#he is a gunner i can tell | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vxsellie · 1 month ago

Text

TO WASH ASHORE - E.W

pairing : pirate!ellie williams x siren!reader synopsis : ellie wakes on a remote island, delirious and hallucinating as she spots a sea creature watching her from in the sea, your sharp eyes tracing her every movement. already deeming herself to be losing her sanity, ellie sees no harm in calling you over. a/n : bare w me here guys idk what im doing, this idea is so random but im trying to do it justice at least ! MCD WARNING BTW wc : 4.3k

ellie williams has lived a life of barbarity and brutality, living among pirates as a woman in disguise. of course, nobody would allow a woman aboard a ship, not to even mention the ship of a notoriously infamous pirate renown for his perfection and flawlessness. so, her fellow crew members know her as eli. a man.

she'd been sailing in disguise for nigh a year now, growing close with the pirates and getting to know life at sea. she's even built quite a reputation for herself ⎯ elijah williams, cruel and callous. captain miller's golden boy.

"avast ye!" a barrelman calls out from the crow's nest.

those on deck turn their attention toward the man. ellie halts her work and lifts her head up toward where he sits, putting a hand to her forehead to block the sun from her eyes.

one of the gunners climbs the shrouds toward the barrelman, scaling the lines swiftly. he pauses when he reaches the top, the two men conversing for a short moment before the barrelman passes the gunner his spyglass. the gunner's eyes widen and he begins talking frantically to the barrelman, both unsure on what to do. ellie watches the exchange from the deck, highly invested in what got the men so worked up.

she hears footsteps approach her from behind and she turns around to face whoever it is that comes to her. captain miller. she instantly straightens her back, the quintessence of respect for the man of authority.

he waves a hand at her, "oh relax, williams. you haven't gotta act so on edge all the time."

"easy for you to say." she scoffs, deepening her voice an octave. "you ain't gotta change to be accepted. you're the captain, you can do whatever you damn well please 'n nobody can give you shit."

"i suppose," he agrees. he then turns the topic around, peering up at the men atop the crows nest. "what're they doin' up there?"

ellie shrugs, "i haven't a clue. seems troublesome, though."

miller hums in acknowledgment, staring up at the two men who grow more and more frantic with each passing second. they hand the spyglass to one another back and forth, taking turns looking through it and exclaiming things of nervosity. ellie follows their gazes, turning toward where they aim the glass.

there, in the distance, she can see the formation of clouds beginning to fester along the horizon. its barely noticeable from her place on the deck unless one knows what to look for. but, if she were up high, the sight of such a storm would likely terrify her.

"a storm." ellie says.

miller turns to look at her, a brow raised. "come again?"

"that's what they're lookin' at." she explains, meeting his gaze with her brow knitted. "a storm is brewin' out there and we're heading directly into it."

miller doesn't need any proof of this, believing ellie without hesitation. and, within mere minutes, of her declaration, he's appointed roles and tasks to each of the two hundred crew members aboard. gunners are tasked with moving the ballast and heavy barrels into the hull; the pilot is given a stern talking-to on how best to handle this situation; the riggers are told what to do and which lines to pull.

ellie, being the quartermaster, is tasked with keeping the crew at bay. miller tells her she needs to keep them calm and level-headed, give them hope and whatnot. she nods, hurrying to do just that.

as they near the looming clouds, the sea grows angered. waves come up over the taffrails, soaking into the floor of the deck. the winds pick up, forcing the riggers into action. she alternates between people, assuring them that they're doing well and they'll make it through this. however, as she watches the storm grow nearer, she isn't quite so sure of that herself.

she sees a group of brutes, standing around without a role yet. she approaches them with her hands on her hips and a hardened expression on her face. "the fuck are you doin'!? batten down the hatches!" she orders. instantly, the men rush into action, tying things down and putting things away for the coming weather.

ellie's heart beats frantically in her chest as rainfall begins to drench her. she pulls her hat farther over her face, making sure that her hair is all tucked away and her coat remains loose.

the sea grows in her rage, throwing massive waves over the bow. crew members begin to lose faith, their minds descending into despair. ellie tries to keep them at bay for the most part, but it's fruitless. their hopelessness is no longer malleable. she curses under her breath, knowing exactly why miller appointed her this role ⎯ if the pirates lose hope, they won't work as efficiently at their jobs. even if wreckage is inevitable, they'd at least have a chance.

she glances around, the gunners breathing quick as they shakily trek back and forth. the riggers grow fatigued in their mission of manning the sails, the pilot grips the wheel tightly but not confident enough. the ship teeters on the waves, thrashing around with each one.

"fuck," ellie mutters, wiping salt water from her eyes as she rushes to the helm. she ascends the stairs and approaches the pilot with as kind as gaze as she can muster whilst so irritated. "okay listen," she says, causing the pilot to turn to her with wide eyes.

"elijah?" the pilot questions, "what're ya doin' up here? go help the others."

"won't be able t' help the others if ya crash the ship." she points out. "move, let me steer."

the pilot appears reluctant, but eventually gives in and moves. ellie takes the wheel, flexing her fingers against the wooden material. the feel of the wheel in her hands is comforting, reminding her of how she first began as a pirate ⎯ a small pilot who blended into the background for months.

she tips her head at the pilot, wondering why the hell he's still standing there. "go help the gunners, tar."

"oh, uh⎯" he nods quickly, "yes, sir!"

with that, he scurries off to assist those in need. ellie watches from the helm as he bustles about, seeking out those who need an extra hand. once she's sure he's doing as he was told, she averts her attention back to the task at hand.

the waves are growing by the second, more and more water taken over the bow. a few of the swabbies dumping buckets of seawater overboard. she spins the wheel, hard. the ship swerves to the right, hitting the next comber at an angle. a few of the pirates stagger on their feet or fall over, but nobody falls overboard so ellie counts that as a win.

her change in angle allows the ship to take in far less water. the crew members will need to embrace their sea legs a bit more, but overall the damage is now far less. a few of the pirates whip their head in her direction, knowing their previous pilot would never have the balls to whip the wheel so hard. when they see ellie "elijah" at the helm, many of them seem relieved, knowing she's a great pilot. if anybody can aid them in survival, its her.

this goes on a few more times, yanking the wheel hard to the side as to avoid water filling the deck. but as time progresses and the rain refuses to die down, the amount of overtake grows unavoidable. by the fifth wave, the swabbies are forced to resume their buckets. by the eighth, more pirates rush to their aid.

ellie grits her teeth, mentally scolding herself for having not done more despite it being nigh impossible to avoid water overtake. she grips the wheel tightly, tossing the wheel to the side as the ship lurches in that direction. they hit the wave inelegantly, one of the riggers falling from a shroud and into the water with a deafening splash. she ignores it, unable to part her mind from the task at hand.

she hears footsteps bound up the stairs of the helm, rushing to her. she sideglances in their direction, not surprised to see captain miller approaching her.

"what're our chances?" he asks her, bracing a hand on the rail of the helm that overlooks the deck, having to grip onto it to avoid toppling over.

"of survival?" she asks, turning away from him and toward the next wave that rolls in their direction. "not lookin' too good, i'll tell ya that."

"give me a precent."

"about 18." she says with a sigh, the ship overtaking a huge amount of water from the bow, two swabbies getting washed away with the wave. she forces herself not to think about their deaths, tightening her grip on the wheel until her knuckles turn white.

"fuck that." miller declares. "we ain't dyin' out here."

"don't have much of a choice, i'm afraid." ellie tells him, yanking hard to the left, the wheel spinning out of control for a split second as the water catches control of the rudder. she fumbles to regain reign over it. once she does, her chest rises and falls with heavy breaths as she shoots miller a look. "i'm doin' everything i can, but i can't promise it'll be enough. this storm ain't relenting."

he narrows his eyes at her. "what's your name, williams?"

"excuse me?" she questions, momentarily caught off-guard.

"ya deem me fool, do ya?" he questions. "i know you're a woman. if we're all dyin' anyway, at least tell me your real name. you should be able to tell someone before your life ends."

"ellie." her chest feels heavy as she speaks her actual name for the first time in a year, throat feeling tight with the foreign sound of it on her tongue. she blinks water out of her eyes and she tells herself it's rain, though she's not entirely sure.

"well," miller says softly, nigh inaudible over the heavy rainfall pattering loudly against the sea around them, "it's nice t' meet ya, ellie williams."

she turns her head to face him, brow knitting. their eyes meet and she gives him a gentle smile, eternally grateful for his acceptance of her despite her year-long life of lies. apparently, that split moment of distraction is all it took for the storm to hit. while ellie's distracted by the unexpected turn of events miller voices, mother nature decides to attack while her guard is down.

a huge wave swells over the bow, water yanking the ship forward into the sea. ellie yelps as the wheel yanks from her hand, rudder being tugged by the sudden change. as the bow goes down under the surface, the stern goes up in the air. ellie's feet slip out from under her, her backside slamming against the vertical deck. miller's do the same.

as ellie slides downward toward the water below them, she feels a hand grab her by the wrist. she looks up, breathing hard. miller is still holding tightly onto the railing with his right hand, his left now holding ellie's entire weight.

the ship is vertically positioned, the bow slowly sinking into the aggravated sea as the stern is high in the air, teetering unnaturally.

she stares up at miller with wide eyes, her mind reeling at the sudden change in atmosphere. she'd told them they were likely to die, but she hadn't actually been ready to face death straight-on. the feel of powerlessness licks up her spine with a cold touch of dread and despair.

"ellie!" miller shouts, her attention snapping up to him. "i ain't lettin' ya go! don't lose⎯"

his words are cut off by a barrel coming down from the helm and hitting him in the head. the heavy weight of the wood knocks him out cold, his fingers going slack on the railing. they both instantly fall from the stern. she screams as she falls, sound interrupted as her body collides with the ocean. her throat burns, eyes stinging as she forces them to open in the water.

she looks around under the surface, ignoring the agonizing sting in her retinas. she's surrounded by wood and debris and fallen pirates. buts she's looking for one in particular. joel miller.

he's nowhere to be seen.

her heartbeat picks up, her lungs contracting with lack of oxygen. her mind begins to swim, unable to comprehend all that she's lost within a mere few seconds. she feels herself begin to sink as her eyes go dark, the weight of her body being dragged down by the merciless pull of gravitation.

she shuts her eyes, allowing the earth to pull her under the water and towards its core. consciousness plays with her, pulling her in and out of it. not a single coherent thought runs through her mind as she sinks down, down, down,

just as she comes to terms with death, shaking its hand and accepting its sudden control over her, something else grabs her other hand. something soft, a gentle caress of fingers wrapping around her wrist. life.

ellie's chest constricts as she shoots up, the feel of water in her lungs as she gags on it. the feel of pain welcomes her before the feel of relief does. her throat burns, her body is weak, her eyes sting. everything aches so very agonizingly that nothing else really matters to her.

she rolls over, getting on her hands and knees as she coughs and hacks water from deep within her chest. once she manages to level out her breathing enough to form an intelligible though, she realizes what she's on.

her fingers dig into soft sand, the sediment wedging under her nails. she lifts her head, eyes wide in shock. she's on an island, tiny enough she can see right across to the water on the other side. she looks around some more, taking in the scarce amount of shrub and grass.

she huffs out a laugh, disbelief and delirium encircling the sound as it slips past her split lips. the light chuckle soon turns into boisterous cackling, tears welling in her eyes as she realizes she's alive. she's breathing, feeling, living.

through blurred vision, she grazes her eyes across the island, once again taking in the beautiful sight of it. she leans back on her knees, sitting on her folded feet. here gaze suddenly snags on something lying a few feet from her. a body. she narrows her eyes, praying that this island isn't inhabited. but when she recognizes the shape of it, she instantly rushes to its side.

captain miller. joel.

she crouches beside him, turning him onto his backside. she leans down, pressing an ear to his mouth, desperation filling her up as she listens for any sign of life. then she hears it. breathing.

it's croaky and crackled, but breathing nonetheless. she straightens. he's alive. once he wakes, he'll cough a bit and be in indescribable pain, but he's alive. she moves him onto his side to avoid him choking on his own saliva, tipping his head into the sand a bit.

her mind is moving at a million thoughts per second, ellie can hardly keep up with her own brain. she leans back, staring at joel's head as she breathes heavily, trying to grasp what exactly has happened. only an hour ago, she was⎯ wait. how long ago was that? for all she knows it may have been days since the shipwreck. it may have been months. she looks at the sky, hoping to be able to tell time by it somehow.

the sky is clear, blue and brilliant without a cloud in sight. but her clothes are still wet and so are joel's. plus, she isn't starving to death yet, so she decides it's only been a few hours.

her mind races, suddenly stuttering on one thought in particular: who the fuck got them out of the water?

if it were another crew member, they'd be on the island with her and joel. if it were another ship crew, they'd be dead before they could reach the depth of which she'd sank by then.

she traces her eyes along the horizon regardless, hoping she might see a ship or something to point toward who's responsible for this. that's when she sees you.

her brows raise at the sight of a girl so far out in the surf, water up to your shoulders. your hair is wet, clinging to your neck and forehead. you aren't wearing a top, bare shoulders peeking from the surface.

ellie squints her eyes, wondering if she's going crazy or not. the heat is getting to her, clinging to the wet clothes that soak her skin. her hat is missing, auburn hair now askew atop her head. she puts a hand to her hairline, shielding sun from sight. sure enough, there you remain.

gorgeous and luminary in your presence, out there like a beacon of hope amid chaos. water droplets run down your face, sparking like fragmented glass across your skin.

