#they still hold a tiny shard of myself

[tiffaluvr]

me when it's pride month so I remember those two ocs I had that had this complex romance but ended up being boyfriends and decide to pull them up from the void again

[shotmrmiller]

im ngl i've been driving myself insane with the thought of harboring Ghost in your home. Like in the 09 mission The Hornet's Nest where Roach falls off the one roof?

Yeah, make that Ghost and there's no other choice but for the guys to leave him behind. The LZ is too hot, the enemies are swarming like moths to a flame.

The floor comes to him.

He grits his teeth at the agony, choking back a scream. Ghost just fell off a height that should've broken at least a couple ribs; maybe they did, he doesn't know, there's too much adrenaline coursing through his veins.

He's seeing duplicates, the buildings in front of him blurred. There's buzzing in his head, loud like bees. His chest aches, it burns with the lack of oxygen. His throat feels swollen as he wheezes; each breath feels like shards of glass in his lungs.

The white noise dissipates slowly. His vision realigns, lines and details sharpening. The unseen force that squeezed his throat finally lets go, setting him free from its deadly hold., his chest expanding to the point of discomfort— deep inhale, loud exhale.

Breathe. Focus.

There's radio chatter in his ear— Price snarling at Nikolai to fucking wait, that they can't leave him there in the hornet's nest but even with his vision blurred, Ghost can see that they're getting lit up, and he's not gonna have the entire team blow to bits in the helo over him.

He's just one man, and there's a whole world to save.

There's a searing pain in his arm when he shifts, he can't remember the last time his eyes welled up with tears, but fuckin' hell does it hurt.

His hand trembles violently, and it takes him a couple of tries to finally get his thumb to firmly press down on the button of the radio in the front of his tac vest.

"Leave me! Just go!" he roars.

Price argues back that no man is to be left behind, but Ghost can hear far too many voices in a different language get louder. They'll be killed hovering in the air like that.

"Price! Go!"

The voices in his ear are deafening. He rips off his headset, letting it sit around his neck.

The helicopter above him disappears.

Good.

The avalanche of footsteps gets closer and with a strangled noise that scrapes the back of his throat, he moves. Move to safety, get away from them, hide.

Ghost pushes forward until he stumbles, falling onto one knee— using his injured arm to stabilize. White hot pain licks from the wrist up, flames threatening to consume him whole.

A few stray tears escape the corners of his eyes.

He's too blinded by the throbbing in his body to realize that someone is grabbing his other arm.

"Can you hear me?"

Ghost thinks he might be hallucinating your voice. His agony is transcendent.

"Hey! We don't have much time!"

He turns his head to his left, and there you are. A civilian, by the looks of it. And you're trying to lead him away. Where? Are you leading him to a trap?

"Quickly! They're almost here! I can hide you, but you need to get on your feet!" you piped.

Ghost gets up without a fight, decision-making dulled by everything he's feeling.

"Come on, this way!" Your hand grabs his forearm tightly as you drag him away. He trudges behind you, breathing ragged.

Clarity comes and goes, but then he feels your small palms push him forward, into your tiny home.

His eyes drag as he takes in his surroundings. A tiny television in the living room to his left, and an ugly brown couch placed in front of it. To this right is your kitchen, food still steaming on the stove, and a scratched teak dinner table with just two chairs sits by a dirty window.

Quaint.

"Okay, okay. They shouldn't come in here, but if they do, I want you to go to the bathroom and sit in the tub with the curtain closed. Understand?"

His chin tips forward unbidden.

"Good. Uhm, I saw that your right arm is injured. A makeshift splint will have to do, alright?" You briskly walk away, opening the cabinet underneath the kitchen sink.

Ghost stiffens, swallowing thickly. If you pull anything underhanded, he's going to have to kill you.

The tension melts from his shoulders when he sees that you're simply pulling out a first aid kit, and some other stuff to wrap his most likely broken arm up.

You pull out a chair before opening the kit. "Sit. I'm not standing while I do this."

He huffs but complies. "Yes, ma'am." Unafraid to order a stranger around. How peculiar.

The minutes drag on, each one more agonizing than the last. It's a relentless cycle of pain... until it finally stops. The residual pain makes him dry heave.

"Whoa there, please don't puke."

Ghost gives a pained chuckle. "I'll try."

Your fingers tighten the knot in the fabric. "Can't say it's pristine, but it's better than having your arm dangle uselessly, I think." You stare at your handiwork for a second longer, before rising from your seat.

"I'm not sure who you are, but you look like actual military and not a thug with a gun. Did you have a team?" you quietly ask as you put away the medical supplies.

He cuts his eyes to you and doesn't answer.

"Yeah, I suppose it wouldn't be smart of you to blindly give information I don't need to know."

He shakes his head imperceptibly.

"Right. Well, I'm sure you know that we need to lay low, so unfortunately, that means no tv. Sorry." How cheeky.

Ghost simply hums in response.

He looks down at his injured arm. It's wrapped tightly, enough to keep it from moving but not enough to cut off his blood flow.

Not the work of a regular civilian.

You must've noticed him scrutinizing your work because you speak up. "I've worked in the medical field before. Nothing spectacular, but I can deal with a broken bone or two."

He closes his eyes, feeling the exhaustion of the day creep up on him.

So bloody tired.

Ghost takes a breath and opens his eyes. No rest for the wicked, he thinks.

He puts his headset back on, as well as he can with his one arm.

There's a crackling sound in his ear.

[arctickat2400]

Love You More ~ Henry Cavill

Henry Cavill x Reader

Word Count: 2470

Warnings: insecure!reader, fluff, angst, tiny bit of blood, negative self talk

A/N 1: You can picture yourself wearing whatever you want in this, but I've originally pictured myself wearing a cropped tank top and underwear cuz even though I'm insecure about my body, I love chilling around the house without pants, and in my head I know Henry loves it too lol

A/N 2: You will see in this imagine that I mention a blanket. It is a type of sensory blanket, a small square of fabric that my mom made me that contains eight tags made of ribbon around the edges. It helps me when I'm anxious (which is basically 24/7) in which I will rub the tags between my fingers to calm my mind, keep my mind and hands occupied.

Hope you enjoy!!

***

You hate what you see when you look in the mirror - your soft belly, thick thighs, wide hips, love handles, cellulite-covered skin. You loved when friends and family complimented you, but your mind never believed them. Looking at each and every detail of your body, your mind becomes overwhelmed and your emotions become too intense. A shrill scream escapes your throat as you ram your fist into the glass, shattering it to pieces. You watch in tears as the shattered glass falls from the surface before your legs give out and you collapse to the cold tile floor. 

Henry had just gotten home about an hour ago. You had seemed fine then, happy to see him as usual, jumping into his arms as he pulled you into a sweet ‘hello’ kiss. However, as he sat at the kitchen island on his laptop reading over his script waiting for you to join him again, Henry knew that that had all changed when he heard your heart wrenching scream.

Henry paid no mind to the bar stool toppling over as he stood and ran up the stairs toward the sound that scared him most, Kal right on his heels. Rushing into the bathroom to see your curled up in tears on the floor, Henry doesn’t hesitate to kneel down beside your shaking body. Taking your trembling body in his arms, Henry tries to keep his own tears at bay when he sees the blood and tiny glass shards on your knuckles. Looking up at the now non-existent mirror and the shattered glass across the floor, Henry knows exactly what’s going on in your mind, holding you tighter in his strong embrace as you cry in agony. Henry looked at Kal sitting patiently in the bathroom door, and he knew he was just as worried as his father was about his mother. 

You’ve always been insecure about your body, even though Henry never ceases to tell you how much he loves your body. He thought that after you met him, you were getting better. And you have, but still, on those not so rare days, you’ll break down in tears. He hates that nothing has been able to help you long term. But, Henry is always there to hold you and take care of you, no matter what, and he vows to always be there for you. 

“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you,” Henry whispers in your ear softly as he rocks you in his lap. You hold on to his arm, squeezing his bicep in your grip despite the pain in your right hand. Henry runs his fingers through your hair, placing a kiss to the top of your head, trying to soothe your angered mind. 

Henry listens as your labored breaths begin to calm, looking down to see your eyes closed. He let out a sigh of relief, even if it was only temporary, when he realized you had fallen asleep. 

You’ve been suffering with chronic fatigue for so long and it’s taken a toll on you physically, mentally, and emotionally. It prevents you from doing certain everyday things. Henry’s been there for you through it all and you can’t imagine how hard it would be without him. You could never thank him enough for how amazing he’s been since you met. But he hates that neither of you have been able to find a way to help. Some may say that what you’re going through needs to be fixed. However, Henry doesn’t want to fix you, because he doesn’t believe there’s anything broken. You just need a bit of extra love and care, and he has vowed to spend the rest of his life giving you that and more.

Henry, still holding your sleeping form in his arms, your head lying against his chest, leans forward into the bathroom cabinet under the sink to grab the rubbing alcohol and a washcloth. He takes a pair of tweezers and begins pulling out the small, yet knowingly painful shards of glass from your skin. He was thankful you were out cold so you didn’t have to experience the pain consciously. Kal, having laid down in the doorway, cried out after having smelled the blood and watching Henry take care of his mum. 

“It’s alright, bear. Mum’s alright,” Henry assures his dog, looking over with a half smile to see Kal’s face lying on his paws, staring at the scene in front of him. 

After all the pieces were out, Henry washes over your knuckles with the alcohol, cleaning the blood from your cuts and down your hands where the blood ran. Once clean, he wraps gauze around your hand before picking you up and carrying you bridal style to your shared bed. Henry places you down carefully, covering you in the comforter before placing a sweet kiss to your forehead. He patted the bed softly for Kal to jump up and keep you company while Henry went back into the bathroom to pick up the broken glass. 

Henry couldn’t bear to leave you after what you just went through, so after cleaning, he sat in the recliner beside your bed, looking over you to make sure you were okay. Smiling sweetly at the sight of Kal’s large, fluffy head laying down on your thigh, Henry picked up his book from his bedside table to read. He always kept an eye on you, looking up every now and then when you would stir, only to turn over to get more comfortable in your sleep. 

After a while, it seems Henry had been reading the same sentences over and over, having trouble comprehending the words on the pages. His mind was plagued with thoughts of you and how all he wanted to do was help you, take care of you, love you so you wouldn’t think such horrible things about yourself anymore. 

