#I love Parachute so much you do not understand | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spaceshipellie · 1 year

Text

everything’s about you to me

ellie williams x reader

prologue (masterlist for other parts) *✧･ﾟ: wc: 1.7k

summary: in the midst of the apocalypse, you and ellie find each other after you’ve both lost everything. what started out as a mere safety in numbers pairing, turns into something imperishable. however, after some time you get separated, leaving you both to believe the other is dead. four years later you find a commune in wyoming.

warnings: set in tlou universe. reader is 16 in the prologue but is 19+ for the rest of the story, weapons, gunshots, death, violence, no mention of ellie yet but all in due course cuties, is this going to be a slow burn? maybe… 18+ mdni

author’s note: this fic was originally inspired by the song everything by muna. i’m so excited for this, if you want to be added to the tag list lmk! i have no idea how many parts this will be but i expect it’ll be quite long. thanks for reading loves <3

♪ ‘cause the world could be burning, and all i’d be thinking, is “how are you doing, baby?”

˚ · • . ° .

You didn’t know it yet, but your time in the Pittsburgh QZ was wearing thin. You had lived there your entire life, sixteen years to be exact. For people who lived pre-outbreak, a military-controlled quarantine zone probably didn’t seem like much of a home, but it was all you knew. Your dad was a smuggler and whilst for the past few years had managed to keep you and your mom out of it, his current job was proving to be riskier than originally anticipated.

“You said it would be quick,” you heard his seething whisper whilst you backed yourself against the other side of the wall, listening in.

“It was supposed to be! look, man, I’m sorry,” another man’s voice said.

“Just–fuck, just make sure we get the stuff we need before we hand anything over, alright?”

“We’ll try.”

“No,” you could hear shoving, “you will, understand?”

“Yes,” you could tell the man was nervous despite trying to hide it.

“If this goes wrong, they’ll come after us, and my family. I know this is a fucked up situation and I should never have got involved with that fucking Aaron guy in the first place but here we are and I am not letting my wife and daughter die because of me, got it?”

Die? Your blood ran cold wondering what on earth your dad had gotten involved with this time. You heard the man mumble out a “yes” before the door shut and your dad sighed and banged his fist against the table. Not wanting to get caught, you creeped back to your room.

Once inside, you settled into the beat-up armchair that you had pushed against the window and stared out at the night sky. Stars twinkled and the moon shone a bright white. For a moment, you could pretend you were somewhere else. Somewhere where everything looked this beautiful. It was a stark contrast to the withered frame of dust and peeling paint.

You could hear muffled voices coming from your parent’s room. They sounded like they were arguing and said something about talking to this Aaron guy on the radio. They did that a lot these days. argue. You knew they still loved each other but after silently analysing their relationship over the years, you could see that something of a ‘spark’ had gone. Then again, what did you know, it’s not like you had ever been in love. The closest you had ever gotten to a connection with anyone had been with Amy. When her hair would get caught in her mouth as you both stood on a roof laughing at how the wind parachuted your coats, you wanted to reach out and untangle it for her. Sometimes she would give you this look where her eyes would soften and her dimples would make themselves known as she smiled. It would make your heart skip a beat and you would forget what you were supposed to be doing. You guessed that’s just how best friend’s felt about each other. Completely lost in a trance, you didn’t notice the sound of thundering footsteps down the hall until a rough hand grabbed your arm.

“What?”

“We’re leaving,” your dad’s voice was indignant and stern.

“Leaving? where?”

Your mom burst through the door, her face soaked in fear.

“Charlie, please,” she pleaded, grabbing his arm.

“I’m sorry but we have to go.”

“Go where?” you demanded. You could feel the goosebumps raise on your arms. He couldn’t be talking about escaping, could he?

“We’re leaving the QZ. Come on, grab your stuff.” You just froze.

“Come on!” he yelled before running a hand over his face. He collected his anger just enough to look you in the eye and speak clearly.

“I don’t have time to explain, but some guys have fucked me over and it is safer for us to escape and leave.”

“But we’ll be killed!”

“We will be if we stay here. Now please, grab your stuff.”

His last three words came out with a bite and you thought better of arguing further. You looked across the room to your mum and she made a poor attempt at giving you a comforting look. Tears stung against your waterline and you quickly wiped them away with your sleeve before grabbing your things together. Not everything of course. Not the Thelma and Louise poster you found once or the sketch Amy had drawn of the two of you before she died. But the essentials. Torches, jackets, guns, knives.

Your dad looked out the window, making a mental note of military whereabouts, before encouraging you and your mum out the door. You didn’t want to leave. You had never been outside the QZ and had only heard horror stories. Thoughts of where you would go once you got out, if you got out, clouded your mind. It scared you to think of what kind of trouble your dad had gotten himself into that needed such drastic action. You knew he did bad things but you knew he wasn’t the only one and there wasn’t much you could do about it. When he first started smuggling you had been afraid all the time, but over the years you became numb to it. That’s just what he did. But now all of those fears were resurfacing and you weren’t ready to face the high chance that you could die tonight.

The three of you were pressed against the outside wall, your dad in front holding his finger to his lips indicating you needed to be quiet. Your parent’s both held guns whilst you clutched your switchblade. It was dark but blinding lights from patrolling tanks occasionally illuminated the dank alleyways.

“We need to get over there, we move on my signal,” you could barely hear your dad’s whisper as he pointed at a metal fence on the other side of the road. You tried your best to be silent but couldn’t help the way your breath shook as you nodded.

After peering around the corner once more, he lifted his hand up, signalling for you to follow him. You had to be agile in order to make it across safely, which luckily was a strength of yours. You may not have ever been outside of the QZ but you had snuck around with Amy enough times to know how to go unnoticed. This was nothing like that though. Sneaking around and being teenagers didn’t feel like a death sentence.

You bumped into your mom’s back as you all suddenly stopped behind a parked truck. It started to rain and you were thankful that the splatters of water might cover up any sounds of laboured breaths and footsteps from you. A bright light casted over the truck as you strained to keep your head below the window. You were moving again and the fence was in sight. The closer you got the more you could make out a chained padlock on a gate. A menacing sign saying “UNAUTHORISED EXITS FROM A QUARANTINE ZONE ARE PUNISHABLE BY DEATH” was hung up next to your heads. Your palms began to sweat as your dad pulled a key from his pocket. You didn’t even want to know what he must have done to get that. He started to unlock and unwind the chains from the gate. You were so close. Maybe this insane plan would actually work.

“Drop your weapons.”

You all froze and slowly turned, initially to squint as a torch shone directly in your eyes. After a few blinks, your vision cleared to see a guard holding up a gun. You felt like you were choking and if anything the grip on your knife tightened instinctively.

“I said drop your weapons.”

You threw your switchblade to the ground. Your parent’s followed suit with their guns. The guard took a step closer.

“Let me exp–,” your dad attempted to reason but was cut off.

“On your knees and put your hands on your head.”

You glanced at your mom and she hesitantly nodded. You sunk to your knees, the cold, wet gravel soaking through your jeans to your skin. Your hands trembled as you placed them on your head. The guard, still aiming his gun at you, checked you all with the infection scanner before stepping back to his original spot.

“Sir, I’ve got three clean but armed people here by gate three. How would you like me to proceed?” he spoke into his handheld transceiver.

“Uh-huh… yes… yes sir.”

Before you could even think, two deafening gunshots went off in quick succession. Your head snapped round and you saw your dad pointing a gun at the guard, as well as a mass of blood soaking his shirt. You noticed the guard stumble and in a blind rush of adrenaline you snatched your switchblade from the floor. Your mom’s hand grabbed you, pulling you back from where the guard was aiming his gun again.

Another bullet fired. Your mom screamed. You grabbed her arm to support her and looked up at your dad for help.

“Go!” he yelled, firing again. You could hear more guards charging towards you.

“Dad,” your voice came out weak and strangled.

“I said go!” you had never heard his voice be this frightening. Fear carried your legs as you pushed your mom through the open gate. You shoved yourself through it as well, not knowing what lay ahead in the darkness before you. You could only focus on getting away from the constant gunshots. You didn’t stop moving but your movements had slowed as you looked back.

“Dad, please!” you yelled, tears making your cheeks hot.

He was being pushed against the fence by three, maybe four faceless guards. You could hear the struggle in his distant grunts as he fought against them. They were beating and shooting until his body went limp on the ground, next to the guard he shot.

“No,” your voice was a mere whisper to yourself. Shock and disbelief ringing in your ears.

“We have to go,” your mom pulled you away, she was crying too, “before they catch up to us.”

