

Slowly but surely he kicked off his shoes, grabbing and throwing his hat onto his dresser.

Just as he was about to unbutton his uniform he was hit with a sudden disgusting, sickening feeling in his chest as tears welled up in his eyes.

He shook his head, eyes squinting involuntary as he let himself fall onto his bed.

He lied there, staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore anything he was feeling.

But no matter how many times he tried, something still peeked through.

He inhaled sharply through his nose as he flipped himself over onto his stomach, nestling his face into his soft pillows.

The feeling in his chest was too intense to bear, he could feel his breath become sporadic, unsure if it was because his face was buried in his pillows or otherwise.

He inhaled sharply once more, this time followed followed by a small Hic as his throat began to close up.

No, no, he wasn't going to cry. It's not that big of a deal. He's fine. He should be happy for you if anything.

But. With everything that happened up until that point. He really couldn't help himself from letting his emotions get the best of him.

Hot tears soaked into his pillow as his hands clutched at his hair violently, hissing in pain as his wounds flexed open.

He grits his teeth, another hic escaping his lips as he opened his eyes into the pillow.

Nothing but a warm, yellowish void.

 He pushed himself up and flipped onto his side, curling into himself, yanking a blanket over his shoulders before clutching his head, throbbing in a burning pain once again as he cried quietly.

He didn't even turn off the lamp before he'd passed out.

Silent, steady breathing, wet cheeks illuminated by the soft yellow light of his lamp. 

Tired eyes, finally getting their well deserved rest. 

An aching heart, beating slowly, deep inside his chest.

[waffles-art-writing]

JOKER - Task Force 141 x Reader

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First post - please ignore any mistakes as I write this on my phone at like midnight most of the time haha. Be Nice :’). Anyway, enjoy! Sorry if any of the slang or anything like that is wrong. I’ve never lived there (I’m in Australia)

GIF: thewriterg

Proofread: Half-assed proof-read sorry.

I got inspo for this from the song “Joker -Rory Webley”.

Summary: Joker (you) gets captured on a mission. Ghost and Soap search high and low for you as Gaz and Price gain as much information as they can about the man they suspect has taken you. Will you make it out and get back to your team?

Pairing: Task Force 141!Platonic x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.4K Roughly - kinda long sorry

Age Rating: 16+ Preferably, unless you can handle goreish stuff- otherwise anyone can read it

Codename: JOKER

Key: Y/N - Your Name, Y/N/N - Nickname. L/N - Last Name

Warning/Info: third person??, descriptions of injury, blood, weapons, normal COD stuff, mentions of Torture, Kidnapping, Childhood trauma, angst?? I think… FLUFF, Soft!Ghost. If theres anything I need to add please say so :)

EDIT: If this gets enough traction or if you guys want! I am more than happy to make a part two or turn it into a whole mini series :) Thanks for all the likes and reblogs <3 (Here’s the part Two)

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The rolling thunder in the distance rumbles, you can feel it through the ground. The air is thick with the feeling of rain, but not a single drop has touched the dry and dusty earth you are currently laying on. You’re watching the rest of the team work their way through the small village, your thermal scope making them glow like glow sticks at a rave. “Joker, how copy?” Price’s voice crackles to life in your ear, you press the button on the comms to reply. “Hear you loud an’ clear Cap” you reply, clicking the button to the pressed position to keep the comms open, you’re watching Ghost and Soap clean house in one of the larger ruins of a house.

“Do you ‘ave eyes on the target yet?” Price’s stern voice rumbles in your ear again. You adjust the scope to get a larger field of view, scanning all the windows in the dilapidated village. Your eyes narrow as you watch a figure poke their head around a wall not far from Ghost and Soap’s position. “Not yet Sir, but there's a shifty guy looking for Ghost and Soap” you comment “Ghost do a one eighty… some guy is looking for you from the building with a red door.” You pick up a low grunt in response from Ghost as Price acknowledges what you’ve said. You’re zoned in on watching any and all movement not yet spotting who you are looking for.

Sweat forms on your brow as you continue watching for any shifty people, the balaclava you wear has red paint smeared on it like a smile like the joker from Batman, the fabric is not helping with the heat. The faint sound of dirt shifting draws your attention from the scope, you push yourself to your knees while spinning around to face the source of the sound. Your glock raises steadily as you lift your arms in front of yourself, the pounding of your heart is deafening, blood pumping quickly, breathing quickens. You scan your surroundings, you’ve perched yourself just in front of a moderately sized group of boulders, shrouded in twiggy bushes.

The little amount of sun casts harsh shadows on the ground as you rock yourself up into a crouched position, your feet light on the ground as you stay close to the boulders. Your breathing falters as you see a shadow not matching up to a group of bushes and rocks in front of you. You whip around to the sound of more footsteps, your vision blurs, you feel your body go numb, black spots decorating your vision like snowfall. The faint sound of Ghost’s stern voice and Soap’s concern calls can be heard as your vision fades to nothing.

“Joker, do you have a visual?” Ghost asks as he looks over the wall he’s crouched behind, Soap just a few feet away. “Joker? Lass, can you hear us?” Soap barks out as he looks over his shoulder towards Ghost, his brows knitted together as he watches Ghost try reaching you again. “Price! Can you reach Joker?” Soap quickly questions through the comms, his mind running a thousand miles a minute as he tries to figure out what happened to you. “You two need to get the fuck out of there now, Joker’s been compromised.” Price barks through the radio, his voice commanding as ever as he himself looks over to Gaz who is desperately trying to figure out why you're not responding. “What?” Soap breathes out as he looks up towards the hill you were perched on, trying to see if you’re still there but to no avail. Ghost is quick as he spits out commands to Soap to follow him to the rendezvous spot you all agreed on if something went south.

“Sir, the locator she has is saying she’s still where she was before the comms went dark.” Gaz states as he types furiously across the keyboard, his eyes flicking between maps and coordinates. “The fuck is going on Gaz?” Price asks as he looks over the younger man’s shoulder. Price runs a hand down his face as he watches the white dot on the map blink, his heart skips a beat when he watches the light go out completely. “Fuck! No, no, no. Come on” Gaze mumbles as he tries to get the locator back online, his attempts falling short of the goal he wishes he reached. “Ghost, Soap, can you see Joker anywhere at all?” Price curses under his breath as he watches Ghost and Soap’s lights nearing the rendezvous spot. “Nothing… What the fuck is going on Gaz?!” Soap sneers down the line, Ghost staying quiet as he looks around, looking where you would’ve been coming from up on the ridge line.

“I don’t know, her locator is offline.”

“I thought you couldn’t turn ‘em off without smashin’ ‘em or disconnectin’ from our comms?” Soap growls out.

“You can turn them off if you know the correct button order but they are hard to get to without the proper tools”

“What do ya mean Gaz?” Ghost questions.

Gaz rubs his brow as he looks at the map again. “She either had to have the patience to disconnect it without breaking it, or someone broke it…” his words hang heavy over everyone’s head, everyone knows you’re not the patient kind, nor are you one to smash her own locator without telling them beforehand or without good reason.

“She’s been taken…” Soap’s voice cuts through the silence, everyone knows deep down that's what has happened yet they don’t want to believe it. “You two go search where she was, try to find anything you can on what happened to her. We need to get her back.” Price growls out, he marches out of the room where he was with Gaz, his footsteps echoing around the building.