The anxiety got the best of him, needing to get up and walk around instead. Henry stood up, placing a kiss on your forehead and, making sure you were still alright, he headed down the stairs quietly, Kal staying behind while cuddling up next to you. Henry paced around the loft - through the living room, down the hall, even going back up the stairs and into the bathroom before coming back out and passing you again on the bed. Kal raises his head each time Henry would pass before laying his head back down beside you. 

Henry finally ends up back downstairs and in the kitchen, leaning on the island, rubbing his face in slight distress. Henry hated seeing you in such pain. He hated that he couldn’t take the pain away, or at least some of it, take some of the weight off your shoulders and help you carry it. He hated that he couldn’t help you and make it all better. But he also knew that he would not stop trying, and he would continue to love you through it all.

Henry is in his own world when you decide to make your appearance, Kal following you down the steps and into the kitchen. He hadn’t noticed either of you until you came up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, laying your head between his shoulder blades. 

“Hey, darling,” He greets softly, a sweet smile coming to his lips at just the mere presence of you. He brings one hand up to smooth over your bandaged hand that’s placed across his chest, intertwining your fingers. Henry turns in your embrace, taking you into his arms and holding your head to his chest, brushing his hand through your hair, his other hand gently rubbing your side.

The longer you stand there, the easier it is for your mind to become overwhelmed again with negative thoughts. Henry feels you start to shiver, hearing your soft sniffles as tears cascade down your cheeks.

“Shh, shh, shh. It’s okay, baby. Everything’s alright,” Henry tries calming you before placing his hands under your thighs and picking you up. You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, clinging to him like a koala. He rubs your back as he carries you to the couch. Sitting down, he holds you in his lap for a little while longer, Kal jumping up on the couch and laying beside you, placing his head on your thigh, looking up at you with sad eyes. As your sniffles and cries die down, Henry, with a bit of hesitation of your own, pushes you back, holding you close enough to be able to see your beautiful, but sorrowful red eyes. 

“What’s going on, sweetheart? Tell me what’s on your mind,” Henry requests as he brushes his thumb over your red, tear stained cheeks, looking into your eyes with such worry and sadness, yet the love and adoration never ceases.

You look down at your hands, picking at the skin, before Henry takes both your hands in his while leaning forward to grab your blanket from the coffee table, handing it to you. 

“I’ve just… I’ve been so tired lately. And I’ve been eating so much that I’ve gained weight. I’ve hardly been able to control my hunger and my mind is plagued by food, and all I can think about is how much I hate myself and my body because I can’t control any of this and I’m sick of being so damn tired all the time!” You pause, your breathing becoming heavy and labored, tears rushing from your eyes, as you smooth your fingers over one of the tags on your blanket. 

“And it doesn’t help that the thought keeps coming to me that you didn’t sign up for this and I’m scared you might feel like you’re stuck with me and how could you still love me like this?” You almost scream in tears, Kal letting out a worried whine in response. Henry takes you back into his arms, a look of panic on his face as he holds your head against his chest, his other hand smoothing down over your hair.

“Hey, hey, hey, no, baby. I’m right here. I’m not leaving you. This is the only place I want to be. If I could hold you forever, that’s exactly what I’d do,” Henry holds you tight as you cry for the next several minutes, fisting his shirt in your grip as you couldn’t keep your tears at bay. 

“Can you look at me now, princess?” Henry asks you, placing his hands on either side of your face, pulling you back to look at him. You sniffle as you lock eyes with his mesmerizing cerulean blue eyes. He gives you a reassuring smile, rubbing his thumbs across your temples.

“Listen very closely, my love. I have told you so many times, and it will never cease to be the truth, darling - no matter how you look, how much you weigh, how much you eat, now matter how much of literally anything you do, I will always, always, love you, no matter what. I don’t care if you lose or you gain weight. I love you for you, and I will always love you. There is not a single thing about you that could change that.” He has to repeat some things so he knows that it will be ingrained in your mind.

“Because the truth is, baby,” Henry pauses briefly with a smile, chuckling. “I can only ever love you more. Every day, when I think I can’t possibly love you more, you will do something crazy or silly, or say something absolutely outrageous, and it just makes me love you so much more. I still don’t know how you do it, but you never cease to amaze me, my sweet baby girl. And nothing about your body will ever change that,” He says it all with a huge smile on his face, his eyes never leaving yours, and you find yourself crying not sad tears, but happy ones now as you rush into Henry’s arms.

“I love you so much,” You whisper in his ear, holding onto him tight, your fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“You, my love, are the most magnificent woman I’ve ever met, and there will never be a day where I stop loving you, because it is impossible for me not to love you,” Henry admits, his arms tightening around your torso. He kisses the side of your head before you pull back, placing your hands on either side of his head now, leaning in and pressing your lips to his in a passionate expression of pure love and devotion. 

“Now, if you are ever thinking anything negative about your body again, my beautiful girl, you make sure to come straight to me and I will do everything in my power to make those thoughts go away, promise me?” Henry demands, firmly but in sweet assurance. 

You nod your head with a small smile, “I promise.” Henry smiles as he looks down and begins rubbing across your tummy with his knuckles.

“You do know that even though I’m not with you for your body, I still believe you are absolutely, breathtakingly gorgeous? There is not a single day I don’t look at you and think, ‘Damn, how did I get so lucky to be able to hold this stunning human being in my arms everyday?’ I mean how could someone not love this adorable belly of yours?” Henry chuckles as he leans down and blows a raspberry against your tummy. A deep red blush comes to your cheeks as a laugh erupts from your lips.

“I think it’s the other way around, my love.” You giggle, calming down as Henry, still with a smile on his face, comes back up and looks up into your eyes while rubbing your soft sides, his thumbs brushing over your belly. “How did I get so lucky to meet not only the handsomest man on earth, but the most caring, loving, warmest man with the biggest heart of gold who never ceases to tell me how much he loves me?” You smile shyly, your thumb brushing across his bottom lip. 

“We’re just a match made in heaven, my darling,” Henry says as you both laugh softly together, meeting in a sweet kiss, Henry’s hands on either of your thighs, holding you to him. 

You feel something cold against your arm and you both look down to see a smiling Kal looking up at both of you. “Hi, sweet boy,” You smile at Kal, running your fingers through the thick fur on his head while you lean forward to lay your head on Henry’s shoulder as he wraps his arms around you, thanking God for this extraordinary woman he gets to call his. 

[gtgbabie0]

Heyyy it’s me again hehe!

I was thinking clumsy reader that always dropping things, tripping over, spooking herself out etc etc. basically Leon goes into a fit of worry when he hears something drop or when she yelps - but she’s just clumsy. Totally 100% not referring to myself here; just so you know.

- Leon Kennedy x reader

Oh my! He would be so very caring!! 💕

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Leon absolutely loves you, his heart is wholly yours. But goodness did you give him heart attacks sometimes. You were clumsy and yet even that felt like an understatement, your clumsiness was something Leon didn’t think was even possible it was that bad, he often felt like he had to baby-proof the entire house.

It was late afternoon and Leon had gotten back from the agency. You were just cleaning up the small stuff around the kitchen whilst he showered and without even noticing your arm must’ve knocked the dish strainer because the next thing you know the whole thing comes crashing down onto the floor, plates, bowls and cutlery all spread out over the kitchen floor with a very loud crash.

Leon’s heart has never dropped so fast, and he’s hit with a sudden overwhelming feeling of nausea. He was just about to blow dry his hair when he heard the crazily loud commotion and a yelp. He’s quick to drop the hair dryer running down the stairs as fast as he can, missing steps as he does.

“I’m okay- I’m alright,” you tell him as he rushes into the kitchen, stopping as he looks at the mess on the floor. His eyes scan over your body to check for any injuries.

“Baby, what the fuck?” He sighs catching his breath as he guides you carefully from the broken porcelain shards, holding your hand gently.

You smirk at him, noticing that he’s shirtless and the way his shower-damp hair sticks to his forehead and tiny little droplets of water trickle down onto his shoulders.

“Don’t look at me like that- you almost gave me heart failure” he says with no control over the smile that teases his lips when you begin to giggle at him.

He feels older than he is around you, and he swears you will give him grey hairs. But then again he couldn’t complain without you he’d be completely and utterly lost in this crazy world.

You watch as his eyes widen ever so slightly looking down at the small little cut that scratches at your arm, it must’ve happened when you bumped into the dish strainer. You sigh looking down at the blood that trickles from the cut.

“Baby, you’ve got to be more careful,” he tells you with an almost firm tone, but you know it only comes from a place of love, he cares far too much about you. He grabs the first aid kit you keep in one of the cupboards, washing the tiny cut with an alcohol wipe before gently sticking the plaster to your minor injury.

He notices the guilt that seeps into your facial expression, how your eyes seem to drop, “I’m sorry, I just don’t want you getting hurt” he whispers, brushing your hair from your face as he presses a loving kiss to your cheek.

You both look over to the mess that still covers your kitchen floor, “God, I made such a mess” you sigh, resting your head against his chest.

“Yeah, good luck with cleaning it” he teases, laughing at the way your groan against him.

You close your eyes as if that would make the mess magically disappear, and his hand settle against your hips.

“You wouldn’t let me clean this all by myself,” you tell him with confidence in your chest.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” He questions tilting your chin with his thumb as he makes you look up at him.

“Because you love me too much” you giggle as he rolls his eyes, peppering kisses all over your face.

“Mhm, come on let’s clean up- and you’re banned from the kitchen for the rest of the night” he says. You smile at him with endearment as you both get to work on cleaning up the of dishes that are spread across the floor.

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[emlovessid]

@jegulus-microfic january 23, perform, 486 words part one, part three

After he gets over the shock enough to sweep up the shards of his mug from the floor, Regulus sits down on his couch and pulls out his phone, googling James Potter. While there was still a tiny sliver of him that wasn’t completely convinced, there’s no doubt left in him now as he looks through the search results.

Because pictured under the headline Global superstar, James Potter, set to headline summer tour across the US is the very same James who was here in his flat only last week; in his kitchen, in his shower, in his bed.

Pulling up his contacts, he clicks on James’ number and brings his phone to his ear.

After ringing a couple of times, James answers, “Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise.”

James isn’t wrong. While they text back and forth, and literally can’t stay away from each other whenever James is in town, they haven’t really progressed to just chatting on the phone; until now.

“How’s Edinburgh?”

“Oh, you know. Raining.”