You both frantically ran whilst the adrenaline was still controlling you. Your mom groaned with each step. You didn’t even know where she had been hit but at least she was alive. You had got out and there didn’t seem to be anyone chasing you, but your dad was dead. Escaping seemed so futile now. It had been his idea. his plan. His doing that meant you needed to leave in the first place and yet it had ended like this. And now, to no avail, you had no protection. Nothing except what you carried on your back. You were out in the big wide world. A big, wide, terrifying world.

*✧･ﾟ: taglist: @bellasfavelesbo @ximtiredx @abbyily @heartzjules @gold-dustwomxn @sawaagyapong @aouiaa @pinkigirl @nil-eena @ucannotcompare @cherriesxinthespring @blvebanisters

623 notes · View notes

charlotte-of-wales · 7 months

Text

A speech by The Duchess of Edinburgh at the Community Sport and Recreation Awards, at Headingley Stadium, Leeds, ahead of The Duke of Edinburgh’s 60th birthday:

First may I say how wonderful it is to be here with so many people who are doing so much to change lives through grassroots sport. There have been some remarkable stories that have been honoured today and a particular congratulations to Fulham Reach Boat Club for being recognised as Community Club of the Year.

If I may, I beg your indulgence for a few minutes, as I wanted to also take this opportunity to recognise another great milestone and share a small tribute to my darling husband as he celebrates his 60th Birthday, this Sunday.

Now I know from the many years of marriage we have chalked up, 25 years in June to be precise, he will be horrified at seeing me up here speaking about him in public. Without looking at him, I am guessing he will now be sitting back with slightly narrowed eyes, possibly with his arms folded, or one arm stretched out across the table and to all intents and purposes looking identical to his father when I made speeches about him.

I twice spoke about The late Duke of Edinburgh in his presence, on both occasions feeling like I was about to launch myself out of an airplane without a parachute, but holding on to the vague hope of a soft landing. You have to appreciate that my father-in-law never liked anyone to pay him compliments, believing that it was the organisations he supported that were important, not him.

However, the fact that I wasn't in the doghouse after either of the speeches reassured me that I hadn't at least committed any major faux pas and I was therefore able to stand the getaway cars down.

So, like then and with my husband of the same opinion as my father-in-law, and with fresh fully fuelled cars at the ready here goes – as I give you more of an insight of the man to whom I am so proud to be married.

Edward is probably best known for his support of the youth organisation the DofE, founded by his father which takes much of his time as he chairs committees, writes strategies as he helps to guide and shape the current activities and future of the charity in the UK and across the world. He challenges those who lead it, encourages others who work within it or support it, and loves meeting and chatting with those who benefit from it. You can only guess the number of hours he devotes to this, the most inspiring of youth charities.

Beyond the DofE, he passionately supports an array of other charities and organisations, each of which he takes as seriously. Whether it be focussing on the sporting endeavours from athletes around the Commonwealth both able and disabled; encouraging organisations offering opportunities for people to gain access to sport and activities such as the fantastic work of the Sport and Recreation Alliance, which we are celebrating today; working throughout the arts with young talented musicians, or seasoned professionals who enrich our society, or visiting and encouraging the wonderful Central Caribbean Marine Institute which does so much to protect and enhance our unseen and vital underwater world. The list is long and a reflection of just some of his interests.

I encourage you to take a walk through his CV of affiliations and marvel at the breadth of them, each doing their part to make our world a better place and to understand that he is not just a name on a piece of paper, but that he commits of himself to them all and cares deeply for each of them.

He takes undoubted pride in his military affiliations too. Not only do I think that he wears a uniform extremely well, he takes an enormous interest in their vital work and loves nothing better than to go offline and spend happy hours talking one-to-one with those who do so much to serve our country.

He has been my guide and shown me the way over the years. He has given me much help and advice (not always taken I admit), and his knowledge and instincts that have been honed over decades of service are invaluable - so we share speech notes (not this one, sorry darling!), chat through issues our patronages may be tackling, and together I think we make quite a good team.

Like an iceberg, what is seen above the water or in public is only a small proportion of what goes on behind the scenes. What is never seen or can ever be quantified is the effort spent on ensuring good governance for his patronages, encouraging people to support worthwhile causes, chairing committees, meeting chief executives and think tanks, writing papers, speeches, forewords, introductions, the list goes on.

But whatever he is doing he gives 150% of himself, and if all else fails he gives any energy he has left out to our exhausted dogs or laying waste to the garden. Like my father-in-law, my husband never seeks compliments for himself. So when acknowledgment has come his way it has always been a total surprise to him, which is why I am grateful for this chance to, for once, be able to publicly celebrate and compliment him.

He was so happy and humbled when Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth made him a Knight of The Garter in 2006 and was equally delighted and moved the day His Majesty The King – who we are both incredibly proud to support – made him Duke of Edinburgh. Both he deserves in equal measure and I am so proud of the man he is.

He is the best of fathers, the most loving of husbands and still is my best friend.

So here's to you my darling Edward and may I along with all your family and so many friends and many others wish you the Happiest of Birthdays!

#wessexes #sophie #prince edward #march 2024

85 notes · View notes

erraticpigeon · 1 year

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you could do reader x Finnick and the reader has to take care of a sick/hurt Finnick if not that’s comepletly fine!

i love love LOVE this, thank you for the request!! f!reader x finnick odair, tw for wound

finnick getting injured and confessing

"Are you crazy?! You can't run away alone like that, you could've gotten killed!"

Finnick winced as you pressed the wet cloth against the wound on his shin. Though the arena of the 75th annual Hunger Games was large, there was a major lack of things like medicine, bandages, or even supplies to clean wounds with, so you had to make do with a piece of fabric ripped from a sponsor parachute and water from a nearby stream.

You glanced up at Finnick's face, his expression twisted in pain and discomfort as you wiped as much dirt and blood from his leg as possible. He spoke through his teeth.

"It's fine, he's dead now anyway.."

"But not before he shot an arrow through your leg! Holy shit…"

You tried to keep your voice steady, but the panic must have seeped through because Finnick reached down and placed his hand against the side of your face, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He was the bravest and strongest person you knew, but you couldn't help but worry about him every time you were separated.

"The arrow didn't go through my leg. It barely touched me.."

You glared up at his sympathetic smile, his beautiful eyes meeting yours. You felt your face heating up and quickly looked back down at the wound.

You were kneeling on the ground where he sat in front of you, his back against a tree as you cleaned the cut and whispered to him to keep him sane.

Suddenly, you both heard the sound of a twig breaking, and you shot up with your dagger in hand. Finnick tried to get up but you gently pushed him back down with your foot on his chest, placing a finger against your lips to tell him to be quiet.

You hid behind the tree as you started hearing heavy footsteps, quick and many, as if there were people running toward you. Your body and mind were both tense, fully preparing to be attacked by careers and to defend Finnick with your life, should it come to that.

Then, a familiar voice started to ring through the forest, shouting familiar names.

"Y/N! Finnick!! Where are you guys!?"

Johanna. You left your hiding spot and almost collapsed in relief when she appeared behind a tree. Her movements and eyes were erratic as she searched her surroundings. When she finally spotted you, she shouted your name as she ran toward you. Katniss, Peeta, and the rest of the alliance appeared behind her, all relieved to have found you.

As Johanna reached you, you threw yourself into her arms with tears streaming down your face. The embrace was heartfelt, but short as you both pulled away.

"We got a package with medicine and a note from Haymitch saying that Finnick was hurt and we needed to find you and-"

"Where is the medicine!?"

"Katniss has it."

Five minutes of deafening silence passed as the group watched you apply the medicine to Finnick’s wound and wrap his leg with a clean piece of the parachute. When you were finished, you sat down next to him with your back against the tree and your head leaning on his shoulder.

The others dispersed and started setting up a temporary camp for the night, as you two sat and relished in each other's silent company. Finnick was the first to speak, and even then it was barely audible.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I'm sorry I left and got hurt, and I'm sorry I made you worry about me. I know you're angry, and I understand why."

"Angry? I'm not angry."

You looked over at him and your eyes met, as he looked at you curiously.

"But.."

"Finnick, I thought you were going to die... I wasn't angry, I was scared for your life because I love you so much, and-"

You were interrupted in your confession by him leaning in toward you and kissing you. His lips were chapped but still so sweet, his golden hair brushing against your forehead as his hands held the sides of your face with utmost care and adoration.

The kiss was broken, and he tried to hide his big grin as he spoke.

"And to think, all I had to do was get shot in the leg.."

You shoved him away from you as he laughed. The playful sound sent ripples of glimmering gold through your nerves, brightening the terrible situation you found yourself in. Maybe being stuck in a dangerous fight to the death wasn't so bad, if it was with him.