Your heart is thumping, body aching, throat dry as the Sahara Desert. Your eyes hurt like they have been stabbed with nails. A small groan escapes you as you attempt to move, nothing happens. Your vision is blurry as you look down at yourself, noticing the rope around your wrists and ankles, securely tied to the chair you have the opportunity to sit in. “Wha- What the hell…” your voice is scratchy, hoarse, but clear. Your head snaps up, your eyes widening as you notice the balaclava you hardly ever took off is now missing, it's gone, your face on full display. “Welcome to the waking world Joker… or should we call you Y/N?” Your breath hitches as the voice sounds out from behind you.

You attempt to look at the man who spoke, your attempt failing as a hand comes to grip your hair holding your head forward. “Get your hands off me!” You scream, attempting to loosen yourself from the binds and get away from the bastard that's behind you. “Oh don’t be so harsh now” “Get your fuckin’ hands off of me you bastard!” “Now, now Y/N don’t be so… callous” his voice drips with a sickly sweet tone, your skin crawling as you watch him walk around to the front of you. You stare at him, brows furrowed, jaw clenched as you see it is the same man you were tasked with finding and killing.

“Cat got your tongue?” His eyes roam your body, the shirt you are wearing now sticking to you from sweat, your combat pants covered in dirt just like your shirt. Boots gone. “My eyes are up here you arsehole” you sneer as you watch his eyes trail back up to yours. They are dark, not dark like Ghost’s cold and calculating stare. They are dark like a man with sinister intentions, a predator who’s on the verge of snapping and turning into a hellbent rabid dog.

“Why are ya doing this? If you want information ye ain’t getting it outta me you sick bastard. You’re just a coward hiding behind a name.” Your voice darkens as you stare him down “You won’t even survive five seconds out there if it weren’t for yer’ guards or yer’ stupid little posse that kisses the earth ya walk on!” The man stares at you, his movements blur in the low light of the dark room. The cold blade of a knife traces along your cheek. “I wonder how you got these scars…” his voice trails off as he follows the pale scar that runs along the apple of your left cheek going towards your nose. The scar is from your early years in the armed forces, you were sparring with a fellow comrade which ended up with you face in the dirt and cutting your cheek on the end of the rough mat you were on.

“How about this one?” The tip of the knife pushes against the corner of your mouth, a small scar going to the side, almost like it’s extending your smile by a fraction. You’ve had it since you were young, you were using a stake knife, you were playing around with the knife and using it like a fork. Your parents were out and they left a steak for the babysitter to cook, yet the sitter was distracted by her phone. You accidentally moved the knife slicing the corner of your mouth open. Your parents ended up scolding you while you sat on a bed in the overnight section of the local doctors surgery.

“That’s none of ya fucking business” you sneer as you lean away from the blade. “Well I’ll now know where this one will come from, hold still… let’s match the joker smile that’s on your mask to your pretty little face shall we?” “No, no no no no no no!”

Boots splash in the puddles of mud, rain falling heavily from the clouds overhead, grumbles of curses can be heard throughout the group as they march through the drenched ground. Soap is quick to push the door to the safe house open, Gaz not far behind, followed by Price, Ghost a few strides out. Price immediately heads to the wall decorated in maps and sheets of information, Gaz opening the laptop on the closest surface. Soap looks over to Ghost. His shoulders rigid, eyes set in a hard stare, hand in tight hold around the strap of the rifle case you decorated with patches from all the places you’ve been.

The gun was gone, you were gone, but the case was still there sitting in the dirt.

Soap and Ghost looked around the area you were in, just as they were getting close, the clouds opened up the heavy rain fell, it drenched the earth quickly like a burst fire hydrant. Ghost was the one to spot the case hap-hazardly thrown into the bushes off to the side. Ghost knew you adored making at least something personalised, make it seem less… daunting…

Ghost places the case on the table, keeping a hand on it as Soap steps up next him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “The lass is probably already on her way back to us L.T…” Soap quietly states, his voice low. “She’s strong… she’ll be back with us in no time”. Ghost looks to Soap out the corner of his eye, watching the Scotsman walk off towards Price. “She better…” His voice is low, a small hint of worry dancing in his tone as he runs a gloved hand over the patches on the case.

The taste of iron rests on your tongue. Blood.

Throbbing, stinging pain burns across your face. Pain.

The burning feeling of aching muscles flows through your legs, arms, back… Just everywhere.

All you see is red, the colour of blood, the smell of death. The corpses of men littler the corridor you stand in, the men that once beat you to a bloody pulp, talked down upon you like you’re some barnyard rat.

Sound of blood rushing fills your head. Your feet drag across the ground as you limp over the dead men towards the door, the door that leads to the outside world, to your escape, to your freedom… to your team.

Rain, water, cool air, wet ground. You let the rain run down your face, your hair a tousled mess as it clings to your forehead. From sweat? From rain or from blood? You don’t know and you don’t care as you stumble through the slippery mud. Your mind is flooded with the desire to get somewhere warm and dry, to be surrounded by your team, your friends, your found family.

The dark silhouette of the safe house can be seen amongst the other small village buildings, the safe house isn’t far from where the mission was taking place, it was for convenience. It was just over half an hour by car, but by foot it was just over seven hours of nonstop walking. Your feet are red with blisters from walking across the earth. You were lucky enough to find a quad bike off to the side of the run down building you were held in, but it quickly ran out of gas within the first 10 minutes of riding it. You were close to giving up right there and then, you were barely able to stay upright, your grip on the handlebars was almost non-existent. You dumped the dead bike in a ditch, not giving a shit about how out of place it looked.

Four hours of nonstop walking, rain, mud, wind and the occasional moments of running to avoid being spotted by someone driving past.

Tears rim your eyes as you approach the front door of the safe house, inputting the code in the keypad, your breathing ragged as you nudge the door, the creaking of hinges sounding out, muttering can be heard from behind the door leading into the main common room. Using your good shoulder, the doors open quickly and the voices go silent as they turn to the sound of the doors opening. Your eyes are half lidded, your right hand clutching your left bicep. “I-.. I’m sorry…” your voice comes out mumbled, your legs quiver as you feel yourself tipping forwards.

Ghost turns to the doors, his back once to them, his eyes widened as he sees your tired, bloodied and dirty face. “I-.. I’m sorry…” his feet moving before he even realises he’s moving, Soap right behind him. “I’ve got you kid, I’ve got you…” he mumbles as his arms wrap around your waist, his grip firm but careful to not hurt you any further. “Lass…” Soap’s voice is soft as he approaches you and Ghost. Your face is pushed up against Ghost’s chest, blood still dripping down your face. Your hands clutch to Ghost’s tactical vest, the rough surface rubbing against the deep gashes that drag heavily across your cheeks. “J-Johnny…” you whimper out as your hazy eyes focus on the blue eyed Scotsman next to you. “I’m here Lass, don’t worry.”

Only you and Ghost have the pleasure of calling the ruthless Sergeant Soap MacTavish ‘Johnny’.

Everything around you is muffled, nothing is coherent enough for your fizzled mind to make out. You feel your body get scooped out from under you, your head leans into the junction of Ghost’s neck and shoulder. His broad frame keeps you stable and warm, Soap is rushing ahead to the kitchen moving everything out of the way on the small island bench. “Shit, kid, what did they do to you…” Price curses, his question comes out more like a statement. “I… I didn’t tell... I didn’t s-say… anything” your mumbled words slur as you lean into Ghost more. “Don’t close your eyes L/N. Keep those pretty eyes open.”

‘Did he call my eyes pretty?’

You whimper when Ghost places you on the kitchen island, grabbing the med kit from Gaz who was running in from getting it from the bathroom. Price is standing to your right, Gaz next to him. Ghost to your left, while Soap wraps a tourniquet around your left thigh.