Regulus looks out his own window at the rain that has been steadily falling for days; it comforts him, like he can almost pretend that James is just across town, instead of in another country.

“So, this is a little embarrassing, but I’ve just come across a bit of information that makes me think I might be the least observant person on the planet,” Regulus begins, the sound of James’ laughter filling his ear.

“Okay, go on.”

“I heard your new song.”

“Oh, they’re playing it already? I sent you a vinyl with a very nice thank you card that you were supposed to get before it was released,” James groans. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“No, of course not. It’s a beautiful song. It’s just,” Regulus pauses, a little nervous as he says, “You’re James Potter.”

“Yes?” His confusion is obvious in his voice, and Regulus can imagine the exact look he’s sure he has on his face right now.

“You’re James Potter. And I had no fucking idea.”

A pause. “Wait, really? Holy shit, I definitely thought you knew.”

“Here I was, imagining that you perform in pubs in front of like, fifty people. When you’re actually out there performing in front of fifty thousand. I’m such an idiot.”

He can hear laughter in James’ voice, laughter he’s definitely trying to hold back as he says, “I’m sorry. I really thought – it’d be a bit pretentious of me to introduce myself and be like, I’m James Potter, you might have heard of me, you know?”

“Oh this is definitely on me, not on you,” Regulus says. “Anyway, just wanted to fill you in on that revelation. Now I’m going to go off and listen to your entire discography. And read every article ever written about you. Bye.”

The last thing he hears before hanging up is James’ booming laugh.

[sashaisready]

This Must Be The Place: Chapter 4 - Pick me up

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Brief mention to reader’s (small) injury, references to past motorcycle accident and life changing injury.

Thanks so much for the response to this story so far, I'm aiming to update at least once a week - hopefully more some weeks - but life is quite busy at the moment. All your reblogs and comments are so appreciated, thank-you!

You sat awkwardly on a rickety old desk in the backroom as Bucky carefully pulled the tiny shards of glass from your arm with a tweezer. He’d already checked out your head injury, which was barely an injury at all really, a mere scratch and small bump. After a few tests he seemed satisfied you weren’t concussed, so he’d moved on to the glass wound.

He still seemed mad, so you kept quiet, trying not to concentrate on his proximity. His fingers moved agilely and delicately despite his hefty frame, but you supposed it made sense that someone who worked on cars and motorcycles most of the day would be good with their hands.

Your mouth pulled into a grimace as he pulled another shard out and then quickly cleaned the area with antiseptic, causing you to hiss.

“Almost done…” he said monotonously.

“Thanks” you replied.

Your tone was sheepish, you felt a little embarrassed that he was now patching you up after you’d clapped back at him. Your mouth sometimes got ahead of you like that. But it was hard not to feel aggrieved when he was also making you feel like a kid who’d been sent to the principal’s office.

“Hold still…” he scolded.

Yeah…just like that.

“I am still”.

“No…you’re moving. Cut it out”.

“You cut it out!”

He sighed heavily. “Whatever…”

The two of you stewed in silence for a few more minutes until he pulled the final piece out and cleaned and bandaged the wound, then meticulously packed everything back into his medical kit. You thanked him and kept your head down, running your fingers across the bandage as you wondered what to say. You didn’t normally feel shy around Bucky, but the incident with the customer and your subsequent squabbling had thrown you off. Your general feelings towards him seemed to oscillate between sheer lust and intense annoyance.

“So…I guess you’ll be quitting then” he said glumly as he turned around and put the kit back into a desk drawer.

You looked up, surprised. “Huh?”

“After this, I mean” he cleared his throat. “I guess you’ll be quitting the job”.

“Why?”

He turned towards you; confusion and annoyance evident on his face. “…Because you got assaulted by a customer and I didn’t stop it?”

You tilted your head in sudden understanding. “That’s why you’re being so pissy? You think I’m going to quit?”

He frowned; his tone clipped. “Why wouldn’t you? You don’t need this shit on top of all your house stuff”.

Well…he was sort of right. You didn’t really need the money (although it helped), and you really didn’t need to be dealing with drunk guys trying to bottle you…but…in all honesty? You’d dealt with worse over the years. A drunk guy with bad aim wasn’t pleasant, but you liked this job – you liked the MC, you liked the regulars, you liked that it gave you something to do in the evenings rather than aimlessly wander Granny’s house, you liked…Bucky.

“I’m not quitting, Bucky” you told him defiantly.

He looked genuinely surprised, his blue eyes narrowing. “What? Look…I’d understand, we fucked up – we should’ve been there to protect you and we were fuckin’ around playing pool”.

You frowned. “Look…don’t feel guilty. I should’ve called you over and not tried to manage him by myself when he started getting rowdy…I guess I just, didn’t want you to think I couldn’t handle it…” you told him quietly.

He chuckled fondly. “Sugar…I know full well you can handle it. I’ve seen the way you can handle yourself. But drunks can be unpredictable. You need to tell one of us if things get ugly, okay? That’s why we’re here”.

You nodded. “Alright”.

“Promise me you’ll call me or one of the others over if someone so much as raises their voice to you”. His tone was stern, he was clearly very serious about this.

“Scout’s honour” you replied sunnily as you held up your fingers in a mock salute, trying to ease some of the strange tension that was in the air.

He nodded, seemingly satisfied with your answer, but the stern look on his face was still there.

“And you’re really staying? Because if you wanted to quit..”

“No…Bucky, I’m staying”.

The silence hung awkwardly between you until you cleared your throat, looking over at the cabinet where he’d put away the kit.

“So uh…I didn’t think you’d have First Aid training”.

“You learn a few things after you come off your bike a couple of times” he sighed gruffly.

You nodded silently in response, but he caught your eyes briefly darting to look over at his metal arm.

“Yes…” he wiggled his metal fingers. “That was one of those times…can’t fix that with our First Aid box though” he muttered.

“Oh God, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine,” he softened. “I don’t mind talking about it. Really. Long time ago now. Got knocked off my bike by a truck and got pretty badly mangled. They couldn’t save it…”

“Jesus, Bucky, I’m SO sorry. I had no idea…”

“It’s fine,” he said pragmatically. “Accidents happen. Life goes on. Besides, got an upgrade out of it…” he smiled grimly and flexed the robotic arm.

“And you still get on your bike every day, even after all that?” you asked with disbelief.

He nodded, a smile lighting up his face. “It’s what I love. Nothing could stop me doing what I love. Yeah, I was a bit shaky at first. But you adapt. That’s what life is about, isn’t it?”

You smiled back at him. He was like regular Bucky again. You admired the way his face lit up when he spoke about his passion, quietly impressed by his determination to get back in the saddle. You wished you could be more like him in that way, rather than cowering in your indecision when things went south. You looked back over at his metal arm.

“I mean…it’s amazing. So intricate. I’ve never seen a prosthetic like it. How do you even go about getting a robot arm?”

“Friends in high places,” he tittered. “Tony Stark threw it in as part of a deal…”

Your eyes widened. “Tony Stark…the weapons magnate?”

Bucky just winked in response.

“Why would you and Tony Sta- No…you know what? I don’t need to know…”

“Yeah…probably for the best,” he laughed.

You rolled your eyes, but you were secretly relieved that the tension between you both had eased. Back to dumb jokes and sassing each other.

He smiled back at you for a second, but it faded so quickly that it made your stomach flip. He looked over at you forcefully, his eyes dark. It was a look you hadn’t seen before.

“Bucky…what is it-”

“I’m sorry again…that you got hurt,” he said gravely. “I would never…if I’d known…” he sighed. “I just mean…the last thing I’d ever want is for you to be in harm’s way…”

You paused, struck by the sincerity in his voice. You stared back at him, nodding sluggishly as he moved closer to you, unable to tear your eyes away from him. Time seemed to slow as he leaned towards you. Your eyes widened as he tilted his head, his expression intense. He leaned in closer and closer, and you found yourself moving too, like a moth to a flame. As his lips met yours it was like a lightning bolt, your breath caught in your chest as you suppressed a gasp and let yourself melt into him. His tongue was in your mouth before you knew what was happening, and you reciprocated greedily. Suddenly his hands were on your thighs, moving up your hips, your waist. The heat of his touch searing. Your own fingers grabbed at his kutte, pulling him closer and closer but still never close enough as his mouth moved to your throat. You practically mewled as his lips met the flesh of your neck, you tilted your head back to allow him full access. Your eyes closed as you bit your lip, his mouth ghosted over your skin and-

The heavy knocking sent you crashing back down to earth with a cruel bump, a tiny gasp escaping you as he pushed you back down against the wood.

“Buck…” came the muffled voice from behind the door. “We need to go. Sorry. Does your best employee need a ride home?”

“What is it, Sam?” Bucky snarled as he stood and moved towards the door.

“Rumlow…he’s apparently making a move…”

Bucky exhaled, he turned to look at you for a second, opening his mouth to speak before shaking his head in silent apology. His eyes said more than his lips ever could. You nodded in return.

He swung the door open and Sam stood there. He didn’t seem to be embarrassed or awkward to interrupt, so he was either being polite enough not to mention it, or simply hadn’t picked up on the slight heaviness in your breathing, or the way you were somewhat splayed across the desk.

“Goddamn. Alright. Let’s go,” Bucky instructed. “Sugar…you need a ride?”

“N-no. I drove. All good” you stuttered as you regained your composure.

“Sam…have someone ride back with her. Just in case”.

“Bucky I’m fine I-”

He looked at you warningly, raising an eyebrow.

“Alright…” you sighed. “Give me the motorcycle escort”.

His hard expression softened for a split second; a hint of a smile sent your way. The beginnings of a sparkle in his baby blues.

And then he was gone.

[rowdyhughesy]

Don’t run away, not now - Trevor Zegras

“ I’m burnt out, shit I need some rest. But how can I escape you if you’re in my head? “

- chase atlantic

requested: no

wc: 870

song fic inspired by This is what a broken heart feels like by Marina Lin

You gave it all away

Didn’t even let me in

You gave the worst goodbye

And people ask me how I've been

I wished relationships would come with a trailer, that you could watch it before you fall in love and decide if you wanted to continue. That if the impending heartache that could follow is truly worth it. If those two years filled with kisses on Saturday mornings, the smell of burning toast coming from the kitchen, warm fingertips drawing invisible shapes across my back in the early hours.

The fights when neither of us want to admit we've been wrong, when Trevor threw dirty laundry on the bathroom floor or forgot to put the dishes away.