"hey!" she calls out, unable to stop herself. "c'mere!"

you remain in place for a long moment, tilting your head at her slightly. she worries, for a second, whether you truly were imagined purely out of her mind. honestly, how could someone so beautiful be out here right now? in the middle of the ocean. just standing there. it's impossible.

just as doubt traces up her spine, you begin forward.

your movements are languid, almost like you're made of water yourself. the tangible embodiment of the sea, beautiful and mysterious just like the ocean. ellie finds herself unable to look away, a wordless spell cast to immobilize her.

you continue forward, bare chest veiled by your long wet hair. like a fish on a hook, ellie crawls toward you. her jaw is slackened, eyes sparkling. you keep most your body in the water as you near her, lower waist never breaking the surface. ellie doesn't give much thought to it, to enamored by the sight of you.

you stop at the waterline, lying on your stomach. you bury your elbows in the sand, resting your chin on the palms of your hands. ellie stops right in front of your, her eyes wide as they search your face.

"...beautiful..," is all ellie is capable of muttering. you tilt your head at her, slow and steady. she continues to stare at you, awe-struck. the smallest smile manages to tug at your lips and ellie finds her heart speeding at the mere sight of it. you shut your eyes, grinning at her.

"thank you." you say.

ellie's ears perk at the sound. your voice is music, tone a melody. she can't help but yearn for it to be played on loop. over and over until she takes her final breath.

"y-you⎯" words feel foreign in her mouth, nothing coming out correctly. she shakes her head, touches of crimson staining her cheeks. she blinks a few times as she refocuses on your face, taking in every feature that adorns it. "you're⎯"

"what?" you croon, a gentle hum from the back of your neck. she finds herself leaning in at the soft sound, needing to be closer. needing to hear you better. your eyes sparkle at the sight of her desperation, scooting farther back ever so slightly. "i'm what?"

a breath escapes her lips as she stares. "you're beautiful."

"mm," you sound, blinking at her slow and seductive. she falls for it. of course she does, they all do. that's your curse.

"how⎯" she blinks down at the sight of you in the water, having emerged from the surf all on your own. "how'd you⎯"

you tilt your head again, though this time for another reason. you do it as to move it out of her line of sight, allowing her eyes to rest on the tail that grows from your hips. it's about five feet in length, blue and shiny. the scales catch the light, glittering like magic. the fins are translucent, filtering sunlight through the thin material.

she stares at it, unable to tear her eyes away. whether that be to delirium or adoration, you're unsure. so is she.

"i saved you," you mutter, drawing her gaze back to your face. your brows are furrowed, sincerity knitting them with a thin thread of deception. she blinks, the threads blurring together into a gentle curiosity. she leans in again. you lean back. the palms of her hands are now in the water, encircling her wrists with rocking waves against the shore. she continues to crawl toward you. out of mere pity, you refrain from easing back more. it'd be too easy that way ⎯ killing a starved pirate who's been marooned.

"a-and joel?" she blinks, completely unaware of your moral dilemma. she's equally unaware of the way you had been slowly easing into the water. somehow, they never seem to feel the cool liquid around them.

"yes." you confirm, narrowing your eyes at the girl and her soaked form. "yes, i saved your old captain as well."

she exhales, enamored by the information. you take this time to soak in the sight of her. her hair is damp, short auburn strands clinging to her face and neck. her thin white linen shirt is clad against her torso and chest, buttons undone at the top. her heavy brown coat hangs off of her, clearly having been made for a man. her black jeans are baggy, also meant for a male. as are her oversized boots.

"thank you, i⎯" she stammers, licking her lips in thought. "i-i don't know how to⎯"

"hush," you whisper, voice tangling with the waves crashing against the sand. the melody is the same, sediment washing from the shore as ellie does. you lift your hands, cradling her face with cold, wet fingertips. she leans into the touch, her eyes lidded and pupils blown. your gaze softens, "you needn't thank me, love."

"but⎯"

"shh," you place the pad of your thumb on her lips, silencing her. your eyes drop to her mouth, tracing your finger along her bottom lip. she parts them, breath hitching. "i saved you because i was unable to bare the sight of your death."

she doesn't respond, her mind jumbled. you continue, pulling her deeper into the water as she crawls toward you.

"so lovely, so undeserving," you whisper, the water now at her knees, forcing her to stand in the water with you. your hands remain on her face, thumb running along the pink skin of her mouth. she breathes heavily, desperate for more, completely under your alluring spell of seduction.

"closer," she mumbles, likely unaware she'd even uttered the word.

you oblige, the water now at your waists. your tail treads water as she legs continue to inch toward you. she moves forward, never stopping, never thinking, never able to. you stop, allowing to to ease closer. she does.

she braces her hands on your hips, fingers caressing the scales with gentility. so different from anything else you'd experienced. normally, when you seduce sailors, they're lustful and desperate and rough. she, however, is kind. curious wonder strikes her eyes, flecks of love already catching her pale green irises. they remind you of sea grass.

you decide to offer her a kindness before the inevitable death that's to overcome her.

you lean in, the waves crashing at your chests, pushing your toward her. you listen, the ocean being your religion, your beacon of a deity. she does the same, obviously. you continue to cradle her face as she continues to encircle your hips, delicacy lacing her every movement.

you press your lips to hers, your bewitched mind incapable of feeling anything aside from an insatiable hunger for her death. ellie, on the other hand, is seeing stars from the mere feel of her mouth on yours. the way your lips move with such calculated precision, the way your teeth nip at the lip you'd been tracing. it's intoxicating. the taste of you is more addictive than any glass of rum she'd ever had.

sea salt and passion line your lips, salty with its passion. she leans in as your lean away, careful to keep your lips connected the whole way down. while ellie is practically unraveling at the seams, you ease into the water.

the trick here, you've learned, is to kiss your victim. that way, they're already holding their breaths with their eyes closed. you can ease them into the water without so much as a fight.

unfortunately for her, ellie is no different.

she follows your every movement, unaware of how the ocean begins to rise. the way the water begins to clog her ears. you drag her down, filling her lungs with your own tainted oxygen that you're not in need of.

you're now far past the surface, ellie continuing to kiss you despite the way her hands go slack around your waist and her breath struggles to maintain itself. you hate the knowledge of knowing you'd killed such a beautiful soul. but, more than that, you love the taste of her death.

the way death holds her hand all the way down; the way her skin turns to an icy blue that mocks your tail; the way her mouth goes slack against yours; the way her eyes are already closed; the way her lungs constrict.

she dies without a fight, completely uncharacteristic for a woman who'd fought her whole life. for a woman who went disguised as a man for so many years, all of her walls were let down for you ⎯ a mysterious creature of the sea who's name she hadn't even bothered to learn.

and as she does, her last thoughts are of your face and the sound of your voice. she dies with a soft contentment in knowing you were what held her as she was put to an eternal slumber.

if her death could be something of benefit to you, she considers it to have been worth it.

⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 perm. taglist : @luvsturniolo @zzombiegirl

⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 fic taglist : @juptology @thefirstromantics @flutterdasher @dinakisser

318 notes · View notes

barcaatthemoon · 3 months ago

Text

little miss perfect || lia walti x reader ||

whenever you have a problem, lia is always there.

there had once been a time whenever you could have seen yourself being close with lia. both of you had grown up in the same area, and had played soccer together as children. your positions had been different, so it wasn't until lia got her call up to the swiss national team that things started to go sideways for the two of you.

you had been born in switzerland, but your parents were german. your father had only been in the area for a job, but once the call came, he packed things up. lia had been one of your best friends, and then one day, you were ripped away from her. even though the two of you had seen each other often after, things were not the same.

the first time that lia had scored on you was far from the first time that your heart broke, but it definitely hurt like it was. it wasn't like practice, and lia had just knocked your chances at tournament advances away with that one shot. your team was decent, but lia was better. you could try your hardest, but you simply just didn't have the energy to block all of them.

"(y/n), honey, it's okay. you'll get them next year." your parents had always been very encouraging when it came to your career. women's soccer wasn't nearly in as good of a place then as it was now, but they believed in you. in their eyes, you were good enough to make the whole world believe in you.

you didn't know then that it would be one of the last games that your parents would attend together. when your father got sick, you completely threw yourself into playing. it was the distraction from everything else in your life. the worse things got at home, the harder you went in training. you had truly become one of the best goalkeepers in the world, but the one person who you wanted to see it wasn't there to do so.

your first game after losing your father was also your first call up for the senior national team. it was a friendly against switzerland, which made you a bit nervous. technically, there wasn't any bad blood between you and lia, but much of the childhood love you shared was lost. all of the good feelings that you had once felt for her festered until they turned into disdain, and eventually, hatred.

"mama, relax. i am at my new apartment, and it is lovely. london is beautiful, i can't wait for you to see my new uniform. i'll send you pictures later. goodbye, i love you." phone calls with your mother were often a bit of an ordeal. she was a worrier, not that you could blame her. she had lost a lot, and you made the choice to move all the way to london to play for chelsea instead of going with her back to switzerland.

chelsea was a good fit for you, at least it was until lia signed for arsenal. you couldn't stand seeing her sometimes. something about playing against her always caused you to make stupid mistakes. she always played perfectly, just like you remembered when you were kids, and somehow, she made you play like you were still just a tiny little child starting out in the goal.

the warnings had been clear, so it didn't surprise you when they didn't renew your contract. still, you were angry. you were mad at yourself for leaving germany, mad at lia for making you play bad, and mad at chelsea for just dumping you. you were mad enough that you had taken their derby rival's offer when it came. the post you had made to announce yourself as a gunner was petty at best, but somehow didn't get you in trouble.

"come on wally, you used to know each other. surely you can tell us something about our new keeper," beth whined as she tried to bug lia into spilling her secrets on you. you pitied her, not having heard you come up behind the two of them.

"i hear she's pretty quiet for a keeper. none of that annoying stomping," you said. beth and lia both jumped, causing you to snicker. "(y/n) (y/l/n), nice to meet you."

"beth, and sorry about that. everybody has been buzzing about this trade, and lia mentioned when the rumors started up that you know each other," beth said. she was trying so hard to explain herself, but you didn't mind. you knew how it looked from the outside, but you had never been good about hiding your anger and wanting some sort of revenge. it wasn't a good trait, something you hadn't grown out of.

"beth," lia hissed. her cheeks were red with embarrassment, and you just ate it up. lia was always so perfect, rarely ever slipping up like that. "it's been a long time, and we've both grown up a lot since then…"

"yeah, lia here became the perfect poster girl for the swiss national team, and i'm the troublemaker that fucks it up when it really counts. little miss perfect." your smile was forced, and lia backed away from you a little as you began to gesture. you were getting yourself worked up, and while lia wanted to comfort you, she knew it wasn't the right time.

"alright then… well, it was nice meeting you," beth said awkwardly. she practically sprinted away with lia, which unfortunately set the tone for your first season.

you had trouble making relationships with the girls, who all knew lia first. it only seemed to get worse whenever caitlin came around. not only did lia have all the friends, but she also had a girlfriend. you had never been able to make anything last, always far too focused on your career. even within your own team, girls dubbed your focus to the game as obsessive.

soccer was your escape, and whenever something wasn't clicking, you went out to the pitch. you felt like it was a safer alternative to partying or something more dangerous. you tried things like therapy and talking, but it never felt like it helped all the way. still, you had begun to make some progress and slowly, things started to get better for you.