Navigation

#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick odair drabble #hunger games #the hunger games #thg

286 notes · View notes

imaginespazzi · 2 months

Note

I've been letting your story marinate for a few days. Perfection as always.

I'm very interested in this timeline because Paige getting married after a year dating and Azzi being very pregnant got my braincells firing. And I wonder if one is an (in)direct result of the other. Sorry this is long but I had to write it out.

Feb 2033 - Present day, Stephie is 5. Paige and Azzi not really spoken in 8 years.

2030 - P and Olivia divorce.

September 2029 - Stephie about 18 months. Paige married. Found it interesting that Paige wears an engagement ring...

Jan/Feb 2028 - Stephie born.

December 2027 - Paige's wedding, very Azzi pregnant (the timeline is timelining for me around this). Paige and Olivia been dating 'barely a year.'

Early 2027ish - Azzi flies to Dallas sees Paige and Olivia together, leaves.

Late 2026 - P and Olivia start dating. Paige hid the relationship for the first few months.

May 2024 - End of school year, Paige going into her final season in 2024-2025, appears Azzi is planning on staying until 2026.

September 2017 - Baby Pazzi being adorkable

Other thoughts as I re-read hunting for clues.

I feel like when Azzi's not around and Stephie is over Katie and Tim talked about Paige, she seemed to know a lot about her beyond just seeing her play a handful of times.

The fracturing seemed to happen while still at UConn judging by comments by Jana/Ice. And it was clearly pretty bad from the way the UConn girlies still react to it.

As a side note I kinda don't blame Azzi for feeling so off kilter, Paige parachutes back into her life after barely speaking in a decade, and slides back into how she's so pretty and all this like she didn't have a whole ass WIFE in between. I'd also feel whiplash from it tbh.

Paige doing all those little things that aren't her for the wedding she so wants to love Olivia as much as Azzi but can't. Feels like a massive red flag to be thinking about the girl you wish you could have married on your wedding day.

8 years and it seems like Paige has no idea why Azzi said no?

Azzi feels so guilty but part of me thinks she had a reason that made sense at the time that Paige couldn't/wouldn't try to understand.

I have a partial theory but will save it so as not to put out any potential spoilers (not saying I'm super confident lol).

OMG babes you're pretty much spot on with your timelines. Here's my timeline (literally written on a sticky note on my laptop) for cross-reference (spoilers crossed out obvi)

Yes absolutely, Katie and Tim have definitely spoken about Paige in front of Stephie and especially since Stephie would be with them at Wings vs Valkyries games, they'd make sure she knew

Whiplash + residual guilt, like Azzi's definitely got some valid concerns at the moment

You know how Azzi has warning bells? Paige reeeeeally needs some of those or maybe she does have them, but when they were ringing like crazy on her wedding day, she did an incredible job of ignoring them

Paige and Azzi have had their moments over the course of 8 years but they've definitely never addressed anything they should...

OMG please send me your theory and add like a clue/emoji or something so I can confirm if you're close or not without posting it cause I really wanna hear it.

#ask #fic talk #would just like to add the disclaimer that the timeline is definitely susceptible to change lol

37 notes · View notes

tgmsunmontue · 8 months

Text

You need to learn how to fall 4/10

Hangster (and IceMav) - Bradley is too tall to be a naval aviator and instead becomes a sky diver, specialising in spin recovery. He is a civilian contractor to the Air Force and Navy to teach pilots how to survive parachute spins from ejections. A more in-depth version of this post.

PROLOGUE 2003-2006 2007-2010

2011-2015 – The later years

He’s approached about doing his doctorate and he does a double-take, reading through the email again. They’ll pay him a stipend, as well as his study costs, and his travel to a variety of free fall simulators around the world in order to carry out research. It seems too good to be true, so he reads through it carefully. And then again. It’s specifically for military freefall (MFF), which includes both high altitude low opening (HALO) and high altitude high opening (HAHO) operations. They’re versatile techniques used by Special Forces and Bradley is already familiar with the Free Fall Analysis and Simulation Tool (FAST). He’d be building on the work already undertaken, further developing understanding of dynamics of MFF and spin recovery.

Holy shit.

Holy.

Fucking.

Shit.

He prints it off the email and contract that came as an attachment and takes it to show Ice and Mav, wants them to look it over incase he’s missed something. Is quiet while they read through it, Ice reading over Mav’s shoulder.

“Do you want to go back and study?”

“I hadn’t thought about it to be honest. But this would be so cool…”

“It’s not here, but sounds like they’re flexible around location. And would pay for your travel and accommodation. This is a very generous offer…” Ice says, and his eyes are narrowed and he looks suspicious; Bradley knows then that he’s going to find a catch. He knew it was going to be too good to be true.

“Your name needs to stay on the research. Any papers they publish in the future, they need to reference you by your name, not the funder of the study. Add a clause that states until you have, say, twenty publications, you remain a key contributor.”

Bradley hadn’t thought that was a big deal, but he shrugs, guesses Ice knows better than him.

“That’s assuming you want to go into research and doing this for something other than just… for the fun of it?” Ice says, his tone shifting and Bradley realizes that he was maybe reading it as if he himself was going to do it and why would Ice want to be involved… It’s then that he realizes that he could potentially save lives with research. Knowing how to fall out of plane, work a chute, get out of a spin fast, land. Those are all skills that you can learn, that’s he’s learnt, is busy perfecting and practicing as much as he can.

“Yeah. This would be great to do too.”

… … …

Tom stares at the press release, the word CONFIDENTIAL stamped through as a watermark. His hands shake a little before he catches it and stills them. He can marry Maverick. Don’t Ask Don’t Tell is being repealed. After tomorrow his proposal of a year and a half ago could actually mean a wedding. He doesn’t want a wedding, not really. What he wants is to be married to Pete, and not have his career suffer for it. Although he’s definitely decided to fuck off and leave the Navy if they have a problem with him and his life with Pete. There are some things more important than the Navy, and while it may have taken him a few years to realize it, his cancer had been a good reminder. He pushes back from his desk and goes to find the man in question, of course in the garage tinkering on the one bike Tom lets him keep at the house. If he didn’t place limits their place would resemble a junkyard.

“I love you…” he says, and it’s quiet words and Pete immediately looks to him, grinning and abandoning whatever it is he’s working on, wiping his hands on a rag and stepping in close.

“I love you too… what brought this on? Empty house?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, like Bradley being away somehow offers more freedom when he has a completely separate

“Hmm,” he hums, noncommittal. “If we could get married tomorrow what would you want?”

“Uh… what do you mean?”

“Lots of people? Us in our dress whites? Flowers? Big sit-down meal?” Tom asks, thinking about the weddings he’s been to.

“Uh… what? What’s wrong? Why are you asking me this? Ice? Tom…?”

He realizes then that Pete thinks that maybe the cancer is back and he shakes his head.

“I’m perfectly healthy, and I’ll prove it to you later. Just let me dream…”

“What would you want?”

“Just us and Bradley, maybe Slider and his family. Quiet and not a big fuss.”

“Yeah, that sounds perfect.”

… … …

His first time in a free fall simulator is fun for the novelty aspect. It’s nothing like actual skydiving but the amount of data they can collect is immense, and he gets to try out some risky moves he wouldn’t actually ever attempt in the air. It’s exhilarating when some of them pay off and sobering when they don’t. Working with people who find skydiving as exhilarating and as interesting as he does is a separate thrill and results in his first long-term serious relationship. She’s whip-crack smart, challenges his ideas and best of all she gets on with both Mav and Ice. When they end things after nearly three years they remain friends.

… … …

Pete watches Bradley walk across the stage to accept his doctorate and claps until his hands are red and painful. Grins at Ice, brushes his fingers over the platinum band on Ice’s ring finger in his silent way of saying I love you.

“Our son is a doctor of skydiving…”

“No. He has a doctorate in physics. There is a difference.”

“Doctor of skydiving sounds cooler…”

PROLOGUE TAKE 2 - 2016 onwards (NEXT PART)

#IceMav #Top Gun fanfic #Hangster #you need to learn how to fall

71 notes · View notes

acknowledgetheabsurd · 13 days

Text

Thank you for writing to me, my dearest love. I was not expecting any letters from you today, and my joy is complete. I have for the Negrins the deepest of gratitudes. That they came to the theater that night says a lot about their heart and intelligence. And to know that they are close to you consoles me a little for being so far away and so helpless to help you. Many people love you, you don't know that enough. But it is also because you deserve it. And it is always a great and secret joy for me to feel the affection and respect that you inspire. Take courage, my dear child, lean on all those who love you and let yourself go to whatever your heart dictates. There is a peace at the end of it all. A difficult and bitter peace, sometimes, but a peace.