Or when I let my insecurities become an obstacle I had problems crossing on my own. He would be there with a smile so big the ends of his eyelashes kissed the apples of his cheeks. Soft pink lips placing butterfly light kisses on my temple. Whispering how I was the most beautiful thing he's ever laid his eyes on.

How I wish I could've seen the trailer and been prepared for the ending. Saved myself the numbing ache that followed when I walked inside that door. Trevors facial expression void of any emotion as he breaks my heart into a million tiny glass pieces. 'I don't think it's working out.' Echoing inside my skull every damn time someone asks me how I'm holding up.

Replaying like a broken record that won't stop no matter how much I scream or cry. Palms pressed over my ears crying for it to shut up. Begging for silence. If only for a second

Friday nights got me feeling lonely

Saturdays are when the bottles empty

Why'd you have to leave me?

Dani strokes a comforting hand over the top of my head. Trying to smooth out the tangled rats ness I call hair her other arm wrapped around my body, cuddling me close to her side. Mumbling words of encouragement in my ear as I press my cheek closer to her chest. Hot tears wetting my skin as they run down, leaving small dark splotches on her sweater in their wake.

Throat sore from the cries of a broken heart I’ve been letting out for the past couple of hours.

It’s been two months since Trevor left but the tears still haven’t run dry. Every day there’s new ones along with the clenching feeling in my ribcage. It’s like someone has a tight grip on my heart and slowly but surely the grip becomes tighter and tighter. Squeezing with everything it has until the pain is all I can feel. Until it’s all that’s left.

‘Why did he have to leave Dani? What did I do wrong?’ Voice cracking as another wave of tears bubbles up. Eyes bloodshot, glassy from yet unshed tears and eyelashes clumped together.

‘You didn’t do anything wrong honey you did absolutely nothing. Do you hear me? This is not on you.’ Dani rests her chin on my head. Hand having left it’s previous position in my hair so both her arms are now cradling me close.

Small drops of her own tears that’s managed to slip out landing on my head. Troy gives her a sad smile from his place on the armchair across the coffee table. Trying to hold back all his frustration at his teammate for leaving someone so hurt and broken. For hurting a girl he’s considered as his little sister for two years.

But all he and Dani can do is be a shoulder to lean on and someone to confide in as the girl tries to get over the boy who left without warning.

Don't leave me

Don't leave me

Don't leave me

It’s hard to explain the feeling that crawls up your chest when you come across your ex boyfriends Instagram post. To see those light blue eyes and big smile that used to make your body tingle, lips twitching up at the corners and heart feel like it doubles in size.

Just that this time it’s shards of glass ripping through my skin and into my bones. Tears pricking at my waterline and breath getting knocked out of my lungs. Whole body deflating when I notice the pretty girl standing with her arms wrapped around his middle and kiss pressed to his cheek.

Love you to the moon and to Saturn typed underneath.

And the realisation that he’s never coming back crashing over me like a building being torn down. Rubble and dirt all that’s left behind along with my heart.

Flashes of a face red from crying as I beg for him to not leave, tell me what I could do to make him stay. Without even knowing that he’d been one foot out the door the whole time.

Heart already belonging to someone else. That I was the obstacle he had to get over to be with someone new, someone that would never be me. Not ever again.

[pencap]

I miss writing.

No, that's not it. I miss telling stories obliquely. I miss telling the kind of stories that could only be told obliquely.

My creative writing professor once told me my poems needed to be more direct about the story I was telling. I didn't know how to explain to her that for me poetry has always been about breaking the story apart into tiny pieces. About shattering the story and piecing the shards together like a jigsaw puzzle. About finding the pieces that are pathetically honest for me, and pathetically honest for you, even when we are telling two different stories. The pieces have always been where the truth lives, for me. At least, the kinds of truth that I don't know how to tell any other way.

I miss that kind of honesty. That kind of vulnerability. That kind of clarity that still make me ache and weep and bleed nearly a decade later. I am not the person that I was a decade ago, except in the ways that I am, except in the ways those same words still call to me.

Going back through this blog feels like sorting through little kernels of amber holding moments of my life. I read words I wrote a decade ago and I feel as I felt then. I remember, a snapshot so vivid it's almost like inventing time-travel. I miss having those snapshots. I miss making those snapshots. Sometimes that stretch of my life without poetry feels like a dream, not quite vivid or solid enough to be real.

I think I wrote poems to say the things I didn't know how to say in prose. It was easier when I wasn't listening for it, when I forgot about poetry. But now I'm listening, and the silence is heavy. That part of me has been silent for years now. Did I stop wanting to speak, or did I force myself silence? Which is worse? Which is better? Do I still remember how to speak that way? Do I dare try?

[sinfulsinewave]

i typed this out absentmindedly while working on like 4 different things so it may not be up to my usual standards but whatever, y'all seem to like particularly violent robot smut here

cw lesbian robot violence

--

i only got to her place about thirty minutes ago, yet she already seems to have taken a liking to me. she's been gently caressing my soft silicone skin, talking about how lovely it feels, and how pretty the clean white looks on me. she's getting a little more excited by now, growing more touchy, pressing her fingers between my panels, holding me tighter, breathing heavier

before i know it i find my comparatively tiny 150cm chassis shoved against a wall, not even attempting to resist as she effortlessly picks me up by the neck, giving me a little smooch in the middle of my glass display of a face; giggling as she sees me grow more and more flustered

"you'd make such a good toy, you know~" she whispers directly into one of my microphones, "and you'd love that, wouldn't you?~"

i can't help but nod nervously in agreement as her slightly raspy voice echoes in my head. she giggles a tiny bit again, grabbing me into a bridal carry, my flustered mind too overwhelmed to pick up on my surroundings, or where she's taking me

the next thing i know, i get roughly slammed down on a metal table, squealing as i feel some of the plating on my back crack from the impact. i stare up at her as she sits on top of me, grinning slightly

she leans down, essentially laying down on top of me, pinning me down as she starts peeling off some of my paneling. she nonchalantly tosses the bits of plastic aside, ripping out the connectors for my touch sensors

"last chance to turn back, cutie~" she warns, but the both of us already know the answer

--

she sits up slightly, picking up a hammer from underneath the table, flipping it around carelessly. she gives me another little kiss, prompting me to flash a little heart pattern on my display.. which is promptly shattered into tiny little crystals of glass by her hammer, my screaming mixing with her giggling

she then proceeds to slam her hand through the hole, seemingly not even noticing the shards of glass scratching her up as she feels around inside my head

before long she grabs onto some cables, yanking out one of my camera arrays, my servos clicking frantically before the connectors fail to hold on, one of my delicate optical modules dead in her hand, before i get to see it discarded like a piece of e-waste with my remaining two

then go my lidar and other cameras, taking a hammer right in the lenses, leaving me blind, squirming underneath her

"stay still." i hear her command as she grabs onto my neck, holding me down. i don't even get to ask what she's doing before feeling an intense heat near my back. that, combined with finding myself unable to move tells me everything. she giggles as i finally pick up on the fact that i've been welded to the table, and am not going anywhere anytime soon

--

"by the way.." she mentions, "hope you didn't think you're stuck to just a table~"

"wait, w-what is this then?"

"you'll know~" she answers, right as i hear the unmistakable whine of large stepper motors from somewhere above me, moving closer

then a piece of metal tapping on me, followed by some typing, and then the turbine-like whir of a large motor

i still have no idea what is happening, until i feel metal blades dig into the surface of my arm's plastic skin, prompting a little squeal out of me

then again, and again, and again, and again; taking out minuscule slices at a time, slowly but surely digging their way through

my squeals shift to screams as what i now recognise is a milling machine tears through my arm, shaving off layer after layer of the whole thing

as the machine cuts into my frame and wires, my mind gets flooded by erratic signals from the wiring shorting out on itself, getting interpreted as pulses of every feeling imaginable. my mind getting overwhelmed by feelings, i start to shift into weak moans, finding myself enjoying the whole process

--

"well someone is enjoying itself, isn't it?~" i hear her say as she steps closer to me, most of my arm in shreds of metal and plastic by now. and as if the sensory overload wasn't bad enough, she proceeds to lean in to kiss what's left of my face again

and she doesn't go easy, her saliva dripping through the cracks, causing minor faults in even more systems as i struggle to even maintain consciousness

--

i wake up an unknown time later in her bed, the only thing i'm able to reliably feel being her warmth and weight on top of me

she slowly wakes up as well

i try to look up at her, forgetting that i have no more visual sensors. she laughs sleepily at my attempt

"hope you enjoyed last night", she says, "…because i'm not at all done with you, toy~"

i only manage to nod slightly in agreement, not like i have a choice

…not that i'd choose otherwise even if i did

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

😭

...for the character comforting thing 👀

and i'm ready to have my heart broken

The next chapter

Masterlist

A/N: Hi anon! Thanks for the ask! You shouldn't have mentioned being ready to have your heart broken, because I've been in a mood...

(This was written from a promt from this ask game!)

Characters: Syverson

Summary: You come home to an interesting situation...

Word count: 557

Warnings: Angst

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @ellethespaceunicorn @mayloma @keanureevesisbae @summersong69 @ylva-syverson @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @livisss @peyton-warren

You carefully close the door behind you. It’s unusually quiet and dark in the house. There’s music coming from the living room. Lionel Richie’s ‘Endless Love’ is just ending. When it starts again, you get suspicious, and carefully walk towards the living room, unsure of what you’ll find.

The lights are dimmed, there are candles everywhere, and about two dozen balloons are stuck to the ceiling, with printed out photos dangling underneath them from strings. There’s an enormous bouquet of roses on the coffee table, along with champagne and chocolate covered strawberries – the good ones, from that place you forget the name of because you don’t go there on account of it’s fucking expensive. For the particular occasion, however, you understand more than perfectly.

In the middle of this scene, you find him. Sy. On the floor, with a tiny box in his large hands. In it, a ring; a white gold band with a pear-cut topaz. It’s simple, but absolutely gorgeous.

“Sy?” you ask carefully. “What is this?” As soon as you start speaking, a soft sob escapes him. Fuck.

“She said no.” His voice breaks halfway through the sentence, and so does your heart. You drop to your knees beside him, take the box from his hands and snap it shut, and toss it onto the table.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask in a soft voice as you run a hand through his hair. You’ve always liked doing that; his buzzcut feels nice on your skin.