"when are you going to tell her how you feel?" beth asked you. she had fallen back from everybody else as you made your way from the training grounds to the cafeteria for lunch before you watched tape.

"what are you talking about?"

"lia, you should talk to her. she's single again, i don't know if you heard. leah wants to set her up with a friend, but viv and i think that you're a better match. it's pretty obvious that you don't hate her now that viv's pointed out how you act around her. you get quiet, but it's not because you're mad or jealous, you're just shy," beth rambled. you wanted to push her away and run, but it would somehow only help to prove her point.

"i don't like lia. maybe i did when we were yong, but that's changed. she wouldn't want someone like me anyway. whoever leah thinks would be good is the better choice. she deserves someone who can handle themselves, not like me." you wanted to leave it at that, but if you had learned anything in your time at arsenal, it was that the girls rarely did that.

you had hoped that kim would be the voice of reason in killing the ridiculous idea circulating the locker room that you and lia would be a good couple. instead, a single conversation at the bar after a tough loss had you calling the last voice of reason in your life, your mother. unfortunately, she agreed with a couple of the more sentimental girls that the idea of you and lia falling for each other after so long apart was utterly perfect.

"your contract is up. i don't know how true it is, but some of the girls heard you aren't going to renew," lia said. it had to have been weeks since you had spoken to each other outside of training. she had said something to you at a club, but the music was far too loud for you to hear anything.

"i don't know yet. arsenal has been nice, but i haven't been able to make it feel like home. maybe i'll go back to germany, things weren't perfect there, but they might have been better." you didn't know why you were being so open with lia. it was like you were too tired to hate her, but the more you thought about it, it had been a long time since you had really felt like you hated her.

"you haven't let your guard down long enough to let it. none of us know how to help you. i want to hold you in my arms and comfort you like i used to, but you said it yourself, we've grown up. we're not sixteen anymore, and we haven't been in a long time."

"there have been other people lia. there's always someone else for you, isn't there? a girl so beloved can't stay single for long, someone always wants to keep her." you let out a dry laugh as you thought of the countless women who had only wanted you for one night. lia frowned at you, a slight pout to her lips that you wanted to lean in and kiss off.

"i would keep you if you let me. i don't know what i did to make you hate me so much, but i'm sorry. i'm sorry for whatever i did, and even more so for everything that i didn't do," lia apologized. you were about to ask what she was talking about when she stopped you. "the losses, i could have comforted you, but i was scared. the girls were already teasing me when we faced each other, and i wanted to fit in with them. i should have called when i heard about your dad, but i didn't know what to say. you've had this caricature of me in your head as being perfect, but i feel like i've made the most mistakes when it comes to you."

"lia-," you started, only to find yourself at a loss for words.

"we could have been happy if i wasn't so scared. i never got to tell you that i wasn't mad at you, and maybe if i had, we wouldn't be like this." lia was almost fully in tears, and you felt guilt tearing you apart from the inside out. "please don't go, give me another season or something to make things right. i'm not perfect, and i won't ever be, but for you, i'll try my best every single day."

"lia, i'm not mad at you. i was always mad at myself, and you weren't around anymore, so i told myself i was mad at you. i don't deserve an apology, but i accept yours. things won't ever be perfect for either of us, but if we try, we can make each other's lives better," you said. "i'll resign, and we can try all of us again. i miss how we used to be."

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #lia walti imagine #lia walti x reader

263 notes · View notes

kybercrystals94 · 2 months ago

Text

Deepest, Wholehearted Regards

Read here on Ao3!

Whumptober 2024 - Day 7 - Prompt: Only for Emergencies / "It's us or them."

@prompts-of-bad-batch Week 3 Prompt: "Sometimes I think he's still here..."

Rated: G | Words: 914

21 BBY

Wrecker is in the gunner’s mount. He doesn’t want to listen to the argument at his back, doesn’t want to think about how it started or why. He doesn’t want to hear about Tech being too analytical, or Crosshair being too emotional. He doesn’t want to hear Hunter try to mediate.

But the ship is too small for that.

And so he hears everything, whether he wants to or not.

Plan 99.

He hates it.

Crosshair hates it too. Hunter won’t say either way, but Wrecker knows Hunter can’t possibly be okay with it. But Tech thinks they should have a plan for everything. Every possible scenario. It is only logical, he says.

“If one of us were to become unrecoverably compromised,” Tech is arguing, “it would be advantageous to have the ability to communicate such an event discreetly.”

“Having a plan to sacrifice ourselves should not be an option.” Crosshair is seething, voice dangerously low.

“It is a very feasible last resort,” Tech counters.

“Be human for one second and think about how that sounds!”

“That’s enough!” Hunter’s sergeant voice is distinct, leaving no room for argument. “Crosshair, go cool off.”

Something slams down hard, the sound of heavy boots retreating to the cockpit, and the hiss of the door closing. Then heavy, thick silence. Wrecker twists his hands together. He wishes he had Lula.

“I did not mean…” Tech says quietly, but he stops short.

Wrecker thinks Hunter must’ve signaled him to be quiet, to let the conversation drop. Please.

There is a sharp intake of breath. “That is to say,” Tech continues, but his voice sounds strange now, “I did not mean for such a plan to be offensive or macabre. Rather, I believed it would provide a chance to relay information we might not otherwise have an opportunity to express in an event where our demise is imminent.”

Hunter sighs. He sounds tired. “What kind of information?”

“Our deepest, wholehearted regards and our innate desire to put the lives of our brothers above our own,” Tech says. “Plan 99 would embody such sentiments without losing time to do so.”

“That’s a good plan, Tech,” Hunter says after a long stretch of silence. “One I don’t intend for any of us to use.”

“That would be preferable,” Tech agrees. “And I thought it would also serve as a remembrance, for Ninety-Nine. I know he would have conveyed the same information, had he had the chance.”

“Yeah,” Hunter says softly, “He would’ve.”

19 BBY

“Wrecker, I need your help,” Omega says, climbing up into the crash seat next to him.

Wrecker laughs. “Sure, kid! What do ya need?”

Omega gives him her data pad. “Tech is having me memorize all of Clone Force 99’s plans. Can you quiz me?”

Wrecker holds the data pad up where Omega cannot see the screen. “Okay…Plan 7…”

Omega carefully relates each plan in detail, even when Wrecker tries to trick her by repeating a plan a time or two. The girl only laughs and recites the plan again without a hitch.

“Your brain must be almost as big as Tech’s, kid, memorizing all those plans like that,” Wrecker tells her, passing over the data pad and ruffling her feathery blond hair.

Omega giggles and ducks away. “Wait, you forgot one,” she protests, pushing the data pad back at him.

“I did?” Wrecker asks, frowning.

“Yeah! Plan 99.”

Wrecker’s heart drops. “Oh, well, yeah. That’s not really a plan. Not like the other plans, ya know?”

“It only says the sacrifice,” Omega says. “What does that mean?”

“Oh, um,” Wrecker stammers, “maybe you should ask Hunter or Tech. Or Echo.”

“Why?” Omega asks.

“They can explain it a whole lot better than me,” Wrecker says.

Omega frowns. “It makes you sad, doesn’t it. Plan 99? It’s for when something bad happens.”

“Sort of,” Wrecker agrees. “It’s for if one of us has to do something we can’t come back from.”

“I don’t like that,” Omega whispers, and she presses in close, curling up under his arm. “I hope we never use Plan 99…ever.”

“Me too, kid,” Wrecker mutters, hugging her close. “We never want to use it…but if we ever did use it, did you know it’s a secret message? Only for us?”

Omega hums a wordless question.

Wrecker continues, keeping his voice as low as he can. “If someone ever says Plan 99 because they know they ain’t coming back, it means they care about you so much, in more words than they have time to say ‘em. It means they are putting your life first, that they want you to keep living, to keep fighting.”

“It means ‘I love you,’” Omega says, voice muffled against him.

Wrecker swallows. “Yeah, kid. It means ‘I love you.’”

Wrecker is in the gunner’s mount room. He doesn’t want to listen to the silence at his back, doesn’t want to think about how it started or why. He wants to hear Tech being analytical, explaining the galaxy away as though it were simple. He wants to hear Crosshair cleaning his rifle, Hunter discussing strategy with Echo. He wants to hear Omega laughing. He wants to pretend that he might be too far away to hear any of it. Sometimes he thinks they’re still there…if he pretends long enough.

But the ship is too small for that.

And so he hears nothing, whether he wants to or not.

Plan 99.

I love you too.

Let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list!

Tag List: @followthepurrgil @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @proteatook @ezras-left-thumb @maeashryver @baddest-batchers @laughhardrunfastbekindsblog @omegafett99 @heidnspeak @fionas-frenzy @dreamsight73 @royallykt

#whumptober2024 #no.7 #only for emergencies #“It's us or them”#Star Wars: the bad batch #fic #prompts of bad batch #week 3 #“Sometimes I think he's still here...”#emotional whump #Wrecker POV #TBB Wrecker #TBB Tech #TBB Crosshair #TBB Hunter #TBB Omega #Echo Mentioned #fics by Kyber

104 notes · View notes

doudouneverte · 1 year ago

Text

Flustered swedish

a/n: just a little Idea on my mind...

Pairing: Stina Blackstenius x FRAWNT!reader; Arsenal WFC x reader.

Summary: Arsenal signed a new and mysterious player but it's seem that some of them already know her

Type: Fluffy as f-

Warning: me who give you a surprise fic but don't finish an other 😭

word count: 1746

-----

Everybody knew Stina was a rather private person, and everybody was okay with this. Things didn't change even when she was transferred to Arsenal.

After the World Cup, she was rather surprised to be welcomed with the news of a new transfer. With Amanda, who signed for the gunners just before the tournament, they were trying to guess which sort of player could be their new teammate.

While the girls were getting ready, they heard someone knock on the door, and all the girls looked at them. You were there with Jonas, waiting for him to introduce you to your new team.

"Girl, this is Y/n, our new recruit. I'll let her introduce herself and get ready for training." He announced to them. "And don't worry, they kind of looked scary, but they don't bite. Well, maybe Katie can." He said to you just too loud to be heard by the Irish girl who protested before he left the room.

When the door got closed, you had all eyes on you, and you guessed it was your time to start to speak.

"Hi, I'm Y/n Y/l/n; I'm a full back. I played for the PSG, and I play for the France national team." You said trying to not stutter and give a bad first impression. The girls didn't have time to say anything before Amanda came to hug you.

"I knew you would follow me. You can't get rid of me." She joked, making you chuckle lightly. After that, the rest of the room came to welcome you. Stina being the last one, everybody noticed your change when you shook the striker's hand.

"Well, isn't that Mrs. Blackstenius?" You asked loudly and the Swedish player rolled her eyes.

"Happy to see you too, Y/n." She replied sarcastically, which made Lina and Amanda laugh quietly.

"Do we have to worry that they will rip each other's heads apart?" Lia asked Lina.

"No, don't worry, they played together back in Montpelier." The second Swedish informed them.

During the training, everyone saw something; you were close to the Swedish players, but even more so with Stina. Sometimes girls could hear you make jokes, to which the striker would just roll her eyes before a smirk appeared on her face.

After training, it was time to go back home. "So can you tell us how you ended up here without us knowing anything?" Amanda asked when the only ones in the changing room were the three Swedish players and you.

"I asked Johanna to pick me up at the airport, and she also drove me here. Which means—" You looked at Stina and said, "We'll have to go to her home before we go to ours."

The striker didn't complain and just grabbed her bag and your hand before leading you out of the room. You stayed there until you reached her car, and she had to let you sit on the passenger side.

"I hope you like your–" You didn't finish your sentence before her lips were glued against yours. She only broke it when oxygen became a necessity.

"I missed you. You don't know how much I'm happy that you finally joined me." She confessed.

"I'm sure you'll have all the time to show me this after we get my things from Jo." You said with a mischievous smile.

The next few days were strange for the Arsenal girls. It was not difficult to talk to you; you were rather open about everything. That helped them learn more about you and how you were so friendly with the Swedish players. But something was still on almost everyone's minds: you said that you had a wife, but some of them heard you shamelessly flirt with Stina.

"I don't think it's a good idea to let Y/n flirt like that with Stina." Steph proposed to some teammates while they saw you telling what seemed like a good joke, judging by your proud face and the laughing face of the Swedish woman.

"Maybe they're just good friends," Caitlin said.

"Friends don't look at each other like they did." Lia said, pointing out how much they saw you do the heart eyes to the blonde.