“We gotta cut your pants lass, I know you like these ones” Soap chuckles lightly as opens the pant leg up to your thigh. He’s quick to clean the bullet wound that marks your flesh. Ghost has gone quiet, his whole body rigid from head to toe, his hands working quickly to rip open your shirt, not hesitating to run his hands gently down your ribs. “Gaz, get a bowl of warm water” Soap barks out as he realises what state your feet are in, his touch is firm but careful.

Your body feels numb, the men around you are fuzzy, your eyes roam Price’s face as he holds your shoulders down when Soap says he’s gonna have to dig the bullet out. You don’t move, other than a pained and strained cry leaves you as you feel Soap pulling the bullet out. It wasn’t too deep. Thank god.

“Joker, look at me girl. Keep your eyes on me, that's it sweetheart.” Price’s voice is stern, commanding, as he desperately tries to keep you awake. “I’m sorry C- Cap…” Price shakes with his head lightly, a small smirk playing on his lips. “I know, kid, I know. You just need to keep talking, okay? Can you do that?” You nod your head slightly, cringing when Ghost touches a bruised rib while applying anti-inflammatory cream to it, hoping to ease the pain. “Ow- you arse…” you mumble as you glance at Ghost, who’s eyes squint slightly like he’s smirking. “M’sorry, keep your eyes on Price for me.” He says gently as he takes a damp cloth to your cheek. You flinch away harshly, tears falling down your face even quicker now. The adrenaline is wearing off quickly, the pain from everything is bubbling to the surface.

“No. No no no” you whimper out as you try to hide your face away from Ghost’s touch. Price and Ghost swap positions naturally. You glance up at Ghost whose face is now upside down when he looks at you, your eyes blurry with tears. “Kid… Love, you gotta look at me. I need to clean your face to see where you’re bleeding from.” His voice is muffled by the Balaclava, and hard skull mask adorning the dark fabric.

“He- He said let’s m-match the mask… make my f-face match my mask… he-” your pained voice states, tears streaming down your face, Price’s grip on your hand and shoulder tightens. Gaz’s hand’s still from cleaning the cuts and scrapes around your ankles and feet. Soap halts his bandaging of your thigh, they all stare at you with stormy eyes, filled with rage. Ghost’s hands cup your jaw gently, his fingers twitching with adrenaline from the rage, his eyes darken as he stares into your teary and puffy eyes. “I’m gonna fucking kill him…” he sneers lowly, your voice sounds like a small kitten when you speak.

“You can’t….” “Why can’t he kill ‘em Lass?” Soap questions as he secures the bandage around your thigh. “He’s… he’s already dead… I killed him.” Your voice breaks when a sob racks through your body. “He’s dead, in a puddle of his own blood… I killed him…” you repeat, “… he’s unrecognisable now…” you lift your hand to place it on Ghost’s forearm. Your hands shake as you do so, Ghost snaps out of whatever trance of rage and concern he was in. He nods his head, Price has gone to call for a medic evac, Gaz and Soap continue cleaning any other wounds you have.

You lean into Ghost’s touch, allowing him to clean one side of your face at a time. The gashes are reasonably deep, not deep enough feel from the inside of your cheeks thankfully. “I can’t stitch these L/N… the doctor will have to do that. All I can do is cover them with gauze and tape…” he sounds sorry, only slightly, his eyes still burning with anger but there is some softness of concern in them. “Just… just do what you can Ghost…” the man nods as he gently sits you up, allowing him to see if the wounds will bleed when you are up right.

You sit there, eyes heavy and dull. The dried tear stains are still on your cheeks as Ghost gently applies antiseptic cream and gauze, followed by medical tape. You wince at his touch. You feel like you just got your wisdom teeth removed, your head cloudy, your face aching, eyes sore.

“Ghost the heli will be here in five minutes, is she ready to move?” Price barks out as he walks over. Gaz and Soap throwing anything dirty and used away in the trash. Ghost looks from Price to you, his eyes scanning your body from head to toe. Noticing the skin around your ribs already turning a dark blue and purple. That’s gonna hurt. Your hands shake as you push yourself to stand on the ground, as soon as your feet touch the ground your knees give way.

Ghost is clutching you to his chest, you whimper as you clutch to him like your life depends on it. “Doesn’t look like it, Sir.” Ghost states as he keeps his arms under your arms, to keep you upright. “Well, gotta carry her then.” Ghost just nods as he leans back, making you look up at him. “Johnny’s gonna carry you okay?” Ghost states as he sees Soap approach you two, one of his shirts in hand and a blanket. “… O-... Okay…” You look over at Soap and let one of your hands reach out to him, doing a grabby-hand motion.

The Scotsman chuckles as he moves over, slipping the spare shirt around your head, slipping your arms through it gently. Ghost wraps the blanket around your shoulders, making sure you’re snug once you’re in Soap’s arms. “Comfy there Lass?” His low chuckle makes you smile as you lean into him more, letting your eyes close. “Yeah… just tired…” you mumble as you nuzzle into his neck, his cologne comforting you in a way. “Don’t sleep just yet, we gotta get you outta here.” He states as he walks to the door, following Gaz and Price. Ghost behind you with your belongings and Soaps rifle and his own. “Keep talkin’ to us, love.” Ghost states as he makes eye contact with you, you nod your head gently. The sound of the chopper overhead is loud, the wind from the blades and the rain makes you bring the blanket up more, making you curl in on yourself.

“Can they go any fuckin’ slower?” Soap laughs at your complaint about waiting for the chopper to land. “I don’t think so or they would stall Lass.” You chuckle with Soap as he tightens his grip on you as you approach the chopper, a medic is there waiting, you groan as you realise that Soap has to put you down. You wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly to show you don't want to be out down. “No.” The medic looked at you confused, she was ready to help you with your injuries. “Lass we gotta put-” “No. No. No.” You cower further into Soap’s chest as you see the medic reach for you. “Fuck off!” You growl, Soap’s arms wrap around you further as he gets comfortable in the chopper. Ghost sits next to him, Price is up by the pilot, Gaz on the other side of Soap.

The ride back to the main base of operations is quick, there's mostly silence amongst everyone, other than the medic who keeps asking questions about your injuries. Soap mainly answers, Ghost pitching in when needed. The whole time you kept your face hidden in Soap’s shoulder or neck, keeping the blanket up by your face.

You wouldn't let go of Soap until you were in the medical wing, laying on a bed. But even then you wanted at least one of the boys to be in the room. The nurses and head medic came in and out the entire time, asking questions upon questions, preparing you for further treatment of your condition. You eventually fell asleep after getting some pain medication and proper medical attention to all the injuries.

But when it came to stitching up the gashes that made you look like the real-life Joker from Batman, you requested Ghost or Soap to be there. They both ended up being in the room, Ghost and Soap were standing to your left, your face turned towards them, having the left side already dealt with and covered. The head medic did whatever he could to help lessen the scarring. Ghost was like a brick wall, unmoving, cold eyes as he watched the medic. Soap was letting you play with his hands, and fingers, which allowed him to play with yours in return.

Blinding lights.

The smell of cleaning products.

Beeping. Bloody Beeping.

Your eyes crack open, your nose scrunching as the blinding lights flood your vision. Your head feels heavy, and your body aches. You hear the sound of the heart monitor and another softer sound. You look around the small room, three figures can be found in the room. Soap and Gaz leaning their heads on the bed. Your right hand is held in Soap’s as he snores softly, Gaz leaning on his arms that are crossed on the bed, out cold. Ghost in the armchair in the dark corner of the room, his chin to his chest, safe to say he’s probably asleep. The door to the room opens softly, you see Price closing the door with his foot.

