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alcoh0lica · 3 days ago

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GUILTY AS SIN

￫ summary: you lost in Silent Hill and found a pretty handsome guy, James Sunderland.

￫ word count: 3.5K.

￫ warnings: kisses, good feelings, bad words and fluff.

￫ authors notes: I ended up getting inspired by some imagines from @decay-1, @kiyokowastaken and @theawfuledges. Hope u liked!

*** I can't believe I'm here. What did I come to do in this decaying, foggy city? If it weren't for that letter... The letter. Then I remember the real reason I ended up here. A 3-hour trip because of a damn letter I received from my sister. From my dead sister.

3 years ago we came to Silent Hill to get some stupid documents of hers that she had forgotten in that hotel... What's his name again?

It turns out that on the way back we were arguing about something, it had to do with our house and our parents, her going to college and her leaving me alone with those two crazy people who only got into trouble. Well, our family relationship was quite the opposite: daughters take care of their parents. Funny, isn't it?

At first it was just an argument with silly accusations, but suddenly something changed... the mood got heavier and the fight started to get really serious. She was yelling at me, wishing she had never had a sister, blaming me for our mother going crazy. “It was because of your birth, you know, the doctors did something and she freaked out,” she said. All I know is that the fog started to form right in front of us and it started to get thick, almost as if you could cut it with a knife. That's when everything changed. Someone appeared, a creature that was just skin... but what nonsense, that doesn't exist. A person appeared in front of the car and she didn't see it, I turned the steering wheel so as not to kill whatever was there and then...

Then the car fell into an abyss. It fell several meters and flipped over, spinning and spinning and spinning. I woke up a week later in the hospital with the news that my sister had died. And it was all my fault. I started the argument and I pulled the steering wheel. If I had stayed quiet and let her run over that thing on the road, she would still be here. Marina would still be here and I wouldn't have to face the looks of disappointment and unspoken hatred from my parents, who silently blamed me for the accident.

And then, just as I'm about to leave all this behind, I get a letter from Marina calling me to Silent Hill, saying she's waiting for me at our special place, the one we used to go to on vacation when we were kids. It was crazy, of course it was crazy! How could a dead person send a letter? It was a bad joke, from some unfortunate friend of mine. But if I was so sure of that, why was I here? Why did I come back to Silent Hill?

***

I don't know how many hours have passed or how many days I've been here. I'm covered in the blood of creatures that I can't even explain what they are and so far there's no sign of Marina. I think I'm starting to go crazy. I just killed a creature that was just skin and legs, no arms, that crawled on the ground and vomited acid, or whatever it was. It almost got on my skin. The fog started to get thick again and I don't even know where I am anymore. I just passed Toluca Lake and I'm in the middle of the city. Luckily, I managed to get an axe from one of those shops where bearded lumberjacks wear red flannel. I better run.

As I turn a corner, my first reaction is to raise the axe as high as I can and prepare for a sure blow, but... it's not a creature. It's a... man. A tall, blond man, with a green jacket and blue-gray eyes. He looked to be in his 30s and very tired. He stops a few steps away from me, with a gun in his hands - which was previously pointed at me and is now above his head, telling me that everything is fine. But still, I can't lower the axe, which covers half of my face.

"H-hi... I'm James..."

I can't find the words to answer him, my voice simply won't come out. Could it be my imagination? How can there be another human being here? He looks at me with astonishment, amazed, but with a certain... admiration? That's what I can see in those eyes.

“DOWN”

He yells as he points the gun at me again. But not at my body, but at what’s behind me. Again, that skin creature. The bullet hits its shoulder, destabilizing the creature. I seize the chance, stand up and swing my axe at the chest of that horrible thing. Once on the ground, I aim for its head and split it in two. I didn’t even realize that the guy... James, was right behind me.

“Nice shot” - he says and I turn to face him.

“Are you... real?”

“Yes... yes, I’m real.”

It seems like a stupid question, but he doesn’t let it show on his face. He just answers me with a smile in his eyes. But still... still I can’t help but believe that he’s a figment of my imagination. I barely notice when I’m close enough to him to smell sweat and woody perfume. My hands slowly reach his face and I gently place my palm on his stubble, feeling the texture and warmth that he exudes. To my surprise, he doesn't react. He just stands there, looking at me and letting this complete stranger touched him. The strangest thing is that he… liked it. When he felt my touch, he closed his eyes and let the weight of his face fall on my hands. It seemed like he hadn't known what this was for a long time. What was a touch, a gesture of affection. I quickly took my hand off his face, realizing what I had just done.

“Sorry.”

“It's okay. See, I told you it was real.”

“Yeah… you are…” – we stood there staring at each other for a few seconds but it felt like an eternity. There was something in those ocean-blue eyes that hypnotized me. He snapped me out of my trance.

“What are you doing here?”

“I'm looking for my sister – DEAD,” I added in my thoughts. He didn't need to know that I was half crazy with ideas. – “and you”?

“I'm looking for my wife… dead. No… look at me like that, I'm not crazy! I got a letter from her telling me to come here and find her, but it's been 3 years since…”

“Since she died…” – I added for him. Contrary to what he imagined, my expression of astonishment wasn't because he was looking for his dead wife, but rather… because of our compatible history. There was something wrong in this city… Something that drew us here. He kept looking me up and down, but without saying a word. “I believe you, James.”

“That cut must be bad,” he said, looking at my belly, where there was a blood stain over a tear. A guy with a pyramid head showed up and did that…

“No worse than the one on your face,” – a red mark with dried blood accumulated on his right cheek. This provocation drew a shy laugh from his lips.

I heard more footsteps and, automatically, I put myself in front of him – something in that pathetic expression of his made me want to protect him. I raised my axe, but he pulled me back, by the waist. It was a woman… Marina? It was… my sister!

“Marina?” - I whispered...

“James, I found you, I was looking for you, my dear… who is this little thing?” – she looked me up and down. My God, she is just like my sister, but at the same time she is different from her. She came and grabbed James.

“Little thing?” – even the way she spoke…

“Mary, this is…” – he looks at me and realizes that I never introduced myself, we just stood there lost in each other’s eyes.

“Sydney. Sydney Redfield.”

“Nice to meet you… Who is Marina? Anyway, it’s starting to get dark and I’m a little cold. Can we go, please?”

“Sure… are you coming?” – he says looking at me. But the question seems more like a command, you’re coming with me. I just nodded, feeling the letter from my sister in my pocket burn.

We walked a few more meters and, JESUS, this Mary was unbearable. The way she wouldn't stop chattering and kept bumping her hand into James's, finding a reason to touch him. Seriously, it was desperate. Just like my sister when she wanted to get a boy's attention. It was annoying me, but I couldn't say why. Sometimes I would glance at her out of the corner of my eye, but all I could see was James studying me.

We stopped on a street so he could look at that stupid map of the city again, until I saw a flower shop across the street. Everything was so calm, quiet and fog-free, that I just walked over there. I didn't expect to find so many flowers still alive in a place like this. But there was one there, almost purposefully placed in the middle of the table and alive, one that reminded me of a date… November 29th… my birthday. Hydrangeas that Marina had given me. I put my fingers to it, I needed to see if they were really real. There were colors, shapes and textures proving their truth there, haunting me and reactivating part of the story I wanted to forget. I didn't even see James coming in and looking at me.

“Syd… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Or take you out of your own… world.”

“It's okay” – that same goofy look – “I'm glad you did.” He came closer and touched the flowers that were there, but with a little more force than necessary, making them bloom. He looked sad… more than usual for him.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have touched… it seems like everything I touch… dies.”

Without thinking much about it, I took his hand and guided it to another bouquet that was there, gently placing his fingers on the petals.

“Don't stoop so low, James… you just need a little more delicacy and patience.” – When I looked up, he was there, just standing there looking at me with those eyes and, once again, time stopped! We stood there for seconds that seemed like hours. My God, what was it about this man that made me so paralyzed?

An electric current ran through James's body the moment I touched him. He shivered and closed his eyes, breathing a little harder through his nose. Trying to stay calm. But of course, we had to leave, so Mary shouted from outside that she was cold and wanted to go to the hotel right away, breaking us out of our hypnotic trance again. He blushed, cleared his throat and said, "I found a way to the Lakeview Hotel… we better get going."

He left the store and I was right behind him.

Lakeview Hotel… So that was the name of the hotel my sister had left the documents for. We found three keys on the counter, one room next to the other. James in the middle. Again, something that seemed intentional. But anyway, it was so good to enter that place and realize that there were no monsters or fog. Just a bed and a shower… that magically worked.

I cleaned most of the blood off my body, half of it not being mine, and decided to go out to look for… I don't know, supplies or bandages. That's when I saw Mary throwing herself at James again, they didn't even notice my presence there behind them… I just left them alone and went into all the rooms, digging up a beautiful first aid kit.

There was a little staircase and a little door too, which led to the roof. And God, what a beautiful view of the starry sky. Now everything was clearer and almost fog-free. The lack of power in the city left the stars and the light reflecting strongly on my skin. I just took the opportunity to lie down on the roof and look up… a breather amidst all the chaos outside.

“Ah… there you are, thank God” – James appeared on the roof, looking relieved to have found me – “I looked for you in all the rooms and couldn’t find you, I was… worried”. – he climbed up on the roof and sat next to me.

“Do you and Mary have something?” – I don’t know why I asked that, it just came out of my mouth like bullets from a revolver. Even I was surprised by the question I asked… He also seemed surprised.

“With Mary? No… She’s just a friend I found…” – he was still analyzing me with those eyes… I just wanted to know what was going on in that head. A desire to use my axe to open his skull and unravel his brain, unraveling every part of his troubled soul…

I was looking at him too. I was going to say something, but a hallucinating pain knocked me out of orbit. It was a tearing pain, as if an axe had been stuck in my skin and ripped half of it off. Which was what had actually happened, but I no longer remembered it. A groan left my mouth, followed by my hands going to my belly. James looked scared. He came closer to me.

“Can I take a look… at this wound?” – he seemed doubtful about his own ability to take care of someone. But I didn’t have much of a choice. I sat up with difficulty and lifted my shirt, exposing my belly and the cut… ugly, very ugly.

He came closer. He sat with one leg bent behind my back and the other open, underneath my bent legs. Again, I smelled that woody smell – only stronger. An intoxicating smell that took me out of orbit. Gently, he dipped the corner of a faded towel in cachaça and passed it over my wound. I couldn’t help but groan, but I added a “see, you can be gentle” between breaths cut off by the pain. This seemed to amuse him, after all I saw a hint of a smile.

For some reason, we were whispering, as if we were telling each other our dirtiest secrets.

“Okay. I think you can hold on until we get out of this hell and I… take you to a hospital.” – Wow, did he really care about me that much? He took care of me, he took care of my wound. Now it was my turn.

“Your turn… come here” – he was a little startled, but didn’t react. I held his face with one hand and, with the other, I wiped the dried blood from his cheek.

Once again, he seemed to let himself be carried away by the touch. He closed his eyes and I felt his breathing change, becoming faster and his pulse stronger.

It wasn’t hard to put the pieces together: a man who hadn’t seen his wife in three years… but could it be that he hadn’t seen any woman at all? How could just one touch be able to turn him off? Anyway, I looked at his face and wow, he was handsome. He was a little over 30, but he still looked young. His eyes were tired and there were red circles under the skin, his lips were dry, but they looked soft.

What was he doing to me? I had only known him for a few hours, but I felt a huge need to have him for myself, just for me… to feel his skin on mine, his lips on mine, him filling my entire being. I noticed that my breathing was also accelerated.

And now, we were staring at each other. And this time there was nothing and no one to stop me.

Without thinking much, I just kissed him. I felt his warm lips on mine.

Suddenly, a hand on the back of my neck pulled me to deepen the act we had begun. Our tongues danced in sync and our heartbeats were rhythmic. Out of breath, we pulled away and I could see in his eyes doubts about what had happened and guilt…

Guilt for a sin that was not his. It was mine. Once again, it was my fault. But this time, I didn't care one bit. I would bear this guilt to my grave.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have kissed you, you're married, you're after your wife, everything is so crazy, I don't know what got into me, I s… – I was silenced by another kiss. This time, led by him.

“Don't worry, it's okay.”

“Why do you act like this?” – again the question escaped without me even thinking about it.

“Like… how?” – confused… goofy look… I think I'm starting to fall in love with goofy men.

“Like… as if you've never been touched before. I just slide my hands over your face, and you switch off, surrendering to your world of thoughts.” – I leaned against him to prove my point, but this time, he kept his eyes wide open, looking at me. He grabbed my wrist and brought it to his mouth, leaving a kiss on it.

“I guess I'm not used to this… being taken care of… being… loved.” That broke my heart. Three years without a wife, who knows how he relieved himself or with whom. Mary definitely didn't captivate him, so…

“Why me? Why do you only act like this with me?”

“I don't know… you give me peace, around you I feel like I can be myself. I feel like there are no judgments or resentments. There is no fear or pain. There is only you in front of me, no fog and no monsters. If this is my personal hell… I guess you are my paradise.” – he declared this in one fell swoop, catching me off guard. I could still see guilt for his confused feelings, for his wife and everything else. But it was a sincere feeling.

“James…” – I pulled him onto my lap, made him lie on my thighs and he… cried. He cried for the death of his wife Maria, he cried for Mary, he cried for me, he cried for every damn animal in this city. He cried and I just stayed there, taking care of him, running my hand through his blond hair and telling him that everything was going to be okay.

He confessed his dark sins to me and I confessed mine to him.

There we made a pact that no matter what happened in that city, whether we found our relatives alive or not, we would leave together. We would live together, each one broken in their own way trying to fix themselves.

We spent the night together, in his room. He confessed that he hadn't been able to sleep well for a while and asked me to sleep with him. So I did. He hugged me, as if I were going to run away. He held me in his arms, preventing me from running away. And he slept. He slept, snored and dreamed of his Maria. Just like me, who slept peacefully for the first time in 3 years and dreamed of Marina.

And my dream was yet another revelation.

It wasn't my fault. I wasn't the one who caused the accident. It was Marina.

She had decided to steal a medal from a hospital. A haunted medal. She also tampered with the car, said that the fan chain had broken and decided to change it herself, without any technical knowledge of mechanics. I tried to save us, but she tried to kill herself. She even told me that she wanted to die. That she wanted to die and let me live a free life. A flash came to my mind, revealing that while we were upside down in the car, she told me a secret: he turned the steering wheel towards the abyss, she tried to kill herself and take me with her, but she was happy that I was alive. That's how she died.

I woke up sweaty and shaking.

The sun was streaming in through the broken window. James was still hugging me. Mary was at the door of our room, looking around with doubts about what was happening. She didn't look anything like Marina. The room was different. It was normal, without that rotten smell and without the blackened blood of someone who had died there.

It was then that I understood. Guilt was a sin. A sin that attracted people to Silent Hill to die. Or to heal, as in my case. I understood that my guilt was not a sin. Now I needed to help James understand the same. I needed to show him that there was a way out.

He needed me.

And I needed him.

#imagines #fluff imagine #imagine #one shot #james sunderland #silent hill #luke roberts #x reader #fluff #angst with a happy ending #love #take care of each other #hipnotic #i want him #i want him so bad #i need him #i need that man so bad

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thedepthsoffandomminds · 10 months ago

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Maze Runner chapter thirty. Final

Previous chapter

Masterlist

Thomas awakens to a cool breeze blowing through a tent. Clear sunlight beams through.

There is still pain in his stomach when he sits up but the gun wound is mostly healed. Thomas stands up and makes his way out of the tent seeing the beach in front of him. His breath catches in his throat when he looks out across the peaceful scene.

“Is this it?” He asks himself. He can see Minho not too far away and walks toward him. All around people are working and still setting things up but it already looks like a home. Minho walks up to him and the two embrace each other.