“Sugar, I can’t begin to tell you how much I don’t want to talk about this night ever again,” he sighs. He points to the other side of the room, where his phone is on the floor, next to a pile of glass shards that used to be the mirror on the vanity that’s standing against the wall. You carefully retrieve the thing. It looks comically tiny when Sy is holding it, but this thing is so big that you could never use it with just one hand. The screen is cracked – no shit – but it still works.

It opens on a text – what he seemed to have been reading when he threw the thing across the room.

Sy, Please believe me when I tell you that every time I thought about what it would be like if you proposed to me, it ended with me saying ‘yes’. Needless to say, when push came to shove, I didn’t. It wasn’t something you did, Sy, I promise. Everything was exactly as I’d always hoped it would be. Except that – and I honestly can’t think of a nice way to say this – when you popped the question, all I could think about was how much I don’t see myself marrying you. I’m sorry.

By the time you’re done reading, and re-reading, and re-re-reading the message, you have tears in your eyes.

“Four years,” he says softly, “gone.” You drop the phone on the coffee table, next to the ring box, and grab the champagne, pouring two glasses and handing Sy one before you sit next to him on the floor. He rests his head on your shoulder for a second before looking at his glass.

“To the worst night of my fucking life.”

“Wrong,” you say as you pull his head back to your shoulder, “to the next chapter.”

[riddle-me-ri]

Your Riddlers are ✨️pure gold✨️, Ri! If you'll have time and will like the idea: small drabble about s/o comforting injured Arkham Riddler, he always looks so tired...

have a nice day and pls rest I beg

A/N: aww thank you so much sweet anon! Heeyyyy arkhamverse eddie lets gooo…only the second eddie I’m nervous about writing outside of headcanons hehe, I do wanna get better at him I do but god, there are just so many better writers for him hnngg

Trigger Warning: none, you call Ed an asshole but that's a given

Word Count: 712

Arkhamverse Riddler x Reader - Hold Still

“Ow! Stop! I can do this by myself! As I’ve already told you, you ignorant, stubborn–” 

“Ed! Stop moving and it won’t hurt! I swear to God…HOLD STILL!” 

“You can’t tell ME, Edward Nygm-AH!” 

You pulled a tiny sliver of glass out from his arm, before raising an eyebrow at him with a small grin growing to the side of your face. 

Silently daring him to continue challenging you. 

He groaned, annoyed but said nothing. 

Of course, he stayed silent not nearly as long as he should. 

"I really don't need your help, I could've easily done this myself."

"I don't doubt it, Edward. It'd be foolish to question you…" You let the compliment sink in…

Before you reprimanded him. "However, it would've been equally foolish to let a man with only three hours of sleep for the past seventy-two hours operate on himself with an open glass cut in his arm."

The satisfied smile Ed had on his face soon morphed into a grimace, an agitated scowl. It didn't go without notice by you, the conundrum however, was the disdained look from you tricking him or the fact that you were right?

Which is something he'll never admit to, so you have to remind yourself of moments when he shows you're right instead. 

Moments such as these. When you blatantly reminded him that sleep was a necessity for human function, and he can’t come up with a compelling argument so you two stew in silence.

Edward refrained from moving anymore. Most likely just wanting to get this pseudo-operation over with. As you continued to carefully remove more glass shards, you occasionally glanced up and saw even beyond the bruises and grease…Edward's eyelids slowly getting heavy and adding onto the bags already piled under his eyes. 

“How much longer must I wait for you to finish something that would take me mere minutes?” 

“Just a little more, wouldn’t want you get in an infection.” You answered honestly, not even registering his passive aggressive side comments anymore. 

A beat more of silence that was only cut by the occassional tool hitting the table or the cracking of gauze tape. You gave the finished bandage a satisfied pat. 

“There you go…” You say softly, expecting him to immediately hop up and ignore your advice of taking it easy to let the scar heal. 

Yet, Edward didn’t move an inch. 

You looked up and tried not to gasp too loudly. 

Edward’s head was cocked back into the cushion of the worn leather lounge chair. His eyes finally being too heavy for him to hold any longer. You put your fingers towards his wrist, his breathing had actually leveled out. No longer was he huffing and puffing, constantly trying to catch his breath. 

He even began to slightly snore a little. You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing. 

You couldn’t help the soft smile that grew, as a weight was finally lifted off your shoulders. You could finally put off the argument of getting him to rest…at least for today. 

For all his egomania, his bravado, and constant need to put others down to rise himself up…for how much he hardened himself and put up his, what he presumed to be, an impenetrable fortress…

Edward looked incredibly soft and vulnerable in this restful state. 

Not wanting to disturb him, you slowly elevated yourself to your feet. You glanced around the room, as you set your sights on the green plaided throw strung on the sofa next to the chair. You snatched it and as lightly as you could draped it over the slumbering genius. 

Next, you tiptoed out of the makeshift living area into the kitchen. Perhaps when he woke up you could coax him into eating something before he took off back to his schemes never to be seen like a thief in the night (no offense Selina). 

You almost jumped out of your skin as a loud snore silenced through the once silent lair. You looked over your shoulder and rolled your eyes. 

Of course, even in his sleep he couldn’t be quiet…but at least he was sleeping. You wished the asshole would get some more rest now and again. Maybe he wouldn’t be such a grouch all the time…

Maybe.

[wellthebardsdead]

Clockwork Heart pt24

Part 23 here

———

Wyrm: *sitting at his desk, swaddled in a thick blanket and staring at voryn in awe as the chimer repairs his mechanical arm with the parts he’d taken from Mzulft* how did you do that?!

Voryn: *smiles as he tests the new joints he’d made with tiny dwemer spheres, making it function like a ball jointed dolls limb* Ah, I suppose you don’t remember any of sotha sils work, he was very fond of the dwemer and like myself and neht, befriended them. Seht was a brilliant scholar and architect, he thrived with our deep elven cousins and would often accompany Nerevar and myself on our visits to Dumac. Though… that was of course before everything went wrong between our people. *sighs and lifts the blanket from Wyrms body before fitting the arm to him* But, I did learn a thing or two from them myself.

Wyrm: Its beautiful. *smiles up at him* what was he like? Dumac?

Voryn: He was kind, always welcoming and excited for our visits. There were times he’d rush from his throne and take the lift up to greet us before we even had a chance to climb from our silt striders. He was fond of games, food, drink. Everything was fine until Kagrenac ruined it all… *sighs* He was closer with Neht then me, I’m sure he can tell you more but… I know it broke his heart when Dumac sided with the grand architect over him.

Wyrm: I think, he maybe thought he was doing what was best for his people, maybe he thought it’d benefit the chimer too? As a leader he’d have to put his people first right?

Voryn: not when doing what you think is right spits in the face of the gods. The good daedra warned them, the aedra warned them. And they ignored it all. And look at what happened to them. *looks down at the arm as he adjusts the shoulder harness*

Wyrm: *his Pearl eye flashing blue for just a moment* they’re screaming.

Voryn: *eyes snapping to look at him again* what?…

Wyrm: *literally didn’t even notice he’d spoken or remembered doing so* what?

Voryn: you just? I… never mind. *smiles deciding not to press further* can you move your arm for me? Let me see if it needs adjusting.

Wyrm: *looks down at the arm and tries to flow his magic through it only for it to grasp onto nothing, leaving it hanging there, limp* it’s? It’s not working.

Voryn: hm. *rubs his temple and closes his third eye* Perhaps I missed a step, no I’m sure I didn’t. I labelled the tendon wires correctly and the spheres should activate with the condui- The conduit oh gods I’m stupid this won’t work.

Wyrm: I? A conduit?

Voryn: Yes. Aetherium. *sighs* Though that material is more precious than ebony. Only the deep elves knew how to harness it, never mind refine it small enough to fit inside of the shoulder mechanism.

Wyrm: oh! I have some!

Voryn: i- *opens his third eye in surprise* you do?

Wyrm: *nods and smiles sliding out of his chair and running to his rucksack, only to finally notice everyone else’s bags minus voryns and nehts are missing* huh?…

Voryn: Wyrm?

Wyrm: *pulls the small aetherium shard from his bag before looking at Voryn with tears welling up in his eyes* m-my friends are g-gone? Wh-where’s their stuff?

Voryn: *finally notices their stuff is gone too, thinking they must have left when they were napping* Oh Wyrm, I’m sure it’s fine come, come here don’t cry.

Wyrm: *shakily walks to him, body still weak and sore and now his heart hurting equally as much making Voryn grimace a little in pain* th-they left me… d-did I do something wrong? I thought… I… m-maybe they weren’t, my friends. M-maybe they decided their debts were paid and they didn’t want to put up with m-

Voryn: *pulls him into his lap and holds him close* Shhh. Deep breaths now, let’s not spill more tears just yet. *dries his eyes already seeing them spill* I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation- *looks at the door as nerevar enters* Speaking of which.

Nerevar: *holding dinner for the three of them* Oh! Good you’re awake- *goes quiet seeing wyrm on the verge of a heart wrenching meltdown that could potentially kill Voryn if he’s not careful*

Voryn: Where’d the others go? Neht. *strokes Wyrms hair back behind his ears as he turns his attention back to him*

Nerevar: *deciding it’d be best not to tell the whole truth* The arch mage had some work for them. Said it was related to Ancano but wouldn’t let me press for details. They wanted to have Wyrm join them but, well neither of you are fit for travel or battle at the moment. They should be back in a couple days. *walks to the desk setting the food down* and you both should be restin-

Wyrm: *shakily grabs his wrist, barely holding in the hiccups already developing from how hard he’s trying to keep himself calm* th-they’re coming back?…

Nerevar: *realising what’s causing him distress finally* Yes I- Oh Wyrm no, no they wouldn’t abandon you, they wouldn’t leave forever without saying goodbye. *kneels down to display more comfort and sympathy in his posture* they’ll come back and everything will be okay.

Wyrm: *sniffles and nods feeling more at ease now* o-okay. *let’s go of his hand and rubs his eyes feeling silly for getting so worked up* i-i was scared I’d lost my friends again…

Voryn: again?

Wyrm: *nods and points to the boxes on his shelves* I had to pull them apart… A-ancano stole my book one night and- I lost control of myself when I couldn’t find it… they nearly destroyed the arcanum with them, s-so savos made me pull them apart… I only got to keep mr wrench. *looks at the dwarven spider now holding onto the aetherium shard waiting for instruction* and Onmund, J’zargo and Brelyna are nice too but… I’m scared I’ll annoy them too much and I was scared- i-i annoyed or upset the others into leaving too.