"You should see how Stina looked at her when we were training today." Viv said as she joined the group.

"See? Even Viv noticed it." Steph said to her national teammate, obviously not replying when the Dutch asked her what she meant.

The girls were about to say something when they saw you walking near them to join Kyra and Vicky, who called you for something.

"It's time." Steph said, and the group quickly stood up to have a little talk with their teammate.

Stina was doing some exercise and entertaining a little chat with her Swedish teammates, and Frida, who joined them just after you left, when she saw the girls stopping in front of her.

"Is everything okay?" She asked when she noticed the expressions of her teammates.

The girls exchanged glances to see who would talk first. When she felt that nobody would, Leah took things into her hands. "Stina, I—no, we think you need to stop what you and Y/n are doing." The captain said, earning a strange look from all the Scandi girls.

"What do you mea–" Amanda started, but she was cut when you came back from your little chat with the youngies.

"Hey Blackstenius, isn't it funny that I'm the French one but Eiffel for you?" You said with a comical wink, which made Lina and Amanda burst into laughter while the striker just blushed very hard. "Okay, now I have to go." You said this before leaving, leaving the girls completely speechless.

"What just happened?" Caitlin asked.

"I think we will need to have a talk with her too. She can't just do that." Steph said.

~~~

This evening, you were cooking when Stina suddenly came to you with an amusing look. You looked at her with a confused expression while she just laughed at something on her phone.

"Hey, what is it?" You asked a little jealous to not be in the confidence.

"The girls came to me today. They told me that you need to stop flirting with me like that. They find it very inappropriate because you have a wife, and it's very irrespective to her."

"Well, too bad. I love to flirt with her in front of everyone, even if they don't know who she is." You replied. The blonde took your hands, wrapped them around her waist, and placed hers around your neck.

"I know you want to tell them, but you can't deny that it's funny to see them freak out." She pointed, making you chuckle.

"Okay, but we will have to tell them soon because I started to feel a little impressed with their bad looks." You said this before pressing a light kiss on her lips.

"Yeah, I know. Don't worry, we will–" She was cut off by the doorbell, making her look at you a little confused. "You waited for someone?"

"I invited Jo, but she shouldn't have been here for at least thirty minutes, I think." You replied while you made your way to the front door.

"Maybe it's your wife." Stina joked.

"Oh, welcome, my lov–oh." In front of you were Steph, Caitlin, Lia, and Leah. "Well, good evening, I think." You said and let them enter, a little unsure of what was happening.

"Älskling (Darling), who is this?" Stina said coming out of the kitchen. "Oh. Well, good evening... I think." She said to the girls.

The girls looked at you, then at her, more confused than before.

"What's happening here? And what are you doing here?" Leah asked you.

"Well, I can ask you the same thing. We were expecting Jo and Zećira, but I think you're welcome too." You replied.

"Wait. Can we please restart it slowly? First, what is Y/n doing here, and second "Jo and Zećira"? Like Kaneryd and Mušović from Chelsea?" Caitlin asked.

"First, we live together; second, yeah; and to finish, what are you doing here?" Your wife was more confused than angry.

"Well, we want to see you, and—wait! Did you say that you live together?" Lia asked.

"Yeah, I mean, it's okay to live with my wife, until there is a law that I don't know yet that says the opposite." You replied with a little bit of sarcasm in your tone.

"Your wife?" They all asked at the same time.

"Surprise," Stina said, showing them her ring.

"Why is it the first time we see this?" Steph asked this time.

"She usually leaves it home when she has to train because she loses things easily." You replied, making your wife throw a pillow at you.

"Since when?" The Swiss woman asked visibly more calm than the others.

"Three years now, but I already told you that last week." You said.

"No, until a few seconds ago, we thought that you were married to some random woman, not one of our teammates." Leah said.

"Okay, it's not that I don't want to talk, but I need to finish cooking, so I let you with her." You said heading directly to your previous location.

From the kitchen, you could hear how the girls didn't stop asking all sorts of questions to the striker, and you were mentally laughing just by imagining the face she should make at this moment. Yes, you didn't really yell everywhere that you were engaged to the Swedish player, but it was never really taboo every time someone asked you what your relationship was with her.

The meal was just ready when you heard the front open and close a few seconds later and heard your wife's footsteps coming to where you were. Being taller than you, she wrapped her arms around your torso and rested her head on top of yours before taking a deep breath.

"Please don't let me reply to those questions alone next time, please." She said dramatically, making you laugh.

"I'm sorry, mon amour (my love), but you nailed it, like always." You replied and turned around to face her. She was about to kiss you, but you gently put your finger on top of her lips. "I think I heard someone ring outside." You said.

"What do you–" she couldn't say something before both heard the ring bell a second time. The blonde rolled her eyes but finally let your body.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #stina blackstenius #stina blackstenius x reader #arsenalwfc x reader #arsenalwfc #arsenal women x reader #awfc x reader

469 notes · View notes

skipper1331 · 1 year ago

Text

Baby // Esme Morgan

a/n: based off this request. Enjoy:)

"My love" the blonde whispered as she hugged from behind, trailing soft kisses along your neck. You couldn‘t help but melt in her grasp, your skin tingling at each brush of her lips. "You‘re so beautiful" her hands rested flat on your growing stomach. Ever since you told Esme that you were pregnant, her sweet girl personality just turned sweeter. She was the happiest person, you were her wife and soon the mother of her child. Everything felt perfect, Esme treated you with so much respect and love, cared about you like no one else did.

"I missed you today" you whispered, your head falling against her shoulder as you softly swayed to the soft music in the background.

"I missed you too but I’m also a bit mad at you" she matched your voice level, still pressing featherlight kisses along your skin.

You stopped your movement, turning in her hold as you looked at her confused, "why?"

"My girl, I told you I’d go to the grocery store yet you did it by yourself" she stated.

"But you were at training and I had nothing to do" you grumbled, crossing your arms as you glared at her.

"you’re not supposed to carry heavy things" she smiled down at you, so much adoration in her eyes. She looked at you like you hung the moon.

Every day, she thanked the universe that she could call you her own.

"Baby!" you whined, "I can still do things in the household"

With her finger on your lips, she shushed you, "Firstly, you carry our baby, so don’t carry heavy stuff. And secondly, you help enough already by motivating me with your existence" she grinned, littering kisses all over your face, to which you responded with her favorite sound: giggles.

"Hello, here is your mama" the defender mumbled against your tummy, her thumbs drawing circles at your sides, "I love you very very much. And your mommy, I love her very much too" Esme looked at you, loving eyes already staring back at her. Your heart fluttered at each of her words, your skin tingled at each touch and your mind was consumed by the thoughts of Esme interacting with your baby. She’ll be a great mama. "I‘ll raise you as the biggest City fan. You will walk around with a little jersey and then you‘ll meet your aunties." the city player stated.

The answer came straightaway - a kick.

The blonde gasped loudly, sitting up, "That was an agreement!"

"No it wasn’t" you laughed, "he‘s going to be raised as a gunner"

Esme left your touch, immediately, her expression unreadable. You never saw that kind of a look in her eyes. She seemed shocked, happy, confused and- you couldn‘t tell. Did you say something wrong?

"It‘s going to be a boy?" she breathed out.

Shit! You didn‘t mean to ruin the surprise of the gender.

"Esme- I’m so sorry!" you tried explaining, your hands grabbing her own as you were about to cry, too many emotions filling your body.

"Hey, don’t cry. My love, don‘t cry" she was by your side in an instant, her arms around your body as you cried in her chest. The defender whispered sweet nothings into your ear while she tracing patterns on your skin, in a manner of calming you down.

As your tears stopped rolling you down your cheeks, you looked up, the lioness smiling at you with her own tears in the corner of her eyes, "it‘s going to be a boy."

nothing but pride shone through her eyes as her smile showed her happiness.

"What if he doesn‘t want to be a sky blue?" Esme asked as the two of you laid on the couch, the tall girl absentmindedly playing with your hair. "What if he wants to be a red devil? That would be the worst" she grumbled, continuing to ramble about the choice of club.

Chuckling into her chest, you couldn‘t help but admire her, she often told you about the things she wanted to show your baby boy and let you feel like the prettiest person alive by just looking about you. It was amusing that she was seriously concerned which club your little man would support. "You know I think red is the better colour"

"I know" the blonde groaned, hiding her face, "you‘re lucky I love you"

"I love you too"

Pulling her in for a sweet kiss, she smiled against your lips. Gently, her hand slipped under your shirt, fingertips dancing across your spine as you melted with one another. Kissing Esme will always be one of your favorite things to do.

"I love our boy even if he doesn‘t support City"

It was the 28th March when the two of you finally met your baby boy.

"Are you my favorite boy, yes you are" Esme smiled, your son in her arms as he looked at her with wide eyes, somehow a smile plastered on his face.

Esme loved being a mum, the same as you did. It fulfilled her heart with so much pride, love and passion.

"Look at your mommy, she‘s the most amazing person in the world" she held the boy who was looking everywhere but at your sleeping figure on the couch.

"I love her very much" she continued, "and she makes me so happy."

"I met her when I was 14, that‘s a little bit older than you are at the moment, my boy and I immediately fell in love with her"

"I‘m so sorry" a young Esme apologized over and over after she had bumped into you, your books and notes falling out of your hands. In a matter of seconds she was squatted down, picking up your stuff while you joined her, "i didn’t see you" she muttered, desperately trying to pick up each pen.

"It‘s okay"

As she went to grab the last pen, your mind had the same thought. Your hands touched for a brief of a second, the blonde looking up, her breath caught in her throat, "now, i see you" and you were absolutely breathtaking. Esme had never seen someone as pretty as you.

"9 years later, i still think the same. Your mommy is breathtaking" she smiled fondly as your son looked at Esme with big eyes.

"I asked her to be my girlfriend through a love letter. She made me felt like a poet, lovely words ran through my mind, your mommy running through my mind all day long, even at night."

The sun was setting, the sky beautiful with it colours as the two of you walked through the streets. Esme, the sweetheart she was, not accepting "I can walk home on my own, I’m old enough"

She walked beside you, your hands softly brushing against one another’s. You wanted to hold hers but you were too shy to take matters into your own hands, so you accepted the touch of brush.

Esme didn’t.

After the third brush, she just slipped her hand in yours, your heart racing at her gentle touch. "Is that okay?" she asked, not looking at you.

"Yes" you replied.

So while one of her hands held yours, the other one was hidden in her jacket, the love letter between her fingertips.

"Thank you for walking me home" you smiled, your hand not leaving hers, not yet.

"Always"

You looked at each other, soft smiles displayed on your faces, "um, this is for you" shyly and with red cheeks she pulled out the envelope, your name written in cursive on it.

You were about to open it as she stopped you, "don‘t. not now"

She looked vulnerable - you respected her wishes.

"I still remember what i wrote in that letter"

'My y/n,

As i sit down to write this letter, my heart, my body and mind is bursting with emotions.

Forgive me, if some sentences don’t make any sense - my mind is spinning, consumed by the thought of you.

I love the way you laugh, the sound of your giggles music to my ears.

I love the way you smile, how it reaches the corner of your eyes.

I love the way you talk, your voice expressive and gentle.

I wake up with the intention to make you smile and laugh.

I go to be with the hope that you follow me into my dreams - you do.

I dream about you at night, at day and about the future, our future.

The moment i laid my eyes on you, i knew that my heart would be yours - forever.

I respect you.

You make me feel happy, dizzy and relaxed - i feel safe with you.

Yet words will never be enough to describe the things you let me feel.

You are special.

I want you to be my girlfriend, so I’m asking you: do you love me the same way i love you?

-Esme:)‘

"Your mama was very romantic" the blonde chuckled, her index finger softly caressing along the boys cheek as his eyes fell shut every now and then. It didn‘t stop the City player - she continued talking.

She continued with the story, how she asked you to marry her and talked about your reaction, how she asked every important person in your life for their blessing, something you appreciated so much.

"One day, someone will love you the way i love your mommy" she whispered, your son fast asleep in her arms.