“Where's…where's y/n did she-?”

“Yeah, yeah they're over here.” He turns and sees you. Newt is helping you down the slope. He rushes to you both and pulls both of you into a hug. You wince at the pressure on your shoulder. And Mai Mai nudges at his waist. Thomas gave the tiger a good scratch behind her ears and laughed.

“We did it.” He breathes out. He turns and hugs Frypan and Brenda as well. Gally shakes his hand and shows Thomas over to where they had been sitting.

“I can't believe we're here,” He said to you.

“Almost wasn't” you shrug. Thomas brings his eyebrows in together silently asking for clarification.

“If you hadn't given us the serum…” Newt trailed off as Thomas nodded remembering the last moments before he passed out.

As the group chatted, Vince wandered over, his blonde hair tied back behind his head in a ponytail.

“How are we doing?” He asked you all and everyone nodded, “and you y/n, you feeling okay, both of you?” He asks pointedly looking at your stomach.

“Yeah, yeah we're good. Thank you Vince.” You reply.

“Excellent, good to see you properly awake, Tomas.” He claps Thomas's shoulder before walking away.

“Um, both?” Thomas asks, and Newt smiles.

“Yeah,” he puts his hand on your stomach and kisses your cheek.

“How long have I been out?” Thomas asks amused.

“A month, well six weeks, on and off.” Frypan announces with a chuckle.

“Good to have you back, man.” Minho says and you all laugh.

That evening just before sundown Vince called all the survivors together. You sat in your group with Aria, Sonya and Harriet not too far away.

“We have come a long way together.” Vince began, “ So many have sacrificed so much to make this place possible, Your friends and your family. So here's to the ones who couldn't be here. Here's to the friends we lost. This place is for you. It's for all of us. But this, this is for them.” He tapped the big stone behind him with the edge of his knife, “So, in your own time, in your own way, come make your peace. And welcome to the Safe Haven.”

A wave of happiness crashed through you all and the crowd erupted into cheers

“Yeah!”

Thomas looked at you.

“We made it.” He said.

“Yeah we did and now we can live an actual life.” You say to him and flick your eyes across to Brenda who sat only a few people in front of you with Jorge.

Thomas smiled to himself as he looked at her.

Maybe he could be as happy as his friends were, as you and Newt were. He looked at you once more, seeing the way your bright eyes still held tiny black marks around the edges. On your unclothed arm the bite was now a fading scar that matched Newt's. Thomas knew, of course there were scars on both of you that no one could see, but this was a beautiful place to work through them. Paying no attention to him, Newt reached over, cupping your jawline with his hand and pressing a kiss to your smiling lips.

This, this was what they were fighting for and you finally had it.

Thank you all for reading! Leave me comments or pop over to my request.

See you in the next one 💜

@fandomfan-102 @deanstolemydragon @afalls14universe @akilaporu001 @green-which

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29daffodils · 28 days ago

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Bison being that young won't work because he is a hired assassin who is tired of the job so he should be a bit older for that role atleast 22. Kant being 29-30 is the only way too cause first looks only that age even the maximum he could play is 33 but since he's got a brother to look after he should be young too. If they had a big age gap they wouldn't have connected with the shared passion for freedom and love which is the reason they are falling in love. 24&29 was perfect. In the novel they are both the same age and i was relieved when I heard Kant is 29.

ask #20 : the bikant age gap

p.s. : this got long and since nani told me my posts are long, which they are, haha, i decided to put everything under a cut after writing it all out. cheers.

hellow, anon.

with all due respect, I'm suicidal and feeling like shit right now so I can't make sense of whether the tone in your ask is hostile and if i should be prepared to run/fight.

with that said, sometimes i think we should be able to kiss logic goodbye when consuming fiction. and that's really the perk of it being fiction. if you're so trapped in your head and consumed by logic, or it's lack thereof, i'd refer you something non-fiction. ultimately it all comes down to taste and if the 16-33 age gap doesn't float your boat, that's fine. it does for someone else.

let me now address some of the points you've raised, and how i think they can still fit in a romcom fictional novel about an assassin/tattooist falling in love :

1) bison being that young, won't work. he is tired of the job. he should be at least 22.

i think we have seen very little of what bison could be, both from the trailer and the first ep. can a 22-yo bison be a better assassin than a 16-yo bison? who knows, except nong bison. you don't get a lot of muscle when you are 16, so you can't kick down people while hanging from.... what.... a curtain rail? i admit that. you will physically not have that power. but we have already seen some of bison's MO : seducing creepy older men. and i think, if we are being realistic here, because clearly that is your aim, then a 16-yo bison is a perfect bait. so far we haven't seen him use a knife, but i assume he does later, from the fit pics we got. then he must have a gun, maybe not on him — not that easy to hide stuff when you're undressing, is it? but there's plenty of ways you can kill someone in a fictional world when you're a 16-yo bait.

except, that's why fadel is there. he plays a convincing older brother, he brings out the guns.

now, can a 16-yo be tired of a job? eh, i believe you can. a hired assassin? who is hiring them? their mother? makes me wonder about a lot of things and how long they've been doing this. i think, if you've been doing a job long enough - and it varies from person to person - you can still be wrung out at 16.

2) kant being 29-30 is the only way because first looks that age.

sure he does. but i think hair and make-up and his stellar acting can make sure that he can play a convincing 35-yo too.

3) but since he's got a brother, he should be young too.

anon, realistically i have seen people from our (millenials) generations having siblings who are 15 years younger. humans, you see, come in different shapes and sizes and with different.... feelings. sometimes you decide to fuck and give your 16-yo a sibling. 🤷🏽‍♀️

4) if they had a big age-gap, they wouldn't have connected because of the shared passion for freedom and love.

let me tell you something about ages, in real life, and human connections.

my bestie and i were 15 when she used to write poetry and found a friend in a divorced man aged-40-something. they talked about poems and life and shit. it was incredibly cringe to me at that time. i thought she was falling in love with him. fun fact is i used to snoop on her because i was afraid he was grooming her. never found anything and we had a huge fight about suspecting some dude because "i was jealous". over the years they lost touch because whatever platform they were both writing and chatting (good lord, via comments, must i say. their entire fucking conversation was through comments).

so, anon, i dunno what kinda people you've met, to think that people with big age gaps cannot have meaningful relationships with each other with the "shared passion for love and freedom", but i gave you an example. maybe you should think about that.

5) 24-29 is perfect. also the fact that you were relieved when they made kant 29.

do i agree with canon age-gap? hell yeah. i think 24-29 is a good one for the story jojo is trying to tell.

do i also think this could have been done with 19-29, also yes. but clearly jojo isn't looking to tell that story, yes? which is why we have fanfiction authors.

jojo's story about kant and bison does not involve the complicated dynamics of a large age-gap or finding a friend in a much older person or falling for someone who is probably your sibling's age. i think we have a lot of stories for that, and jojo's silly mafia romcom is definitely not it.

and also about you being relieved when they made kant 29.

anon. i think you need to take deep breaths and think on why you care so much about a non-existent character played by an excellent actor.

i also think, you should definitely reevaluate why you got that feeling. i will not put my words in your mouth, but there's this thing : love doesn't always involve a person immediately wanting to have sex with them. romantic attraction is real.

i think love comes in many forms. but lately what i've seen people in fandom do is reduce it down to a 1-dimensional feeling where you only have horny on your mind.

but even if you do have horny on your mind, and kantbison did jump into bed on day 1, what is the issue here, if kant had been older than 29? isn't bison 24? aren't they both adults? shouldn't we give our little cutie assassin boy more credit? that being an adult he knows what he is doing? bro has all sorts of bdsm tricks up his sleeve, i think we should trust this FICTIONAL CHARACTER enough to let him make his own decisions on whether he wants to fuck a 33-yo man.

and once again, please do not tell me you think you are uncomfortable because "older kant would be grooming a 24-yo bison" or something. i only have very few strands of hair on my head. please do not let me pull them out 🙏🏽🥹

and now, this is my take on this besides what we already went through in this ask.

as far as makeup and actors are concerned, i think we know that works. imo khaotung is a good actor with a baby-face. he once played a 16-yo when he was 22-23. i know he can do it now.

similarly, first is also a great actor and he gave us yok/akk/alan in quite literally the span of a year and little more. the fact that he bulked up for kant plays a huge role in him portraying the character so well, at least, aesthetically.

something to add about facial skin and aging is that it changes differently with people. i look the same as i did when i was 17-25-and now, 29. i still get mistaken for being a high schooler at best, when i don't have my makeup on, because i still do the 2016 make-up or something (i dunno, i've been told my style of make-up makes me look older, more mature, whatever). i don't think firstkhaotung look much different from when they were playing jimbae/joe in blacklist. it's all about the makeup and the acting, though yes, to some extent directors prefer not to cast someone too young/old for a role because, yes, extra cakey makeup does look kinda shitty. but there's an acceptable limit to actors portraying various characters and i think both firstkhaotung should get more opportunities to showcase their talent in this regard.

if you're concerned about firstkhaotung's ages being a roadblock to how they can act and what characters they are portraying, i think they have so far given us enough reasons to believe that they can do it. in my headcanon, bison is 16 and kant is 33 and that's my nong!bison/uncle!kant gap. and i love it. except, for your and the rest of the fandom's peace of mind, i wanted bison-19 and kant-27/29 because i think that fit well too, from the pilot trailer and fits and the official trailer. and i think even today, firstkhaotung could have very well portrayed it.

with all that said, your comment about first being that age and should be playing characters max-33 is... i dunno. sounds quite... insulting to me. to both the actor that he is, and to hair/make-up artists everywhere.

people can successfully portray characters of various ages. i think that is why they are called actors, you know?

and now, since this is super long. adieu.

if my blog isn't it for you, i suggest you block me so you don't see me under the thk tag. because while i am vehemently against spamming ship/fandom tags with ship/fandom hate, i am all in for spamming them with headcanons, theories, etc., no matter how uncomfortable or nasty they are to other people.

and most people just block you and move on so they don't have to see it.

you can open healthy discussions like this with me. i think it went much better for me than how i started off, but fair warning. I'm a fandom old at this point. it might not be your cup of tea, so best block me to prevent seeing uncle kant and nong bison agenda on TL.

thx.

#the heart killers #the heart killers the series #kantbison #bikant #the age gap debate #anon asks #my answers #source : 29daffodils

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lnsfawwi · 1 year ago

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Winterbaron Thunderbolts blurb

Zemo has spent a lot of time reflecting his feelings for Bucky. when he first learned about the Winter Soldier, Hydra's most formidable secret weapon, he was stuck between disgusted by what's been done to him and general apathy. brainwashed or not, Bucky used his superhuman skills to kill many many people. But after their little adventure, he realizes Bucky isn't that. he isn't one of THEM, Avengers or Nazis alike.

Zemo's grown not just sympathetic but also fond of Bucky as partners in crime. That makes him uncomfortable. He spent YEARS resenting superheroes, hunting them, killing them, killing that sense of superiority they so casually project. But here he is, working with Bucky again, and can't keep his eyes off him.

Bucky is a natural leader, he takes care of his team even tho his contempt for certain people (including himself) is palpable, a brilliant strategist and even a better fighter, he is competent and...attractive.

Zemo tries to play his little mind game but Bucky isn't at all receptive. but that's ok, hatred is a strong enough emotion that may very well carry over to his ultimate demise. bucky won't be able to forget him that easily. Zemo isnt trying to be a 'hero', sacrificing himself for this assorted bunch, he just isn't trying so hard to stay alive.

Bucky notices that, from experience perhaps. Bucky keeps an eye on him in battle. in the middle of a shootout, Bucky drags him to security and shouts at him, 'stop letting your death wish get in the way!' or something like that.

'I'm touched, James, caring the life of someone like me.'

'I don't care if you're dead.'Bucky says as he takes out a guy by calculating the ricochet trajectory on the fly. 'you are just in my way.'

that's probably true. Zemo shrugs, sitting on the ground, fully confident that Bucky can handle the situation for both of them. 'I've been thinking...'

'shoot first, think later, socrates.'

'I've been thinking.' Zemo shoots somewhere blindly and keeps talking, 'we'd make great pair.'

Bucky stares at him as if he's grown another head. or lost the only one he had.

'you see, James, no one knows you better than I do, I'm perhaps the only one who GETS why you are the way you are. And you know me, sort of. we've come to a truce, the past is in the past...'

'I don't share your kinship, Zemo. Now be useful!'

so he makes himself useful, tho he is still talking. talking, yeah, but without referring to the most painfully obvious and unsettling fact. 'what I'm suggesting is mutually beneficial. I have connections and information you need, and you have one less bad guy to worry about.'

'I don't have to worry about you if you're in prison.'

'but I'm not there, am I?'

as the mission progress, Zemo offers help, shuts John up when necessary (Bucky smirks when he does that), and stays close to Bucky. yelena isn't blind, but she thinks Zemo has external motive and gives him the shovel talk.

'that's lovely. now, do you think James would prefer a new modified gun or customed knife? I know he is partial to the SiG but I see room for improvement. you know what, I'll get both. thank you for indulging me, Yelena.'

yelena: ok gay🙄

more fighting ensued, Bucky eventually uses the knife Zemo got him. some part of Bucky just breaks, that line that's been constantly pushed by Zemo is broken at that moment in a sense that Bucky acknowledges Zemo being in his tiny circle of 'allies' is already a truth. Zemo has been his ally longer than he's willing to admit. Bucky wants to believe they are different that's why he pushes Zemo away, only then does he realize accepting Zemo doesn't mean they're the same, it's just that they are compatible in certain situations. and Zemo is not exactly unpleasant to be around, sometimes.

after the mission, yelena suggests they go for a drink, Zemo suggests they go to that fancy place none of them would otherwise be allowed in. It's classy and degenerate at the same time.

while others disappear into the dance floor, Zemo sits down next to Bucky and asks if he could buy him a drink.

'will you back off if I said no?'

'I'm hurt, James. after all this time, you should know I don't take pleasure in forcing people into things they don't want.'

Bucky kinda laughs and lets Zemo buy him a fancy whisky. 'what do you want, Zemo?'

'I already told you what I want. partnership.'

Bucky downs the alcohol in one go and glances at him. 'is that all?'

Zemo is frankly surprised by Bucky's response but who is he to pass the opportunity? 'I usually go on a date or two before moving on to other things, but I suppose I can make an exception.'

and things get a little heated from there.

#bucky barnes #baron zemo #helmut zemo #winterbaron #blurb #experimental writing #thunderbolts #bucky x zemo

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sereneabyyss · 1 year ago

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Blind Watch BSD Season Five

I Feel Spiritually Unwell After That. Unfortunately @wafflesarecool and @animusmelodiam and I have completed season five of BSD. fortunately this means I can come back to Tumblr to not avoid spoilers Animus kept reblogging. However, as was pointed out by Animus before we started, this was very stroke inducing.

First off, as always, Animus Numbers:

Waffle disconnect count: 15

"what the fuck" count: 31 (thanks Amenogozen, Bram, and Fyodor!)

Animus numbers keep us pogging through the pain

We started off strong, immediately hating the Russians.

"he's fucking insane. but I'm rooting for him because I hate Fyodor more"

"'I hate both of them, but I hate this one slightly less so I'm rooting for him' is the entire mood"

Kyouka Lucy and Atsushi trio are top tier. We love them dearly.

"I believe Poe is a trained sniper over them not seeing a car in a flat area anyday."

"Waffle Ranpo is being the greatest detective to ever live. Stop dying."

Many, many, many "what the fuck that is a horrible idea" were said

WHY ARE VAMPIRES CANON???

"The most unprofessional UN meeting... why is waffle still dead"

"cuz he doesn't want to see the horrible UN meeting"

"true"

waffle becomes alive

"All you missed was a terrible UN meeting"

Oh look, we finally remember Atsushi has regenerative powers. How nice and convenient.