He smiles when he sees you awake, he approaches and places two paper cups on the table next to you. His hand falls to your shoulder, a light squeeze in greeting. You smile up at him, your free hand wrapping around his. “Got you some juice, they said not hot liquid for a week…” he mumbles softly as he hands you the paper cup. “Thanks, Cap.” You softly say, barely above a whisper, your voice scratchy from just waking up. “Those two-“ Price points to Soap and Ghost “-have been here the whole time, Gaz got up to get food for them but otherwise he's been here most of the time.” “And you?” “I came just after you passed out, Laswell sends her regards as well.” You nod in acknowledgment, your eyes finding sudden interest in the liquid in your cup.

“You did good kid, I’m proud of you.” You look up to Price who is now sipping his coffee, tears form in your eyes as you nod your head. “Drink your juice kid, get some sleep too.” He states as he ruffles your hair.

You are safe, protected, inside, warm and dry. Surrounded by your team, your friends, your found family.

————————————————————————

[blue-jisungs]

horizon zero dawn

# author's note … sigh. i started writing it in feb 2024 LMAO when me n zanna would play (i mean i would play horizon n zanna would watch) so this is dedicated to her <3 im so so sorry how shitty it gets later, you can see the diff when i came back to finish it ... (fun fact this fic was inspired by that one gif of yeonjun who took off his shoe and kicked beomgyu LMAOOO n we were like... wow that was so sneaky... imagine him attacking like that...)

# summary … you're an outcast, no one can talk to you and no one wants to... except a weird, red-headed guy

# word count … 3432

# genre … horizon zero:dawn au! (wow if u coudlnt tell by the title... axe u r sooo smart) its not really lore based, only the fact that theres dangerous machines of diff kinds and there's a major law of being an outcast but fic explains it :D

# warnings … rushed ending + an open ending so its up to interpretation what yn (you!!) choose! blood, swearing, fighting (yn bites a man lmao), killing an animal (the way i wrote the scene after seeing deers while in a car BYE), flashback in italics

it was his moment of glory.

the machine stood there, a few feet away from him yet close enough to take it down with one, precise hit.

he’ll take it down and bring the parts, gaining respect amongst the villagers.

crouching in the high grass, the gentle wind making the grass-stalk tickle his face. hands gripping the spear, he took a deep breath and slowly released it.

it was his moment… though that’s a shame that no one will see it. maybe he shouldn’t have wandered off so far.

better to hunt it fast and return before it gets dark.

the machine had massive antlers which were the most precious part. other than that he could possibly loot some shards and valuables.

yeonjun jolted forwards, jumping out of his hiding spot. the blue light in the machine’s lenses changed to red in the blink of an eye. the spearhead landed right above the eye, not making a critical damage.

“fuck” he grunted and ripped the spear out, rolled over and sank it again, this time aiming for the fragile part hidden under the belly of the machine.

it made a loud, whining noise and fell lifelessly with a thud, dust swirling in the air.

“ha, suck it” yeonjun hummed happily and kneeled down, rummaging through in search of parts.

that’s one of the reasons why he preferred mechanical animals rather than real ones. no blood, bones and skin… mess in general. just metallic gears, wirings and containers.

he noticed something shiny and dived in, a foxy smile of satisfaction painting on his lips.

yeonjun failed to notice that the noise when the machine fell dead alarmed a nearby predator.

just when he grabbed the heavy metal antlers and stood up, his eyes met with the thin red light of an angry creature.

“oh shit” he grunted and reached for his bow, fingers almost slipping with how sweaty they got.

the cheetah looking beast started running, its slim

legs making its movements faster. before yeonjun could draw a bow and shoot an arrow, the murderous creature was opening its mouth. metallic, silver fangs even from afar reflected his face in them. mere moments before it jumped and yeonjun almost released an arrow, there was a sudden swish. an arrow cut the air faster than the wind blows and it pierced the machine’s eyes from the side. it fell down on its face, moving on the ground due to the momentum. the dead piece of metal landed at yeonjun’s feet and he stared at one of the ends of an arrow poking through the lifeless lens.

“i almost got it!” he grunted and looked up. he saw someone approach him, a bow in their hand. “nice shot”

“i know” a feminine voice reached his ears and he sighed. great, now everyone in the moa village will laugh at him “that was foolish of you to stay in the open space like this”

you approached him quietly, if he didn’t see you – he wouldn’t even know you’re here. your steps were noiseless. upon further examination, he noticed your equipment – it was handmade but fully professional, adorned with blue sewings… similar to those in his tribe.

“where are you from?” you asked, noticing his eyes wandering on your bow. kneeling down to deatach the lenses of the machine. yeonjun watched how swiftly your fingers moved, prying open the material with your nails.

“moa village” he stuttered.

“you shouldn’t be talking to me then” your voice was cold as you hid the broken lens in one of the sacks you carried.

“why? i’m a curious person, i wanna talk. besides, thank you… even though i’m a great archer i guess… my timing was a little off” yeonjun grinned, patting his weapon.

“i’m an outcast” you grunted and heard him mutter a quiet ‘oh’.

the law (at least the law in those lands) forbid people to talk to outcasts. if one broke the law, they would be subject to being outcast as well. it’s a punishment – some people get exiled forever and some for a certain amount of years. it all depends on the crime committed, from stealing to murder. however, some outcasts even after being allowed to return to the village decide not to.

“but… no one is here anyway. and i want to thank you. is there a way i can repay you for saving me?” yeonjun mumbled, scratching his neck.

you looked up at him and your eyes met, his ebony irises glowing with genuine honesty… and a spark of curiosity.

“just go home and don’t get killed” you grunted and stood up, nudging the piece of metal with your foot. yeonjun nodded, a mischievous idea blooming in his head like a snowdrop flower after winter.

“sure, of course. i won’t. farewell, outcast stranger” he smiled like a fox and waved.

you watched him leave. the boy was turning around to glance at you from time to time before his silhouette blended with the landscape.

and so you parted your ways.

crouching down, bow drawn and arm stretched, you aimed at a deer. it was a bit away from its herd so you wanted to use it as an opportunity to attack without startling the rest. you just had to land the arrow perfectly between its eyes, causing an instant and painless death. your mentor always taught you that it’s the least you can do while hunting – a quick and painless death for the animal.

the deer lowered its head to start munching on fresh grass and that’s when you released an arrow. with a whistle of the air being cut, the animal dropped dead.

before you walked up to it, there was a quiet crunch of a branch breaking. you turned around, scanning the area and drawing your bow again. was it a machine? you would’ve heard it before, surely.

another crunch.

this time you were able to locate the source of the sound and moments before releasing the loaded arrow, someone jumped out of the bushes.

“don’t kill me!” he yelped and you froze, not lowering your bow. the nearby deers ran away, scared by the sudden noise. well, besides the dead one at your feet.

“you…” a grunt left your lips, realizing it’s the guy you saved two days ago. his face lit up, stepping closer. but you aimed the bow at his head “don’t. move.”

“ah– why? i’m– i don’t want to hurt you” he whined, a pout forming on his lips.

“then explain yourself. why the fuck you’re here? it’s the complete opposite direction from the way you were headed. you were spying me… but why?” you came to a conclusion, eyes trained on him. the man just giggled nervously.

“i… i know it will sound weird but i was just… curious, yeah… and i didn’t even tell you my name yet!” he reasoned and pointed at the deer “i want to help you. let me carry the deer for you?”

you sighed, putting down your bow and hiding the arrow. standing up, you nodded.