Pressing a tender kiss to his forehead, she laid him in his crib, admiring as her heart swelled with love. What she failed to realize was that you weren‘t sleeping anymore - that you were wide awake, listening to the things she told your baby boy.

Gently, you snuggled her arms around her waist, the girl frightened for a moment before she realized it was you. Her favorite girl on earth.

"You‘re still a hopeless romantic"

She turned in your hold, her own arms wrapping around your waist as yours changed their position.

"What else did you hear?" the defender asked, cheeks crimson red - you made her mind spin, knees weak and heart race, she felt shy and nervous. Even after years, you still had the same effect on her.

"Everything"

"Do you want to surprise your mama?" you asked the boy who babbled about something, happily accepting the fact that he was in your arms, small hands gripping your shirt.

Esme was at training, the boy and you at home while you got your son ready for her surprise. Yesterday, the surprise finally arrived and you couldn‘t be more excited to see her reaction. You bought a mini city jersey, the name Morgan displayed on the back with her number 14.

Your son looked absolutely adorable.

Excited, you waited patiently for her to return, occupying the boy with some simple things.

"My love, I’m home" she called after what felt like an eternity, "wow" she stopped in her tracks, the sky blue catching her eyes immediately. "What‘s this?" she asked confused.

"What does it look like?" you hand her the boy who clapped his hand as she eyed his outfit. Esme’s heart made jumps as she saw her baby boy with her jersey, "you‘re such a cute little boy" the mama stated happily as she caressed his cheeks.

"Where‘s yours, my love?" she asked, eyes on you as she took a step towards you to peck your lips.

"In the drawer" you looked at her, raising a brow, "do you want me to put it on?"

Enthusiastically she nodded, "pretty please"

5 minutes later, you walked in the living room your two favorite people seated on the couch. As soon as you entered the room, Esme’s eyes lit up, "you look beautiful" she breathed, the sky blue making her happy as the jersey hugged your body perfectly. You took a seat beside her, your head falling against her shoulder while one of her arms made its way around your waist. Your son was already asleep in her touch, the boy never one to stay awake for long if his mama held him.

"I know you‘re a gunner, my love, but seeing you in this shirt makes me so incredibly happy" she mumbled, "and our little boy also wearing one, I can‘t describe the things i‘m feeling."

"Even though I prefer red over blue, sky blue will always be my favorite" you smiled, leaning up to kiss her, softly.

Wrapped up in your own little lovely bubble, it caught you by surprise when your son‘s first left his mouth.

"mama"

#esme morgan #esme morgan x reader #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #lionesses #engwnt x reader #engwnt #lionesses x reader #manchester city x reader #man city x reader #man city #man city women #manchester city women #manchester city

478 notes · View notes

browsing-and-anon-asking · 7 days ago

Text

Ughgfhfiebdjdh YAY!!!! I really love how these all turned out!!

Paladin Danse

The man the myth the cake

My plan was to make him less curvy and he came out MORE

I hate drawing power armor and I love him in the bomber jackets so... he's in a bomber jacket

I made the scar on his eyebrow more visible

If you look close his pupils are slightly yellow... wonder what that's about 👀👀

I fattened him up a little! Think he deserves to be kinda fat

Switched orange uniform to black uniform bc it looks better

He's kinda smug about being in the BoS genuinely feel so bad when he gets exiled(fuck you maxson, you're hot but fuck you)

No idea who that is still

Hai Deacon!!!!(if you get that ref I love you)

I wanted to make him more androgynous looking since he's constantly getting cosmetic surgery done, and his whole thing is 'never show your real self'

Painted his nails because I said so

Backpack has a whole fashion show kit in there and yet it's as light as a feather

Injured arm bc IN MY GAME HES SO STUPID OH MY GOD

This fucking idiot changes his look as he running at gunners who are SHOOT AT HIM BTW AND TAKES UP ALL MY DAMN STIMPACK OH MY GOD

I still love him tho so....

I also made him a blonde, if you can't tell by the eyebrows and little hairs on his chin

And yes.... I made the top of his head a lil sun burnt...

G....Gage 🤤🤤🤤

Okay. Okay. Yes. I do... have favoritism to Preston, Gage and MacCready idk if you could tell with how much more I did for their designs than others...

Where to begin. Made upper body bigger bc I'm sure he was doing most of the cleaning in Culter's room, and probably helped carry supplies for the power armor.

Also make the tank top shrink, so you can see... his... uhm.

Hairier man is a better man

Took away one belt bc that's the dumbest shit ever why does he have two

Darker the chains for the bags and kinda pushed them up a tiny bit

Dirty...

Made eye scar slightly seen.

Gave body scars

Did pretty work to his eyes, did you see 👀

Oh my days, I really am super chill about him, btw. I'm so chill and cool about him...

THANKS EVERYONE!!! WILL POST THE POLL IN AN HOUR!!!

#fallout 4 #fallout 4 companions #fo4 #fo4 companions #paladin danse #porter gage #fo4 paladin danse #fo4 danse #deacon fo4 #fo4 deacon #deacon fallout 4 #fallout 4 deacon #fo4 porter gage #fo4 gage #fallout 4 gage #fallout 4 porter gage #gage fo4 #oh my god i need this man #what

76 notes · View notes

gc-genshin · 10 months ago

Text

Stitching Wounds, Weaving Bonds

Scaramouche x Fem!Healer!Reader

You were currently sitting in your clinic working on some paperwork for your last patient. A Cryo Cincin mage that had severe third degree burns along with bullet wounds after getting into a scuffle with a Pyro gunner.

Suddenly the whole room began to rumble, knocking items off your desk. You slowly look up with a bored look. Great, now I have to pick these up. You bent down from your desk and started cleaning up. It wasn't uncommon for your work clinic to randomly shake due to the soldiers training and causing elemental reactions. As you stand back up and begin to reorganize your things on your desk, your door slams open.

Flinching from the loud noise, you turn your head to look at the culprit. You furrow your eyebrows in concern upon seeing Scaramouche standing in your doorway. Bruises and scratches, along with a busted lip, littered his face, and his iconic frisbee-looking hat was missing, showcasing his disheveled hair.

And boy did he not look happy.

You could feel the irritation radiating off him in waves. “What the hell happened to you?” You asked worriedly. He stayed silent as you beckoned him over to the exam table. “Here, sit down.” You then start to wash your hands and put on gloves. Still, he stayed silent.

You give him a glare. “I can't help you if you don't tell me what happened.”

Grabbing your equipment, you set them next to him on the table. Scaramouche continued staring off into space, either refusing to answer you or just couldn't process your words.

Now you were getting even more worried. Shit, he may be concussed. You move to stand in front of Scaramouche and tap him on the shoulder. That seemed to work as he finally looked up and made eye contact with you. You could now get a better view of his injuries. He has a busted lip that was still bleeding, a wide cut underneath his left eye that would need a few stitches, a laceration on the same eyebrow and a deep purple bruise on the left side of his face.

You made sure to keep a neutral expression on your face as you kept eye contact with him because you knew how much Scaramouche hated being looked at with sympathy or concern.

“Can you tell me your name?” You asked Scaramouche sternly.

Furrowing his eyebrow, and wincing from the sting of the laceration, he looked at you incredulously. “What?”

“I need you to tell me your name in order to see if you are alert and oriented.” You calmly explained. “Can you tell me your name?”

Scaramouche rolled his eyes. “Of course I can tell you my name.”

You looked at him expectantly.

“It’s Scaramouche.” He told you sardonically.

Nodding, you continue asking him questions (much to his annoyance) until you deemed that he didn’t lose consciousness.

You bring a penlight out and start shining it in and out of his eyes. Scaramouche squints his eyes at the motion. “What the fuck are you doing now?” He asks, aggravated.

“I’m checking to see if your pupils react appropriately and are equal. If they aren’t, then that’s a sign of a possible concussion.” You explain while still checking his eyes. After a few more swipes of the light across his eyes, you confirmed that both of his pupils showed no signs of anisocoria.

“So are you going to tell me what happened?” You ask. A few beats of silence pass before Scaramouche lets out a sigh. “Dotore pissed me off.”

Wow… shocker there… You nod in understanding. “Is that all?” You ask while bringing a hand under his chin. You gently begin to tilt his face to see if he had any other injuries that you couldn't see. When you couldn't find any, you went back to your sink and grabbed a towel to wet it.

You also chose not to comment on the slight red that lit up Scaramouche’s cheeks.

“He landed a solid hit on me…” The harbinger grumbled out. Scaramouche willed himself so hard to not blush at your touch and close proximity but the way you were holding him so delicately, he couldn't help the little bit of vermilion that coated his cheeks and the tip of his ears. She was so gentle… Scaramouche frowned and shook his head. Stop, she's only doing her job.

You walked back, wet towel in hand, and stopped in front of him again. “Please tell me you beat his ass.” You begin to dab away the blood from his lip, eye, and eyebrow, making sure to keep the pressure light.

Scaramouche let out a scoff. “Of course I did.”

You let a small smirk grace your features upon hearing that. “So what did Dotore do to piss you off so much?” You inquired.

Scaramouche felt his eye twitch, the same one that had the cut, and grimaced. “It's nothing.” He mumbled out.

You let out a disbelieving snort. “Yeah, okay~ It's totally nothing if you just came storming into my clinic bloodied and bruised.” You grabbed his chin playfully and made him look at you. “Now what really happened?” You asked frowning. You moved from his eyebrow to his eye. While the cut wasn't deep, it was wide and would definitely need stitches. After dabbing away the blood, you then lean around Scaramouche and grab a cotton ball along with a bottle of hydrogen peroxide.

Scaramouche feels his lip curl up in a scowl. The previous ‘conversation’ he had with the Harbinger replayed in his mind which made his blood begin to boil again.

“As a matter of fact… why didn't I just go and pay [Name] a visit right now?” He taunted with a cocky smirk. “I'll be sure to show her a good time for you~”

A sudden stinging sensation on his eyebrow forced him to break away from his thoughts. He lets out a sharp gasp. “Ow! What the fuck?” He snaps out and glares at you.

You hummed. “Welcome back. You damn near burned a hole in my table.” You joke while pointing to the exam table. Scaramouche looked down and indeed, there were scorch marks next to his legs where he was gripping the table. You then dabbed the cut once more with peroxide. Scaramouche let out another sharp inhale and shot his hands forward to grab whatever was in front of him to tolerate the pain.

It just so happens what he death gripped was your waist.

The sudden pressure made you jump with a grimace. Scaramouche’s hands were still hot from his previous use of electro but they weren't scorching. If anything, they felt nice from their usually freezing temperature.

Scaramouche's grip on your waist tightened, and you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at his unexpected touch. "Easy there, tiger. Trying to electrocute me too?" you teased, a playful glint in your eyes. As you continued to tend to his wound, the air between you seemed to shift, lingering with a mix of tension and something more.

He smirked, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Well, isn't this a cozy setup? The mighty [Name], healer extraordinaire, nursing the wounds of a Fatui Harbinger. Who would've thought?"

You chuckled, feeling the subtle heat of his hands against your waist. "Just consider it a service to keep you in one piece. Wouldn't want the Fatui losing their favorite troublemaker, now would we?"

Scaramouche's touch sent a tingling sensation through your body, and you couldn't help but meet his gaze. Despite the initial irritation, his eyes softened, revealing a vulnerability beneath the sharp exterior. "Guess I owe you for this," he muttered, his tone less abrasive but still somewhat annoyed. The unexpected closeness created an intimate atmosphere, and you found yourself caught in a moment that transcended the usual banter.

The clinic's ambiance felt charged as Scaramouche's gaze held yours. The banter that usually defined your interactions now gave way to a quiet understanding. His usual arrogance seemed to waver, replaced by what appeared to be genuine appreciation.

With a smirk, you replied, "Owing me one? Well, you can start by not burning any more holes in my furniture." The teasing tone lingered, but there was a newfound warmth in the air. As you continued the delicate work on his cut, his grip on your waist softened, the tension in his frame easing.

Scaramouche leaned in, his breath grazing your ear. "Who knew getting patched up could be so entertaining?" The corners of his lips twitched, a rare, unguarded smile playing on his face.

You couldn't deny the spark of attraction that simmered beneath the surface. "Maybe you should consider regular check-ups. It's a hazardous world out there for a Harbinger," you suggested with a playful glint in your eyes.

He chuckled, the sound surprisingly genuine. "Maybe I'll make it a habit, just for the company." The air between you held a magnetic pull, and for a moment, the line between healer and harbinger blurred in the most unexpected way.

As the final stitches secured the wound, Scaramouche reluctantly released your waist. The charged atmosphere lingered, a silent acknowledgment of a connection that had unexpectedly blossomed in the clinic.

"Well, healer extraordinaire, I suppose I'll be on my way," Scaramouche remarked, his usual cockiness making a subtle return. He stood up, the banter returning to its familiar rhythm.