"where the fuck is emo at"

"How funny of you to ask"

"EMO!"

All of these characters need to fucking consider getting some therapy

THE FUCKING LIGHTSABER??? IS A CHEAT SWORD!! FUCK THAT FUCKING SWORD I FUCKING HATE IT IT'S HORRIBLE FUCK THAT SWORD!!!

See Akutagawa cares too much about Dazai's approval, therefore, trying to make him betray that trust is tantamount to geeting tiger claws slashing you in the face.

Tachihara become Toph arc! You can learn from Jouno!

Speaking of Jouno what ever happened to that guy. Find out more next time I Guess!

bram pack

Aya and Bram have adopted each other. Kunikida and Bram get to have custody battle over Aya a la fist fighting her father.

"poor aya. I have a baked potato tho."

Never Fucking Piss Off The Happy Person.

Speaking of angered Kenji, how has the one power that was literally compared to Mother Nature itself not been played upon as Kenji being a vessel for a godly power similar to Chuuya and Atsushi? Like it's right there.

Yeet The Kenji.

"dazai don't try to drown Chuuya. Learn some humanity"

Chuuya deserves to kill Dazai As A Treat.

"Bram lives in an eternal state of going through it"

"Well he lives in an eternal state of being impaled, of course he's going through it."

The Fucking Shoujo Springtime Filer?????

"why is he being crucified? Why is bram jesu?"

The comparison of Bram to Jesus was found to be extra funny after Fyodor's last words.

"I love Sigma dearly, but he brought a gun to a knife fight and Lost."

SHOOT EM SHOOT EM DEAD

AYA NO BAD AYA- oh well ok fine sure.

"Atsushi your boyfriend is a vampire"

Bram has officially adopted Aya can't change my mind

"hey look, it's the cockroach" "dammit i was hoping Chuuya killed his ass"

THE END GOAL WAS SO FUCKING STUPID. THAT'S NOT HOW THAT WORKS. THAT'S NOT HOW ANY OF THIS WORKS. HUMANS CAN'T BE UNIFIED UNDER ONE LEADER AND FUCK THE PAGE IF THAT EVER WORKS LIKE THAT WITH IT'S STUPID LITTLE GOD ABILITIES. FUCKING DUMB AS HELL.

ALSO WHO THE FUCK IS THE UN TO DECIDE THQAT? THE UN ISN'T MADE UP OF EVERY SINGLE COUNTRY TO EXIST AND IT'S JUST LIKE 100 PEOPLE AT MAX DECIDINMG THE FATE OF THE WORLD SHOULD BE IN THE HANDS OF ONE ALL POWERFUL PERSON? NO FUCK YOU. LIKE CAT DAD SAID ABSOLUTE POWER CORRUPTS ABSOLUTELY. THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS AND IT SHOULD NEVER WORK LIKE THAT FUCLK THE TRANSMITTER FUCK THAT END GOAL.

THE ARGUMENT OF WHAT A STATE IS IS LIKE A MIDDLE SCHOOL ANARCHISTS IDEOLOGY OF WHY GOVERNMENT IS BAD. THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS AND THAT'S NEVER HOW IT EVER COULD WORK.

Also Ranpo had way too much fun being a terrorist. But like, he deserved to commit crime. As a treat.

Anyway, I gotta go work. This was hell.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #bsd atsushi #bsd ranpo #so glad that's done and over with #not looking forward to season six #at all #god we need an anime that won't turn us bat shit

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 2 years ago

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ᴅᴀʏ ꜱɪx: Exhaustion w/ Daryl Dixon

a/n: this one is a bit sad and kind of hints at suicidal thoughts? so, I would steer clear of this fic if that is something that you're sensitive with :] i admit i got a bit carried away with this one, but boyfriend!daryl to the rescue!

masterlist | comfortember masterlist | AO3

What was the point in any of this? Fighting, winning, a short period of peace, and then fighting again. It was a sick cycle, one that you couldn't escape from. You weren't living, you were simply surviving, and your days felt like they were slowly bleeding together. You were tired, mentally, emotionally, and physically, which made you reckless.

The war that raged between Alexandria, Hilltop, and the Kingdom, and the Saviors was exhausting, truly having you question whether or not staying alive was worth it.

Sitting topless on a hood of a random car, you were cleaning yourself up after taking a pretty gnarly bullet graze to your side that hurt like a bitch. No one had seen you disappear just a few yards away, too busy planning, and helping each other and such. You needed the silence as you sat there, the pain reminding you that you were still human, despite having to push your humanity to the side.

You don't know how many people you've killed, how families you've separated just because they were a threat to you and your people.

You constantly wished that it didn't have to be that way, that maybe... that maybe you should have bit the dust when everything first started. You weren't fit to fight; before all of this, you were some chubby loser that stayed at home and avoided conflict as much as possible. You didn't know how to work a gun or knife or how to jack cars and be stealthy.

Maybe you should have seen this as an upgrade to your person, but it just wasn't you. You weren't a fighter, you were a lover, and you knew that wouldn't get you anywhere.

In the beginning when you lost Glenn & Abraham, Daryl felt like the only one that could pull you out of the darkness, but now you weren't so sure.

"Hey." Daryl greeted as he walked up beside you. Your body jumped, casting a quick glance to him before turning your gaze away. "Hi." You said quietly. You slipped your soiled shirt back over your head. "I was wonderin' where ya disappeared off too." He sat down on the hood next you, his eyes landing on the blood spot on the material of your shirt. "Ya alrigh'?" He asked, picking at a hangnail on his finger. "Mhm." An awkward air settled over you and your boyfriend.

"Why have ya been shuttin' me out?" Your body tensed, your stomach twisting nervously. "I haven't." Even though you were denying it, he was right, you have been. You were so deathly afraid that he was going to just be another person that you lost, and when he was taken captive by Negan, you pretty sure he was. It wasn't like you to not be all over him, to not tell him what was on your mind, and it was scaring him.

"Ya know yer lyin', so jus' tell me."

And just like that, you were crying, cradling your face in your hands as you sobbed.

"I'm so tired, D. The fights will never stop, people will never stop dying! I can't keep losing people!" He tugged you into his body by your waist, holding you close to him so that you can sob into his chest, your hands clutching onto his shirt tightly. "Sometimes I can't help but think about whether or not staying alive is worth it." You felt him stiffen under you before pulling you back so he could cradle your face.

"Don' say stuff like that. I— I get that you're sick of losin' people, believe I am too. I get it, but we gotta fight so we can live, and in order ta do that, we need ya here, I need ya here. 'Cause I love ya, yer my girl. I ain' goin' no where, and if ya do, I guess 'm jus' gonna have to follow ya then." You spared a wet chuckle, sniffling as you nuzzled into his hard worked palm.

"I love you too, Daryl Dixon." You whispered before leaning up to place a kiss on his lips.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback

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nebulablakemurphy · 3 years ago

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Miss American Pie

Chapter Five: This Will Be The Day (Finale)

Warning: this series features a romantic Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader pairing.

Summary: Everyone has returned but the battle for humanity against Thanos wages on.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

You wake in a coughing fit, the rubble surrounding you sears your lungs. “Natasha.” You call into the rocks and flickering lights. Clearing your throat, you try again. “Natasha!”

“Here, I’m here.” Her voice is rough, pained.

You push yourself toward the sound, through the dust you can make out her hair. “You ok?”

“Mostly.” She’s laying face up, a few scratches visible.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I can’t move.” She nods at the piece of collapsed cement. “My leg is broken, you should go.” Nat says, staring up at the sky.

“I should’ve never let you go to Vormir. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” You try uselessly to budge the blockage over her leg.

“What is Vormir?” She asks.

“Doesn’t matter.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “How much do you remember?”

“The red room.”

“Do you remember getting out?”

“No one gets out.” She shakes her head.

“We did.” You inform her. “Yelena did.”

“Yelena?” Her gaze finds yours. “You know Yelena? Is she here?”

“Yes, I know her.” You press your lips together. “She’s not here though.”

“The rest of this building is coming down. If you were really trained in the red room you have to know that.” Natasha frowns. “You need to leave.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Don’t be a hero.” She whispers. “Let me go, it’s ok.”

“No, it’s not.” You argue. “I won’t do it again.”

“What about Yelena?” Natasha gives you a pointed look.

“She’ll understand.” This is what she would do.

“Hey,” Natasha pushes herself up on her elbows. “Would it be a good thing or a bad thing if a giant man in a metal suit carrying a smaller man and a raccoon appeared behind your head?”

You turn toward the man in question. Scott Lang. “It would be a good thing.”

———————————————————————

Natasha is taken somewhere safe. She can’t fight.

As the strange doctor and his disciples start opening portals you see that you’re not alone. Through one comes Alexei, Melina and Yelena.

Her white suit is pristine, dirty blonde hair held away from her face in ponytails.

On shaky legs you move toward her, taking your rightful place at her side. Facing what lies ahead together.

Yelena catches your hand, “this isn’t much of a welcome home.”

You can’t help but laugh, “pretty cool way to die though.”

“Very,” she agrees. “Natasha?”

“She is a little worse for wear.” You warn her, “but alive…and safe.”

Yelena gives you a watery smile, squeezing your fingers. “And you?”

“A tower fell on me.”

“Of course it did.”

Thanos’ army is nothing to scoff at. Giant airborne creatures hover over his troops. Larger monsters stand in their ranks, space ship overhead ready to destroy.

Steve is almost unrecognizable, covered in dirt, his shield battered and broken. But you know it is time when he gives the order. “Avengers, assemble.”

Fighting is easy, it’s what you know. What you were trained to do. Fight to stay alive, fight for what you believe in, fight with Yelena; for Yelena.

The two of you move together like a well oiled machine. Like riding a bike, even after all this time you could never forget.

“We’ve got company to the left.” Yelena says through gritted teeth, kicking at the alien creature beside her. Dropping an empty cartridge to the ground and reloading her gun seamlessly, firing several shots.

Despite everyone’s best efforts they just keep coming. “Do we have a plan here?”

“Getting there,” Steve replies. “Anybody have eyes on the gauntlet?”

“Yeah!” Clint rushes past you with the glove in hand. “What am I supposed to do with it?”

“Get it out of here!” Tony insists.

“What’s happening?” Alexei shouts over the chaos. “I still don’t have ear piece.”

“Just keep their army away from that guy in the tank top.” You grunt, falling backwards from the force of one of Thanos’ soldiers colliding with you.

“We have to get the stones back where they came from.” Rhodey reminds everyone.

“The time space tunnel is completely collapsed.” Tony points out.

“That isn’t our only time machine.” Lang cuts in.

“Does anyone see an ugly brown van out there?” Captain America’s voice hums through the ear bud.

“I do,” a female voice chimes in. “But you’re not going to like where it’s parked.”

After grappling for far too long, you manage to knock the creature from you. Using your knife to dismember it.

“Next time, we get the cool laser guns.” Yelena yells loud enough to be heard by everyone on the network, as she hauls you to your feet.

“Friday, please add laser guns for the ballerinas to my grocery list.” Stark gives his smart ass remark.

“What’s the word on the van?” Rhodey wonders.

“Working on it now.”

The ship at Thanos’ disposal begins raining fire, no regard for their own troops.

“We’ve got people going down!” Rocket hollers.

“Clint,” you call into the microphone. “How’s that gauntlet?”

“Moving down the field.” The archer replies, “I’m alright too, thanks for asking.”

“Good.” You bite back a smile.

Hell continues breaking loose around you. Glowing circular orbs unfold in the air above, providing coverage from the missiles. You’re not sure if this is winning or losing. It feels like a bit of both.

———————————————————————- Thanos and his army are dusted away. Leaving you surprised and still swinging as the shock wears off.

You won. You. Won.

And you lost.

You lost Tony Stark. The man you’d barely known, but offered you clarity that will stay with you forever.

You lost the Natasha you’d come to know over the five years that Yelena was gone. Some parts of the redhead stripped away for the price of the stone.

But she’s still here. Waiting in the wings to be greeted by Yelena and their little makeshift family. You share a look of understanding when your eyes meet over the blonde’s shoulder.

Others come, Banner refuses to leave her side. Despite the fact that Natasha doesn’t remember him.

Clint falls to the ground at her feet. Breaking down at the sight of his friend, his family alive and well. She doesn’t remember him either, but welcomes him into her arms somewhat awkwardly.

Her expressions flicker from happy to overwhelmed. Hesitant to open herself up to the possibility that she is wanted, needed and loved.

Too confusing for the girl who only remembers the red room. Adjusting to this life will take time.

Everyone begins clearing out, their jobs finished. Rushing home to reunite with their loved ones. Tomorrow will bring about new challenges. The world is in shambles, and so are you.

Steve decides that he should be the one to return the stones. His goodbye tells you that he has a bit more in mind. But this is his life. His choices, not yours.

“Well, I guess we should head out too.” You say after a while. Your car is gone, lost in the wreckage from the explosion.

The setting sun is eclipsed, causing all of you to turn your gaze upwards just in time to see the ship’s door open.

“Is that a raccoon?” Melina asks, pointing toward Rocket.

“Do you want a ride or not?” Rocket shoots back.

“Not the avenger’s super jet, but it will do huh?” Alexei smiles, this is his dream.

“This is better!” A man’s voice carries down from the interior.

“Well,” Yelena shrugs, “if you say so.” She leads the pack up the ramp and onto the ship.

“Fanny and the pigs will be expecting dinner soon.”

“How are they?” Melina asks, “have you been taking care of them.”

“That was me!” Alexei says proudly, bending at the waist to gather Natasha into his arms. “Aye honey,” he grunts, hoisting her up. “You are only little girl in my heart.”

Nat pushes against his chest in retaliation.

“Do you mind if I hitch a ride too?” Clint asks.

“The extra stop will cost you,” Nebula stares blankly at him from her seat.

“They always do.” He remarks, trotting up the ramp.

Bruce paces at the foot of the metal grate, watching the rest of you load up. “I gotta hang back, make sure Steve gets there in one piece.”

“After what happened with Scott the first time I’d say that’s probably the best bet.” You agree, standing near the entrance.

“Yeah,” he smiles, kindly. “Keep me posted on Nat, will ya?”

“I will,” you return the smile.

“I’ll see you around.”

You nod, “I’ll see you.”

The captain of the ship introduces himself as Star-lord, and after a moment without response, Quill.

“Any requests?” He asks, finger hovering over the control panel.

Alexei creeps over to the younger man, quietly relaying a message.

“Alright,” Quill nods. Stroking the keys until a familiar set of notes ring out.

“A long, long time ago-“ The singer croons.

You let out a chuckle.

“I can still remember how that music used to make me smile. And I knew if I had my chance, that I could make those people dance. And maybe they'd be happy for a while.”

“We’re really doing this?” Yelena puts a hand to her head, the corners of her mouth turning upward.

“But February made me shiver, with every paper I'd deliver. Bad news on the doorstep, I couldn't take one more step.” The melody carries on.

“It’s your song.” Natasha turns to her sister.

“I can't remember if I cried. When I read about his widowed bride.” Melina’s eyes are far away, carried back to their years in Ohio. Before the world had been so cruel.

“Something touched me deep inside, the day the music-“

“Died.” Yelena joins in, lulling her head to the side to gage your reaction.

You sigh, all of this beyond surreal. But you allow yourself to live in this moment, because you might not get another. “So bye, bye Miss American Pie…”

“Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry.” The roaring chorus of voices fills the silence you’ve grown used to. Fills the parts of you that were empty for so long. “And them good ol' boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye. Singin', “this’ll be the day that I die.”

“This’ll be the day that I die.” Yelena sings, her face alight with a childlike glee.