Nerevar: *clenching his jaw ready to snap Ancanos neck and feeling anger rumble within his chest that anyone could find him annoying* Oh wyrm, no…

Voryn: *picks up the blanket and wraps it around wyrm once more* Theyd never find you annoying little scrib, we’d never find you annoying either. *gently unbuckles the arm from him* Why don’t we have dinner and I’ll finish your arm before bed? I think I remember how to install the conduit.

Wyrm: y-yes please. *blinks looking up at the door as it opens allowing Enthir to help Urag into the room to join them for dinner* papa!

Urag: *looks over to see his sons tear stained face* … *picks up his cane* Which one of you did it?!

Enthir: BABE NO!

*a few hours later*

Wyrm: *Unable to sleep, nestled in bed beside voryn, everyone agreeing it’d be best for him to stay close to the high councillor in his sleep until they can figure out what’s causing his nightmares* … *rolls onto his side and looks over at his desk and his new arm glowing ever so slightly with the aetherium powering it, but still brightly enough to illuminate nerevars empty bedroll beside it* huh?… *sits up and slides out of bed, whole body wobbling as he gets his bearings* nerevar?…

???: the labyrinthian?…

???: there’s no way they’ll come back alive why did you lie to him like that?

Wyrm: huh?… *walks to the hole in his wall and peers out to see nerevar, Urag and Enthir standing in the arcanum, their only light the bright glow of a magelight between them*

Nerevar: would you rather I tell him they left towards certain death to protect him? He was on the verge of tears thinking they’d abandoned him how could I possibly hurt him like that?

Enthir: He’ll need to know the truth eventually-

Urag: he’s right… *sighs* he’s not well, and if we deliver him news like this while he’s still vulnerable it might kill him, or kill everyone else with whatever this curse is that’s afflicting him… *looks up at nerevar* But they’re a capable bunch… don’t particularly like any of them but… they kept my boy alive. And he likes them… he’s got a good sense for people. I’m sure they’ll come back fine… *glances slightly at the hole in the wall letting them know he’s aware Wyrm is spying*

Wyrm: *quickly ducks away from the wall as Enthir and neht turn to look* oh no… oh no no no- *hurries back to bed and climbs in trying to come up with a plan to leave unnoticed*

Voryn: *jumps a little feeling the dunmer scurry under the covers* wyrm? Are you okay?…

Wyrm: y-yes I- h-had to use the bathroom I’m okay. *snuggles up close and pouts a little as voryn pulls him closer, realising how hard it’s going to be to escape without waking him up now*

Voryn: *yawns sensing a some distress from Wyrm but chalking it up to his friends sudden absence or a possible fear of the dark or even going back to sleep and the potential nightmares returning* okay, go back to sleep little Pearl…

Wyrm: okay… *sighs and snuggles in close, his ears twitching as he hears the door open and nerevar enter again*

Nerevar: *walks to the bed and leans down kissing voryns lips softly and earning a soft tired smile in response* did I wake you?…

Voryn: mmm, no, Wyrm just needed the bathroom. *opens his eyes and yawns with a content sleepy expression*

Nerevar: *looks at him and then Wyrm before smiling as he sees the young dunmer clearly trying to fake being asleep* I see. *leans down brushing his fringe out of his face and giving his forehead a soft kiss making Wyrm scrunch up his nose in surprise as he struggles to keep up his pretending* good night little dragon. *chuckles softly before giving voryn one more kiss and returning to his bedroll*

Wyrm: *sighs and relaxes again back into voryn as he tries to formulate a plan, only to realise he actually needs to use the bathroom now* …Aw biscuits.

*a few hours later*

Wyrm: *testing the movement in the fingers of his new arm one more time before pulling on his cloak and picking up his bag* okay… *places his hand on the door knob and looks back at his room one more time to see Voryn & Nerevar fast asleep* …I’ll come back… *opens the door and walks into the arcanum before walking to his fathers room and peering in to find Enthir & Urag, both sleeping soundly* …I’m s-sorry papa… *places a note on the night stand* I love you… *creeps out of the room and through the library before heading down the stairs and out into the courtyard, the cold night air chilling his weakened body to the bone* I can do this… *walks towards the bridge slowly, heart in his throat, and then nearly exploding out of his mouth as strong hands grab him from behind and he screams in fright before spinning around and slapping his assailant hard across the face with his mechanical hand* LET ME GO!!! *pulls away as the tall figure staggers back revealing who he already knew they were*

Ancano: *holding his face in surprise at how much that hurt* Gods you little-

Wyrm: Don’t you touch me! Don’t you EVER touch me again! *staggers back holding onto his bag strap tight* e-everything bad that’s happened to me! It’s all been your fault!

Ancano: *eyes flashing with intrigue at his little pearls sudden bravery* My, my, where did this attitude come from? All my fault how? *steps forward*

Wyrm: FUS-

Ancano: What th-

“RO DAH!!!”

Voryn: *jolts up in the bed to see nerevar already on his feet holding his sword* What- Wyrm?! Where’s Wyrm?!

Nerevar: he’s in danger it came from outside!

Enthir: *already running out to the courtyard pulling on his slippers as he goes while Urag follows after him and the rest of the college emerges*

Urag: *holding the note from his night stand and moving as fast as he can as tears cloud his vision* no not again- not again please! *hurries out to find snow cleared from the court yard by a great force, and his son, and nobody else in sight* Pup…

*meanwhile*

Wyrm: *running through the village as lights illuminate windows, everyone waking up from the blast, his body already beginning to lose steam from just how weakened he really is* no- come on- please- *reaches his arm out for nerevars horse as he approaches the stables, the cold air stinging his lungs and blurring his vision… the pounding of his heart doing wonders to block out the sound of crunching snow as a strange figure approaches and bashes him in the head with the blunt end of their spear, knocking him unconscious* Ugh- *collapses in the snow*

???: *stares down at him before gently rolling him onto his back and fixing his cloak to keep him warm* I thought you were supposed to be smarter than me, Seht… why would you be so foolish?… *looks up hearing panicked voices of his loved ones approaching* They will return… They are not careless with your heart. *smiles down at him before suddenly disappearing with the chime of a bell*

*meanwhile*

Ancano: *nearly falls off the ladder entering the midden before dropping to his knees and gritting his teeth as he splints his broken arm* Little-sh-shit. Wh-when did he learn how to do that? Ngh- *coughs up what he firsts thinks is phlegm from being hit so aggressively, only to taste blood on his tongue* It seems I’ll need to teach you some manners again, little Pearl… *smirks* at least 3 of my problems will be out of the picture permanently… now to get rid of the other 4… *resets his broken arm and holds in a pained groan*

*A few days later, in the depths of the labyrinthian*

Taliesin: *laying prone next to Kaidan & Inigo after being ambushed at the end of the barrow by estormo, fairly certain his friends are dead, unable to move, only stare up at the other high elf as they take the staff of Magnus from his paralysed grasp* i-I’ll s-slaughter y- you once th-this wears off.

Estormo: *smirks down at him, twirling the staff in his fingers* it’s a shame. You’re not even worth enough to earn me a promotion by killing you. But, I suppose I’ll enjoy it regardless~ *raises up the staff bludgeoning him in the head with it repeatedly until he goes still* that felt good. *looks back at his men awaiting his orders* alright, let’s get going. *pauses thinking he heard a bell chime* …

Guard: sir?

Estormo: …Its nothing. *feels a chill run down his spine remembering the stranger in the blizzard* let’s go… *walks out of the barrow with them, oblivious to the hooded stranger walking to team dragonborns aid*

???: *stands over the three of Wyrms friends, poking them with the real staff of Magnus and smiling as they sense life* Your time hasn’t come yet. Seht needs you still, Wyrm needs you still… *leans down and gently starts healing them all the while looking at the door where estormo left*

Taliesin: *groans softly in his unconscious state* wyrm… my… little moth…

???: *looks back at him and smiles warmly, the oil lamp light illuminating their half gold and blue lips* He misses you… he ran to your rescue despite knowing he’d die before reaching you… *strokes the high elfs cheek, cleaning the blood away* please, don’t break his heart… *looks back to the doorway sensing estormos presence fading* For being such a dickhead, you’d think he’d know a dick just by holding one, even if it is a bit pointy…

[distopea]

“Tsk. Let me see that.”

The words were quick and terse as his hand darted out to take hold of Gabriele’s. Tiny shards of glass were embedded in the bodyguard’s knuckles, thin as papercuts. For some time now, he’d been watching Gabriele out of the corner of his eye, struggling to pluck them out with his left hand.

“Hold still.” Raum snatched the tweezers from him as well with a huff, then started to pluck the glass out from his hand. There were only a few left, hard to reach without help, and Raum would rather not have to sit next to Gabriele cursing to himself in Italian all evening.

He focused on his task and allowed his mind to wander back to how it had occurred. Uncontrolled, a little quirk of amusement slowly appeared upon his lips.

“You have a nasty right hook, Vasco,” he spoke after a moment of quiet, continuing to pluck. “He never saw it coming — not until you’d already smashed his glasses. The look on his face. . .”

A low hum of a laugh escaped him then, before he set the tweezers aside. He brought the older man’s hand closer to his eyeline, checking for leftovers. Little drops of blood were forming between Gabriele’s knuckles where the glass was removed. Raum watched it happen— struck for a moment at what exactly Gabriele’s role was to him.

Slowly he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Gabriele’s knuckles. Blue eyes flicked up to capture his face, a signal.

He wouldn’t say ‘thank you’ — the protection Gabriele offered belonged to him.

Lips parted slightly, and the tip of his tongue peeked out to lap at Gabriele’s blood.

This blood was also his. Spilled instead of his own.

So, this was the kind of dog he would have on his leash — the one who would hang on his every command in the future. Raum met Gabriele’s eyes and grinned slightly, his nose crinkling into a sneer. He couldn’t wait.

@cantuscorvi

He didn’t need help. 

Even if he had been toying his hand for the past thirty minutes, Gabriele was religiously focused on his task and wouldn’t formulate any request to get help. It was a question of honor, self-respect, and probably a generous amount of misplaced ego. He was still driving through that wave of anger, the very one that had pushed him into attacking that man and smashing his glasses, along with half of his nose in the process. He had created a mess; his inner passion and rough rage pushed to their limits thanks to that minx who was sitting next to him. 