You handed him a small vial. "In case you decide to scorch anything else, a healing potion might come in handy."

He smirked, pocketing the vial. "Consider me warned. But who knows, maybe I'll drop by again for another 'cozy setup.'"

As he left, the door closed behind him, leaving you alone with the echoes of banter and a lingering sense of connection that defied the usual boundaries. The unexpected encounter with Scaramouche had added a new layer to your clinic's tales, and you couldn't help but wonder what other surprises awaited in the world of Teyvat.

i live. also i'm in my final semester of nursing school so go me! sorry if scaramouche seems ooc, i literally have not played genshin since starting nursing school over a year ago so that's my bad. anyways, thanks for reading :)

#genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #female reader #scaramouche #scara x reader #scaramouche genshin impact #scaramouche x you #reader insert

188 notes · View notes

just-here-with-my-thoughts · 3 months ago

Text

R.O.U.S.'s

@summer-of-bad-batch week 12 prompt 'Nightmares' (yeah my second fic for the same prompt I know ;)

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Omega, Hunter, Tech, Echo, Wrecker, Stardust the Space Hamster Set after Season 2 episode 'Metamorphosis' Word Count: ~540 Read Here on AO3

Featuring Stardust the Space Hamster, as created by the fabulous @kybercrystals94 - I promised you I'd write Stardust fic for the event, didn't I? :P

Synopsis: After the encounter with the Zillo Beast, Omega has a nightmare...

A shrill scream rent the air, reverberating off the metal walls of the Marauder. It had all four clones falling out of their seats and fighting each other in their haste to reach the gunner's mount.

"Omega? What is it?"

Hunter's voice was tight with alarm as he all but vaulted up the ladder. Tech crowded behind him until he too was perched on the edge of the platform, and Echo and Wrecker pressed close at the bottom.

Omega was crying now, great hiccoughing sobs accompanied by huge tears pealing down her cheeks.

“Hunter!” she gasped with relief, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. “You’re okay!”

“We are all well, Omega,” said Tech with clipped concern, as Hunter returned Omega’s embrace and shot his brother an alarmed look over the top of her shaking shoulder. “What is the matter?”

“Tech!” Now it was his turn for Omega to burrow into his chest, as he tensed and awkwardly encircled her with one arm, patting her shoulder.

“There, there,” he said, tilting his head down to try and peer into Omega’s tear-streaked face. “Can you tell us what woke you?”

“It’s Stardust,” said Omega unexpectedly, her voice breaking on a sob.

“Stardust is fine too,” Echo reassured her from his position at the bottom of the gunner’s mount.

“I had a bad dream,” Omega snuffled, pulling back from Tech and rubbing at her tear-streaked cheeks. “Stardust grew enormous. Her cage broke, and she kept growing and growing. She was too big for the Marauder! And then…” Another burbling sob escaped her as her face crumpled into fresh tears. “And then she ate you!”

Wrecker thumped Tech in the thigh, so hard that Tech yelped.

“Who told her that the Zillo ate the crew?” said Wrecker with an accusatory eye roll. Tech merely returned the look with a petulant frown, whilst Hunter wrapped his arms around Omega again.

“We’re all okay,” he said gruffly, jostling her shoulders a little to try and cheer her up. “Stardust is fine… and she’ll still fit in the palm of your hand!”

“She ate you until you were bones!” said Omega with a fresh wail.

The four brothers glanced at each other helplessly, with a shared round of shrugs.

“I’m going to get the chocolate powder,” declared Echo, turning towards the galley. “Wrecker, get the mugs.”

Omega sniffed and her sobs died away to hiccups at the promise of hot chocolate, resting her cheek on Hunter’s shoulder as his hand moved in soothing circles on her back.

Tech adjusted his goggles.

“I would like to reassure you, Omega, that it was the Zillo’s unique species characteristics that let it grow large enough to consume human prey. It is quite impossible for the same thing to happen with a criceto.”

Hunter kicked out with one leg, booted foot finding Tech’s other thigh and sending him dropping over the edge of the ladder, where he landed lightly on his feet. Then he grabbed Lula, thrusting her into Omega’s hands.

“C’mon, kid,” he said with a smile, lifting her close to her chest and cradling her like she was a much smaller child than she was. “Hot chocolate after a nightmare? Who could say no to that.”

This fic most definitely inspired by real life events... I cannot tell you how unprepared I was to round the corner whilst in town on my lunch break the other day to find this...

6ft tall hamster roaming the streets of the city was not on my bingo card. And I knew straight away what to write for my long-awaited Summer of Bad Batch Stardust fic 😂

Also inspired by the real nightmare my kid had when they were about 7, where a T-rex ate us until we were bones, and then ate us again. All I could hear in my head whilst I was writing this fic was Omega's little voice saying "It ate the crew?!" 😂

#summerofbadbatch2024 #week12 #nightmares #the bad batch #tbb fanfic #the stardust conspiracy #original hamster character #space hamster shenanigans #stardust the criceto

42 notes · View notes

therealslimshakespeare · 9 months ago

Text

WIP teaser

I got myself a lovely little request over a week ago for a Nurse!xBuck fic. Well, hi, it’s me, can’t not take that and run with it straight off the edge of the known world. I don’t even have a fixed name for it yet but I’ve been enjoying AU-ing our familiar faves to death with it

MOTA Pacific Theatre AU: yeah, you heard that right. Maybe it’s the anniversary of Iwo Jima currently happening or maybe it’s my ongoing crush on Ensign Jane Kendeigh, or -more likely- my subconscious awareness that nurse OC’s are a pretty favorited bunch for fandom writers, so I’ve found myself mixing it up entirely.

We’ve got Navy Flight Nurses and we’ve got Lt. Commander Doc Egan and co-pilots Cleven and Demarco who aren’t too fond of having to fly cargo planes full of wounded out of war zones all due to flight surgeon John Egan’s special request to have Cleven chauffeur him around. Oh yeah, and somehere in here there’s a developing thing between Cleven x oc Nurse!Ensign Maureen Kendeigh

TW: blood? Use of the word “Jap”

…

“You got it, commander.”

More than a little sure her mission was more provoking than necessary, Maureen still obeyed and followed Brady up the length of the plane and towards his station, then past it to poke her head between the pilots’ seats.

“Well, well, this is a pleasant surprise, getting car sick, kiddo?” Demarco joked, “Hey, I get it, I’d find it hell back there with no windows to look out.”

“Those mortars obligingly made a few.” Maureen joked back.

“Anybody hurt?” Cleven asked, and to her surprise, he turned from his panel to look at her with unmasked concern.

A joke was ready made there about everyone quite literally being shot to hell but she sensed he’d not appreciate it and following some uninterpreted impulse of desiring his good opinion, she hardly wished to repay his earnestness with flippancy. “Only one.”

“How bad?”

“He looked -dead.” Maureen admitted, she hadn’t gotten a good look at the man moving past him but she’d seen Egan’s treatment of the body and it wasn’t promising.

Cleven’s jaw worked overtime at the news and something snapped in his mouth, followed by a soft curse from lips too full and soft to always be so stern. Maureen thought he may have broken a tooth with all that tension but he spit out two halves of a bloodied toothpick instead. It fell to his pant leg.

“Major Cleven, sir, you’re bleeding.” It had drawn Maureen’s attention to his wet lap.

“That’s what I said.” Demarco agreed.

“It’s somebody else’s.” Cleven shook his head.

“You know if you pass out on me-“ Demarco warned, completely ignoring Cleven’s denial.

“-that’s why we’ve got co-pilots.” Cleven finished for him with a maddening smirk that made Benny Demarco throw his hands up.

“Can you check him?” he asked, “I mean -you are a nurse!”

“What? Hell no!” Major Cleven spooked for the first time all day at the suggestion, glancing quickly from his reddened trousers, behind him to Maureen Kendeigh, and back again. “I’m fine.” he declared in a firm tone that dettered her almost as much as the challenge of getting over the instruments and a steering column to pull down his pants and look. “Ensign Kendeigh, was there a purpose to your visit?” He redirected, resolutely ignoring Demarco’s unabated concerns.

“Yes sir,” she replied, meekly as she could, “Doc Egan asked me to remind you that you’re not flying a bomber. To mind the oxygen, sir. And that it’s cold.”

Cleven let out a mirthless little laugh. “We’re full of holes Ensign, of course it’s cold.”

“I know sir.”

“Yeah, ‘course you know,” his eyes lightened for a moment and Maureen almost deluded herself he was being chummy when he murmured next, “you’re smart like that. Tell the Lieutenant Commander I’ll keep her nice and low, so low the Jap navy gunners can blow the floor out without a sweat.”

“Thank you, Major.” Maureen chirped, pleased to have been trusted with a bit of morbid humor -it was the truest test of being taken seriously a woman could hope for in the service.

“Thank you, Ensign.” And with that she was dismissed.

#wip #those who can #mota #masters of the air #Gale Cleven #mota AU #Buck Cleven #Austin butler #Austin butler fanfiction #mota fanfic #gale cleven x reader #john egan

96 notes · View notes

not-goldy · 7 months ago

Note

I'll believe discharged buddy soldiers over homophobic anons, solos & Jikook antis who've decided to make up rules for the buddy system to help them cope.

There's a interview on two buddy soldiers who've been dischagred, on the ministry site to read. One a cook, one a gunner. Who talked about their experience being together every day & dealing with arguments. One said, "since we lived in the same & shared a bed the entire time we were there until discharge, we would just get in bed & hug it out". Right there you have two confirmed buddy soldiers, with confirmed different jobs, with one being a confirmed cook, telling you straight from the horse's mouth, they were still together every day, living together & sleeping together. So Susan from Oklahoma who knows a friend who knows a korean person, trying to explain the buddy system with their made up rules cause of her homophobic agenda, isn't gonna convince me military changed rules for Jikook. Jikook aren't enlisted separately. They are enlisted companions, so buddy rules will apply for them til discharged regardless of separate jobs. You morons.

Sad knowing Jk has said often he can't concentrate, focus & can't sit still in interviews & all of BTS confirming he doesn't listen or pay attention & how its possible the high stress situation was a bit too much & was assigned something else, we don't know, but instead his fucked up fans are ready to throw him under the bus. Paint him as an asshole who ditched his buddy with no proof & lying he's away from him to cope. Straight up shitting on Jk's month's long hard work he put in to be with Jimin. The application process, the 5 week boot camp training where they were glued 24/7 & picking a harder unit on purpose just to enlist with Jimin. And his fans keep twisting it. So you are saying Jk picked the hardest unit to be a cook in? Braindead losers. ONLY Jk knows why he's cooking & for how long. Leg Injury, too stressful, or a choice doesn't matter, because regardless they are together every single day for the next 2 years & your lies won't change that. Seeing each other breakfast, lunch, dinner and at night in their shared living space. Stay mad.

Damn I hit my little toe trying to rush to the site

Link please and thank you

You doing the lords work

Namjoon's underarms can wait. I have more pressing needs atm😆

80 notes · View notes

casual-violinist-fangirl · 7 months ago

Text

All I can do to Keep you Safe is Hold You Close - 2,317 Words

A part of the collection I have fondly named 'Kaminoans are Assholes.'

Omega has been having trouble sleeping because of nightmares and her solution to that is to... not sleep. Hunter's Jango Fett gene has well and truly activated!

As always this fic is on my AO3 account here, and the link to my masterlist is here.

----------

The first time he had noticed something was wrong was when Omega started asking if she could drink caff in the mornings. Jokingly, Wrecker had let her have a sip of his, him and Echo laughing when they saw the expression on her face. She clearly hadn’t enjoyed the taste. When Tech had enquired as to why she had wanted to try the bitter drink, she had simply shrugged and said that there wasn’t really a reason.

That had been a lie.

Lying in front of Hunter was almost impossible; he could sense even the slightest of changes in a person’s body for crying out loud. To add to that, Omega was an awful liar, making it easy to spot from where he was sat. Glancing around the cabin, it didn’t seem as though any of the others had noticed this, although when he caught Crosshair’s eye he noticed an air of suspicion in his expression. He had noticed too.

The day had gone on as usual and Omega hadn’t asked any more about the caff… Hunter almost allowed himself to forget that she had even lied about wanting to drink it in the first place. She was a little girl, for crying out loud. She was full of energy and the last thing they needed was her pinging about the place before crashing in a heap when the affects ran out. That night, when he had put her to bed, tucking Lula and Trooper into her blankets with her, he had asked how she was. It had come out innocently enough, but clearly he had spooked her because almost straight away her barriers went up, and she was insisting that she was absolutely fine. Not knowing what to do if she didn’t want to talk to him, he had bid her goodnight and climbed back down the ladder from the gunner’s mount.

A week or so later it was becoming more and more apparent that Omega was exhausted. She kept falling asleep on missions at every opportunity she got to rest her legs, and it was getting to the point where Wrecker was having to carry her about. Sheer exhaustion rolled off of her in waves, and the rest of the batch were beginning to be more and more concerned for her wellbeing. She was their little sister… Hunter’s ad’ika (though he would never admit that to his brothers) she deserved to be happy and healthy like all little girls her age.