——————————————————————-

Melina, Natasha and Alexei stay with you for a while. A few weeks as Natasha heals and becomes acclimated to her life.

She claims to hate the attention, but deep down you know she’s full of it.

The Ohio house is bursting at the seams with five adults, nine pigs and one dog.

That isn’t enough to keep visitors at bay. Namely Clint, his wife Laura and their three children.

Things feel a bit off when everyone begins moving out. Alexei, Melina, and their pigs return to the farm outside of Saint Petersburg.

Natasha finds herself drawn to New York, with Bruce and the makeshift building he’s using as a lab.

You adjust to the steady thrum that is daily life, with Fanny and Yelena.

After dinner you load the dishwasher, drying your hands on the nearby tea towel before selecting a cycle.

“So how does it feel?” Yelena asks, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hmm?” You turn to face her.

“Being a hero.” She clarifies, a smile playing at her lips.

“I’m not-“

“Oh cut the crap, Y/N. You saved the world.” Yelena narrows her eyes at you.

“I did it for you.” You say simply, because it’s true.

Yelena closes the space between you, “why?”

“You know why.” You whisper as she cups your face in her hands, gently stroking her thumb over your cheek. “It’s ok if you wouldn’t have done the same.”

“I’d do more for you, and worse.” She assures you. “But do you really want to spend the rest of your life fumbling around feelings in the dark when you could have someone who-“

“I want you. I only ever want you.” You beckon her closer. “Anyway I can have you, that will be enough for me.”

Sometimes wires get crossed and you want things you never have before. And she provides them before you have a chance to ask. You give back to her tenfold, so that neither glass is ever empty. That is love. True love, the only way you’ve ever known it.

“I am yours…in every way a person can belong to another.” Yelena breathes, “and then some.”

Series taglist: @jeyramarie @freeshavocadoooo @ilovewinter101 @3and30aresoultwins @yelenabelovv @miphas-trident @1800-fight-me

If you loved this series as much as I did, you can check out the prequel here!

#yelena belova x reader #yelena belova #marvel fanfiction #black widow fanfiction #black widow #yelena belova fanfiction #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff imagine #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x female reader

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welldonekhushi · 3 years ago

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Scarlet's Fury

An OC x Modern Warfare story!

Summary: Being a TF141 member, it's surely a fact Scarlet's more than a normal soldier, but, what if she shows what she can truly do?

Warnings: Guns, grenades, and violence! Proceed with caution.

✿

Soap: Enemies coming from the north!

Roach: There's too many of them! We need to evacuate or call in the airstrike!

Ghost: Hunter Two, this is Ghost, we request immediate air support, there's a load of enemies coming through our way, our ammo cannot supress them quick!

Hunter Two: Roger that, but we are currently taking rounds for more sufficient ammo, we request you to try suppressing them further with what you got, ETA is ten minutes.

Ghost: Bloody hell.. we gotta live through this for exact ten?

Soap: Ghost, cut the chatter! Stay frosty. Scarlet, try oppressing their fire from the other side! Be careful to dodge their attacks!

Scarlet, firing all her bullets towards the enemies, hearing Soap through the comms: Roger!

Ghost: Wait, you're making her move from her defensive spot where she's supposed to stay?

Soap: It's no use, Ghost! We need to find another way around to kill these enemies until the airstrike comes! I know her, she can do it!

Ghost: But, sir, she's—

Soap: Ghost, pay attention!

Scarlet, carefully takes cover behind the trees, as she moves slowly one by one from her hiding spot: This shouldn't be a bad idea.. this shouldn't..

She proceeds to find another suitable spot where she could look at the enemy's nest and stopping the TF141 from advancing, as she rolls a frag grenade silently beneath their surface carefully and before they could find the grenade on the ground, it exploded, eliminating one part of the enemy forces.

Soap: Good job, Scarlet. Move, move!

Scarlet: I'll keep you covered from here, you keep moving forward— *the connection goes awry*

Soap: Scarlet.. do you copy? Scarlet!

Ghost: Bloody yanks.. maybe she lost the connection.

Soap: She wouldn't have gone too far, we have to find her before the airstrike arrives, move!

Scarlet: Does anyone copy? Captain! Ghost, Roach.. anyone— o-oh no..

She sees that a few enemies located her hiding spot and arm themselves to attack her.

Scarlet, smiles nervously: .. hey?

Enemy: How would a little, naive girl like you be here in the most dangerous parts of the world? Does she even look stronger? Heh, believe she can't even break a twig with her hands.

Scarlet: Look, you're underestimating me. I can kill you if I get the chance!

Enemies, begin to laugh hysterically: Let's see how you even try to defeat us. *The enemy attacks her but she quickly dodges, thanks to her quick reflexes*

Enemy: Huh?

Scarlet, smirks: Missed, eh? Try again *wink wink*

Enemy, tries to attack her from all sides but dodges like a piece of cake, she she jumps over him to kick him in the face:

Scarlet: HIIIIIIYAAAAAHHHH! Woooooohooooo! Who's next?

The next enemy comes and she also beats the shit out of him, and more and more were coming and she was easily able to dodge their attacks. She was all normal doing so, after all, she's an SAS.

Scarlet: Ahaha! Anyone else? Or you gave up? Thinking that I was a nai— *someone blew a strong punch towards her that she dragged on the ground from a little far distance. She could barely move herself because the enemy was now more furious.*

Enemy: YOU WON'T WIN, YOU BITCH. COME AT ME AND FIGHT.

The team almost arrives wherever Scarlet could be, and see her injured heavily. Soap and the rest get worried but decided to go forward only if Scarlet gives a response.

Enemy: Get up, or have you forgotten?

Scarlet, with her head shook, she quietly gets up but doesn't move or respond:

Enemy, thinking it is his chance, he runs towards her almost giving a punch, only for him to get slashed in the chest by Scarlet's pocket knife in an instant:

Everyone, seeing in a constant shock:

Scarlet, her head still shook, with no expression but the knife she held tight showed how determined she was to kill them all:

More enemies come towards her and she runs near to also slash, and stab them quickly, kicking and punching them, avoiding their attacks. What really surprised Soap and the rest is that they never saw such version of Scarlet before.

The cute, cheery and happier Seargant from the outside.. was also violent and stronger in the inside?

Scarlet lifts her head slightly, with her eyes growing in determination. She was focused on the swarm of enemies arriving around her, with just having the knife. But, she dropped it, much to their confusion. She smirks and then draws out her rifle, shooting them all in a circle. She even dodged a bullet that almost shot her, and in return she shot him back. There, her ammunition finishes and feels the other enemy drawing close to her. She quickly grabbed the knife on the ground and threw it over him, stabbing his head as he gurgled in pain and died. Soap was more surprised that how did Scarlet even get this side of herself? The way he used to know about her being calm and quiet, there she killed many, many enemies by just her pocket knife and left ammunition.

Scarlet was breathing and panting silently, with her head shook. She lifted her head, and opened her eyes, seeing everything around her dead. She gasped and saw the three next to her in the distance. She quickly runs towards them and wiped off the blood on her face.. but from there, they saw another swarm of enemies coming towards them, but before anything can happen, the airstrike occurred and killed everyone, as the TF141 covered themselves in security.

When Soap again saw Scarlet's expressions, they showed a little fear, compared to that version where she was entirely fearless and killed every single enemy in her area. He never even saw such a version of Scarlet like this before.

But, little to know, she was more than just a soldier.

The end? O_o

✿

#cod #call of duty #call of duty fanfic #cod mw #call of duty modern warfare #infinity ward #activision #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #gary roach sanderson #cod oc #call of duty oc #soap x oc

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itsthestutterforme · 4 years ago

Text

Second Chances (Jang Hanseok)

Summary: Hanseok was spiraling and was starting to get paranoid as Vincenzo's plan began to unravel. Y/N, his best friend, gets hurt because of him and he never forgives himself.

Characters: Vincenzo x nurse!reader (platonic) Hanseo x nurse!reader (platonic), Hanseok x nurse!reader (platonic)

Requested by @letsnotcrytoday

Sighing as you rest your head on the steering wheel, your phone chimed. You just finished your 12 hour shift in the hospital as a nurse and you felt tractor trailer ran over you. A scolding hot bath, a vibrating pad and a foot massage from Hanseok sounds like heaven right about now.

Speaking of Hanseok, he's been very distant lately. You've been best friends since junior high and you know each other like the back of your hands. But you haven't seen him so closed off before. It's almost as if he doesn't know who to trust. And it makes you wonder how he became that way.

Without pulling away from the steering wheel, you reach into your bag and take out your phone. You glance over at the phone to see a text from Hanseo saying, "He-." That's odd. Hanseo has been just as distant as Hanseok. Something doesnt feel fight. Was he trying to say "Help?"

You drive to Hanseo's office first but they said that he was out for the day. Then you drove to Hanseo's house and your heart bangs in your chest when you look through the window.

You see Hanseok walking around the house with a gun and Hanseo tied up in front of him. He looks to be bleeding from his head. There are two other people there, a woman and a man.

You don't want to see Jang Hanseok go to jail. He's not a bad man, he just made mistakes that led him down a terrible road. Your heart was shattered to pieces when you visited him in jail and saw him in those awful, beige jail clothes.

You can't see him there again. You grab your first aid kit from your glove box and shove it into your purse.

You slowly walk into the house and open the door, careful not to make any noise. You walk into the living room when you heard three gun shots. "Oh my God, Hanseok, what you-."

Another gun shot rings in your ears and a sharp pain struck your hand. You fall to the floor and cradle your hand against your chest to see a gaping hole in your palm.

Taking deep breaths, you look around the room to see the woman with a gun shot wound in her shoulder and Hanseo with multiple wounds in his chest. If you don't patch those up soon, he won't make it. You finally look up to see Hanseok looking at you with wide eyes. "Y/N, what are you doing here!"

The other man stands up and Hanseok pulls the trigger once again but the gun exerted a soft click. Hanseok looks at you with guilt and anger as the man rush toward him. Hanseok jumps off of the balcony and disappears. A soft whimper left your lips as blood spills from your hand and on to the floor.

You take some cloth from your purse and wrap your hand tightly to prevent any more blood loss. You wince as the pain intensifies and make your way to Hanseo, where the man was kneeling. "Can you help him?" He asks.

"I can try. Did you already call the ambulance?" "Yes," "Okay." You unbutton his shirt to get a better look at his wounds. He has a total of three wounds, luckily there are three people here.

You open the first aid kit and pressed gauze to his wounds, making him wince. "I'm alright," Hanseo says weakly. "No, you're not." You snap, angry at Hanseok for doing this to his brother. "I'm sorry, I j-" His hand comes up to touch your cheek. "You two were more like siblings to me than he was." He says.

"Stop talking and save your strength. Apply pressure to this one." You tell the man. "Miss, I know you're hurt but can you use the other arm to put pressure on his wounds? I'll tend to yours in a minute." You add. "Y/N, please. Let it run it's course." "No, I won't. You're going to live, you hear me?" you say, blinking away the years forming in your eyes.

"I don't want to live in fear anymore. I did good, right? Please tell me I did good." "You're going amazing, Han seo. I'm so proud of you." "P-proud?" More tears escape your eyes as you ease the pressure of his wounds and uncap 5 milligrams of morphine. You inject him with it and he sighs softly. "This should ease the pain enough for him.." you trail off.

"I'm so sorry, Han seo." You add, taking his hand into both of yours. He takes his last breath as you press a kiss to his forehead. Shaky breathes leave your lips and you wrap your arms around him. "I'm sorry for your loss, but can you please help my friend?" The man asks.

Wiping away your tears, you nod and made your way over to the woman.

It's 2 A.M. It's been five hours since you came home from the hospital and you didn't get a lick of sleep. What happened at Hanseo's house replays in your mind like some reoccurring nightmare. You wish it was a nightmare. One of your bestfriends was shot a killed by your other best friend.

Sniffling from crying about Hanseo's passing, you blow your nose a few times. That was when you hear a soft clank in your kitchen. Your nose flares with annoyance.

Whoever broke into your home was one unlucky son of bitch. You're feeling everyone emotion besides fear and you have a locked and loaded pistol in your drawer.

Taking the pistol into your hand, you take the safety off and slowly walk down the stairs. You lean your back against the wall next to the kitchen. "Whoever you are, you have five seconds to get the hell out or I'm putting five bullets in you." "Y/N?" You hear Hanseok say.

You step away from the wall and aim your gun at him, not caring about the searing pain of your hand wound opening up again. "Get the hell out," "Y/N, please. I.. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for any of thi-" "That was your brother, Hanseok! Your blood! And you killed him, because of what!"

"I had no choice! Vincenzo threatened to kill you if I didn't." You were at a loss for words. "Don't. Please don't turn your back on me. The whole world can but the minute that you do, then I'm a lost cause." He says, making your heart lurch in your chest.

You weren't aware that he was stepping closer to you until his hands were taking the gun out of yours. Putting on the safety, he tosses the gun on the couch. His gaze fixes on the gauze wrapped around your right hand. You put your hand behind your back. "It doesn't hurt that bad," you lie.

Still unsure of whether to believe him, you thought that it was best to sleep on it and talk to him about it in the morning. Your brain was physical exhausted from work and recent events.

"You can see yourself out," you add before turning around to go back to your room. He grabs your uninjured hand and pulled you into his chest. "You could have died, and it would have been at my hand. I'll never forgive myself for that." You chose not to say anything and listened to his heart racing in his chest.

"I didn't know it was you. My body reacted before my mind could register... I know you're pissed at me but please don't lose faith in me." He adds. "What were you thinking!" You push him away from you and slap him across the face. It wasn't until you heard a faint rip of your stitches that you realized it was with the injured hand.

A shriek of pain leaves your lips and you fall to floor, cradling your hand. He kneels down next to you and you both watch as blood seeps through the bandage. "Where's your first aid kit?" He asks. "Bathroom." Without a second thought, he lifts your into his hands and carries you into the bathroom.

He sets you on the counter and sets the first aid kit on the toilet lid. Slowly peeling off the gauze, he winces when he sees the wound. Guilt weighs on his eyes and he cleans around the wound on both sides before putting an antifungal cream.

He puts a large piece of gauze on both sides of the hand and uses a new wrap to intricately wrap the hand between each finger and the entire wrist.

He tucks away the loose end of the wrap and we both sigh in unison. "We have to get out of the country," "What the hell did you get yourself into, Hanseok? Why didn't you tell me sooner, I could have helped you." "No, you couldn't." He walks out of the bathroom and you jump off the counter to follow him until you heard him scream.

"Hanseok!" You rush out of the bathroom but a hand clamped around your mouth and felt a sharp prick on the side of your neck. You drop to the ground as black wisps cloud your vision and the last thing you saw was Hanseok being dragged away.

Gasping for you breath, you find yourself laying in your bed. What the hell? Was last night a dream? You look at your hand and remember Hanseok wrapping it after pulling your stiches. It wasn't a dream. Someone took Jang Hanseok.

You stand up from the bed and reach for your phone. You thought of Hanseo saying that he our a tracker in his brother's watches. You thought he was crazy but now you couldn't help but to thank him. You look up to the ceiling and say, "I'll make sure you get the justice you deserve, Hanseo."

Following the GPS, you stop in the middle of traffic when you see the man from Hanseo's apartment leaving the warehouse that the GPS led you. "He's the one that forced Hanseok to kill his own brother." You say to yourself. Your blood runs cold in your veins when you see blood splattered on his face and clothes.

Horns honk at you and you park on the side of the road and waited for the man to leave. You rush into the gravel road to park the car. Running as fast your legs can take you, you follow Hanseok's screams to a large room of the abandoned warehouse.

He's connected to some weird torture device that looks automatic. There is a drill that looks to be a half an inch inside his chest cavity. "Oh God," you say. "Y/N," he says weakly and you had sudden flashbacks to Hanseo dying. You couldn't loose another one, you refuse to.