When I return, I will try to weigh you down as little as possible but to stay close to you and help you. The weather is not so nice today, but it is mild. One by one the fruit trees burst out like white or pink parachutes. In the garden, the rosemary is already blooming. Blue irises, white daffodils, small fresh violets, there is an exquisite fragrance in the air. This morning, I drove a little in my car. The G[allimards] are leaving on Monday and, frankly, I am relieved. Their gentle and fierce selfishness, in some cases, is hard to bear. Don't worry. I'm taking care of myself and doing very well.

I love you and will always love you. We are united. I was thinking these days that nothing can dissolve this definitive association. Equally lucid, equally aware, capable of understanding everything and therefore to overcome everything, strong enough to live without illusions, and bound together, by the bonds of the earth, those of the intellect, of the heart and of the flesh, nothing can, I know, surprise us, nor separate us. What each one of us does in his work, his life, etc., he does not do it alone. A presence that he is the only one to feel the love accompanies him. At least, that's my feeling and I explain this kind of fatalistic certainty that I carry around in the middle of everything. Let it be so for you and we will be saved!

I have not worked well these days. My essay had progressed well, but I don't know if I'll finish it before I get back. Too bad, I will work a little more near you. My dear child, my sweet one, I kiss your dear painful eyes. The days go by that bring me closer to you. I love you and I wait for you. Watch over yourself and for the love of us, rest. Sleep as much as you can and don't forget when you wake up that the one who loves you more than life is thinking of you and cherishing you.

Albert Camus to Maria Casarès, Correspondance, February 23, 1950 [#210]

#albert camus #camus #absurd #absurdism #maria casares #correspondance #love letters #love #joy #gratitude #heart #peace #tress #flowers #united #bonds of the earth #flesh #cherish

20 notes · View notes

cheesecakeislazy · 2 months

Text

Disventure Camp All Stars Rewrite! Jakeden!

The Love I Didn’t Expect

Chapter One; Planes And Parachutes

“Is Everything Ready, Emily?”

“Oh Yeah!”

“Gather The Crew! It’s Time!”

“Welcome One And All To Disventure Camp All Stars! You Heard That Right! We’re Back With 18 Of Your Favorite, And Not-So-Favorite, Competitors! We Are Just About To Pick Them Up From All Across The World In This Private Jet. Once Everyone Is On Board, They Will Be Flown To Camp Tipiskaw Where They Will Spend The Next 8 Weeks! Two Years Have Passed Since Our First Season, And One Since Our Second. Imagine What Shenanigans Our Contestants Have Been Up To, Who Will Compete In Our Biggest Season Yet? And More Importantly, What The Hell Have They Been Doing This Whole Time? Find Out Right Here, Right Now On… DISVENTURE CAMP ALL STARS!!”

——————————————————————————————————

When Jake and Miriam got the notification that the two of them had been selected to be in All Stars, Jake was ecstatic. Maybe he finally had a chance to rekindle things with Tom! It’s been.. tough these past two years, Jakes feelings for Tom had.. well they certainly weren’t as strong as they used to be. Jake had been hoping that maybe him and Tom could talk it out and maybe.. just maybe.. get back together? Maybe Jake wasn’t useless.. maybe he wasn’t unloveable.. maybe Jake could find true love?

——————————————————————————————————

Aiden and James were always traveling ever since James won that million dollar prize, and it was amazing! Aiden loved to see places everywhere around the world that he honestly thought he’d never have the chance to see.. but.. something was off recently. Aiden loved visiting James’ family and spending time with him, so why did he feel so weird about James lately? They’ve been together for a whole year, traveling the world with each other, going on dates, and constantly posting each other on social media. Yet, a small part of Aiden told him that he wasn’t happy with James as he used to be. Aiden was so excited that he was accepted into All Stars. Maybe Aiden could have a chance to talk about everything that was going on little more privately to Lake? Aiden just… didn’t understand. James really was amazing! Great personality, amazing looks, the best partner anyone could ask for! So why did Aiden feel so.. awkward with James?

———————————————————————————————————

“We Are Currently In Ottawa, Canada To Pick Up Our First 5 Participants! Here Comes Our Favorite Granny And Grandson Duo, Jake And Miriam!! You Two Ready For All Stars?”

“Hi Kristal! You bet we’re excited! Right Miriam?” Jake really was excited about All Stars, not only could he see some familiar faces, but maybe he could actually win the million dollars this time! …and maybe something could happen with Tom…

“Absolutely! I’m ready to collect another million!”

“I Must Say, Miriam, I’m Surprised. Hasn’t It Been Two Years Since You’ve Played? Aren’t You Worried That Your Age Is Catching Up To You?”

“Bleegh! Nonsense!! I’ve heard it before when I first played, and look what happened! There is no age limit for adventure, Kristal.” Miriam smirked at Kristal as she spoke.

“Fair Enough. Come On In, Guys! The Fun Is Just Beginning..”

. . .

Jake and Miriam step up into the plane and take their seats.

“Hey Miriam, it’s not too late, you know? If you’re not sure about this, we can still leave.” Jake was worried that Miriams health issues might cause.. complications during the season. Jake cared a lot about Miriam, Jake wouldn’t.. handle it very well if anything bad happened to her.

“Of course I’m sure!”

“It’s just.. I’m worried..”

“Have you lost your damn mind?? I didn’t drag my geriatric ass all the way out here, just to turn back!!”

“Well.. Okay..” Jake loved Miriam’s sass, but that didn’t change the fact he was worried about Miriam.

——————————————————————————————————

When Hunter and Ally walked onto the private Jet, Jake didn’t acknowledge the couple very much. To be completely honest? He was jealous of the pair, Ally and Hunter had met during their season and actually managed to become a couple out of it.. unlike Tom and him.

Jake knew that it had been two whole years since he last saw Tom but- his thought was cut off when a figure stepped into the jet. It Was Tom. There he was! In the flesh!! Right there in front of Jake! And.. walking towards him? No no no! Jake wasn’t ready yet! He hasn’t practiced his lines or-!

“Uh.. Hey..?” Tom spoke to the found family duo, it was obvious that Tom hated his existence that very moment. He was cringing so hard that it looked as if the guy had drank spoiled milk.

Jake stared up at Tom, “Yeah, uh Hi?” There Tom was, in all of his himbo glory. ..wait, why wasn’t Jake getting butterflies? Tom was right in front of him! The man of his dreams! Why isn’t he nervous?? Or flustered?? Maybe even embarrassed???

“You know, Tom, you could have at least left a call.. a message maybe? Just to ask how we were, just one little message?” Miriam had that look on her face, that

‘I’m not mad, I’m disappointed’ face, it certainly wasn’t directed towards Jake and yet the blue-haired boy couldn’t help but feel ashamed as if he had done something to displease her.

“W-Well.. you guys know how it is! Cops are busy people! I just uhm.. got caught up with.. work?” Tom had a small bead of sweat trickle down the back of his neck as he spoke to the pair, geez.. Tom made such a mistake talking to them right now..

“A singular call or text doesn’t take any longer than 10 minutes. If that at all..” Miriam gave the taller man a small scowl.

“Uh.. well! I’ll uhm, talk to you guys later!!” Tom couldn’t handle the look on Miriam’s face anymore.. he just had to leave. He took one last glance at Jake, and then walked further into the plane and took his seat.

. . .

Around two? Maybe three hours had passed, when James and Aiden entered the jet. Jake’s eyes landed almost instantly on Aiden..

Aiden was taking a selfie with Lake and James, James and Lake looked over the moon to see each other, yet for some reason Aiden looked.. out of place? Maybe Jake was overthinking it.. he’s never even talked to Aiden before. But.. wow, Aiden was even prettier in person.. even prettier than To-

“I’m still waiting on an apology for almost leaving me to DIE!” Aiden’s voice broke Jake out of his trance, he was saying something to Riya.. what was he talking about? Oh! Right.. didn’t Riya almost kill the guy? Jake thought that he definitely didn’t wanna get on Riya’s bad side..

Jake watched as Aiden and James sat next to each other, James was playing on his phone and talking to Lake. While Aiden stared out the plane window and cloud gazed. Jake couldn’t help but.. relate to Aiden? Jake didn’t really understand why he related to Aiden of all people. Aiden was lucky, just like Ally, he got the love of his life out of this show and they look so.. loving on James’ instagram posts. They certainly don’t look that loving in real life though.. maybe Aiden was just in a bad mood? Ugh, why did Jake care. He doesn’t know these people personally! Jake just needs to worry about his own problems..