After one particular mission, Omega had collapsed in a heap in Cid’s bar; the loud music didn’t seem to bother her as she slept, drawing the attention of the Trandoshan.

“What’s with Tiny?” she asked, nodding her head towards the booth where she was resting. Hunter scowled, but that was more because he didn’t know the answer than because she was prying. He went to respond, but Tech stepped in.

“It would appear that Omega has… over done it on the past couple of missions,” he answered in a very reasonable tone. “She clearly needs to go to her bunk when we get back to the ship.”

Cid hadn’t said anything else following on from that, but Hunter could tell that she didn’t buy what Tech had told her, and that even she was concerned for the little girl. “Right…” she responded. “Well you see that she does get that sleep. I can’t have clients coming in thinking I let little kids pass out drunk in my bar.”

Omega had let Hunter scoop her up and carry her back to the ship, her head lolling on his shoulder as she wordlessly took in her surroundings. He had thought there and then that maybe he’d be able to get her into bed quickly when he got back to the Marauder…

He could not have been more wrong.

The moment he mentioned the ‘b’ word, Omega had perked up and started insisting that she wasn’t even remotely tired. “Can’t I just stay up for a little longer, Hunter?” she had asked, her big brown eyes trying to persuade him that he didn’t need to send her to bed. He had sighed, crossing his arms and trying to put on his best ‘dad’ face.

“You need sleep, Omega,” he reasoned as he reached into the gunner’s mount and pulled her pyjamas down. She pouted at him, and for a moment he was convinced that she was going to start crying.

“B-but…” she trailed, and Hunter could see an element of conflict on her features. She wanted to tell him something, he just knew it, but before she could get any words out Wrecker came parading into the room, a little tipsy. So much for talking to her.

"I’m sorry Omega,” he continued, watching her body deflate with disappointment. “I’m not budging on this one.”

She had gone to bed, but he had noticed how she tried to drag out every element of getting ready; she had taken nearly twenty minutes brushing her teeth for kriff’s sake. Looking back on that now, he should have seen just how reluctant she was to sleep and realised that something was wrong. He should have reached out to her.

Other abnormalities in her behaviour should have stuck out to him, and he found himself cursing for not noticing all of this sooner. Especially given what was about to come.

——

(Three Weeks Later)

There were plenty of times that Hunter cursed his enhanced hearing; being on a ship full of snorers when he was trying desperately to sleep was one of those times. As he lay in his bunk, all he could hear was the heavy breathing of Wrecker directly above him, and the light snores of Tech from his chair in the cockpit. He had ear buds for times like these, but whilst the noise irritated him to no end, not being able to hear made him feel vulnerable and he tried not to use them unless he absolutely had to.

Rolling over and resisting the urge to groan, he buried his face into the GAR standard issue pillow. It wasn’t exactly comfy, but being a solider meant that you had to be able to sleep anywhere. This lumpy pillow and hard bunk was a godsend compared to some of the situations he’d found himself in over the years. Distantly, he could hear the tapping of keys on some sort of device… it sounded a little like Crosshair’s data pad. Clearly he had joined Echo on watch then seeing as he couldn’t hear either of them anywhere else. They weren’t sleeping, that’s for sure.

Having Crosshair back had meant a little bit of adjusting for the members of the Bad Batch. For the first couple of days he had been incredibly isolated, not wanting to go near any of his brothers or even his little sister. Then, slowly, little by little he had started to integrate himself back into the lives of those who loved him. He had taken a shine to Omega, although he was loathed to show it to anyone except the little girl herself… now that Hunter thought about it, the only time he had seen Omega sleeping peacefully over the past few weeks was the morning she had been found in her bunk, clinging onto Crosshair’s sleeping form as though it was the only thing keeping her from floating out of the ship.

Hunter made a mental note to ask Crosshair about that in the morning, but his train of thoughts was cut off when he heard what sounded like a muted sob. Sitting bolt upright in bed and suddenly no longer tired, Hunter’s eyes darted around the room as he searched for the source of the sound. Not noticing anything out of the ordinary, he frowned, which deepened when he heard the sobbing sound a second time. Having been ready this time, he climbed out of bed and tiptoed towards the noise. Almost as though she could sense his presence, Omega’s snivels stopped as he reached the bottom of the ladder leading to her room.

“’Mega?” he asked quietly, not opening the curtain… he didn’t want to spook her or make her feel as though he was intruding on her space. There was silence for a moment before a quiet shuffling of blankets could be heard and a small hand reached to open the curtain.

Omega’s face was blotchy and red, her cheeks tear-stained and her eyes puffy from her crying; how had Hunter not noticed her sooner? He cursed to himself, making a mental note to be more aware in the future. “H-Hunter,” a small sob escaped her as she launched herself at him without hesitating and clung to his neck.

To his credit, Hunter reacted quickly; he carefully scooped Omega out of the gunners’ mount, cradling her trembling form as he wondered quietly back to his bunk and sat down. The little girl still clinging onto him, he stroked a hand through her hair and whispered soothing nothings to her as he waited for her cries to subside.

When her breathing eventually did even out and the sniffles came to a stop, she looked up at him with a bleary look on her face. Kriff, she looked exhausted. How long had she been going on like this?

“Ad’ika,” his voice croaked as he used the term for the first time. Omega’s eyes widened at the expression, and if he didn’t know better he was convinced that she pulled him just a little closer. “Have you been struggling to sleep?”

Bingo. He’d hit the nail on the head it seemed, as the little girl in his arms cried even more.

“E-every time I close my eyes,” she sobbed. “I see something different and it’s horrible…” she took a shuddering breath. “I’ve been trying to stay awake at night so that the nightmares don’t come.”

Hunter let out a shaky breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “You’ve gotta get sleep, ‘Mega,” he soothed as he kept stroking her hair.

“I’m so tired,” she mumbled as her tears slowly came to a stop, reduced to small hiccups now as she rested her head against his chest.

An idea occurred to him, something that he hadn’t done since he and his brothers were cadets, all cowering away and petrified of Nala se. “You could always stay here for the night,” he whispered, his suggestion catching her attention. She didn’t move to look at him but nodded, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her new pyjamas (Crosshair had insisted that she have sleeping clothes, though he wouldn’t say why he had become so interested). Shifting carefully, he set her down on the bunk next to him and went to put his back against the wall to make more space for her.

That clearly wasn’t what she’d had in mind as Omega frowned slightly and clambered over him, putting herself between him and the wall. Hunter let out a small chuff of laughter as he rolled over, letting the little girl get comfortable; by the time the pair of them had stopped fidgeting, Omega was curled into Hunter��s embrace, the arm he draped over her clutched to her chest as she hugged it like it was Lula. The sergeant was a little uncomfortable, but any thoughts of that melted away as Omega whispered something that only he could hear.

“Goodnight, buir.”

He just managed to choke back the sudden wave of emotion that washed over him. That was… unexpected. Clearing his throat, he smiled softly at the little girl in his arms.

“Goodnight, ad’ika.”

————

A week or so later Hunter was lying in bed, reading off of his holo pad. Omega’s nightmares hadn’t stopped, of course they hadn’t, but knowing that she could go to her buir when the nightmares arrived made them that much easier to cope with. It meant that he’d had to contend with having Omega, Lula and sometimes even Trooper in bed with him but if that was the price he had to pay for the girl’s comfort? So be it.

Speak of the devil, a sniffle to his right caught his attention and he looked up only to see that Omega had snuck out of her bunk and to his bed. She looked at him with pleading eyes for only a moment before he lifted his blanket.

“Come on,” he whispered, allowing her to climb into the bed and to her usual spot between her buir and the wall. Her head rested on his chest as he continued tapping at the holo pad; he had been doing some research into a new knife he’d had his eye on, but turned that off in favour of a mind-numbing game he knew Omega enjoyed watching him play. It was a game where you had to match three blocks of the same colour in order for them to disappear and for the items trapped at the top of the screen to reach the bottom.

He thought the little girl had drifted off to sleep, but was proven wrong when a small hand reached out and tapped three blocks on the screen. Letting out a small laugh at her antics, Hunter pressed a gentle kiss to the girls’ temple before the pair continued playing the game together, taking it in turns. He knew they’d both be tired in the morning but they had nothing planned for the day, a little lay-in wouldn’t hurt anyone. It was in moments like these that he allowed himself to make the most of the normality of it all, in the vain hope that one day he’d be able to give his little girl the childhood she deserved.

“Love you, buir.”

“Love you too, ‘Mega.”

Yeah, he could definitely put up with sharing his bunk with his kid and her toys if it meant that he got to have moments like these.

66 notes · View notes

feroluce · 6 months ago

Text

Belobog was my fave main quest but a lot of it is so. Contradictory. It's like they had multiple groups doing different shit and none of them checked in with each other for consistency. And you see this so much in Gepard's profile.

So in the main quest, they made him unfailingly, unquestionably loyal to Cocolia. Gepard's character arc is him learning to question authority etc etc. And this isn't even a bad thing; that's a story worth telling! It makes good conflict between him and Serval! And I love that we got Gepard as a boss battle and I get to see him all the time in SU!

But then you look at his character stories and it's like. The complete opposite.

According to his profile, Gepard has already HAD this awakening, long before the Astral Express, and he'd already decided Cocolia sucks. Even outside of his stories, there's a pretty damning readable between him and Pela.

He even disobeyed direct orders right in front of her- he has been disobeying orders for a while now!

So I've decided I'm marrying the two different sides of this into a 1.5k fic-ish thingy, because I think there's some fun potential there with Gepard not trusting Cocolia, but still having to pretend to be a good obedient little soldier.

Anyway. I love to think of it as like. Gepard knows Cocolia has sunk into her apathy. He can see it in her eyes every time he looks at her. She doesn't care. Not about him, not about Pela, not about all his soldiers on the frontlines giving their lives to protect the citizens. And that's... It makes him bristle a bit, but ok. Gepard can deal with this. Even if Cocolia no longer cares, as long as she does her job then it's fine. Having compassion behind an action doesn't matter as much as the action itself. If Cocolia's heart is no longer swayed, then he'll just have to care twice as hard to pick up the slack. He considers it part of his duty as a captain of the guard anyway. It's fine. Gepard can deal with it.

And then, Cocolia starts coming down to the restricted zone. Issuing direct orders.

And Gepard realizes he is in way over his head.

Because Cocolia orders him to stay back and issue commands from the ramparts, away from all his comrades, away from where he can protect them.

Gepard had thought nothing could be as bad as watching a fellow guard die right next to him. But the first time he watches someone struck by a killing blow, so far away, it hurts. Every defensive scar across his arms itches, his fingers curl in want of a weapon, the cold cannot numb his hands enough as they desperately ache for his shield. It hurts.

Gepard tries to find any reason to stay. Because surely... He knows Cocolia has lost her love for her people, but surely... She wouldn't...

One day, Cocolia orders for their gunners to advance 20 yards. There are no survivors. She almost looks like she smiles.

Gepard doesn't sleep that night.

Pela brings him the report at the end of the first month; and then the month after that, and the month after that. A significant uptick in losses, and all of it started on that first day Cocolia started overriding his authority and issuing her own orders. The ends of Gepard's pens have all been nearly chewed off. Pela outright calls Cocolia an idiot, and Gepard corrects her. Cocolia isn't an idiot. Gepard had known her through Serval, knew her through all her college years and then some, and he knows how intelligent she is. It's not that she's stupid, and it's not that she's inexperienced, it's nothing of the sort.

Cocolia knows exactly what she's doing.

She must, there's no way she could make such a horrible mess of things so badly by accident. And Pela, quick as a whip, sharp as a tack, always too smart for her own good, catches onto the meaning behind Gepard's correction without any further prompting. The tent goes deathly quiet, nothing but the wind howling outside.

"...She's trying to kill us," Pela whispers, her voice swiftly suffocated by the silence.

Gepard swallows. He can't bring himself to correct her this time. There is nothing he could say that he would actually mean.