You pull out a knife and pop open the circuit of the device and you cut the red wire which prevents the device from functioning. You're so glad you took that programming class in college.

You stick the sharp end into the crease and pushed the drill out of the device so it would stay in his chest. If you took out the drill now, he would bleed out in seconds.

What kind of monster would do this to another human being? You pull him to his feet and walk him down the stairs to get to the car. "Stay with me okay?" You say when you notice his eyes starting to close his eyes.

He looked terrible. His eyes looked sunken, his skin looked pale and lifeless and his lips were blood stained. When you find this guy, you're going to tear him a new one.

Going 80 on the highway, you were at the hospital in a blink of an eye. "Help! Someone help me please!" You yell as you drag him into the ER.

"Y/N, what happened to him?" Your coworker asked. You wait until he is on the gurney to say, "Someone was torturing him with a drill." You say flatly.

"What kind of sicko does that?" When you don't respond, she adds, "Right, sorry. Not time for jokes. I'll keep you posted." You nod and watch as she accompanies a doctor's taking him to the surgery floor.

Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay.

#vincenzo #kdramafans #kdrama fanfic #vincenzo fic #nurse!reader #kdramas

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equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years ago

Note

Hey! I just read the last part of the BTHB and I can't get enough of it!! So, if you'd like, for BTHB, is it okay that after supervillain gets all healed up, he leaves. Then when the hero agency gets to know that hero saved him, they want to punish her/execute her by death? And supervillain saves her? But she's still too injured to do just anything

And, if you're not comfortable with this, feel free to ignore!

Thank you for the ask! I changed it up a bit, just a smidge, like a little bit because I think it would make it more dramatic, but not too much. Hope you enjoy!

And this got long... so I apologize. I still don't have the ability to put a readmore.

Muddy Rain Part 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 ... if you guys like this series, I will have to make a masterlist for it soon!

@shydragonrider

Warnings: (i made two lists, one for Hero and one for Supervillain for those who aren't comfortable with lady whumpees) alcohol mention, broken bones mention, attempted murder,

Supervillain: chloroformed, drugged state of mind, limping, not healing, past trauma, memories of torture, low self-esteem, shocked by stun gun, tranquilized

Hero: restrained, kidnapped, shocked by stun gun, bleeding, knife wounds, unconsciousness, manhandled

Hero awoke slowly, finding her arms wrapped protectively around her ward. She sighed, looking down at his slowly breathing figure in the darkness. She didn't know if he would ever get better.

Six months later...

"Hero?!" Supervillain called from the other room. "Breakfast is ready!"

Hero smiled, biting her lip as she set down her book, and walked into the horrible smelling kitchen. She wrinkled her noise, taking in the state of her kitchen. The windows were opened with tiny fans blowing the thick, smokey air out of the hot room. Egg yolks and melted butter practically painted the counters with their yellowness. Strawberry juice was splattered across the white sink with at least ten kitchen knives tossed carelessly into a pile, waiting to be washed.

The waffle iron, coated in batter, was steaming hot and did not look like it was properly doused in canola oil.

But, amongst the mess, Supervillain beamed over two plates of charcoal colored waffles and cut up strawberries.

"Why thank you," Hero said and tried to grab her own plate, but Supervillain ripped it out of her reach.

"I got it," he said, smiling a wavering smile. Almost instinctively, Hero looked away, but knowing curiosity got the better of her.

She glanced back at Supervillain, trying to avoid looking at his shaking arm- the bad one, the one with the broken clavicle- as he carried both plates to the coffee table in the livingroom. She tried not to take much note of his funny gait either- the way his knees seemed to buckle as he walked, completely devoid of strength.

She tried not to look because of how hard Supervillain tried. How he tried to cook meals for Hero and how he dealt with jobs that he didn't necessarily enjoy- all to support Hero for all she did. He worked as a graphic designer, playing around with computers, when he would've rather been a baseball coach or an engineer.

"Thank you for breakfast," Hero said, sticking her fork in the waffle and eating it like a popsicle, trying her hardest not to grimace as her tongue was temporarily numbed by a clump of baking powder.

Supervillain blushed, his still pale cheeks turning rosy in color, as he winced at the state of his own plate.

"I could be better," he whispered, more to himself than anyone, so Hero ignored his obvious show of self negativity.

They remained in silence until a loud knocking interrupted them. Hero looked up, heart pounding, as a foreboding feeling rose in her gut. Supervillain half stood up, using his hand to balance his shaking body, but Hero gently pushed him back down.

"I got it," she told him softly and walked over to the door. Her hand hovered over the knob for a moment before she turned it and-

She was thrown backwards onto the ground and before she knew it, she was pressed against someone's stomach, arms pinned.

"Let me go!" She growled, kicking and stepping at her attacker's feet, but someone else came and quickly zipped her ankles up with cable ties.

"Hey!" She cried, using momentum to thrust herself forward. Only, she had no balance with her newly tied ankles and fell to the ground.

Her wrists were tied next and she was lifted to her feet, but suddenly, her attacker froze, giving her time to assess the situation.

There were five of them, masked. One held a bag a cable ties, the others were completely empty-handed, and one was manhandling Hero.

"Let her go, now!" Came Supervillain's familiar voice, though this time taut with rage and fury, but also a hint of fear.

She didn't see it, but felt it. The one holding her nodded and the other four rushed towards Supervillain. One grabbed a bottle of something most likely nasty and dumped it over a rag. Hero's heart jumped. No, no, no, no, no...

Her attacker spun her around, kicking in her knees to make her sit on the floor. She looked up and saw Supervillain with a gun in his hand.

"Knock him out," her attacker ordered. His voice, frighteningly familiar.

"No!" Hero screeched. "Stop! I will do what you want, just don't touch him, please."

Her hair was grabbed, head yanked back.

"I know you will, because if you don't, he will die and you know it," the man snarled. "But he will still fight for you, no matter our terms of agreement."

The four masked strangers attacked Supervillain, pushing him to a sitting position on the floor. He struggled, but only for a moment before a drenched rag was stuffed into his face.

"No," Hero whimpered, hardly able to watch, but her attacker held her head up to watch the whole event.

After a few minutes, Supervillain's frantic struggles turned into sporadic twitches as his body screamed for air.

"Stop," Hero said, voice thick with tears and face wet with them. "You'll kill him." She said the last bit in a whimpering tone.

"Who cares, he'll be out of the way."

Supervillain sunk into the stranger's arm, not yet unconscious. For a moment he hung there, head lolling in the rag and the hand holding it. Then, he looked up at Hero, his gaze faraway and glassy, before his eyes rolled into his head and he collapsed to the ground.

"Please," Hero begged. "At least bring him to the couch, please. He-" She stopped, not wanting to spill Supervillain's weaknesses, but it already seemed that all was lost. "He has a hard time standing up when he wakes and the drugs won't make it easy. Just, please." She melted into her attacker's arms, crying.

"Bring him to the couch," her attacker conceded after a moment’s hesitation. Two men each grabbed an arm. Hero stiffened when one cruelly pulled on his bad one. They dragged him to the couch, his head rolling uselessly on his chest.

"As for you," her attacker spoke. He stood up, walked in front of Hero, and ripped off his mask. Hero's body gave a nervous twitch when she recognized her colleague, Superhero.

"You are going to come with us," he finished, grabbed Hero and dragged her out of the house.

《~~》

Supervillain came to rather slowly, whimpering and crying out in pain as his head banged ruthlessly around. A dense feeling of nausea rose in his throat as the room, when he managed to open his eyes, spun.

For a moment of incoherence, he believed that he was hurt again, laying half-consious on Hero's bed as she gingerly cared for him.

But, as his senses returned, he realized that her touches were vacant and his legs weren't wrapped in the immobilizing padding.

Only then did he muster the willpower to completely open his eyes and draw his memories towards any prior events. Though, he found that if there were any, they were distant and vague- much like his memories of the month in which he hardly woke up, unless for necessities like medicine or food.

He became aware of his breathing, and then the placement of his body. Arms were strewn all over the place as if he had no control where they ended up. He flinched as a few moments of recollection came over him. Panic, rush, and the feeling of many hands on him.

His nose and mouth stung painfully, though he knew he didn't have a cold or a sniffle or anything. Not even allergies.

Then it hit him. His memories. Hero being restrained with cable ties, grabbing the gun, the rag over his mouth, lungs burning, Hero's screams, then nothing. Nothing at all.

He was drugged.

He suddenly pushed himself to his hands, only for them to crumble under his weight as an intense feeling of lightheadedness overwhelmed him. He groaned, hands flailing as they tried to clutch at his rollercoaster for a head.

He had to get up. Hero was in danger.

He swung his legs over the side of the choice, only for them to go extremely weak and splay out from underneath him. He let out a sob, head pounding painfully.

Get up.

He used his arms as leverage to shove himself up, then stumbled towards the wall, leaning against it heavily. He took in a shuddering, deep breath, lips pressed into the cold material.

He didn't know how long it took, or exactly remembered it either, but eventually he found himself slumped over Hero's motorcycle. He felt like he was going to throw up and then collapse.

But he couldn't, had to save Hero.

He swung his leg over the seat, ignoring the agonizing grinding of his still-healing bones, and sat there, waiting for the dizziness to fade.

His vision cleared and he turned the vehicle on. Revving it up, he drove sloppily out of the driveway.

He recognized the voices of the men who came. Heroes, particularly the gang that tortured him all those months ago. Supervillain's thoughts drifted for a moment, but then he found himself veering off the road.

"Snap back into it," he whispered to himself, voice hoarse. He concentrated on the road the best he could, but the way the yellow lines melted into each other was very confusing.

Okay, think, think, think, he willed himself, gripping the handles until his knuckles went white. The garage, a mechanic's garage, where he was kept at was on the far side of town. He knew it because that was where Villain worked, and Villain...

No, stop. He couldn't go that route, but his drugged mind was still traveling down that path. The sledgehammer, food just inches from his reach, the utter helplessness...

A car honked, loud and earsplitting. Supervillain sighed, he had to keep his thoughts under control. So he blocked all thinking and paid attention to the way the road melted under the motorcycle's tires.

Before he knew it, he was pulling up to the familiar building. Old, broken cars guarded the entrance to where his torture took place and with that knowledge, he went there, knowing that was where Hero was.

He crept through the cars, legs throbbing and moving stiffly. Every so often he would stop, grab at a car, and catch his breath. He was so useless, so, so useless.

Don't think that way, you have a job, you make money, you support Hero...

He stood up straighter and walked into the garage, fear clutching his chest. In there was a world of pain- something Supervillain wanted to forget.

For Hero, he would do anything. She saved his life.

Supervillain slid his hand over the doorknob, freezing as he heard the ringing of the bells- a sound that used to bring him such hope. A hope that someone would see him, or care enough about him to save him.

"Be there in a minute!" Came a familiar yowl. Supervillain started backwards, panic rising in his throat as anticipation clawed at his chest. The woman that spoke was not one of the people who broke in. No, she was more sophisticated than that. She was...

Villain.

Supervillain looked at the tall lady in front of him, trying not to glance at her heels- oh the memories of those steel prods digging into his already gnarled flesh.

"Hey honey," Villain spoke sauntering over. Supervillain slid down onto the floor, overwhelmed with anxiety and fear, just as Villain's cold hand ran through his hair. He stiffened, muscles tensing.

"It has been a while. Want some tea to drink as we catch up?" Her petting increased, her fingers pulling at the strands.

Supervillain risked it and shook his head. "I-uh," he stammered. Gosh, he was scared. So scared. Him, the greatest supervillain in the city, was scared to the point of trembling. Maybe he would blame it on the chloroform, but deep down he knew that was a lie.

Oh how he wished he was home, trying and failing to make a batch of muffins.

"What was that, dear?" Villain murmured.

"Where's Hero?" He rasped, instantly cowering in fear.

"Oh Hero? That little bastard? Oh yeah, she's currently bleeding out at an alarming rate," Villain purred and stopped rubbing Supervillain's head- much to his relief.

Supervillain whimpered, his body screaming at him to find her, but primitive instinct kept him rooted to the ground.

But, after a few moments of fighting himself, Supervillain stood up. Villain backed away, face taut with amusement.

"What are you going to do?" Villain taunted. "Hmm? You couldn't even save Hero from five men and now there are ten out there, armed with deadlier things than chloroform."

Supervillain squeezed his eyes shut. Don't listen to her, don't listen to her...

"Her life is worth more than mine," Supervillain growled, as he pushed past his former captor. He could see a smirk rise on Villain's lips.

"Yeah... it really is, isn't it," Villain chuckled. "You worthless scum." She spun around and kicked Supervillain's knees. He tripped, blood rushing through his ears, but stayed upright as he gallantly walked into his old home.

The smell of countless oils and grease hit his nose, and following that, the familiar scent of exhaust. He grimaced, remembering his utter inability to breathe on busy days.

But even those memories washed away at the sight of Hero, bloodied and unmoving, with people shocking her endlessly with stun guns.

"Hey!" Supervillain yelled, grabbing a pipe wrench in one hand. The people torturing Hero, stopped and turned around to face Supervillain who was swaying on his feet- from the lingering fatigue and fear.

"Leave her be," he growled and stalked up to them. One shrugged and zapped Supervillain in the side. His body seized as white flashes illuminated his vision. Gasping, he fell to the ground, right next to Hero's body.

"Well now we have two to have fun with boys! But, let's head in and grab us some whiskey first!" A chorus of cheers followed that.

Supervillain was still out of breath by the time the men left to go get their alcoholic beverages.

"H-hey," he rasped, slowly bringing his hand to caress Hero's face. She was unconscious, but at his touch, her eyes blinked open.

"Hero?" Supervillain croaked, relief flooding his veins. He slowly sat up and dragged her limp body onto his lap. She groaned, and that was when he realized that he jostled a whole array of injuries.

They were tiny, nothing that a strong and healthy person like Hero wouldn't be able to recover from, but they were aimed to kill.

Unlike Supervillain's torture that aimed to cripple and harm him mentally and physically.

Those lethal injuries were knife wounds, some small, others large. They spanned from her chest, all the way through her torso and down her arms and legs. It was to be a slow, and painful death, Supervillain noted. None of the wounds touched a major artery.

"I'm gonna help you," Supervillain whispered, tucking a long, wavy piece of her hair behind her ear. "Like you did for me." When did he get so cheesy? Hero did this so much better.

"Y-you don't need to pay me for what I did," Hero murmured in reply, unfocused eyes focusing for just a moment. "I-i," she winced, groaning loudly, as her bloodstained hands gently brushed a particularly nasty gash.

Supervillain shushed her, putting a finger to her bruised lips. "Quiet," he said, and brought an arm under her knees and another supporting her upper body.

He gasped for breath as he lifted her limp and heavy body. His limbs shook with exertion, but he forced himself to walk... one step at a time.

He was nearly at the door, ready to press the botton to open the large, garage door, when something shot into his neck.

He gasped. Aching pain sprouted from the spot. Glancing down, he saw blue and white feathers.

A dart.

"No," he gasped, using his elbow to press the botton. He knew the tranquilizer. He had maybe ten minutes before the sedative would kick in.

He had to move.

Slipping under the door, he ran. Moving his stiff legs faster than they had in a while. He didn't look back- that would just slow him down.

He sat Hero on the seat, slid in behind her and drove away.

After about ten minutes, like Supervillain predicted, he started getting horribly tired. He glanced behind him to see an SUV slowly following him.

"Think," he whispered to himself, pressing his face into Hero's back. Around him was a dense forest. If he just turned...

His body acted without thinking it through. He turned sharply, only for the motorcycle to crash into the guardrail. Him and Hero went flying, crashing into trees.

Just before their bodies connected with the river below, Supervillain flipped Hero's body over so he would take the full shock of the fall.