———————————————————————————————————

Aiden looked out the window as he listened to Lake and James converse with each other, Aiden was lost in his thoughts. So.. many.. confusing.. thoughts. That photo with Lake that they all took? It felt weird. Aiden didn’t understand, everything flowed so perfectly between the trio when they were all friends, and they still were friends! Well, technically him and James were dating but that couldn’t be the issue! Why would something so minor make such a drastic difference in a dynamic? Aiden really hoped that Lake would be on the same team as him, he loved James but he needed to talk to Lake alone, without the worry of James interrupting. He.. loved.. James.. why did those words seem so uncomfortable to Aiden now? A year ago those words were filled with confidence and truth, so why did it feel so fake now? Lake wrote romance novels.. maybe she knows a thing or two about this mess?

As Aiden stared out the window, his mind drifted to other places, right after James took the selfie Aiden’s eyes drifted towards the back of the plane and had spotted Jake. No.. way.. Jake Hamilton?? This was a dream come true!! Aiden loved Jake in season one! He was honestly a little upset that Jake didn’t win, but hey- at least Miriam won and helped Jake out. Wow.. Jake was such a pretty guy.

“Aiden, baby?” James spoke up to Aiden, snapping him out of his thoughts. What was.. Aiden thinking about..?

. . .

Welp, coming here was a mistake! JUMPING OUT OF A FUCKING PLANE? Listen, Aiden might have gotten a lot better about his fear of heights, BUT JUMPING OUT OF A FUCKING PLANE?? Yeah.. no. This was such a terrible goddamn decision.

As Aiden held tightly onto his parachute bag, he stared down into the clouds and sky.. no.. he couldn’t do this!! There’s no way he cou-

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-“ Aiden was pushed by who he assumed was Riya, that fucking bitch..

This season.. is going to be such a goddamn mess.

25 notes · View notes

lizzie-is-here · 1 year

Text

lonely is a man without love

part iv- the hunt

“the moon in me finds the sky in you” - dikshasuman

summary: you and steven do a little bit of grave robbing. oh yeah, marc’s there too.

wordcount: 3.6k

warnings: language, violence, red room talk, idk

a/n: yall i’m so sorry i dropped off the planet for a bit 💀 there’s been a lot going on like i’m in a situationship now w a friend from high school who moved to my college this semester, i finished my finals early, i see taylor swift tomorrow, i’m back home, but ANYWAY i hope y’all enjoy and pls forgive me ik it’s been 3 weeks 😭 love y’all

taglist: @thefictionalgemini @ravenz-hope @undiscl0sed-d3sir3s @iateall-yourcookies @disregardedplant @sunflowers-4 @yellowumbrelllaaaa @bagsy-not-it @local-mr-frog @thescarletredwitch @jupitersmoon167 @creamecafe @stevenknightmarc @theluciansystem @kingtwhiddleston @spider-biter @mxltifxnd0m @sgt-morgan @no-dont-be-suspicious @onzayhe @namorslit @i-cant-write-for-shit @vainillasmil157 @doublevirgogirl

previous part | series masterlist | next part

Hijacking a car is the easiest part.

Driving with a pounding headache isn’t that bad either.

On the other hand, watching Marc fling off his shirt is very hard.

“How did Harrow know those things about me?” you ask, averting your eyes back to the road. “He saw right through me.”

“He’s just trying to mess with you. You know, he’s trying to get in your mind,” Marc says. “No, don’t let him do that. He’s got this idea that he can see the ‘true nature’ of people or some baloney like that.”

He starts putting on a new shirt, and you can’t help but feel a little disappointed as he continues. “If that were true, I don’t think he’d have a bunch of homicidal maniacs as his disciples, would he?”

You tap the steering wheel. “But he knew.”

Marc’s face twists with sympathy. “I know.” He raises a hand to pat your shoulder, but he thinks twice and sets it on the headrest instead. “But he’s just manipulating you. Weaponizing your past.”

You glance at his hand.

“… You can touch me, you know?” It comes out a bit awkward, but meaningful nonetheless.

He gives you a small smile and rests it on your shoulder, a light chill going up your body. You didn’t receive a friendly touch in your life until the Red Room fell, and the first time Nat hugged you after a team dinner you had sobbed your heart out.

It had become your love language, in a way. You may be picky with who touches you, but every passing graze means the world.

And the weight of his hand grounding you feels nice. So you sniffle a bit before nodding sharply.

“Thank you.” Marc doesn’t take his hand back. You don’t want him to. “What did he tell you? I kind of zoned out.”

He shrugs and begins working a knot in your shoulder. “Nothing much. ‘You’re unlovable’ and ‘You’re a monster’. It’s all the same with him.”

You can hear the underlying hurt in his tone, but don’t bring it up.

After a few seconds, you pipe up, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Have I told you about the time I jumped off the collapsing sky base for the Red Room without a parachute?”

———————————————————————

Pulling off into some sand dunes, you drive across the sandy terrain in hopes of finding a place to put this tattered cloth together.

Under the light from the headlights, you and Marc lay out the fabric on the hood of the car and start trying to piece it together.

“Try that,” he says, passing you a triangle.

Working in tandem, you make little progress. It’s like a puzzle with no directions. It’s frustrating to come to so many dead ends, and it’s starting to grate on Marc.

“I’m not getting any whole constellations, it’s just little pieces and fragments.” He slams his hands on the car and walks to the side.

“Marc,” you begin cautiously. “I think we may need Steven. I know you don’t want to, but he understands all of this. We need to give him a shot or we’ll be out here all night.”

Suddenly atop the car, Khonshu chuckles. “I summon the gods, you summon the worm. He won’t return the body.”

“Why do you feel the need to do that?” you grumble, heart rate slowing after the bird practically jumpscared you.

Marc grabs the side mirror before ripping it off and gathering the strips of cloth.

“What is it with you and mirrors?” you ask.

He pauses his irritated work and points to the broken mirror.

“I see Steven in reflections. Figure he’ll be happy about this.” He holds up the cloth.

Sighing, he walks away. “Alright,” he says. “Go ahead. You’re in.”

You can see the change before you hear the British accent.

Steven crouches down in the sand, ripping tape and assembling the scraps faster than you or Marc ever could have. You step closer, unsure of how he feels about you. You did lie about your job to him.

“Steven?” you ask, sitting down next to him. He looks up, momentarily taken aback. He stares for a bit, different from Marc’s half-lidded gaze. His eyes are wide, taking in every detail.

Well, every detail of you. But you don’t know that.

“Egyptians invented modern navigation,” he explains. “There’s not a lot of landmarks in the desert. So, they came up with a way to get about using the sun and stars. It’s bloody genius, innit?”

He holds up his work. A star.

You carefully take it, marveling at the cohesive map.

“Oh, woah, that’s amazing.” Steven blushes a bit at your words, but it goes unseen in the dark. “What do we do with it?”

“Well, I’m not sure, but if… Oh wait, hang on a minute.” He holds it up to the light. “You see that? You see those little pinpricks there? That’s a constellation.”

You nod. “Orion. We should be able to triangulate the stars into coordinates, right? Let me scan it.” With your phone, you pass over the star, letting it pick up the image.

“Well, um, actually… Unfortunately, it’s not that simple.” That much is revealed when nothing turns up. “Yeah, you see, Senfu marked that tomb, like 2,00 years ago. And stars drift over time. Not much as far as stars go, but it could mean the difference between us searching miles away from where we’re supposed to be looking.”

You pick up his insinuation. “So unless we know what the sky looked like on that date…”

“We’re buggered,” Steven finishes.

The god appears ahead of you, a warning before he speaks. “I remember that night. I remember every night.”

When he makes no movement, you and Steven begrudgingly head up the dune to meet him.

“I can turn back the night sky, but it will come at a cost.”

“Doesn’t it always,” you sigh.

He nods to Steven. “I cannot do it alone. Steven, when the gods imprison me, tell Marc to free me.”

Steven is wrapped in the same suit from before a few seconds later, eyes glowing. As the god raises his hand, he begins swiping it through the air. Steven mimics Khonshu’s motions, and before long, you gasp aloud.

The sky is spinning, whirling past as trails of stars blur together. The moon is little but glowing white dots, rapidly switching phases.

You’ve never seen something so beautiful.

“This is the night,” Khonshu says as the spinning stops, freezing the spiraling constellations on the night you were looking for.

“This is surprisingly painful,” Steven shouts.

You hurry to grab your phone, scanning the stars.

“I know, I’m sorry! But it’s working,” you call.

Khonshu collapses to his knees as Steven says, “I can feel my energy leaving me.” The head cover disappears as he loses control of the night sky. He reaches up again, holding it long enough for you to finish scanning.