“No,” Gabriele growled as he heard Raum eventually offer his help, probably exceeded by his curses and lack of success regarding the extraction of those small pieces of glass. That was the only reason why his princely ass would actually do something to ease his pain. He wanted peace. 

The bodyguard hadn’t been quick enough. While he was moving his fingers under the light of the ceiling to catch a glimpse of small shredded glass stuck deep inside his skin, Raum had snatched away his precious tool, gripping the tweezers with that everlasting satisfied look plastered on his young features. A content cat who was winning the game. Gabriele longly sighed. 

“I said I could do it myself.” He mumbled again but didn’t resist much when Raum grabbed his hand. A part of him was quite satisfied to get pampered, his blood boiling within his veins, as truly, he had no patience anymore to deal with that shit. “Use the antiseptic... Mamma mia! No! Not like that! Fa male!” He snapped, and while he didn’t enjoy Raum’s methods at first, the sudden sharpness coming from the extracted piece of glass was quite painful when he wasn’t the one holding the tweezers. 

He stared back at his protegee, a frown crossing his tan skin, ready to curse again if Raum wasn’t being so careful. But once more, eyeing Raum in that state of half satisfaction and half happiness was a vision Gabriele profoundly liked. It was intimately soothing everything within him; as he knew, he was witnessing something rare. Someone he had provoked. He liked it. He liked it far more than he could ever admit. He sighed again, preparing himself for the discomfort of those ridiculously small injuries when Raum aimed again for his palm. 

“For a four-eyed man, he truly hasn’t seen it coming.” Gabriele answered, the corner of his lips curling into a vicious and petty smile. It was true that he had a nasty right punch, and despite the current pain, he was proud of himself for that perfect delivery. But perhaps he was thriving because Raum seemed to enjoy it as well. 

The bodyguard’s eyes darkened, while eventually the tweezers were put aside, and his hand scanned under the cold blue retina of the blond. He could almost feel his breath skimming his epidermis, provoking a few goosebumps here and there, but mostly onto Gabriele’s forearm. It was potentially more painful than before, as he imagined many scenarios all at once, burning his iris with forbidden fantasies. That kid… Always playing with fire. Always provoking what shouldn’t be. 

“Raum…” Gabriele warned, when, like the petty boy he was, he couldn’t help but push the game further, his tongue darting out to taste the forbidden bloody nectar of his skin. It was Gabriele’s role to remain responsible and focused, trying to push out of his mind those desires where that little attitude would only result in a pair of pants pushed down his legs and his pristine skin blushing under a different kind of fire. 

It pissed him off. 

Those eyes locked on him. That smile. 

If they were equals, it would be so different. 

“Stop that.” Gabriele snapped his fingers away, shaking his fingers as if he had been stung back something unwanted. He coldly looked at Raum, even if his mind was burning with an awful passion that was almost impossible to refrain from. He eventually grabbed the bottle of antiseptic onto the table and poured the entire liquid over his wounds.

It hurt like a bitch. But it was a salvation.

“Mamma mia, non posso credere che tu pulisca ferite del genere.” Gabriele pushed his hair back onto his skull and stood back up, taking this perfect opportunity to fly away before the situation might escalate into something where he knew there wouldn’t be any kind of control coming from his side.

[urdepressedslut]

Scars of Your Soul | (ch. 1)

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Platonic!Claire Redfield x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Leon went through some traumatic moments, battling for their lives on the night of the fall of Raccoon City. Making it out alive was just the beginning, now they will take new adventures, trying to make the world a better place and end umbrellas schemes once and for all. Is what you and Leon had real? Or is it simply a trauma bond?

Warnings: angst, trauma, PTSD, panic attacks

My feet ached, tiny cuts in my skin from the shards of glass. It was once again this never ending nightmare, monsters all around, death everywhere. Trying to take deep breaths, the air felt thicker. It was becoming harder to ground myself, everything started to turn red, blood coating each object that surrounded me in its putrid smell.

My legs finally gave out, my body hitting the ground with a hard thud. This was it, even though death was close, it seemed easier than staying one more second in this hellhole. Tears escaped from the corner of my eyes, rolling down my filthy cheeks.

"Please.. Do it quick!! I can't do this anymore.." I begged, pleading for whoever stood in the darkness to come end my misery quickly.

Heavy footsteps alerted me, making my sobs stop in a quick second. Suspense filling my bones as I waited to see my killer, who's face they wore.

The body stepped out first, their face still bathed in the shadows. My chest grew tighter, not even sure I was breathing at this exact moment. Tears continued to escape my eyes, a steady stream of what may be my last cry.

Soon the face of my killer stood out, only for me to meet eyes with...

"Leon.." I whispered, not allowing myself to believe Leon was going to end me. I backed up slowly, trying to create distance between us.

He stalked forward, inches away from my figure now. Squatting down he gripped my ankle harshly and yanked me forward so that my body was semi under his. With a yelp I slid, face glancing up into his.

Even with the murderous glare, his eyes continued to shine with the most amazing blue, shocking my system for the last time. Bittersweet.

"Just make it quick.." I pleaded, wanting everything to be over. Whoever thought that the real monster was the one I escaped with.

He smiled and reached into his pocket, pulling out what I didn't expect. A syringe, the same one that had cursed me in the first place.

"Found this, seemed it belonged with you." He spoke, his voice not even sounding like him. I started to cry louder, begging with everything in me for him not to poison me. Death would be better than being infected with the virus. Never again.

"NO NO, PLEASE NO!" I sobbed, trying to back up, but his grip on my ankle tightened, holding me in place.

Raising my dirty white dress, he caressed my thigh for a second, causing goosebumps to appear on my skin.

"This.. Is who you are." He spat out, raising his hand high and stabbing the needle into my skin. In just a few seconds I felt the same crawling feeling bloom in my chest, my whole body igniting once again with the feverish monster.

Screams of agony filled the room, my body twitching and mutating. There wasn't any second chance now, no medicine to bring me back. I was truly becoming the monster I had feared. With one last scream, I felt my spine split, my whole body being shocked with the worst pain I had ever felt. I felt something digging in my stomach, something moving. Trying to claw my hands at it, it continued to move. The only thing I was capable in that moment was to scream for help that would never come. Only this endless agony.

_____________________

(Y/N)'S POV

Jolting awake my hands immediately went to my stomach, feeling nothing but smooth skin. My skin was sweaty, the bed sheets underneath me drenched in fear. My heart pounded so violently in my chest I thought for a second it was going to explode out of my body. Taking a few moments to breath, and notice my surroundings, I remembered very quickly that this was real life. I had escaped, I was still alive. Nightmares hadn't let up since the night after the incident. In fact they had gotten worse as time passed, the dreams becoming so real that the pain inflicted in them could be felt in real life. It was beginning to become a challenge to determine what was real and what wasn't.

Finally getting out of bed, I headed to the shower. Wanting to scrub all evidence of my nightmare, nobody needed to know. Attention is not what I needed right now, I wanted to blend in.

Wrapping the towel around my frame, I took a brief look at myself in the mirror, wiping away the blur. Tired, dim eyes looked back at me, surrounded by dark circles, evidence of my crippling insomnia. It wasn't even the outside that scared me, I could feel deep within myself that I had gone numb, turning into a shell. Anyone who started a conversation with me would instantly be bored to death by the lack of personality within me. I tried to smile and say I'm fine but I couldn't.

Lowering myself to the bathroom floor, I let myself succumb to this numb trance. I could stay in one spot for hours on end, staring at nothing. It was like my body felt empty more and more each day. They said time would heal, but the only thing it's doing is causing more damage.

Is this what a hero looks like?

Light knocks sounded at the door to my room, making me jump slightly in my spot on the floor. Getting up, I could feel my knees crack, from the lack of use.

Making it to the door, I took a deep breath before opening the door slightly ajar. Revealing the only person willing to put up with me, Claire.

Claire and I became close after the whole raccoon city situation. Never getting a real chance to get to know each other until it was all over. It started as a normal friendship, then one night, Claire was distressed. Too caught up in the flashes of horrors to think straight, so I had held her throughout the night. It was that vulnerable moment that really strengthened our friendship, and I was happy to have her, I was starting to wonder how'd I made it this far in life without her.

"Hey babes, can we talk?" Claire had asked, frowning after taking in my appearance. I stepped back, allowing her to enter.

"Sure." Taking a seat next to her on the couch, I shifted my body facing hers completely. Her distress rubbing off on me, I grew concerned. "Everything okay?"

Claire tried to mask her true emotion with a smile, but I knew her too well. I could tell she was hiding.

"I'm not sure. It's about work." She started, watching how my body sagged at the last word.

"What about it?" I just wanted her to spit it out at this point, I knew it wasn't anything good.

"They've been giving assignments out like it's Christmas morning. At this rate, the building will be empty by next month." She told me, crossing her legs and began to fidget with the end of my towel.

"It's getting bad again?" I asked her, afraid of the answer. She gave me a sad smile, tilting her head slightly.

"Babes, it's always been bad, they just don't want us to worry about anything besides our current mission." She said sadly, her brows furrowing as she zoned out on a spot on the couch.

"What were you assigned? Another city outbreak?" I asked her, rubbing her leg in an attempt of comfort.

This time, she stopped fidgeting and gave me her full attention. Grabbing both my hands she took a deep breath.

"I wasn't assigned anything." She told me, confusing me for a second before it clicked. "It's you."

I wasn't prepared for the nauseous feeling in my stomach to appear so suddenly. I couldn't help but feel the drop of sweat start to drip down the middle of my back, waves of heat rushing through my body.

"Oh.." I whispered, numbly. I wasn't sure if it was sadness that filled my being or disappointment that this was my life. Suddenly a life working at the gas station didn't seem so bad.

Gary's ripped flesh and screams quickly flashed through my head, making me physically flinch, eyes wide with terror. I felt myself frozen in front of the gas station once again. A hand suddenly gripped my arm and all I could see was red, the rotted woman snarling, about to rip me apart. Screaming, I felt my throat burn with the intensity.

"(Y/N)!! STOP!! ITS ME!!" I heard Claire say, snapping me back to reality. With a jolt I was staring at her wide concerned eyes. My chest felt tight, and my face was wet with.. tears? I felt fuzzy and disoriented. After realizing what had just happened, I felt embarrassed.