“fine. what’s your name, stranger?” you tilted your head, grabbing the arrow that was stuck in the deer. some crimson blood splashed on the ground.

“yeonjun. choi yeonjun” he said and walked up to the animal. you watched him with a puzzled look on your face “what?”

shaking your head, you smiled.

“do you even know how to–” you started but he leaned and grabbed the dead body.

“i was… taught. nevermind. lead the way, lady outcast” yeonjun hummed happily. so you did, avoiding branches.

“be careful. we’ll eat it later” you grunted, looking at him through your arm.

“we?” he repeated happily

“i’m an outcast, not a weirdo. you’ll have a stew and leave” you sighed and immediately stopped, causing yeonjun to bump into you “shh”

there was… a quiet squeaking sound somewhere in the bushes. you looked at him, cocking an eyebrow, and suddenly he smiled softly.

“that’s a fox” he smiled, catching your confused daze “i… ever since i was a kid, i attracted foxes. weird thing. but ignore it, it’ll eventually leave on its own”

letting out an amused huff you began walking again. yeonjun followed you, catching a glimpse of a copper-colored tail in the bushes.

“so… may i know your name, oh mighty outcast?” he cooed and you fidgeted with a pocket knife that you always carried around.

“at my place. also, if you think about it, it’s highly unreasonable to track a stranger and then follow them to their house, don’t you think?” you said casually, stepping over a rock.

“well, they call me ‘unserious fool’ at the village so i guess i know exactly what i’m doing” yeonjun hummed.

for a moment comfortable silence fell between you two so you took in the spirit of the woods.

autumn was your favorite season. trees turning into beautiful bouquets of yellows, reds, browns and oranges. under the sunlight, some leaves looked golden and filled up your heart with nostalgia. you lived alone so most of the time you spent outside, hunting or gathering herbs. during autumn various animals were preparing for the winter sleep so you even had a chance to admire bears if you wandered far enough. badgers, raccoons or squirrels… you loved to sit down and watch them wander in their natural habitat. not to mention all the precious mushrooms growing after a heavy rain. and during this season, the air was crisp and refreshing, even if it stung your cheeks with coldness. what’s there not to adore?

“i apologize in advance for my cooking” you said suddenly. yeonjun hummed.

“don’t worry. i ate my friend’s food and survived so it will take much to take me down” he grinned proudly.

“i noticed” you snickered, touching a tree that you passed by. its tree bark was rough and coarse but you enjoyed that feeling.

“are we there yet?” yeonjun suddenly asked and you just let out a deep sigh.

arriving at your place took a bit longer than usual… apparently yeonjun was a very slow walker and tripped twice over a stone. but you made it eventually. and the deer - surprisingly - managed to stay in one piece.

you insisted yeonjun sat down as you started preparing a stew from your whatever was nearby. herbs, dried mushrooms, leftover broth, fresh vegetables from your garden…

you felt his gaze on you and heard his calm breathing. it was quite an usual sound, as for someone who lived alone since–

“nice place you’ve got there, outcast” he hummed and when you looked over his shoulder, you saw him admiring your place.

it was rather simple. all the furniture handmade from scratch, bunches of herbs and braids of garlic attached to the walls to dry, bows and tools scattered on the floor. and a rug.

“this rug…” he breathed out, the sound of a chair scratching the floor reaching your ears. the faint sound of his bones cracking signaled that he kneeled down.

yeonjun’s fingers traced the rough material of the beautifully crafted rug. light blues, greens and yellows braided and intertwined together only to blend with a thick white stitching. a spiral of colors leading to three x signs in the middle.

he turned around, eyes widened. he felt a cold metal on his neck, of a nearest weapon you grabbed, your cold gaze meeting him from above. raising his chin, his mouth fell ajar.

“you’re from moa village?” yeonjun breathed out, utterly shocked.

“so what if i am? were you sent to spy on me, yeonjun?” you grunted and he shook his head vigorously as a no.

“no! no, no! i was just… it’s difficult to explain but there was just something pulling me towards you and i couldn’t… i had to figure out what…” he started explaining. his hands roamed on the floor but you only poked the spear at his throat further.

“don’t. move.” you hissed through your clenched teeth.

“i promise i don’t want to hurt you!” yeonjun whined, panicked.

“you wouldn’t even hurt a fly, junjun. i’m not scared ‘bout that” you said slowly, watching his features morph into pure shock. eyes widened, nose flaring, mouth open wide and chest rising up and down quickly “i’m just thinking what to do with you now”

“no one has ever called me that in ten years” he murmured. and then you saw it: a spark of realization in his ebony eyes “y/n…?”

lowering your spear, you saw you might’ve accidentally pressed too hard: a faint trickle of scarlet blood ran down his neck.

but he didn’t care, rising to his feet and… wrapping his arms around you. now it was your turn to be left frozen, not knowing how to react. you haven’t felt the touch of a human in ten years, not to mention how it was to hug.

“it’s you” he stuttered, burying his head in your neck. whereas you choked back tears, he didn’t hold himself back. broken sobs escaped his lips, body shaking in your arms. you slowly, awkwardly even, hugged him back.

being a girl is tough, especially in a village when there’s a majority of men. luckily, you had some friends that weren’t as bad as other boys in the village. beomgyu, soobin, kai, taehyun… and yeonjun. you lost your parents while they were out on a hunt whe you were 8 and ever since, soobin’s family took care of you. but you loved playing with all of them equally.

when they hit the age of 13, they had to prepare to become an important part of the tribe one day. their trainings began, slowly losing time to hang out with you.

but yeonjun always tried to spend some time with you. sometimes you two would sneak out at night and go on walks, to catch up.

it all took a turn when one day one of the village boys, older than you, started bugging you.

“come on, why are you hanging out with those losers? they are all gonna end up as butchers or blacksmiths, you should stick with me. i’ll be a hunter” he grinned, grabbing your wrist.

“leave me alone, fucker. at least they are normal” you grunted, trying to run away from his hold.

“normal? come on, they’d ditch you the second they had a chance” the boy, kinam, pulled you closer.

“they wouldn’t. don’t even try to talk about them” you shook your head.

“come on, it’s not even like they’re gonna defend themselves because yeonjun is a pussy!”

“he’s not!” you huffed, attempting to wriggle away from his hold. when you noticed trying to run away doesn’t work, you decided to take a swing and punch him. not only to run away but also he deserved it: no one will talk bad about your friends. especially junjun.

his, oh so manly, scream attracted attention. people gathered to see what was happening.

“oh i’ll beat you up” he hissed, coming at you.

yeonjun heard yells and frowned upon realizing there’s a feminine voice. running to see what’s happening, pushing through the crowd… he saw you, covered in blood. but so was kinam, in who you were currently sinking your teeth.

“y/n, stop, you’ll–” yeonjun called and ran to grab you, separating from the other boy. kinam started attacking him but yeonjun’s hold around you only tightened. curling your back, he took the hits.

“enough! what is happening here?” an elderly voice spoke up. it was kinam’s father, the tribe leader.

“she started punching me, i only acted in self defense!” kinam shouted. you just shook your head, tears running down your cheeks.

“that’s not true… i just wanted to escape and he wouldn’t let go…” you whispered. yeonjun lulled you softly.

“i know, don’t worry. it’ll be okay” he hummed; however, there were dark thoughts in his head. violence in the village wasn’t accepted. and this was the leader’s son, after all.

“you attacked my son?” his father asked, the bass of his voice booming in your ears. shaking your head as a no, the realization began to settle in.

you’re in trouble.