“I got it! 29 degrees north, 25 east.” Steven collapses, and you tuck your phone away to hold him.

He crawls to you, coughing and trying to control his racing breaths. You help him stand, but it doesn’t do much. He faints as soon as you let go, falling face-first on the sand.

“Steven!” you shout.

“Hey, Steven?” No response. “Marc? Come on, idiots. Where are you? Marc, come on.”

You keep trying until you give up and start dragging the poor man across the sand, but it doesn’t last for long.

Headlights blind you as a car speeds toward the two of you. Shortly followed by gunfire.

“Shit, why do you have to be so heavy?” you grunt. “Oh my god, fine.” Reaching the top, you toss the body over the hill rather unceremoniously, racing down and hopping in the car.

The other car circles you as you duck down, grabbing any weapons you can find. The men step out and start inspecting Steven/Marc, and you take the opportunity to sneak out.

Striking up a flare, the red glow immediately catches their attention.

You hear them yelling before they make a sharp turn and start shooting again. You drop the flare and run around the other side, readying another.

Just as the truck pulls to a stop by the van, you run out, tossing the flaming signal onto the top of the bed, where there was plenty of ammunition just waiting to be exploded. It doesn’t take long for the fuse to spark.

It’s safe to say that you receive a small firework show, and both bodies tumble out with no sign of getting back up anytime soon. If at all.

When you turn around, you immediately shriek.

“OH MY GOD!”

Steven stares back at you, now completely fine and a bit confused.

“…What?” he asks.

You shove him lightly. “Don’t scare me like that, Иисус Христос [Jesus Christ]. I could’ve thrown a flare at you.”

Steven meekly apologizes and your anger dissipates, so you wave to the car.

“C’mon. We’d better get going if we’re going to catch up to Harrow.”

———————————————————————

By the time you’re almost at the tomb, the sun has begun to rise.

“We can’t lose more time,” you grumble finally, breaking the silence. “Harrow must be headed back to this tomb.”

You bite your lip, weighing your words on your tongue. “Listen, if he’s there, we’ll need Marc.”

“No,” Steven says.

You blink. “No?”

He shakes his head. “No. See, the thing is, we made a deal, Marc and I, that when he was done with Khonshu, he would disappear for good.”

Steven glances to the mirror where you figure Marc is yelling at him.

‘But that deal didn’t involve you getting (Y/N) and us killed. That’s not gonna fly with me.’

“You made a deal?” you ask, unaware of the words of the other alter. “That he would just, never come back? Never eat, sleep, live? I understand this is a complicated situation, but both of you belong in your body equally. Besides, that would mean he would also completely disappear from my life.” You add the last bit much quieter.

“What do you mean?”

You hesitate, gripping the wheel. “Yeah, well, the guy’s kinda grown on me. Both of you have.”

‘Steven, you’re gonna make her upset, stop. Give me the body.’

“Even if he would want to ‘lone wolf’ this whole thing,” you continue, waving your hand. “I’ve been there before, and I’m not going to let you dive into a suicide mission alone.”

Ignoring the frustrated man in the mirror, Steven nods. “Yep, it’s just you and me, and the open road.” You brake hard, stifling your amusement as he jolts forward.

“We’re gonna go on foot,” you say, more of an order than a suggestion. He agrees readily, and both of you trek through the narrow path to your destination.

The shadows are a welcome relief from the heat, yet every sound has you tense. Every bit of movement could be a sniper. Every crevice could hide a hitman.

“There.” You point down to a camp. “It looks like they’re already inside, so we need to find another way to beat them to- What’s its name?”

“Uh, Ammit. She eats dead people’s souls.”

“Great. Let’s check the camp.”

Steven heads into a tent, rifling through the belongings. It’s going well, at least until a glass table reflects Marc instead of himself.

‘You look scared.’

“I’m not.”

‘You should be.’ Marc gives a wry grin that’s barely visible on the glass. ‘Without Khonshu, there’s no more suit, no more healing, no more power.’

Steven shines a flashlight directly into his eyes and blinks away the dancing spots. “Yeah, and no more you. I thought. It’s what you said, innit? But believing anything that comes out of your mouth just shows what a plonker I am.”

‘Look, I wish I could just disappear, I really do. But unfortunately, I’m still here. If you’re gonna go through with this, you gotta be smart.’ Marc hesitates a bit. ‘For (Y/N)’s sake. I’ve been in situations like this before.’

Steven shrugs. “So have I. It’s the same body, innit? It’s in there somewhere. Muscle memory and all that.” Marc rolls his eyes from the desk.

‘Yeah, I’m not sure it works that way. Just-’

“Oh, whatever,” Steven huffs, cutting him off.

‘I’m here,’ Marc calls, voice permanently in Steven’s head, even as he tries to walk away. ‘You’re not alone.’

“I know I’m not alone! I know I’m bloody not alone, I’ve got (Y/N). She’s got my back.”

Marc’s snide response shocks both of them. ‘Oh, are you in love?’ he calls. ‘You’re gonna get all of us killed.’

“And you don’t love her?” Steven snaps back, stomping down his flustered-ness to prod at the other man. “Look, I appreciate your concern, mate, I really do. But we’ve got it from here.”

As he eagerly hurries out of the tent, Marc yells from a mirror.

‘If you touch her, I swear to you, Steven. I swear, I’ll throw us off a cliff!’

Meanwhile, searching the camp, you freeze when something catches your eye. A bloodied tool, but not something modern. It’s old as fuck, from what you can tell. But the blood is fresh. Like someone stole this from the tomb and stabbed the nearest person with little regard to the trail they’d leave.

Blood covers the nearby crates. Only more reason to get out of the open.

Charging up your Widow Bites, you head to the entry point where Steven is waiting. You quickly start putting on his harness, trying to ignore how close you are by constantly glancing over your shoulder.

“I have to say, I feel like I’ve been waiting for this my whole life,” he excitedly whispers. “The adventure, I mean.” Not surprising. His love for Egyptology makes this basically the most dangerous yet exciting field study ever.

You smile. “Yeah. We want what we’ve never had.” Tightening the buckles, you can’t help but notice his breath ghosting over your cheek. “You know, family, freedom. Relationships…”

There’s a moment of connection. Your eyes meet and you don’t look away.

He’d be really easy to kiss. You know he would be. And a part of you really wants to. But not right now.

You cough a bit and look away, grabbing some gloves as you clip his harness on the rope.

“I will go down first,” you manage, voice quieter than usual. “Before I belay.”

“Yeah, of course,” Steven says. “What’s belay?”

You chuckle and wordlessly drop, reaching the bottom with little issue. What you don’t see is Marc summoning enough control to punch Steven directly in the face, partially for almost kissing you and partially for not doing it.

Underground, the oppressive heat finally relents and you let out a puff of air.

Grabbing your flashlight, you scan the room and run a finger along the dirt atop the sphinx hidden in the dark.

Before you know it, you’ve traced the signature hourglass of the Red Room.

“Shit,” you whisper. Before you can focus on it for too long, shouting from behind you causes you to whip around.

Steven tumbles down the entrance, falling flat on his back with a grunt. You help him up, dusting him off a bit.

“There you go,” you chuckle.

He blushes a bit. “I kinda wish you hadn’t seen that.” You shrug, smiling.

He glances up, eyes widening. “Oh, wow, look at you…” It’s your turn to blush now, almost giggling at the feeling in your chest before you notice that he’s looking at the sphinx, not you.

“Oh, yeah. They really are… gorgeous, aren’t they?” You’re staring at Steven as you speak. “They’re just, they’ve been standing guard for centuries.”

He nods excitedly. “Right! Look, I just- If they sprang to life right now and asked me a riddle for passage, I’d be thrilled. I’d shit myself,” he adds, “but I’d be thrilled.”

“Did… did you do this?” Steven asks, pointing to the hourglass drawing.

Reluctantly, you nod.

“Force of habit… the… The Red Room protocol was to leave the emblem wherever we went. A subtle reminder that Dreykov’s power went beyond borders.” You gesture to the symbol. “A reminder that he was all-powerful.”

You chuckle ruefully, pointing to the symbol. “Even without the pheromone lock, without his agents, he’s still controlling me.”

Steven notices the way you’re voice has quieted, how your usually-relaxed posture has slumped in on itself.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, as if the stone sphinx can hear him.

In an instant, you’re brushing it off.

“Yeah. No, it’s fine, really,” you say, confident once more and hurriedly striding down the dark hallway.

The path twists and turns, disorienting you until you freeze in a small room.

“It’s a maze,” you huff.

Steven can’t help his quip. “It’s a-maze-ing.”