His body hit the rushing water. Pain shot through his ribs. But before the tranquilizer fully hit, Supervillain was able to grab onto a tree trunk and throw Hero over it.

Then he blacked out as a wave of water crashed over his face.

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lunatriense · 3 years ago

Note

Purrha 30

One headcanon about this OTP that mends it

"What do you mean 'she escaped'?"

"I'm sorry, sir, she just-."

"I don't care! Find her!!"

Blake listens to the conversation between Adam and the thug over the radio of the latter, currently beneath her in the hallway. For months now, she's been a prisoner of her former mentor's faction of the White Fang, ever since that enormous Grimm had knocked her out of Beacon's tower and she'd awoken in their custody. Months during which she's had to play her part, to keep Adam believing she was close to breaking and rejoining his cause.

That was before he murdered Sienna in his coup, though. The way he'd been spiralling into madness, she knew she didn't have long, and he'd recently decided her time was up — she would die with Haven. Adam always had had a flair for the dramatic. Not that she meant to meekly go along with his plans, which is why she's now on the run from his goons after having slipped her bonds and disarmed the bomb placed in the room with her.

As soon as she's satisfied the goon won't be getting any more questions, she drops and quickly incapacitates him, taking his gun and knife and darting out into the night.

"You took everything from me!!"

Pyrrha presses the attack, driving Cinder back with sheer ferocity. She's supposed to be backing up the rest of the team, fighting in concert — that's how they've been victorious in their journey, how they defeated the Nucklavee and drove Tyrian Callows away.

She's supposed to be, but the moment she saw that woman step out of the portal, she could only see red. She could only hear the last words Blake spoke to her before going off to die, to spend her life so that Cinder could be stopped and in the end… in the end, here she stood anyway. She hadn't been stopped, she'd killed Blake for nothing, and now she's here with that damned smirk on her face!

Pyrrha clenches her teeth. She'll wipe that smirk off with her blade.

"Have I? I don't remember doing anything to you." Cinder blasts a beam of fire at Pyrrha to open up some space, which she takes on the shield. "Oh wait, is this about that ridiculous faunus girl? What was she called, Blair or-?"

"Shut up!! You don't get to say her name!!" Pyrrha throws her sword, guiding it with her polarity to strike Cinder and knock her off-balance, using the opening it provides to close the distance and smash her shield into Cinder's face.

In return, she finds herself sailing backwards through the air, the breath driven from her lungs by a point-blank explosion directed into her abdomen. She crashes through the wall of the building and out into the courtyard beyond, and through the ringing in her ears she faintly hears Emerald yelling for Cinder. No attack follows immediately; something must've happened.

"-rha?"

Pyrrha shakes her head to clear the ringing and looks to the source of the sound, and what she sees stops her cold. "Blake…?" She can barely whisper the name, not only because her lungs burn for breath but because her throat has squeezed all but shut now upon sight of her lost love.

No, it can't be her. It can't. She died months ago, back at Beacon — the worst day of Pyrrha's life. But how…? The illusionist, it must be; this has to be Emerald's doing, setting her up for an attack no doubt.

Pyrrha doesn't care. Her aura can take a hit, and to see Blake again — even an illusion of her — to hear her voice… tears well in her eyes as an expression filled with joy and pain and sorrow all at once comes over her.

Blake rushes over and falls to her knees to wrap Pyrrha in a tight embrace, trembling as she holds her. She's a little thinner than Pyrrha remembers, but she's still so warm and soft, she still smells like midnight and starlight and mystery and… and how does Emerald know that?

No attack has come, neither a blade in the back nor an explosion nor fireball nor obsidian arrow. Pyrrha dares to hope. She squeezes her eyes closed and holds Blake close, saying a silent prayer to every deity she's ever heard of.

"Is… is it you? Are you… real?" Her voice is again barely a whisper, quavering with her tumultuous emotions.

"It's me." Blake leans into her. "I finally made it back to you…"

"Blake… you… you're alive…" Pyrrha's voice breaks in a sob, then another, and she clings to Blake like a life preserver in a storm.

Blake holds on just as tightly, burying her face against Pyrrha's neck and nodding in reply. "I'm alive… I'm home."

#pyrrha nikos #blake belladonna #purrha #rwby #memes #answers

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illyaana · 4 years ago

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Birthday Special: Mashirao Ojiro

credits to the artist who drew the picture above!

Tags: Timeskip! Ojiro x Hero! Reader, No Specific Gender for Reader, Fluff

Your Hero Name: Pavlin (Peacock in Bulgarian)

Your Quirk: Peacock

When you wish, a bunch of peacock feathers form from the small of your back. Much like Hawks' quirk, they listen to your orders and can become swords. They also double as a shield. You also have a telekinetic connection with them too. The drawback is that removing too many in an hour can make you bleed.

Synopsis: You were tracking down two vigilantes. As you were severely injured, you sent a notice to all the heroes where you believed they were heading. After you healed, you continued to follow them. Soon, they removed their disguises and you found out it was Toga and Dabi. Toga shoved a needle in your arm and you thought that she was only drawing out blood, but you were wrong.

Word Count: 1879

The two vigilantes were relentlessly attacking you. Their guns and daggers came at you from left and right, forming multiple gashes and wounds on your body.

You knew you were reaching your limit. The feathers on your back were stained by the blood dripping due to you using so many of your feathers without any time to recuperate.

You jumped from the building and hid in an alleyway. You were planning to give yourself 5 mins to let your body rest while you use the smaller feathers of yours to track the two armed men.

By injecting a syringe full of green liquid formed by some of the heroes you knew who had quirks that could heal, you felt the wounds in your body seal and heal while you focused on the task at hand - to identify where they were going.

You were in your subconscious, feeling the movement of your feathers in a makeshift map of Musutafu in your head. You memorised the city like the back of your hand, it was required to be one of the more efficient heroes of Japan.

You knew they knew you weren't physically following them anymore, so they'd lead you straight to where they intended to go - and it oh so happened to be the base of the League of Villains.

Using your phone, you alerted all the heroes nearby the base with an app designed by the safety commission to keep an eye out for the two as you recharged.

Soon, you felt your body was ready to continue with the mission you were originally conducting.

Using the boots designed by your agency, you jumped and used your feathers to swerve to the right. Soon, you were jumping from building to building to catch up with the two men you were tracking.

You heard your phone ring and you picked it up,

"What is it Ojiro?" you said, speaking loudly.

"Where are you, most of us are waiting outside of the base to get those two," he stated with a worried tone.

You chuckled. "Don't worry about me too much, honey. Your fiance is stronger than you think."

"Still, where are you?" He asked again, now with a more stern tone.

You sighed. "Look up, stupid."

You saw him look to the top of the building opposite the base and instantly spotted you. You were leaning against the wall with your arms crossed and your phone by your ear.

You saw his face turn pale and you instantly turned around.

The two males smiled as one of them shoved a needle into your upper arm, drawing blood from it.

Soon, a muddy-like shell covering their bodies fell from the both of them, revealing Dabi and Toga.

"Pavlin wasn't as strong as they said, right, Dabi?" Toga said smiling, revealing her two fangs.

Dabi smirked as he walked towards you and grabbed your chin.

"They're hot too," he said as he trailed his fingers on your lips, "It isn't fair that Tailboy managed to secure this hot of a person to himself."

You bit Dabi's finger and pulled on the syringe, causing all the blood drawn to fall on the floor.

Using your feathers, you pinned both Toga and Dabi to the wall.

While Dabi tried to burn the feathers, you used a flashlight and showed a signal to the heroes perched outside of the base and turned their attention to you.

Ojiro was soon behind you along with Shoto and Aizawa. He quickly grabbed you before you fell due to the blood loss.

"You okay?" he asked as he gripped you from the sides. You could only nod, unable to say a word.

You felt your feathers begin to fall from your back.

You didn't tell them to.

They fell on their own.

You began to vomit out blood, copious amounts falling from your lips.

Soon, you heard Dabi laughing hysterically. "So how is it being quirkless, Pavlin?"

Your face paled.

Quirkless?

"We weren't only taking your blood, you know," Toga explained, "We also injected you with something the League has been developing - a serum to remove quirks."

Toga took the knife from her hands and cut through your feathers. "You were our first test subject, and it clearly worked!" She began chuckling, "You are relieved from your duties, Pavlin. It was a pleasure being your opponent."

You gripped Ojiro's arm, not wanting to act recklessly.

You were no longer Pavlin.

You chuckled lowly.

You took one of your longer feathers from the ground, touching the very tip of it.

It was still sharp.

It could still cut.

You looked at Ojiro.

You didn't need to say anything.

He already knew what you wanted to do.

You got off the floor and stood in a fighting stance, wiping the blood from the sides of your mouth.

"At least let me finish my job before I am relieved of my duties, Toga."

You ran to her, using your boots to get a high distance so that you came to her at an angle.

You were going to stab this bloodsucker and give her a taste of her own medicine.

Thanks to Shoto, they couldn't move. The ice beneath them had secure them to where they stood.

Every single time Dabi tried melting it off, Shoto just formed more ice.

The next few seconds were a blur, but you knew you stabbed Toga at her right shoulder. You made sure to push it in deep, letting the finer hairs of your former feather enter her skin, preventing her from using her dominant hand ever again.

Dabi stared at his partner as she screamed.

While she was writhing in pain, you looked at him.

"I am not done with you get."

A dark smile reached your lips as you jumped off of Toga's body and grabbed two of your smaller feathers.

"Get out of the way!" you screamed at the others as you ran straight to Dabi.

You threw one small feather while running and it immediately hit Dabi's lower arm.

"Even if I wasn't with Ojiro, I would've never fall in love with you let alone get in a relationship with you."

You threw the other smaller arrow to reach his lips vertically, slicing each lip in half, "...so don't you ever touch my lips ever again."

Everyone surrounding you sighed in relief when you kneeled down, catching your breath.

But Ojiro wasn't going to let this end like how it did.

He was furious.

That quirk was the only thing that reminded you of your family that died so many years ago.

It was the only thing that you could call a present from your family.

He knew how life was for you as an orphan who was never adopted.

He remembered how you'd go on and on about your late parents who taught you the basics of your quirk.

He remembered how you cried when you told him about how they passed off.

He knew how much that quirk meant to you.

And all he could see now was red.

"How dare you do that to them!" He screamed at the two of them.

You saw the anger in your fiance's eyes as he gave a death stare to the two villains in front of you.

"Ojiro, I have already-" he touched the top of your head, signalling you to let him speak on your behalf.

"They may be willing to let this slide with just a few cuts and bruises, but not me."

Ojiro was going to fling himself off the pole beside him but you managed to stand in time to stop him.

You made him crouch beside you and pulled him into a hug.

"Thank you, Ojiro, but I don't need your name dirtied because of what happened to me," you pat his back.

"Besides, they have injuries they can't heal that will affect their line of work because of me, and that has given me all the satisfaction I needed," you ended, a dark smirk on your face as you faced the two villains.

Soon, the two of them were apprehended and sent off to be contained. You and Ojiro headed back to your shared apartment and began to watch an episode of the show you both were watching together.

You loved the domestic life that you both shared. You did not crave adventure. So did Ojiro.

You both loved the indoors. Just being surrounded by comfort after a long day's work is all you both needed to re-energize yourselves.

You saw the popcorn bowl empty and headed to prepare more until Ojiro stopped you.

He turned off the TV and gave his wholehearted attention to you.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

You were all prepared to let it die off with the severe injuries of two villains, yet those six words managed to form your tears to form.

"I spent only four years with them, Ojiro. I lost them when I was going to turn 5 - the day right before my birthday," you began, "My quirk was the only thing keeping them alive within me. I lost my whole family thanks to one measle injection I could've easily avoided."

Ojiro pulled you into his lap and softly placed his tail on you. He knew you liked to touch it when you were sad or angry.

"Your quirk wasn't the only thing keeping them alive, love. The fact you worked so hard to become someone who your parents could be so proud of, the fact you didn't falter through all those trying times in your life, the fact you stood tall when everyone doubted you - that fighting spirit of yours," he touched the middle of your chest with his finger," That keeps them alive."

"You will always remember the training they gave you when they found out your quirk, right?" You nodded.

"You will keep the memories you've made with them in those precious years, right?" You nodded.

"You will always carry your last name, even when you're married, correct?" You nodded.

"Then what is there to worry about?" He said, pinching your cheeks.

"I fell in love with you because of who you are. I will always remember you as the little feisty person who made me see my talent and made me love myself."

He placed his head on your shoulder, rubbing the side of his face in the crook of your neck.

"You made me the hero I am today, and you will be known throughout the years as someone to be respected. And it's all thanks to your parents - to your family, isn't it?" He ended, giving a kiss on your neck.

This was it.

This is why you love this man.

He knew the main reason behind your pain and made it go away.

This is why you are going to marry him and make him the happiest man on Earth.

You turned to face him and gave a kiss on his forehead. "Thank you, Ojiro."

He just smiled and placed a kiss on your forehead, too. "Thank you, Y/N."

If the world was something that gave you a blessing amongst an array of curses, you both knew that he was your blessing as you were his.

Happy Ojiro Day! The Tailman himself is totally underrated, so let's give him some love today, hmm? (✿◡‿◡) As always, thanks for all the reblogs and the likes. I hope you enjoyed it :3

As usual, if you have any ideas or headcanons or just wanna talk to me, tell me here!

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herstarburststories · 4 years ago

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Beautiful Ghosts [p1]

A/N: HAPPY BDAY TO ME, YAY! The first chapter of this hopefully mini series is for @alleiradayne 's 1k celebration! Congrats, hon. A mix of angst and two kinds of comfort here. I gotta admit that I started working on this months ago and kept going until I was satisfied with how it was going. Hope you guys like this one! Divider by @talesmaniac89 !

Summary: Something as tribal as death wouldn't keep you away from Dean.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Prompt: I’m not going to leave you. You’re never going to have to suffer by yourself again, I promise.

Characters: Dean and Sam Winchester, you

Rating: PG 13

Word count: 2404

As always, you are in Dean's arms when the two brothers enter the bunker after a hunt. There isn’t any sound to break the silence, no raucous laughter, or even a snarky comment about today’s slain monsters. Their steps are stronger than usual, and one breath is missing.

Of course, it’s different from your usual entrance. Your arms aren't tangled with Dean's and his aren’t wrapped around your waist or shoulders. You are in his arms, yes, but you are lying still in a state of lifeless despondency. To think, he was once hopeful, stupid enough to believe that he'd only be carrying you like this when he was marrying you.

Sam is awfully quiet. He can think and organize a hundred words into speeches in his mind, but nothing comes out. The younger brother feels like a kid during a class presentation too worried to say the wrong word and receive the wrong reaction. Therefore, he chooses silence, just like the other Winchester. They both make room for the grief that way.

It's a silent agreement that you are gone for good. The spell used to bring Eileen back is no longer available, and there is no devil willing to make a pact — not that one would allow the others to do so, after all.

Dean still considers it. More than once, more than a million times between the drive back home when you laid in the backseat with your guts on the car's floor and putting your body on the couch with more tenderness he’d thought himself capable of.

He would come back to hell just to save you, even if it meant not staying to see you thrive. The agony would be more bearable if he knew that for each scream of his, there would be a grin of yours.

He has no hope now. All Dean Winchester has is anger and unprocessed grief slowly metamorphosing into sadness, hate, and bloodthirst. Even when he killed the fucking werewolf right after he laid his teeth on you, it wasn’t enough. He needed to make someone hurt as much as he did.

It was supposed to be an easy hunt, but isn’t that life with this job? It's usually supposed to be a quick thing, and then you are choking your own blood like it's tequila.

“She is in a better place now.” Sam is the first to speak, utterly doubting that his brother would make a noise if he didn't first.

Sammy was always full of faith, but this time it made Dean furious. “You don't know that.”