“no, it was him who…” you started and slightly tapped yeonjun to move. he helped you stand up and grabbed your hand.

“you did attack my son. there are witnesses” the leader said, eyeing you up and down. soobin and his parents arrived, fear in their eyes.

“no, it was-!”

“kinam would never attack a lady. we saw and heard when you hit him first” an older lady standing by cut in. you began shaking your head as no, managing eye contact with mrs choi. she knew.

“you will be punished” was all what the leader said and turned around, grabbing his son’s wrist. before walking away, kinam sent you a victorious smirk.

the crowd disappeared and you clutched onto yeonjun, unable to control your sobs.

“i attacked him but only because he was saying shit about you… and he wouldn’t let go of me” you cried, panicking. yeonjun saw soobin’s family approaching “i don’t wanna be exiled, junjun, please…”

but life - nor law - isn’t always fair. this was the last time you hugged yeonjun, being sent into to wild to lead the life of an outcast. no one was permitted to talk to you and you weren’t able to say goodbye to your guardian parents, friends.

with tears in your eyes and just a bunch of your stuff in your arms, you saw them for the last time. beomgyu and taehyun had to hold yeonjun back from running after you as the village guards closed the gate.

your exile was meant to last 15 years.

so as a 14 year olds you thought you'd never see each other again. especially that you didn’t have any knowledge of how to survive in the wild.

but here you are, reunited.

yeonjun leaned away, his eyes puffy.

“how… i… holy shit” he breathed out, his lower lip quivering. you smiled softly and wiped his wet cheeks.

“i managed. i’ve stumbled across some people, they were travelers and didn’t mind helping me. i’ve learned how to hunt, gather… it was okay. hey, don’t cry” a gentle scoff left your lips upon seeing his eyes tear up again.

“you were just a girl… i’m so sorry” he croaked out, shaking his head. then, he managed to smile “you recognized me right away, didn’t you? why didn’t you tell me?”

“when you said you’re from our village. i didn’t want to say because i knew you wouldn’t want to come back. i didn’t want you to live in pain that i’m in” you hummed and brushed his hair away

“we were sure you are alive. no one doubted you– holy shit” he gasped, eyes twinkling.

“what?” you frowned. yeonjun ran his fingers through his hair nervously but a huge smile painting on his lips gave him away.

“kinam is the leader now, his father passed away. it was like two years ago and he admitted he angered you on purpose. he, um, felt really bad and said that it haunts him everyday. he wished he could tell you that you are safe to come back” yeonjun breathed out and you blinked, sitting down on you bed.

he did the same, grabbing your hand.

“that’s why i became a hunter. the day you were outcasted, i changed my training. i suck at it, yeah, but that was the only way to leave the village. and i can’t believe i found you” the man grinned, admiring your changed features. changed but still beautiful.

you observed his eyes widen.

“come back to the village. or let me live with you! i- i can’t live without you now that i know you’re here and, and-” yeonjun mumbled, falling to his knees and burying his face in the fabric of your shirt. you ran your fingers through his soft locks and smiled gently.

“junjun, stand up” your voice was quiet but he obliged in a blink of an eye, taking in a sharp breath “i missed you so much”

and with that, you captured his lips in a long kiss. it was full of never spoken confessions, ever-lasting feelings and love. pure love that only parted lovers could share.

with that, his soft lips on yours; you made up your mind where you will continue your life. whether it was in your faraway safe place or back in the hometown you haven’t stepped foot in years, you knew everything will be perfectly fine because now you have yeonjun by your side.

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @mirxzii ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura

@nicholasluvbot ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,, @ocean-minho ,,

@eternalgyu ,, @haecien ,, @nonononranghaee

[bulbabutt]

Thank you for being a bastion of sanity amidst the growing "but proshippers! But incest! But RPF!" purity culture's nonsense.

I'm so tired of being afraid to admit that I've even read a fanfic/fancomic because that same person might have a DIFFERENT ACCOUNT where they indulge in a problematic ship. And therefore they are "bad" and by association, I could be labeled "bad" for having looked at something completely unrelated and tossed on a block list.

It's asinine. Yet I'm too afraid to even get off anon because I know I don't have the mental fortitude to survive a potential online witch hunt.

So thank you, I wish you all the strength to keep screaming the words I cannot.

honestly youre not the first person to send me an anon about this, i just tend to feel just as afraid of responding to them as much as you are afraid of coming off anon. i think because while ill post things in vague context, it becomes another thing when someone says it out loud, yknow? but i appreciate it, knowing im not just screaming into a void where no one likes what i have to say.

i think what i will say is im not the only one who THINKS like i do, but i am just dumb enough to be loud and annoying about it. its kind of a thing where i'd never say anything specific because like... some people are so vicious and will demand blood if they get a whiff if i mention anything vaguely. the fact i have to be afraid to say 'people dont mind' for their own safety is crazy, huh?

i think that thing youre saying about being worried by association from association was the same first time i had this thought. i was reading something so good so deep something that effected me so deeply from how well it was talking about the realistic effects of incestuous abuse, and then i went to see what else the author had written and i was like. oh. theres just regular incest in here too. and that was kind of a moment of hm.. perhaps i need to think more about what really matters here. the fact i can engage with what i want and just say 'oh i see what else you do, thats not for me so i will just not engage with that'

so it hurts worse when theres the idea of someone engaging with art they like that has nothing 'weird' going on, then suddenly getting hit with screaming that that artist has a side account theyre not advertising where they make weird art that they are keeping FULLY separate from the account in question. like i do not see how that helps anybody in that situation.

then theres the generalization of it. the idea that maybe all you did was draw like. 19 yr old versions of two 15 yr olds kissing, and suddenly that gets you put on a list of people who will draw literal children in sexual situations, gets you put in that same boat without question. that shit is so cruel to me, that these things all get painted with the same brush. equally as bad, equally as deserving of being ostracized. or the idea that you get put on that list for not caring about if strangers ship things on the internet, makes you just as bad as someone who makes it. i really just hate this entire culture.

idk im... old school i guess? back in my day youd watch a shitty cartoon that had over 20 characters in it so you could smash them together in whatever ship suited you. crack ships were the bread and butter of me and my friends, shit that made no sense but in your own head. the idea of being anti... shipping at all is so... thats very weird. shipping as a thing is very much what fandom was ever made for in the first place? like. im not kidding, learn your history if you dont know that (middle age women shipping kirk and spock)

back when i was a kid i watched this tv show called kim possible, and i was a kid who didnt know shit about themselves seeing a pretty villain lady for the first time who called the main character who was a girl princess. i didnt know what to make of that, i didnt know the age difference between them i was a dumbass child, they were both drawn the same way! then im like 12 years old on the internet, i see theres a ship of the teenage girl and this like 30 yr old villain woman. do you think my 12 year old self saw the problematic nature and thought deeply about the morals of said ship? no. i was like 'holy shit i wish i was the teenage girl dating shego. why do i like this? oh god im a lesbian'

again. i was a child. what are you gonna do, go back in time and arrest my 12 year old ass for looking at pg rated fanart of women kissing on the internet? we didnt HAVE real representation yet! there was no korrasami, no rupphire, no bubbline, no lumity! shipping was the only place you could see stuff that was gay! and it being GAY would get you in more trouble than it having an age gap!

the fact is people WOULD cancel me now for that, wouldnt you?! thats where we're at. that IS a problematic ship, id be put on a blocklist in todays internet for being a child who crushed on villains. i didnt make it, i didnt create for it, i just looked at it and that would get you in trouble now!!! thats crazy.

i know thats a random tangent to go off on, but like..... hhhhh i dont know man. sometimes it seems like people want the internet to pass by broadcasting standards and practices and thats!!! bad!!! let people experiment with their weird shit as they figure themselves out, its so fucking normal. youre not a bad person for looking at things on the internet, youre not a bad person for engaging with things, youre not a bad person for being horny online! especially if you make your own fucking space for it?? a space easily blacklistable, with trigger warnings and EVERYTHING... we didnt have those when i was a kid, so some things are better, but culture is just worse.

i dunno. i just think i would not have thrived in this environment as a teenager. im glad im old and know better, but i worry about the lessons kids are learning from this. to feel ashamed, to bottle shit up, its not good for you. be kind to yourself, be kind to others. we're all working through shit in our own ways.

sorry for another long annoying post

[ghostinthez0nes]

Kobra Kid Headcanons lets go

Likes tight clothing, makes him feel more secure and safe.