His gaze drops, back down to his desk and the reports on it. The names aren't listed, just the numbers, but Gepard knows them, knew them, and there must be something wrong, something he's missing, because why, why would she-? What could this possibly accomplish-?

“Gepard! Focus!” Something snaps right under his nose, and Gepard startles, eyes instantly honing in on Pela's irritated face as she leans over his desk. She holds his gaze for a moment before she huffs and begins to pace, wedges a knuckle between her teeth and bites like Gepard hasn't seen her do since cadet school.

Pela angrily strides from one end of his tent to the other, words hissed between her grit teeth. “What are we going to do?” In the dim lighting, Gepard can just barely see the damp spot of blood weeping under her gloves. “We need a plan.”

“A plan?”

“Wh- Yes, a plan! Unless you want more people to die!” Pela rounds on him then, all the wrath of a blizzard, winds roaring and snow sharp enough to cut.

“We don't even know-”

“What does it matter?! She killed-!!” Pela cuts off with a garbled noise when Gepard leaps up from his desk, hastily shoves his hand over her mouth. The prosthetic, not the flesh one, because he knows better than to assume Pela won't seize the opportunity to leave teeth marks in his skin.

“You're right. I'm sorry, I'm sorry; you're right. But you need to keep quiet.” Pela quirks an eyebrow at him and Gepard can read the question in her face. “Because we both saw what she did to Serval,” he hisses.

It's amazing the snow plains haven't thawed out yet, the amount of heat Pela can put behind a glare. The mere mention of Serval, and the smoking ruins Cocolia had made of her life and career, have her bristling up like a riled cat. The sudden hot breath she takes fans fog across his metal skin, and Gepard wisely keeps it in place until Pela finally sighs and reaches up, taps her fingertips against the back of his hand.

The second she's free, Pela bats him away and then her knuckle is right back between her teeth again, Gepard leaning back against his desk with his arms crossed to watch her resume her pacing. “If we spread the word, she'll have us discharged and make sure we can't even touch the frontlines,” Pela's voice seethes like an open sore. Gepard nods but keeps his silence. He knows better than to get in her way.

“And if you and I are both out of the picture, Belobog is fucked.” A little harsher than how he would have put it, but there's no denying that they're both important to the city's survival. Pela has the restricted zone running as efficiently as ever, and Gepard had become the youngest captain on record for a reason. “We need to keep this tight under wraps, at least for now… It can't leak to anyone higher up the chain.” Another nod. “Serval might know other discontents…” Another n-

Gepard's head snaps up. “No.”

“No what?”

“No. We're not involving Serval in this.”

Somehow, even the same tone that leaves entire squadrons shaking in their boots has never worked on her. “You're not deciding that for her, Gepard.”

Pela hadn't seen the worst of it, though, back when his sister had just been banned from the Architects. Serval's pride hadn't allowed it. Pela wasn't the one to find her passed out bottle still in hand, hadn't been the one to wash the sick out of her hair or carry her to bed.

Serval still has trouble thinking clearly when it comes to Cocolia, still can't quite bring herself to be objective. And Gepard maybe doesn't want her to be purely objective- but he would worry a lot less if she thought twice before she acted more often.

“At least let me be the one to bring it up to her.”

“Whatever, fine,” Pela gestures affirmatively at him as she paces past, and Gepard sighs. Good, at least that's one thing he can help.

From there, it's a lot of hemming and hawing and frustration. Cocolia has them under her boot, and Gepard and Pela both know it. Even with the way she's been cracking down on freedoms lately, Cocolia is still, overall, liked by the people. It's unlikely anyone would believe them. They don't even have solid proof, because most people don't know Cocolia as well as they do and won't see the clues in the same light.

The Fragmentum has been ramping up in recent years, too. Everyone is struggling just to survive as is, they can't afford a fight on two fronts. Gepard is a damn good captain, one of the best for that matter. But they're at a massive disadvantage, his experience is narrowed to fighting a defensive battle against monsters, that's all he's ever done. That's all anyone there has ever done. He has no way of finding first-hand knowledge for taking the offensive against a human opponent, and if he goes at this blind, there's no way he'll get everyone out unscathed. He's going to lose people. He's going to lose a lot of people.

He'd never thought before that Cocolia would have it in her to have someone killed. And with this new knowledge, he has no guarantee she won't go after Serval or Lynx if she decides to retaliate.

Gepard has to remind himself to breathe when he realizes this.

Pela writes down every name the two of them can come up with. Lists and lists of names and groups and anyone they can think of who might be an ally in all of this. They memorize every bit of it, make their plans of who to talk to and when. Gepard watches the sparks reflect off Pela's glasses as they burn the evidence together.

Pela finally leaves, far too late to make it home, but says she wants to stay in the restricted zone anyway to investigate. Gepard watches her make her way in the direction of Dunn's tent, watches her back until she's out of his sight and squashes down the urge to follow and keep an eye on her. His tent feels empty.

In the morning, Gepard is up before the wake up bells. He drags himself out of bed, leads his soldiers through their morning training. The same people gravitate to each other everyday. Friend groups and training partners. There's an ongoing rivalry between a few squadrons that everyone bets on. Some of them have lockets around their necks, keepsakes, mementos. Some of them wear wedding rings.

Gepard is suddenly, painfully aware of something acidic clawing at the inside of his throat, of a heavy weight low in his chest that blooms, takes up room until it threatens to spread his ribs. His mouth tastes of bile and blood.

He rearranges the schedules. Puts himself down for every open patrol into the Fragmentum, makes sure he'll be on the frontlines every single time Cocolia visits.

He only hopes that it's enough.

#honkai star rail #gepard landau #hsr gepard #pelageya sergeyevna #hsr pela #hsr #smacking Gepard out of Hoyo's hands and running off with him skzjmdkd #tentatively Figuring Out how to write these two... It feels a little tricky starting out with extreme circumstances like this haha #I feel like a lot of people see Gepard as naive for trusting Cocolia so much but I don't think that's quite it. He's not stupid.#He's not even naive.#He's someone who has been groomed since birth by his own parents to be an obedient Guard and nothing outside of that role.#You are not immune to propaganda etc etc #But even then there are a lot of things like all the included screenshots where he. Doesn't actually seem to like/trust Cocolia much.#I think Serval was a really good influence on him as a kid. He might have turned out much much worse without her.#and even with how I've written him here. I don't think he's normally slow to act or one to stand aside and make other people lead.#it's just that this specifically was a pretty extreme circumstance for him.#and also he openly states elsewhere that Pela is overbearing and he tries not to interfere with her work whenever possible nskzhdjdjd #Pela too. I don't know that I normally see her as someone with a bad temper or quick to anger.#But again; extreme circumstances haha #Bc like. they both would have seen what happened to Serval when she stood up to Cocolia. they know damn well what's going to happen to them.#if they fuck this up and get caught then they're done.#and I mean. What are they supposed to do? they're two people against the highest authority of the entire nation.#regardless I do love Gepard agonizing over this in the future after Bronya takes over and everything has settled down #did he do the right thing? did he make the right choice? if he went vigilante how many soldiers would have died without his protection?#would Belobog have fallen completely? how many people died because he DIDN'T run away? was it actually enough?#I love characters forced between a rock and a hard place. no good options. pick your poison.#no winning- only weighing what you can and cannot bear to lose.#make your choice and decide whether you want to rot or to burn.

66 notes · View notes

kybercrystals94 · 1 month ago

Text

Sounds in the Night

Read here on Ao3!

Whumptober 2024 - Day 14 - Alternate Prompt: Regrets

Rated: G | Words: 891

Something wakes him from the deepest sleep he can ever remember having the sheer joy of experiencing. At first, it annoys him, then it infuriates him. The depths of his unconsciousness had been unprecedentedly peaceful somehow. And someone has the audacity to wake him up. What is so kriffing important that it can’t wait five more minutes?

“What, what?” he growls out, covering his face with both hands.

“I’m scared,” a little voice trembles in his ear.

Fury evaporates; however, the damage is already done. When he turns his head to look at his sister, she looks on the verge of tears, wide eyes glittering in the dim light of the night cycle.

“Omega?” Hunter whispers.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have woken you up,” she says.

Hunter sits up on his elbows. “No, kid, don’t be sorry. I just thought you were Wrecker.”

A startled grin breaks across Omega’s face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Hunter says with a chuckle. “He used to wake me up every night to grab Lula for him when he’d drop her from the upper bunk. That’s why we started making him keep her on Kamino.”

The smile lingers but quivers at the edges as it starts to falter.

Hunter sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bunk, then pats the space next to him. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re scared of?”

Omega sits down next to him, and blinks up at him in surprise when he drapes the GAR issue blanket over her shoulders. She draws it closer to herself, clutching at it with fists under her chin. “Thank you,” she whispers, but doesn’t say anything else.

Hunter waits, listening to Omega’s heart rate change from a frantic patter to its normal, at rest pace. It reminds him of Crosshair’s heartbeat after he had a nightmare back on Kamino when they were cadets, when his brother would slip into Hunter’s bunk without a word passed between them. Comfort in presence alone.

“I know we’re on a ship,” Omega says after a long while, “and that we are in hyperspace…but I thought I heard a creature.”

“A creature?” Hunter asks, thinking of the vermin that sometimes find their way aboard when they’re planet side.

“Like the Ordo Moon Dragon,” Omega clarifies.

Hunter chuckles. “I think we’d know if that sorta thing snuck on board, kid.”

“I know,” Omega says. “But…I heard weird breathing.”

“Snoring?” Hunter asks. “We’ve got a few brothers guilty of that.”

Omega wrinkles her nose. “No, it was like a sniffing sound.”

“Hmm,” Hunter hums thoughtfully.

“Could you just…check for me? Just in case?”

“Check for monsters?”

Omega nods. “Like in the hatch?”

Hunter hesitates, weighing his options. He knows, and he knows Omega knows, that there can’t really be anything Ordo Moon Dragon-like up in the hatch. Climbing up there to “check” is a waste of time. And yet, Hunter finds himself pushing himself to his feet. “Sure, kid. I’ll check the hatch.”

“And the gunner’s mount? And the fresher?”

“Yeah, kid, I’ll check.” And he does. He pulls himself up into the hatch, glances around long enough for Omega to believe he checked, then he peeks into the gunner’s mount and the tiny closet they made into a fresher when they first acquired the Marauder.

Omega is still perched on the edge of the bunk when he returns, his blanket still swaddled around her.

“All clear, kid,” he tells her.

“Are you sure?” she asks.

Hunter nods. “Very.”

Omega glances toward the back of the ship where the gunner’s mount is. “Can I sleep here with you tonight?” she asks, her voice small, almost as though she hopes Hunter won’t hear her. But of course he does.

“Is something else scaring you?” Hunter asks, dropping back down beside her.

Omega shrugs her shoulders. “I have bad dreams sometimes. About Kamino. About being alone. Sometimes I wake up and I forget that I’m not anymore.”

Hunter smiles softly. “I suppose this bunk can fit a soldier and a half.”

A gasp of joy escapes Omega’s lungs. She clambers up into the bunk, positioning herself between the wall and where Hunter will lay. Just like his brothers always used to do when they’d hide from storms as cadets. Hunter had always felt proud that his brothers believed they were safe with him between them and whatever fears lurked out of sight and reach.

If only that were true.

And if the past few weeks on the run from the Empire had taught Hunter anything, it was that they weren’t invincible afterall, that some fears are tangible dangers, and he has no power to stand between them and his siblings. Not anymore. Or maybe never at all, and it has always been an illusion.

He knows that, and his brothers know that.

But right now, as he lays down next to his baby sister, she believes it might be true. That as long as Hunter is by her side, he can keep his promise. That he’ll protect her, that she’ll always be with them.

But as her breaths even out, the gentle inhales and exhales of sleep, Hunter lies wide awake.

He hopes that he can make the illusion real, that he can stand between the galaxy and her.

But hope can only hold for so long.

END

Let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list!

Tag List: @followthepurrgil @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @groguandthebadbatch @proteatook @ezras-left-thumb @maeashryver @baddest-batchers @laughhardrunfastbekindsblog @omegafett99 @heidnspeak @fionas-frenzy @dreamsight73 @royallykt @merkitty49 @blackseafoam

#whumptober2024 #no.14 #altprompt #regrets #Star Wars: the Bad Batch #fic #emotional whump #tbb hunter #tbb omega #season 1 #soft hunter #nightmares

48 notes · View notes