“Dean.”

“Don't, Sammy. Don't even fucking try. You know who we are and what Billie thinks about us. Do you think (Y/N) won't get the same destiny as we will? Alone in the empty, going crazy for years, decades!?”

“We can find a way—“

“No, we can't! We all signed her death sentence the minute we asked her to move in. And she—“ Dean cuts himself off with the sharp knife of silence, staving any hope left with harsh thoughts. The living room is maybe the most similar it’s ever been to the old glory days now: men of letters used to get frustrated there all the time, usually with a bottle of whiskey and a dead body on the floor, full of holes from experiments.

The eldest Winchester wants to scream, throw a chair, break a lamp. He’d do anything to get this heavy sensation out of his veins, as if every single drop of blood weighs 500 pounds.

Still, he doesn't fall on his knees.

An inconsistently wry smirk consumes Dean’s face, warped with grief. “I had to put her guts back in her body, you know? To carry her in the car.”

He lifts his hands. They are stained red. Sam purses his lips together, trying to find something to say that would have helped him when Jess died. Nothing but an annoying little voice saying time comes to mind. It's gonna be hard, but they will make it. They always do.

Sammy doesn't tell that to Dean, though. He isn't ready yet. And neither is Sam to vocalize the words.

We are gonna be okay because we always do. And the dead bodies end up like frightening memories and nothing else.

That would sound too cold, like most truths for hunters. If Sam says those words, it becomes real. Not even the bloodstained picture of murder is stronger than words of farewell. Besides, you were his best friend. He had to recompose and convince himself that everything would be okay before he helped Dean. For once, he had to be the brother who shut all the turmoil in to take care of the other

“I'm sorry, Dean.”

And then, Sam does the only thing that he could think of as useful for making the ache bearable. He hugs his big brother.

Dean struggles to get away from the hold, even with every fiber of his being screaming to remain there. “Let me go! Sam, I'm serious. Fucking let me go!”

“It's gonna be okay, Dean.”

“Let me go, Sammy! Now!”

“You are not alone, Dean. I'm here. She will be okay, too.”

“Let me go! Let me go! Let me go!”

Until he finally gives in, collapsing in Sam's arms like that little kid in Kansas who didn't want to cry in front of his dad after seeing his mom get killed.

There is blood on Sammy’s favorite shirt now, but he doesn’t care. He just tightens his embrace around Dean while his brother is lost into racking sobs.

His grief is just as expansive as Dean’s, their ragged souls laced with a sickening kind of sweetness that can only show up when someone you love needs help. It squirms and crawls in their guts to make a home that sticks. It’s their tiny comforts— the good feelings always show up in defiance of the ache like a plant growing on concrete. They just have to get the energy to look for them.

Everything is still the way you left it in Dean's bedroom. He didn't put your clothes away. You left your book on the shelf and kept your perfume in the wardrobe. Your pillow is still scrambled as if you had left for a couple of minutes to grab a cup of water and would soon come back to snuggle up to him. Well, it could always be from the fact that he's holding onto that piece of cotton for dear life. If he had long nails, his floor would be a complete mess now.

He's glaring at the wall, mind trying to come up with ways to cope with the growing ache in his whole body. Yes, the books and poets and films speak fondly about heartbreak, but he already threw the last glimpses of his bruised heart on the fire, burning with your body to the point no one could say it was ever in his chest to begin with. What could he do? There's always a way for the Winchesters. If Dean thinks hard enough, maybe he can defeat death. Maybe he can have you back.

Dean puts the pillow away after another sniff. The smell of your pepper shampoo is almost fading — he shouldn't have hugged it. Nonetheless, the green-eyed hunter focuses on coming up with ideas, and it's a stupid, humanly behavior when his mind goes to what desperate people usually seek.

Dean was never a pious man. The fact his mother died while angels were too busy watching over him to help her didn’t do it any good. Yet in stolen moments like these, he, like most humans, would bear his soul in a peace offering to all the holy things he doubted. The Winchester never prayed for himself, though. Who would answer his cry for help? He never deserved to be saved. So, he put his hands together and closed his eyes for who he cared about. As the Layla woman who told him to have faith or Sammy as something scandalous happened. It was rare, but Dean did that sometimes. He used to hope someone was listening. He doesn't pray anymore, not even now. Because he knows someone is listening, and he doesn't care.

Can an empty room seem crowded? Yes, when touch-starving grief is piled inside, begging to be seen. Why can't he allow himself to feel it? Why can't he cry? Why can't he just stop using anger as a comfort? Dean doesn't know. It used to be easier to cry before. He'd say he's lost his emotions, but the all-consuming anger and his ferocious barks to keep the hurt is burning proof he isn't yet.

Y/N died, and it's his fault. Y/N died, and it's his fault. Y/N died, and it's his fault.

His nostrils are opening, the wrath that swaths him as comfortable as his own skin. It’s not natural enough that he doesn't feel the burn, and you know he's going to break again. Your Dean doesn't break easily, but when he does, it's in a million little pieces that he wouldn't allow people to help pick them up. He’d rather shove them under the bed with his childhood monsters or bruising his hands as he exasperatedly tries to get them all by himself. You know he's going to shift into a storm and start breaking things. You know it's a temporary morphine, and the sickness will remain in the morning.

That's the incentive you need to try harder, to flash yourself into this plane of existence long enough to be seen. You force every fragment of yourself and light and whatever other pieces you are made of now to appear. To be heard. To show Dean he isn't all by himself again.

An image starts glitching in front of him. It’s rapid enough for Dean's reaction to come as a frown and his hand to snake around to the gun at the hem of his pants.

And then, he blinks and a heart-stopping joy hits him. He can't believe the unbreakable heaven that he's being blessed with. Every feeling that should be burrowed under his skin is fighting to come to the light, and God, he wants to. For the first time, he doesn't want to hold back because what was trying to come together finally is you.

You. You are standing right before his own green eyes. There is a soft look on your face. It’s laced with that pretty smile that’s always spread happiness to him as well. You are here, standing in his room, clean clothes and blood in your veins. Guts inside your body! He never imagined he'd be happy to think that.

Is this his heart? Oh God, it is. And it's beating. No, no. It's racing. His heart is working again and now he almost falls on his knees. The pain was never able to break him, but he had forgotten how strong happiness could be. He's relieved.

Dean's eyes burn when he looks at you. Maybe it’s because he’s too shocked to even blink or perhaps it is all the tears that were flowing. Who cares? That man would allow his entire body to collapse in flames if the smoke signaled you back home.

He takes a few steps, having the nerve to touch you — probably the most daring thing he has ever done. He is ready for you to dissipate, for that to be a dream, anything. And you don’t. You remain there. You don’t leave him too. Your usually warm body is gelid, but Dean doesn't care. It's an honest warning, yet he's happy to ignore those for once. You're here.

“Dean, I—“ Your voice. It's your voice saying his name. He recognizes the importance of a name now. For a brief moment, he's confused. What the fuck is happening? You purse your lips and Dean chortles in dismay, unable to discern his inner state of being. “I don't know what to say.”

“I thought I had lost you. I was so fucking scared, Y/N. I thought you were gone for good.” He's found the words for you, exhibiting his vulnerability so quietly. Your entire soul feels it— it's not true what they say. You don't stop feeling when you are dead. You start to feel everything deeper because after leaving your meatsuit, all that is left is your soul. And what's a soul but the patchwork of emotions? “I thought you'd never come back again. That I'd have to go on without you. I'm so sorry. It was my fault. I should have saved you.”

“No, Dean. Don't start self-loathing and all that. It wasn't your fault. What happened to us could've happened to any hunter. And if it happened to me, there is a reason for it.”

“A reason for you to be ripped apart?” He scoffs at your belief of fate. You always had a graceful heart in you, even after you met Chuck.

“I'm back, right? I told you I'd always be with you, and I'm here. Always.” You intertwine your fingers, and he watches your hands for a little while. While it’s difficult for him to grasp anything but pain nowadays, he accepts the rush of joy in his chest. Dean looks up, and you're still here, big eyes offering him a loving gaze. “I'm not going to leave you. You're never going to suffer by yourself again. I promise.”

He kisses you, and it feels like your emotions have finally found a perfect body to rest in when yours is a little bit tired — a place to call home. He kisses you, and everything is worth it. Because he kisses you. And you kiss him back.

Dean Winchester is a marvelous hunter. He should know that the cold his tongue experiences in your mouth while you two make out ferociously isn't quite right. You should feel fervid, and you are warm in every way of being but skin. He should pay attention to that. He should stop trying to make you come alive with love. Still, he can't bring his rational side to care. That man was always guided by emotion, anyway. What could matter more than you on his arms? Worries could be postponed because you did what no one else ever could.

You came back to him.

Leave a comment and reblog. Feedback is magic! Check my masterlist ♡

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guigz1-coldwar · 3 years ago

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'Enraged' : New chapter for "Redemption in a Spirit in a Cold War" is out !

'Enraged'

"I'm fighting for the good side, protecting the innocents from Perseus threat and anyone that can hurt them !"

Chapter Summary : After Garrett sacrified himself to save her life, Yirina is ready to unleash hell on every Naga's men and Perseus soldiers in the whole region before someone familiar came in.....

To read it on AO3, click here !

Words : +3400

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I lost Garrett...an friend that was believing in me since the first day we met an month ago thanks to Park and I wasn't able to save him from falling to his death, sacrifing himself so I could live further to fight but nothing will be the same now, not after what happened. I lost him and there's no way I can bring him back....he's dead. Park's long-time friend was no more, it will be so hard for me....to explain his death to her and to Song. I could still hear his last words, the same one Lazar said to me before his death....'Take care of Park'....the same...words....echoing in my head.

Right now, I was in an bigger rage after killing those two bastards who tried to check for any survivors at the crash site and meet me alive, blinded by the rage. I looked around me, hearing no one coming after I taunted Naga over the radio but where I was going to go right now ? Half of my equipment were in that chopper, my MP5 was gone, leaving me only with my M1911, some throwing knifes and the ballistic knife Garrett gave to me before leaving the base and that was it, nothing else.

The map I was using was on an empty seat until the helicopter crashed, meaning that I have nothing to guide me in this jungle and that I was fucking lost in that place with nowhere to go. I couldn't stay here awaiting the reinforcements to arrive as it would be Naga's men that will arrive first and staying here would be too dangerous, I couldn't risk that but I was so enraged that I was preferring to calm down before actually starting to move but it will never go away, it wasn't going to go until I got my hands on Naga's neck....

After an while to stay in that place, I finally got myself decided to move to check the bodies of the two guys I killed, trying to found some piece of informations that could help me to guide myself in the jungle and join back the others.

"You got to have something." I mumbled in an angry voice as I was checking the second body, the one I stabbed multiples time after I did the first one, finding nothing useful for me. "Come on." I chuckled in anger before I remove myself from the body, having like for the first one, find nothing else, only the radio I took from him was going to be useful to know about Naga's men whereabouts in the sector. "Why is nothing helping me ?" I whispered to myself, head down in defeat.

"Seems kinda lost here." Someone said in an clear voice behind me, causing me to quickly draw my M1911 from my holstler to aim at that direction....

"Adler ?" I said as I was seeing him...dressed in some black Perseus military suit, standing in front of me in an well shape despite an new beard and holding an submachine gun in his hands : an LC-10, I believe. "How ?" I added in an very silent voice.

"Guess that I was very tenacious against Perseus." He replied, sounding proud of himself as I lowered my gun off him, still shocked to see him here.

"And...and that ?" I pointed to his suit, unusual to have him wear that thing.

"Oh, that ?" He looked at his suit before looking back at me. "Stoled it from an prick during my escape from Naga's HQ." He finally responded to me but I was very curious about how he managed to escape that place.

"How did you manage to escape ?" My thoughts came out of my mouth literally, too late to back down.

"They kept their guard down, allowing me to make an move." He told me, checking his LC-10 mag before looking at me with narrowed eyes. "You're looking rather suspicious, Bell." He said, making my eyes go wide.

"Wait...why are you still calling me Bell ?" I demanded in an very serious voice, not understanding that sudden change.

"Why that question ?" He sniffed, almost laughing without me as I was clenching my fists. "I saw your helicopter crash from afar, is everything good ?" He asked me, brutally changing the subject.

"I....no...I'm the only survivor...my friend...he...he sacrified himself to make me live." I responded, mixed between my rage and my sadness, thinking about that moment.

"I'm sorry about your friend." He expressed but I could see through his voice that there were something wrong, like always.

"Like if you were sorry about anything with me." I tried to joke, walking to retrieve the throwing knife I launched on the first guy I killed.

"It's not the moment !" Adler exclaimed, seriously as he was looking not sure to get next to me.

"Oh hell yeah, it's the fucking moment to talk about it !" I raised my voice against him and even if he was true in his words, I wanted to know things. "I know too much about you to tell if you're lying or saying the truth, how much time you told the truth to me ?" I demanded, taking the throwing knife in where I put the others.

"We don't need to discuss about this, Bell." He repeated.

"Don't...fucking...call me....Bell !" I yelled, almost going to draw my M1911 again, not hesitating to shoot him in sight.

"I can't do an thing about it and you too !" He affirmed in an sure voice, still looking at him with narrowed eyes, ready to jump around his neck.

"What do you mean ?" I questioned him, interested in his last words.

"Well, to start, you're proclaiming that you're not longer Bell." He started, taking an breath and turning his head around for an few seconds to check the surroundings. "But you're wrong, Bell is still in you and you know that." He continued.

"Yes." I breathed.

"See ? You can't remove Bell from you and it's defining you." He added to his statement. I wasn't moving at all during his words as in my head, I was struggling to remove his words from it...I'm no longer Bell. "My memories are living in you and you can't back down."

"Your memories ? Yes, clearly to fuck me up, saying that I was your 'bestie' from Vietnam." I exclaimed, spreading my arms to make him look around. "You could have know that I was defecting but instead, you make me live hell."

"You weren't talking at all !" He confirmed, seeing him holding his LC-10 firmly.

"And why I wasn't talking, uh ?" I asked him "Tell me !" I added but he wasn't responding at all, making me draw my M1911 but not aiming against him even if I wanted to do it.

"I can't tell you why, Bell." He replied, still adressing me as 'Bell'.

"Don't..."

"Call you Bell ?" He guessed my words, cutting me, knowing that I was going to ask about it. "I told you, I can't do that, you're Bell and you can't change it." He affirmed again as I was making that angry face towards him.

"I can kill you right now, you know." I stated to him, holding my M1911 in my right hand.

"But we both know you will not do it." He admitted and...yeah...even with everything, I couldn't let myself to pull the trigger as an normal person will do. "See, you're hesitating but you will not do it." He continued, almost smiling to my face.

"You...you're right." I confessed in defeat, wondering why I wasn't pulling that damn trigger against him, he stoled my life, my future and I couldn't do it.

"Listen." He breathed, taking an look around. "I'm your only hope to get out of this place and join the others." He told me in an serious voice. "So, grab one of the AK-47 those pieces of trash used and follow me."

"Follow you ?" I raised an eyebrow to him, putting my M1911 away again for the second time. "I rather go on my own way instead of having you around." I said, giving my thoughts to him.

"And not avenging your friend ?" He told me, stopping me in my moves as I was going to go away in an different direction. "You don't want to kill the bastard who shot down that helicopter ?" He added, making me look back at him and he was right. I was so stupid to go on my own way.

"Because you know your way around ?" I demanded.

"Bell, I did the Vietnam War, I know every part of this jungle." He replied, bragging himself about his exploits. "I can feel the rage inside of you, you should follow me...to express your anger on those Perseus soldiers." He continued, slowly moving towards me. "You also did this war, remember ?" He moved to get next to the stabbed guy, tapping his feets on the AK-47. Why is he still sounding like if he wasn't giving an fuck about who I am in reality. "So, grab it and we're on our way to stop Naga." He then start to move away from the body before stopping next to an tree, awaiting for me.