“No,” you snort before pointing around. “Like, there are six paths.”

The man behind you starts muttering to himself as you scan the room. A familiar smell lingers in the air, one you would know anywhere, even if it is hidden by the smell of sand and dust.

Gunpowder.

A few bullet shells lie in the sand.

“What were they shooting at?” you whisper. No one else should be here except Harrow’s dig team.

Steven begins tracing on the center table, much like you had. When you notice a shape forming, you step closer to inspect it.

“This whole structure is the Eye of Horus,” he says. “Look at that. It’s the royal symbol, protection in the afterlife.”

You nod, keeping up with the research you’d done. “But, the resources needed…” The epiphany hits you. “Ammit’s final avatar was a pharaoh.”

“Woah, a bloody pharaoh,” Steven gasps.

“So, do you think this is a map?” you ask, not wanting to disturb the drawing.

“Right. The Eye of Horus is also the eye of the mind, yeah? Representing the six senses, six points. The eyebrow denotes thoughts. Pupil, sight, obviously.”

He continues pointing about the shape. “This point here is, uh, hearing. Smell, touch. And this long line ending in a spiral, is the tongue.”

“An avatar would be Ammit’s voice,” you mutter.

Both of you turn to the corresponding tunnel at once, heading down it together. It ends in an open room, still very musty smelling but less claustrophobic than the previous areas.

You explore for only a few seconds before Steven’s gagging.

“Oh my- Oh my god, is that fresh blood?” he manages. “Isn’t that little chunks of meaty bits?”

You nod in affirmation, really hoping he doesn’t hurl. That’s when you notice canopic jars, very full of organs and coated in very fresh blood. It hasn’t even crusted.

Another bloodied tool lies on the operating table.

You’d read about doctors and sorcerers buried with a pharaoh to protect him from intruders, but this? Checking down the exit hallway, you only see a thick trail of blood.

“Okay, okay,” you hiss, glancing up to the secondary level. “Steven, there might be a way out up there, go check.”

He clambers up with a bit of help from you, wood creaking and echoing around the stone walls.

“So, according to the ancient texts, Ammit should be bound to an ushabti, a little stone statue thingy.” You let him geek out a bit before gunfire stops your heart right in its tracks.

“Harrow,” you say, just loud enough for Steven to hear.

“What are they shooting at?”

You don’t have time to respond when a sickening clicking sound comes from right outside the door.

“Hide. Hide,” Steven calls.

With nowhere to go, you duck down by the table.

The clicking grows ever closer until you spot something, mangled and grotesque, tossing a barely-alive digger onto the stone surface.

The stabbing and squelching sound that follows is enough for you to know that some more jars are about to be filled.

In all honesty, you’ve heard worse, so you silently exhale and try to stay as still as possible.

That plan gets shot the moment you shift and bump a jar.

Wincing, you silently shift away from the table, steadying your breathing as the clicking grows more aggressive. From Steven’s hiding spot, a loud creak rises up and the creature -whatever is it is- jumps atop the table to search for the source of the sound.

You can hear it start climbing the wall, fighting to get to Steven. And that just won’t do.

With a click of a button, you fire off an electrical blast from your gauntlets. It stuns the mummified man, who falls to the table.

Steven shouts with a force you’ve never heard from him and topples a shelf, effectively crushing it.

“I squished it. I squished it,” he whispers.

“Yes,” you say, forcing an encouraging tone. “You definitely squished it, now come on.”

He clambers down the ledge with no semblance of grace, and you take his hand, rushing through the hallway to want you hope will be your destination.

As you’re stepping across shattered stones, a grin finally forms on your face.

This is it. The walls are lined with hieroglyphs, gilded statues line the chamber.

And a sarcophagus lies in the center, water surrounding it.

“Oh, my days,” Steven whispers. “First ones in. Tomb fit for a pharaoh. Thutmose II, Nefertiti, it’s gotta be one of the big ones.”

You point to the sarcophagus, eyes narrowing.

“Steven?”

“Yeah?”

“Those aren’t hieroglyphs. That’s…”

You speak at the same time. “Macedonian.”

He mutters to himself, inspecting the writing. Thoughts spilling out as his mouth races to keep up with his mind.

“I think we’re looking at the long-lost tomb of Alexander the Great,” he concludes. You understand why he’s excited, but a part of you also knows that now is not the time. Not when you’re in a time crunch.

Setting your hands on the lid, you nod for Steven to join you.

“Everything inside me is, like, screaming not to open this thing,” he says nervously.

“Well, it’s either us or Harrow. Your pick.” You know it’s a bit unfair, but it works.

He sets his hands by yours, bracing himself.

You raise a brow. “You ready?”

“Yeah.”

#marvel #marvel x reader #x reader #avengers #moon knight system #moon knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight tv #moon knight x fem!reader #moon boys #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #steven grant #steven grant x fem!reader #steven grant moon knight #marc spector x reader #marc spector #marc spector x fem!reader #marc spector moon knight

226 notes · View notes

osamucide · 9 months

Text

love/paranoia

i've heard those words before

wc: 1.6k

cw: drug use (xanax, ecstacy), bonten!sanzu, gn!reader, angst and fluff, mentions of sex, side effects of drug use including but not limited to vomiting/nightmares/irritability/memory loss, soft sanzu

reid: another one with a lot of projection regarding drugs. not intended to romanticize substance abuse. dont do drugs please. no explicit sexual content in this one i guess but i'd still prefer mdni thank u enjoy

. . . .ᐟ

He insisted that rolling would help it, and before you could oppose the intake of another substance, he revealed he’d already cut up a whole capsule and parachuted it before he drove back. You wanted so badly to cry and scream and hold onto him to make him feel how intensely you were trembling, but it wasn’t like he’d be receptive enough to an outburst to learn from it anyway, so you didn’t bother. Also too was the soft, sudden stillness of his restless eyes as soon as yours started to glaze over with tears (you hated when he drove fucked up). Gentleness never escaped his hands when he held you, no matter how high he was – maybe this was an indication that you were too docile, too understanding, maybe even enabling of his habits – but you never let his capability slip your mind. How exhausting it sometimes was to love someone who, no matter how receptive to your emotions, might become unpredictably far away from you, just for a bar or two. Instead of pushing him away or looking at him with misplaced disappointment, though, you brushed his pink bangs out of his eyes and led him to the couch, working him out of his dress shirt and belt along the way. After all, you knew better than anyone around him (not saying much) that recovery was not linear.

Cherry blossom locks now tucked into your neck, you stroked his face and willed him to relax the muscles in his jaw that clenched and unclenched against your shoulder. He whimpered every so often and seldom kept his legs still, probably not consciously. The conversation that was to follow in the morning probably would not be any easier than if it took place now because the it he was trying to help was the month-long Xanax bender he’d been on; even when he was sober, he was making an effort to focus on anything other than whatever physical side effect was fighting relentlessly for his attention, whether it be a splitting headache, curdling nausea, or auditory hallucinations that he could no longer distinguish as results of whatever he’d fed himself or the erratic loss of sleep. Benzos sent him up so high that he couldn’t really even recall how they made him feel. He knew two things: that the crippling emptiness was gone when he was up there, and that his being up there rapid-fired bullets through your heart. A third thing, perhaps: if you loved him any less, you’d be gone.

There were still glimpses of Haruchiyo, no matter how high or low. Haruchiyo, ever the chaser of extremes. Haruchiyo and his unwavering loyalty. Haruchiyo and his promise to himself that he would never, ever harm you. Not intentionally, of course. And yet, it would still be hard. He would still cry and bicker and argue, even in the closest thing to a right state of mind he could achieve. He would still lock himself in the bathroom (which you had emptied of everything down to the gummy vitamins) because he couldn’t deal with it. He would still complain when you’d pat his clothes down before he’d go out, both of you knowing damn well he’d score something, anything while he was gone. But he’d never tell you to stop. He’d never get physical with you like he did the rats and snakes and opposers of the syndicate or anyone who wasn’t you or the king who dared to get within a foot of him, really. He could be violently passionate without drugs; it was just a matter of which way he wanted to lose his grip on sanity, fry his brain. Sink into the mental of a cold-hearted murderer, or become a bioweapon against his own body and mind? Perhaps, he thought during fleeting moments of clarity before he’d wonder who he could hit up next, he was worse than both and always would be, even if he got clean, because he let himself slip to the point where both were very viable, uncomfortably pressing futures. Maybe they were realities already, and it was only a matter of time before they caught up to him in his muddled awareness and swallowed him whole. In an ideal world, he’d be able to leave Mikey and the rest of them to burn and go kill himself with you using nothing but red wine and the adoration that burned between the two of you. His penchant for destruction terrified him; you were the only thing he’d ever touched without yet ruining completely. The thought that you might be scared of him too was what made him want out; if only it were that easy to just do. You weren’t blind to this, having stood witness to the cracks in his mask, and each time they split a little further, and that was why you did your best to understand his rationale for popping molly to counteract the benzo hangover.