Will teach you karate if you bribe him enough, but it takes a’lot of bribing.

Doesn’t really care about gender or pronouns, but likes xe/xer pronouns because they sound cool.

Touch his hair and he’ll bite your hand.

Motorbike stunts for days.

A short fuse but a master at keeping cool. When he’s really pissed tho someone will get their teeth knocked in.

Doesn’t admit it but relies heavily on Party to keep his head above water.

Prefers driving around at night when it’s quieter and less bright.

Loves sweet and spicy food, bonus points if its both.

Becomes aggressive when overwhelmed and scared.

Loves sunrises. He will sometimes stay up all night just so he can watch the sun come up early in the morning.

Party helped make his helmet, they’re to thank for the paint job.

Keeps a little dino keychain in his pocket at all times.

Has horrible tan lines from wearing his sunglasses too long in the sun.

Flappy hands and stompy feet when excited.

Light sensitive, thus the sunglasses. Wears them indoors and at night too.

The most anxious around injuries, he doesn’t like blood.

Snorts when he laughs.

Loves the desert and the freedom that comes with it.

Has a very keen sense of smell and is very good at figuring out where the smell is coming from.

Knows sign language and uses it instead of speaking to communicate sometimes.

Absolutely HATES powerpup but forces himself to eat it if theres nothing else even if it makes him sick. Party tries really hard to look for other kinds of food when going on supply runs so his poor brother can eat.

Chews on the straps of his leather gloves when anxious.

Really likes bubbles.

Sleeps in his jacket for security.

A troublemaker with Ghoul and always finds ways to pull off stupid shit with him.

Likes Michael Bay movies.

Hardly ever cries, but when he does it’s cathartic. The others need to intervene because he chokes up while he’s heaving.

Prefers comics over books, he likes looking at pictures better.

Only the girl is allowed to doodle on his bike, if the others try he will deck them.

Most terrified of being captured by Bli, he doesn’t ever want to go back to the city.

Can play the harmonica really well.

Loves old and broken technology because he thinks its cool and likes to fix things.

Teaches the others to read, especially Jet and Ghoul. Ghoul can read but has dyslexia, Jet never really learned how to read properly at all.

Will try to pet any reptile he sees, even if its venomous or poisonous.

Can sleep sitting up, the others sometimes need to do a double take and check if he’s awake or not since he always wears sunglasses.

Obsessed with VHS tapes and has a collection of them with god knows what on them.

Freezes when panicking, will stay in shock at something until someone needs to move him.

Likes close range combat so he can show off his karate skills.

Instead of cussing in an argument he’ll just look at someone like they’re stupid.

Makes action figures for the girl out of spare parts, responsible for all of her robot toys.

Takes AGES to do his hair, hence why he wants no one to touch it.

If he’s not in his room at night, he’s on the diner roof watching the stars.

When the girl was a toddler, she would call him Kobi instead of Kobra.

Has a wide vocabulary due to being educated in the city, but refuses to use it.

Lost a tooth after an accident on the crash track, he gave it to Ghoul who turned it into a pendant.

[sllverchariot]

the rest of our lives [gale dekarios x durge!reader]

my first gale fic hehe theres not enough gale love out there so i am here to provide… if anyone has any prompts or requests pls let me know!!!

not much to say abt this other than durge is sad about being durge and gale is there to help <3

word count: 2.4k

notes: a little angsty, a little hurt/comfort, mostly soft and sweet tho. dont think i used any pronouns for reader buttt i dont remember oops

The water was still, the night was quiet, everything bathed in darkness save for the soft glow of the moon and its reflection on the waters in front of you.

You took quick, shallow breaths as you gazed over the softly rippling lake for a moment, before shutting your eyes tight. The Urge. It felt like it was devouring you. Swallowing you whole. Like you were in the middle of the sea and each time you tried to swim to shore another wave would crash and engulf you completely. It was relentless. Suffocating.

Many of your nights were spent like this. Restless dreams gave way to the even more exhausting waking hours. So many early morning hours spent with your hands balled into fists and jaw clenched while your companions slept, trying desperately to contain the bloodthirsty compulsions that wracked your body.

Everyday you fought against your Urges. Your energy was divided between the daily journey and battles, and keeping your murderous impulses at bay. It was exhausting. And even despite your resistance, every day felt like one step forward and three steps back.

The weight on your shoulders had grown even heavier lately, following an evening spent with your beloved wizard.

An intimate, romantic, yet bittersweet night spent both underneath and within the beautiful cosmic landscape he painted in the sky for you.

You and your companions had just reached Moonrise Towers, making that very first step into the place you’d fought so hard to reach. You didn’t stay long that first day, merely testing the waters and getting the lay of the land. Everyone was already so exhausted by the time you arrived, no one was quite ready to face what lay beyond. Just a quick peek inside before returning to camp, with a misguided hope that a long rest may better prepare you all for the challenges ahead.

After peeling off your armor and washing off the blood and dirt of the day, you noticed the absence of your favorite wizard, replaced instead by a glowing copy.

You approached his likeness, trying to push down the growing feeling of dread in your gut. Your mind always seemed to go to the worst place. Every terrible possibility flitted through your mind as you made your way to the projection. You were always worried about Gale. That feeling was only magnified after the bombshell Elminster dropped on Mystra’s behalf not too long ago. Mystra. Your blood boiled at the very thought of the goddess.

But that evening you weren’t worried about Mystra, not directly at least. You were only worried about Gale, and unraveling the mystery of his absence.

Why wasn’t he at camp? Where had he gone? Had he done something rash? Was he okay?

Every passing thought just served to deepen the pit in your stomach. But as you spoke with his mirror image, the wave of relief that washed over you was so powerful you feared you’d burst into tears on the spot.

You followed the wizard's copy through the woods and into a clearing, where you found the man himself. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in your surroundings. Gale, sat on a blanket beneath the most beautiful night sky you’d ever seen. Hands weaving through the air, as he quite literally hung each star in the sky for you.

That night was more than you could’ve ever dared to hope for. Something right out of a fairytale, your deepest desire that you’d never let yourself imagine becoming reality.

Your beloved Wizard of Waterdeep. Gale. You’d have plucked the sun from the sky if he’d asked you, if it meant seeing that smile that you’d grown to hold so dear.

Even after all of your terrible mistakes, he’d brought you here tonight. Still painted the most beautiful picture in the sky for you. Confessed his love to you in the most gut wrenching way, his voice laced with nerves and uncertainty, as if you wouldn’t already go to the ends of the earth for him. As if there was any universe where hearing those three little words from his lips one single time wasn’t enough to fuel you for the rest of your days.