"Okay, I will." I whispered, resigning to walk next to the stabbed body to take his AK-47 and the few mags he was having with him. "Let's go kill these fuckers." I affirmed after I check the mag that was on the gun.

"Good to see the Bell I know." He said, still making me angry in the inside to heard that name before I start to follow him away, feeling that rage growing inside of me.

I was still curious about how he succeed to escape Naga's HQ and how he managed to get this far from its location without been spotted by anyone and even the others, why did he joined me and not the others ? When I asked him about this, he wasn't either responding or he was saying that it was not important for me to know about it since he was there. All of that by still walking through the enormous Laotian jungle with him, extremely calm about the situation while me were enraged inside, ready to brutally slaughter Naga's men one by one until I found myself facing the man in person.

And during all our walk inside the jungle, I could still hear Garrett's voice in my head, saying his last words over and over again but also now, he was asking me to kill them all, kill every person that's working with Naga and that's an promise, no one was going to get out of here alive from the Perseus side....no...one ! As I was still in my thoughts, Adler stopped, having heard an distant screaming not so far from us and we quickly move to its direction before hiding behind some rocks to see who screamed.

In fact, it was one of us, probably someone from Rivas scout team, having been taken captive by two members of Naga's cartel and we couldn't risk to let him like that so with Adler, I decided to make use of my ballistic knife against the first guy and for an first try, I did good, hitting the guy right at his heart, making him fall on the ground before I move out from cover to launch an throwing knife to the last guy but he somehow managed to avoid that knife from me before I started to charge him.

I threw myself on him at his chest, falling on his back as I was quickly moving my right hand to grab my knife on my boot to stab the guy but he succeeded to block my attempts to touch him with the knife until I tapped the knife very hard with my other hand, breaking his control over me and managing to kill the guy, freeing me from him before I got my attention towards the man we just rescued.

"Thanks for the help !" I said in an low voice to Adler who was at an few meters from us before I kneeled behind the tied soldier. "You're okay ?" I asked him.

"Shit, I thought my time was passed." He replied, sounding relieved as I was cutting the ropes around his hands. "You're from the helicopter that crashed ?" He demanded and I nodded.

"You were with Rivas ?" He nodded to my question.

"Yeah, we were ambushed, an part of the team went immediately KIA, the other part was dispersed around the jungle while the others with Rivas went back to the LZ." He added to his nodding. "I'm Swift by the way." He said, telling me his name.

"Okay, Swift." I breathed, having finished to cut the ropes.

"There's an small outpost at an least 100 meters from here." Swift told me, looking at the direction of the said outpost. "We can attack it before joining the others." He proposed, his eyes on one of the guns of the dead guys.

"You heard that, Adler ?" I turned my head around to look at him.

"Yeah, this outpost is maybe the one holding the man who shot that rocket on your chopper, we should be on the move." He exclaimed in an clear voice before I look back at Swift, an disturbed expression on his face.

"What's wrong with you ?" He asked, making me confused but at this moment, I just saw someone arriving behind Swift and I couldn't react too quick that the man was in fact running with an knife in hand, hitting Swift at the back of his neck and throwing himself on him.

At this moment, I grabbed my M1911, making the guy pass above me as he was trying to charge me after doing it to Swift and in an second, I shot 3 bullets on his chest and an fourth one between the eyes, making sure that he was finally dead for sure before I decided to check Swift pulse.

"Damnit, he's dead." I said, checking the pulse before seeing the big knife cut behind his neck and then, looking back at Adler. "Why you didn't do anything ?" I demanded in an angry voice as Adler was the one watching the surroundings.

"I didn't see him coming...I wasn't looking in that direction." He replied in an suspicious normal voice towards me.

"But why you didn't shoot him, then ?" I asked him again.

"Because." He simply told me, making me raise an eyebrow. "Listen, we need to get on the move, take his dog tags and stop asking questions." He ordered me like that before starting to walk away from the scene in the outpost direction.

"I'm sorry, Swift." I whispered in an low voice, taking the dog tags with me and putting them in one of my pockets before following Adler, mainly forced to do it.

I was still asking myself why Adler didn't act to save one of his own that was in danger, letting me doing the work by myself but even with these questions that I directly ask to him, it was like before : either not responding or saying that I was bothering with my questions. Guess that I will never know why is he acting so strange right now even after succeeding to escape Naga's control and arriving to me.

As the outpost wasn't too far, we didn't spend too much time to arrive near it and I was surprised when I saw that it was just an simple little house with nothing around it, not even sandbags or an guard keeping an look outside to see that there were nobody to come, it was weird because I didn't see that house from the skies before, meaning that it must be an hidden outpost established.

"Looks like there's only an simple entrance." Adler said after we hide behind some trees to take an look an the house. "We charge inside and we will be emptying our mags on them."

"Sounds like an great plan." I told him as it was the only thing that we could do right now.

"Good, so let's move in front." He ordered as he start to slowly advance towards the house with me behind him and I was thinking about why he was acting like that before we arrived near the front door. "You're ready ?" He demanded in an low voice as it could be some people just behind that door so I nodded to him. "Then, let's do it old-fashioned style !" He exclaimed before he moved in front of the door to force open it.

At this moment, he was first in line, entering the house as I quickly move to get inside, him already blasting the big room filled with enemy soldiers, joining him to also fire all my bullets towards the soldiers that was surprised to see two people storming in that house in the middle of nowhere. It took one mag for me to clear the right side of the house and then, I could spot someone holding an RPG behind his back...the bastard who has maybe shot down our chopper.

Adler spot him too in an fast movement, firying multiples bullets towards the man, hitting mostly his kneecaps while he was trying to run away before no one except me, Adler and that soldier were alive in that house. It didn't take me too much time to walk straight towards the RPG man, grabbing him by force by the collar to put that guy on top of an table.

"Did you shot down an chopper ?" I asked the guy straight, feeling the rage inside my voice and my body.

"What ? I..."

"Answer her question !" Adler demanded, loudly, cutting the soldier out.

"You heard him." I said, pointing at Adler's direction who was standing near the door for the guy and like Swift....the same disturbed expression on his face. "Talk, you son of an bitch !" I yelled, making him look at my eyes, meeting with them.

"I...yes...I did...I shot down an Huey." The soldier replied, almost pleading for his life before I took the knife of my boot, placing it on top of his chest.

"That's for my friend." I whispered before I slowly move the guy towards the knife, planting it in his chest, to make him suffer slowly, his hands trying to stop it but instead of making it slower, I removed the knife and start to immediately stabbed him an countless number of times, like I did for the second guy I killed after the crash. "That's...for Garrett." I added, still in an low voice, releasing the dead guy on the table, seeing my hands in blood. I was still feeling that rage in me.

"Hey, guys !" I could hear an radio that was standing next to the guy, getting my attention on it. "You all want to hear an american speak ?" He demanded through the radio. "So, speak !"

"Go fuck yourself !" The american said but...that voice...it was Adler himself talking but...what the fuck ? As I was questioning myself, I heard someone clap in his hands.

"Nicely play, Bell !" Adler expressed with an smile, his gun dropping on the floor. "I think that you're liking all of this."

"What's going on ?" I asked him, confused as hell to hear his voice on the radio and seeing him here at the same time.

"Always terrible naive, I can say." He started, slowly approaching me, hands in the back. "I'm not even here, to be honest." He scoffed and in an moment of rage, I finally draw my M1911 at Adler's direction and finally find the courage to pull the trigger but when I removed my finger from the trigger, he wasn't there.

"What the...." I stopped myself, in an loss of words.

"You can't kill me, Bell !" I turned around to see Adler again, dressed in the same clothes from Solovetsky, the same one he weared at that place....all this time, it was an simple vision and I was stupid to not check that before. "I'm just one of your vision, tormenting you. You let an man die today."

"No." I breathed, lowering my gun in shock.

"You're always an good pawn, time for you to get some rest." He then clapped his hands in front of my face, making me blind my eyes and seeing his face, still smilling. "Bell, we have an job to do !" He said it again....after all these times, he said it again. It's been almost an long time I didn't hear it but I couldn't control it as I fall on my knees, so weak before I fall on my back, dizzy and watching Adler standing on top of me.....

"You were never an hero, Bell...just one of my pawns !"

#cod bocw #cod cold war #cod black ops cold war #cod cw #call of duty cold war #cod #call of duty #black ops cold war #cod bell #yirina grigoriev #fem!bell #helen park

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mr-and-mr-diaz · 4 years ago

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Ahhh, I can't pick an AU from the list so whichever one you like best ❤

It took a minute to be bitten by the right bug for this one @therogueheart but here we go!

THE DAMNED DISGRACE: A Buddie Pirate! AU:

“Buck!” This couldn’t be happening…!

“Buck! Buck!!” Maddie was being dragged away from him and all he could do was watch…

“Buck!”

Buck’s eyes shot open at the last one. That wasn’t Maddie’s voice, it was her lover’s. Call me Chimney. Sure enough, The man was crouching over his cot, shaking his shoulder. “I found them.”

Buck was instantly awake, sitting up. “How?! No, no matter, will they help us?”

Chimney shrugged. “Not sure yet. I got a meeting with some of the crew in an hour at The Hangman’s Noose. Get dressed.”

Buck snorted at that. Get dressed. He was already wearing his only shirt, and his pants hung from a nail on the wall above his head. A far cry from the carefully kept suit coats and neckerchiefs of his teaching days. He reached for the pants and pulled them on, before running fingers through his too-long hair. It curled around his ears and over his forehead now, a look he despised. So vulgar, Evan, like a common waif, his father’s disapproving tone rang in his ears. He reached over to the cracked water basin and gathered some in his palm, splashing it over his hair and forcing the errant strands back. “Let’s go.”

Chimney led the way out of the decrepit inn they had managed to find a room at, and through the slurried streets of the harbor, ducking around hawkers and shoving aside pickpockets. Buck struggled to follow, envying Chimney his inherent ability to navigate, while simultaneously thanking God a thousand times over that he had the man’s help at all.

He didn’t know Chimney’s real name, nothing about him at all, except that the man had all but dropped on top of him not a day after Maddie had been abducted by Commodore Douglas Kendall of the royal navy. Buck had still been inconsolable, barely able to stand for fear and panic while his own parents went about their lives, insisting that a commodore was a finer marriage than they could have expected for someone of their standing and Buck should be happy for her. They had not seen the terror on Maddie’s face, hadn’t been held to the floor by four men with a gun trained to his head while the commodore laughed, didn’t have her screams of terror and calls for help still ringing in their ears while he was able to do nothing but watch.

When his own parents preferred to pretend Evan did not exist, Maddie had been a beacon of love and care. She’d pulled him out of his self-imposed obscurity and helped him earn his teacher’s license, enabling him to pay her love forward to other children who just needed someone to believe in them. Maddie was his whole world, and then she was taken.

And there had been nothing Buck could do about it until Chimney had forced his way into Buck’s bedroom three days later, holding a knife to a guilt-and-grief stricken Buck’s neck, demanding to know what they’d done with her. Buck's ill pallor and multiple bruises and cuts went a way toward convincing Chimney that Buck had not been complicit in Maddie’s abduction. The final straw had been Buck dissolving into Chimney’s less-than-prepared arms and bawling like a child.

Chimney was Maddie’s lover of two years. He worked as a chimney-sweep, which Buck could only assume was the source of his nickname. They had planned to run away and marry as soon as they had enough money to start a new life together. Maddie was supposed to meet him a few days ago, and he’d assumed when she didn’t show for three days that their illicit love had been discovered and she’d been sent away to prevent the elopement.

“Buck!” Chimney called at him, and Buck forced himself to focus on the present, pulling a small pickpocket’s hand out of his already-empty pocket with an apology and picking up his pace to catch up with Chimney. Chimney had been understandably reluctant to bring Buck with him on the search, but Buck had threatened to go it alone. It was also Buck that had come up with the hare-brained idea to rescue Maddie, an idea that--if they were truly lucky--was about to find wings.

“This is it.” Chimney murmured. He looked Buck up and down and then snorted, reaching up to muss up Buck’s carefully water trained hair. “Let me do the talking, okay kid?”

Buck nodded, resisting the urge to try and pat his unruly curls back into place as they stepped into the dimly lit pub.

Raucous music competed with yelling and loud laughter, making the room feel even more full than it already was. Buck kept a close tail on Chimney, terrified of getting lost amidst the motley mix of patrons mingling around. Soon enough they arrived at a table in the far back. It listed to the side a little, its sticky top home to two mugs of ale. At the table sat two men, both looking rough and worn around the edges.

“Chimney Han?”

“Yeah.” Chimney sat down and gestured for Buck to do the same.

The first man nodded quietly and waited. The second man, clearly the lower ranking of the two, eyed Buck, a leer growing on his face.

“You been on the harbor long, Your Grace?”

Buck startled. “What? I’m not--”

Chimney nudged him in the side, silencing him. “You with the crew of The Disgrace?”

The second man chuckled. “That’s us. What do you want?”

“We want to join your crew.”

The first man’s eyes narrowed and he sat forward. “Why?”

Chimney snorted. “We heard you’re the only tars stupid enough to go after Commodore Douglas of the navy, and we want to help.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “What’d he do to you?”

“Made off with my future wife. This man’s sister.” Chimney poked Buck. “We want her back and we want to make him pay.”

The man nodded slowly. “What kinda work are you good for?”

“I can fight knives, hand-to-hand, and I’m good for any work. I was a chimney sweep so I’m not afraid of heights either.” Chimney remarked. He clapped a hand on Buck’s shoulder. “Buck isn’t as experienced, but he’s tall and strong and willing to learn and work hard.”

Buck nodded dumbly, praying he looked earnest and tough and helpful enough.

“I dunno, Cap, I’ve seen his type before.” A hand clamped on Buck’s shoulder from behind and Buck startled terribly, whipping around in his seat. “Burning red as a lobster on day one, never get their sea legs, useless dead weight.”

A man was looking down at him. He was deeply tanned and tall. Though Buck was fairly certain he was taller by an inch, the man standing behind him was broader and packed with muscle.

The man took in Buck’s face and chuckled. “Look at you. You startle so easily, like a child. And you think you’ll be useful to us?” He sneered. “What did you do before you decided to try joining the most damned pirate crew on the seas?”

“Me?” Buck did not like this man, but he fought to hide it and keep his composure. “I’m a… was a teacher.”

“A teacher?” Buck turned back to the man called Cap. His eyebrows were raised in surprise, and he assessed Buck and Chimney both before nodding.

“I don’t like it.” Eddie interjected.

“You don’t have to, Eddie.” Cap smiled and rose in his chair. “They’re coming with us.”

“What?!” Both men turned to Cap, but he ignored them, instead facing Chim and Buck his voice steel. “The rules are simple: You don’t pull your weight, you go overboard. You try to betray us to the navy, we’ll cut you into small pieces and send them to your sister. Everything else you’ll learn on the ship.”

Chim nodded. “Fine by me.”

Cap turned to Buck.

“Yes, of course! I swear! Thank you!” Buck shot out of his seat and reached out a hand to shake. “We won’t let you down, Mr. Cap!!”

He heard a loud sigh from the angry man--Eddie--behind him and the man sitting next to Cap laughed. “That’s our Captain Nash, you toff.”

“Oh.” Buck turned beet red and quickly lowered his hand. Next to him, Chimney sighed, but rose as well.

“You won’t regret it, Captain Nash.”

“If I regret it, you’ll regret it more.” The captain rose. “Let’s go.”

#buddie #buddie fic #buddie fic prompt #9-1-1 #should this be multi-chapter #still not sure #its the start of something no doubt #buddie pirate!AU #therogueheart

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