There was a glimpse of Haruchiyo in the way he clawed for your hand that rested on his cheek. In the way he shoved his lips to your palm. In the way he mumbled something largely incoherent into it (something he did long before he started using). (You caught “want you to know” and “after today” and “love you very, very much”.) Regardless of the gravity of the situation or what he had coursing through his system, you’d always giggle into his hair and tell him you love him back.

He didn’t not want your love. He was pretty sure he needed it. He was not convinced he deserved it.

Not when you were holding his hair back as he vomited into the kitchen sink. Not when you were massaging the ache of pins and needles out of his limbs. Not when you were kissing the tear tracks off his face in the middle of the night to wake him up slowly but surely from the delirious night terrors he was having. He thanked whatever was conducting the universe that he was still rational enough to recognize how wonderful you were. He looked at you like you could soothe even the worst of all evils borne of human selfishness. Oh, you were so selfless for him. He hated it, he needed it, and it was undoubtedly the reason he was still alive.

“Haru,” wisped your voice into his ear, and if it was possible for him to sink further into you, he would’ve.

He hummed in response.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

But the drone and flicker of the television in the dark living room was at just the right amount of subdued to feel serene and he was so warm in your arms already, so why move? It's not like he'd even gotten home that long ago. The only other thing he hoped for was maybe that you’d fuck him; sex always felt otherworldly when he was rolling, and he knew the sounds you loved left his throat that much more languidly when he was on E. And then he could sleep off the comedown - it'd be perfect. It was these thoughts that let you shift him to his feet. Never at any point did he unravel himself from you, knees knocking into yours, arms clutched sweetly around whatever part of you he could get a hold on, cheek pressed to your head or face or shoulder or wherever you'd let him end up.

"'M'want you," Haruchiyo all but whined as you pulled a t-shirt over him and wiggled him out of his pants. The clock by the bed blinked half-past three am, so it was true he had indeed arrived back home over two hours ago. It was also true that ecstasy claimed his time in a different way than anything else. You didn't help. Every second he spent with you was too short. All too soon he'd have to leave again.

"You should sleep," you shushed him, gently dodging the wet kisses he attempted at the expanse of your neck as you leaned back down to hold him close. At least he was still upright. "You have work tomorrow."

"Don't care. 'Always get it done, don' I?" His voice was a little hoarse, his breath smelled vaguely of one of the Dunhill International Reds Ran always kept inside his jacket, and you could sense his pout from beneath your chin as his arms dangled loosely around you. "Wanna feel you."

"Tomorrow," you said with finality.

He groaned. His lips were still wandering, his tongue was still prodding at your jugular, but with notable laziness. The cooling distress in your system had exhausted you anyway, and he was not unfamiliar with the sensation of you seeping into him. So, he let you melt into him and push him back gently, not even toward the head of the bed. (He didn’t realize, of course; he was just happy to be laying under you as he rolled to a stop.)

Love you, love you, love you was pressed repeatedly into your skin with his slowing fingers. Love you would be all he could think to say when he'd find his way to the kitchen the next morning to see you sitting at the counter, carefully cutting up a bar into tiny pieces for him to gradually chase off the withdrawal. You were better rehab for him than any institution Kakucho could threaten to throw him in. As much as he knew you hated to watch him destroy himself, you understood. There was a glimpse of Haruchiyo when he scooted his chair impossibly close to yours just to lay his head on your shoulder.

"Don't even want any right now."

You smiled to yourself. You will soon. "I'm proud of you, my love." Yeah, he was going to get better for you. For you, for you, for you. You loved him so much it made him want to love himself.

#tokyo revengers x reader #sanzu x reader #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #tr x reader #tokyo rev x reader #with love—reid

65 notes · View notes

thatpodcastkid · 3 months

Text

Magnus Archives Relisten 21, MAG 21 Freefall

Tom Petty plays in the background as a man falls to his death

Is this too niche a joke? Not possible. MAG 21 analysis, spoilers ahead!

Facts: Statement of Moira Kelley, regarding the disappearance of her son Robert. Statement given October 20th, 2002.

Statement Notes: I have some friends with thrill seeking hobbies and I've really just been waiting for this to happen to one of them. RIP Robert Kelley but my bros are NOT built different and the sky will eat them.

The intensity of Robert's fear in this episode was so deep and profound. The way that he fell for so long that he actually wanted to hit the ground. The fact that he didn't open his parachute on time because he was so desperate to reach the ground faster. You were really able to experience and understand his emotions.

"The sky ate him" is usually the line that gets a lot of press in this episode, and for good reason. But the line that's always stuck with me is "Enjoy sky blue." It's only three words, but it says so much. The word "Enjoy" highlights the normalcy of life in the Magnus Archives universe. Rober is doing what he loves, he should be happy, he should enjoy the jump. But he won't. Fairchild won't let him. The horrors won't let him. The narrative won't let him.

But the second half of that sentence--"sky blue"--adds a whole other element. Syntactically speaking, Simon Fairchild presents it as a noun. It could be an activity or experience to Fairchild, like skydiving. It's something he does often, experiencing the thrill and horror of the fall by "sky bluing." It could be fun for him. Maybe if Robert had enjoyed the fall, Fairchild would have recruited him as an entity. It's not capitalized in the transcript, but because it is being spoken by Moira Kelley who lacks context, it's possible it is a proper noun. Could it be a place? An area the Fairchilds blip in out of and send hapless victims to, the same way the Lukases send people to the Lonely? Or is it a name? A living entity that got a taste of Robert on his first dive and decided to finish its meal on the hill?

The wind sfx in this episode is so great. I've been suspending my disbelief with the sound effects in the early episodes because I assumed they were mainly just to build ambiance for the listener, but they do have interesting implications for future episodes. If, in recording early statements, Jon begins experiencing/developing his Eye powers, then these effects (the wind in this ep, the heart beating with Julia Montauk, etc.) could be him "hearing" what the victims felt and experienced. He is looking through their eyes as he reads the statement.

Entity Alignment: Tom Petty continues playing quietly in the background

Really great Vast episode. I've never been particularly scared of heights, so I don't often find the vast episodes "scary," but I do find this one to be particularly unsettling and thrilling. The sky being presented as semi-sentient, with the ability to not only steal but eat a man makes the idea of falling through all the more terrifying.

When Moira Kelley began the statement, she explains that she "doesn't have the words" and doesn't know what to write. But of course, she explains everything in perfect detail anyway. By virtue of being in the Institute, she is compelled to tell her story. The Eye is urging her to relive the horror that she sold her home to escape. She says that "knowing won't bring him back," but the Institute doesn't care. It just wants more knowledge and fear to consume.

Character Notes: In MAG 111, Gerry explains that families are often just tools for avatars to ensure transfers of power and increase their own power. This vaguely seems to be what Fairchild is doing with Harriet, although less so. But I also wonder if the same can be said of the businesses that avatars and entities involve themselves in. According to Jon, Open Skydiving isn't a "real" company with any records, but it clearly has been operating for many years and people utilize its services. Similar circumstances seem to be true for the Magnus Institute, as well as Peter Lukas' real estate and shipping companies. They provide moderate services merely to provide funds and resources to avatars, while also functioning as mediums through which they can create more fear.

(Something something a company treating you like family means they want to use your success to increase their own status something something)

Slightly less relevant, but Robert says the jump was a charity event for Simon's deceased wife. I would love not only to know more about who Fairchild's wife was and how she died, but also what charity he could possibly be leaving any money to. "Defective parachutes for youth" "Old men against OSHA" "Wheelchair kitesurfing fund."

Slightly more relevant, but Martin!! He's back! Oh no!

The most important thing about Jon's reaction to Martin bursting in is when he shouts "What are these things?" Not only has he never seen the worms before, but he has no idea what they are. Even after reading Timothy Hodge's statement, he can't connect the worms he sees to Jane Prentiss. This is totally reasonable for any regular person, as he likely never expected to see the worms in person nor would expect Martin to burst in covered in them, but Jon isn't a regular person. At times, Elias has allowed Jon to make leaps in logic that lead him to the actual truth as a means of hiding his Eye powers. Elias wants Jon to know things he shouldn't, but only on his schedule. Jon needs to explore Prentiss more deeply so he will be marked for the ritual, so he's rationing information.

22 notes · View notes