Even after Alfira. Even after that night where you nearly killed him. Despite all of your evil, he still loved you.

But it was nights like tonight when you almost wished he didn’t. The nights when your Urges felt impossible to fight, and you feared they may truly take over again. You wanted to protect Gale, not hurt him. You wanted to hide him away from every wicked thing this world had to offer, yourself included. To save him from his goddess. To ease his pain, to heal his wounds.

You curled into a ball on the beach, nails digging into your arms, letting the pain be your anchor to reality. You tried to curl into yourself further, as if pushing yourself in would help keep you together. You lie there gasping for breath, face wet with hot tears you hadn’t even noticed were falling.

You were stronger than this. You were more than this. More than your Urges, more than your past, whatever it may be.

You repeated this mantra in your mind until the words didn’t even sound like words anymore, and your consciousness slipped away, letting you drift into yet another restless nightmare.

When you awoke the next morning, in the wee hours just as the sun began to rise, your sweating, trembling form was beneath a soft blanket, and your head atop a cushion. A far cry from the sorry state you’d fallen asleep in.

Beside you, just a few feet away, was Gale.

Sprawled out on his own bedroll, a book lay open across his chest.

You pushed yourself to sit up, letting the blanket fall to your lap as you scanned his sleeping form. The early morning sun illuminating his features in the most beautiful way. He looked so peaceful like this, a stark difference from your own torturous slumber.

Your heart ached at the sight of him. When did he come out here? Why did he stay out here?

You fought the impulse to reach out and touch him, too afraid to risk waking him. But then, as if he could hear your thoughts, his eyes fluttered open.

He blinked a few times as he woke, eyes slowly beginning to make out your form, backlit by the morning sun rising over your shoulder.

Immediately, his lips curled into a smile, gaze softening as he took you in.

Your breath caught in your throat as you met his deep brown eyes, flickering with affection.

“Good morning, my dear.” He said softly, voice still low from sleep. He pushed himself onto his elbows, the book on his chest slipping as he shifted. Your hand shot out to grab it before it hit the dirt. He chuckled quietly, sitting up fully then as you held the book out to him. “It appears I dozed off last night.” He rubbed his eyes, and took the book from you, slipping a bookmark into the pages before setting it down beside him.

“Why… are you out here?” You croaked out, mind swirling with thoughts. Maybe he was here because he was afraid. For himself, for your companions. Maybe he saw your little episode last night and feared you’d do something unpredictable again. Your stomach twisted at these thoughts. If that was the reason, it was perfectly understandable. But that didn’t make the thought hurt any less.

He reached out and took your hand within his own, his warm embrace engulfing you as he gave it a gentle squeeze. “I was worried about you. Thought I might lend you some company.”

“Worried about me? Or worried about what I might do?” The words left your lips before you had time to consider them, and you immediately regretted it. Your eyes went wide, wishing you could take them back right then. But the damage was done. A look of hurt briefly flickered across his features, before his brows furrowed.

“Can’t it be both?” He questioned, eyes full of worry and concern, and your heart twisted painfully in your chest. His other hand came up to cup yours. His warm, gentle hands cradled your cold fingers, with your threatening claws and cuticles bitten raw. “Can I not worry for you when I find you missing from camp? Can I not worry about what you may do to yourself when I can’t see you? Can I not be concerned for you when I find you curled in the fetal position alone on the beach, sweating and shaking with tear stained cheeks and claw marks on your arms?” His hands squeezed yours tighter now, looking at you with pleading eyes. If your heart hadn’t broken before, it most certainly snapped clean in half by now.

Your throat burned as tears began to well in your eyes again, every word drying up on your tongue. You took a breath, and pulled your hands from his.

Before he had time to react, you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, nearly tackling him to the ground as you buried your face into his neck.

A small grunt escaped his lips at the impact, body tensing for the briefest of moments before melting into your touch, arms circling around to clasp behind your back. You couldn’t hold back the tears now, body shaking with sobs as you clutched desperately onto the fabric of his shirt.

His hands stroked up and down your back comfortingly, his face buried in your hair as he whispered reassurances against your skin. You felt like a blubbering child, unable to hold in your emotions any longer as he held you.

The two of you stayed like that for several minutes, until your wails finally subsided enough that you could breathe again. You looked at him with glassy eyes, your face red and puffy from tears. His gentle expression never wavered, still holding that same gentleness and concern he always exuded.

“I’m sorry,” You croaked, using the heels of your hands to furiously wipe at your wet eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m just so– I don’t know. I’m so worried. All the time. I fight so hard, every day. And still I fail to keep the Urges at bay. I don’t want to hurt you, Gale. I can’t. But I’m so fucking scared that I might.” Your voice cracked at the end as you tried to bite back yet another sob. “I love you gale. More than anything in the world. I just want to protect you… From all of the evil that lurks here. Protect you from me.”

His hands came up to cradle your face, forcing you to look at him as the pad of his thumb swiped away the tears gathering in your eyes.

“You needn’t protect me from anything, my love. Least of all you.” He murmured softly, thumb still gently stroking your face as he held it. “I love you more than even I can put into words, even with all the words I know. And I would love you even if you did rip out my heart, so long as you were the one to do it.” A sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob escaped your lips as he spoke, a smile spread across your face through the tears. “You make me feel whole again, despite everything. All those days locked away in my tower, I’d have spent a thousand more if it meant even one minute with you.”

Your heart was so full you almost felt nauseous. Gale. Your Gale. He meant everything to you. You would do any and everything it took to see him happy, keep him safe. Even if it meant a hundred years of sleepless nights alone in the cold dirt.

You reached a hand out to press against his chest, hand flat against his skin where the orb lay. You could feel the quiet hum of magic buzzing beneath the surface.

“I will fight this Urge. I will fight it to the end even if it tears me apart to try. And I will save you, Gale. I will get this thing out of your chest, I promise you.” You spoke quietly, fingers brushing against his carved skin. “So long as I draw breath, I will fight for our happily ever after.” You looked back up at him with a smile, his own expression mirroring yours, before straightening up and pulling him in for a kiss.

It was far from the first time your lips met his. Since your night in the stars, you selfishly took every opportunity that presented itself to kiss the wizard. But still, every time, your heart beat faster and your stomach fluttered, as though you were a school girl with her crush. Sparks seemed to fly every time, without fail. You had to force yourself to draw away from him, but you would’ve happily stayed like that forever if not for your lungs nagging need for air.

But eventually, you did will yourself to part from him, opting instead to cuddle up against his side as the two of you watched the sun rise the rest of the way.

“How long were you out here?” You questioned, breaking the silence as you peered up at him.

”I’m not entirely sure, actually. I flew into such a panic when I didn’t see you by the fire, that by the time I finally found you I was wide awake. So after I tucked you in and settled myself, I went and found a book to keep me occupied. You were so restless. Your body was convulsing, and your eyes darting around beneath their lids, I couldn’t dare go to sleep anyway. But you appeared to calm when I spoke, so speak I did. But then I realized it’d be awfully embarrassing for you to wake up to me composing a thousand sonnets about my love for you, so I elected to read the book aloud instead.” He patted the hardcover of the book that lay at his side with a nervous chuckle.

Your stomach flipped at his confession, and you wrapped your arms around him a little tighter, burying your face in his chest and inhaling his scent.

”Thank you,” You whispered. “I don’t know what in the Hells I did to deserve you. But I promise to spend the rest of my life showing my gratitude.”

You felt the quiet laugh that rippled through his chest, his hand coming up to stroke your hair. “Careful, I might just hold you to that.”