"I'm sorry.. I—" I stopped, taking a deep breath and harshly wiping my face dry of the evidence. "I'm okay now."

I tried to assure Claire, but she didn't seem convinced.

Slowly Claire wrapped me in one of her bear hugs, cradling the back of my head and setting her chin on top of my head.

Closing my eyes I let myself take in the feeling of this warm shelter. A short moment where I could hide from everything.

"I love you so much babes. Okay?" Claire told me, really making sure I was snapped out of my episode.

I sniffled and looked up at her, through my damp lashes.

"Yeah, love ya too bud." I answered weakly, but Claire snuggled into my hair for another second and then released me from her embrace.

Getting up, Claire set an envelope on the coffee table. Stroking my hair one last time before leaving. Without a goodbye, because well.. we both weren't good at them.

Once the door shut, all that was left was the tension of the unopened envelope and me.

I pushed it away, the end of the paper hanging off the edge of the table. I didn't want this.

Hearing the door open again, I assumed Claire was back to cuddle some more. Try and give me more words of encouragement.

But out of nowhere without looking behind me, I got a whiff of the familiar scent I'd grown to love.

I felt the couch dip beside me, and it was at this point I felt like I had to shield myself away. I didn't want them to see me like this.

I jumped slightly when I felt a blanket get draped over my shoulders. Making me blush, seeing as I was only wearing a towel still.

"You okay (y/n)?" Leon asked, his voice like honey. Healing my mind slowly.

I laughed lightly, squeezing myself tighter with the blanket, turning to face him slowly. But not wanting to meet his eyes quite yet.

"You always know the answer, and somehow you are always asking." I told him, trying to make the moment lighter. But that seemed impossible.

"I never wanna force you to talk. I know you lie to me sometimes, saying you're okay when you're not. And yeah it sucks not being able to do anything for you, but I'll wait until you wanna talk." Leon told me, his hand twitching by his side, so badly wanting to lift my chin to meet his gaze I'm sure.

"I see you took our You gotta be patient with me talk serious." I said, lifting my eyes to meet with his. His eyes weren't anything of judgement or disappointment, only love.

"Of course I did, it's what you wanted." Leon told me, making me furrow my brows. And for a split second I couldn't even begin to understand the random emotion that popped up.

Shaking my head, I wanted to forget.

"Well, I could be better. Just.. tired." I answered his earlier question. His look of pity deepened.

"I guess you're always tired huh?" Leon asked, trying to make a joke. Lightening the mood, but I couldn't convince myself to smile.

"Yeah." I whispered, picking at the end of the blanket now.

"Quit doing that." He scolded me playfully, but I could tell the serious tone it had.

"Doing what?" I asked, already having a good idea.

He tilted his head like a frustrated Father.

"Pushing me away." He said, his tone soft again. He scooted closer.

I wanted to bury myself in his arms, but I knew I couldn't.

Ever since Raccoon City, I can't help but think about Leon and I. What we have, it doesn't seem.. right. We fell in love so fast, it just doesn't make sense. Nights on end I have conversations with myself, trying to convince myself that I really am in love with him. But then I think.. What if it's all a trauma bond? I could never admit this to Leon, because I know he'd tell me something different. Why is it only me that thinks this?

"I'm trying not to, I'm sorry." I told him, and he nodded his head. Understanding.

"Don't apologize. Just stay." He asked me, and opened his arms, inviting in his warmth.

With a nod I scooted close and snuggled myself in his embrace. Melting me with his warm touch, his scent intoxicating me. I held back my tears and buried my face into his chest. When I did that I felt his arms tighten around my body, shielding me away from all the monsters.

Ones that roamed the world, and the ones in my head.

I could hear Leon's heart beating quick, the thumps strong against his chest. I wondered if his heart was beating out of love, or was it fear that if he released me, I'd disappear.

LEON’S POV

Both.

[dangerously-human]

Fanfic Writer Emoji Ask

😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write?

💖 What made you start writing?

🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?

Shel my beloved, I love that I didn't even reblog that post and you still came in with all the best questions. You are a treasure.

😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?

Listen. I'm glad that I wrote A Thousand Reasons (Continuum). It got me out of a years-long writing slump, which turned out to be a key piece of working through a depression relapse after weaning off meds and going through trauma at work. Parts of it are good! It is, however, sloppy, and it's perhaps my one work I just cannot reread. I was writing entirely by the seat of my pants, and hadn't written anything with a multichapter arc before, and I ended up rushing the timeline and pushing the characters OOC in spots that I kept feeling like I had to fix with the remainder of the story.

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

I still crack myself up with the bit in the middle of Woke Up in a Safe House Singing (L&Co) where Lockwood's going on about future plans and who'll have which room, including a potential nursery, when they're married, and Lucy just holds up her left hand to go "uhh... did you forget to ask me something?"

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

Oh, jeez. Probably Cupid's Bow (Marvel), lmao. Or maybe my super angsty AU-of-an-AU, A Thousand Shards of Glass (Continuum), which follows up on its super sweet and fluffy predecessor with the Major Character Death tag.

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

Ooh, okay, so I've had one song on loop for fic outlining purposes recently, but it's for a ~super secret~ songfic, so I shan't say. However, as a clue, it has definitely been in the sicko blend on a few occasions, and originally not from me...

🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write?

I usually do my best writing between 9pm and 1am, which is really only doable on a Friday night.

💖 What made you start writing?

I've been telling stories since before I can remember, even before I could really talk, according to my parents. My favorite activity as a kid was walking around outside for hours, bouncing a ball and telling myself stories, often with recurring worlds and characters. At some point, I realized I could maybe make a book out of some of those. But I'd already been writing little one-off stories, sometimes in tiny books I organized into a family library system. As for fanfiction... I think my high school friend group wrote fanfic, or at the very least talked about it and would print out faves and pass them around at school. Eventually I spent a free period in the library banging out a Supernatural fic on a school computer, and the rest is history...

🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?

It being finished, and a sense that I said what I meant to. Comments that talk about something I worked really hard on, whether that's a line or symbolism or a theme, certainly help as a gold star sticker.

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

Gosh, you tell me - I think readers tend to notice that more than we do as writers! Well, one thing I've noticed with my Lockwood & Co fanfic journey in particular is I keep coming back to Lucy and Lockwood's relationship as an image of sacramental marriage, even in the canon era, his leadership and the way they defend each other, possessiveness in the healthy sense, very "I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine," and love as growth, as a verb, willing and acting for the beloved's greatest good. Partly this is a reflection of stuff I've been learning and thinking about a lot lately, and partly it's just very much there in canon and impossible to ignore (certainly when you read through a salt and light lens).

🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?

Action, jeez - how do human bodies move again? And historical fiction. Sci-fi is easier, it doesn't have to match what's real.

[newengland-alligator]

Assassin's Creed: The Golden City Review

So I recently finished reading Assassin's Creed: The Golden City by Jaleigh Johnson.

I'd rate this a 4 out of 5 stars.

Below the read-more I'll go a bit in-depth on what I liked, disliked and ect. This is NOT spoiler free, so if you want to avoid spoilers do not read this review.

The Plot:

"A young emperor’s life hangs in the balance in ancient Constantinople, and only the Brotherhood of Assassins can save him, in this action-packed historical adventure from the award-winning Assassin’s Creed universe.

Constantinople, 867 – A murderous plot is afoot. Assisted by the Order of the Ancients, the emperor schemes to assassinate his son and throw the city into chaos. In response, the Hidden Ones have dispatched Assassin acolyte Hytham to join his mentor, Basim Ibn Ishaq, to infiltrate the palace and foil the emperor’s plan. But that is not his only mission… Hytham’s brotherhood have entrusted him with uncovering where Basim’s true loyalties lie and whether the master Assassin’s personal obsessions outweigh his sense of duty. For Hytham to succeed, he must tread carefully, for Constantinople is a city of shadows, and danger hides in all of them."

This book was a very quick read for me. I basically devoured it within a couple days (it only took me that long because I had to work and sleep lol).

The plot itself is very straightforward, and it's ok overall, nothing spectacular. It did feel like the author was trying to make the mystery of who the head of this branch of the Order of Ancients was, as well as who the attempted assassin of Prince Leo was, more of a surprise, but it wasn't to me personally. I also wasn't expecting it to, and I don't hold it against the book.

Here are some lines that I particularly liked;

Mist threaded the uneven ground...a thick white river that Hytham shredded as he walked.

(Chapter 1, page 7, paragraph 2).

...The dancing flame cast long shadows on the wall and revealed a dark, sinuous shape cresting the foot of the bed. Serrated scales contrasted sharply with the pale blankets...

(Chapter 8, page 84, paragraph 3).

Hytham laid his hands against the cool stones, feeling salt spray his lips, fazing out at the cast stretch of black water scrolling away to the horizon.

"I've heard the sea at night can be terrifying to new sailors unused to being on the water," Basim said.

Hytham glanced at him. "I've always found it comforting," he said, "that there's something out there in the world so much bigger and grander than myself." He smiled ruefully. "Even if it seems infinite and likely to swallow me whole."

(Chapter 14, page 143, paragraph 8).

They had maneuvered themselves behind their targets. The rain his any sound their footfalls might have made, and they moved through water as effortlessly as air. The shadows held them safely, concealing them from the rest of the world. Because the shadows were their home, that liminal space where they could hide and observe. Or hunt.

(Chapter 15, page 159, paragraph 5).

...The height was dizzying, and below them in the harbor, the ships looked like tiny toy boats, the water turned to glittering shards of broken lights.

It hurt his eyes, but it was beautiful. (Chapter 28, page 288, paragraph 3).

Characters:

Except for Hytham, Basim and Leo, most of the other side characters were rather plain in my opinion. Thyra, Anna and Eudokia Ingerina were cool. I was hoping we were going to get more insight into Thyra and the Varangian Guard due to Hytham masquerading as a member, but there really wasn't much except for Basim asking a couple questions here or there.

It was nice to get a book with Hytham's POV. We get to see some of that rash, desperate to prove, but still calculating and dangerous individual we meet in AC: Valhalla. Unfortunately we don't get like, ANY backstory from him other than he used to want to be a father, until he became a Hidden One and further realized how dangerous his world was.

It was pretty disappointing as I was hoping to learn more about his story, but at least we got to see through his eyes, which was great. I love Hytham, definitely still one of my favorite characters in the Assassin's Creed series. His relationship with Leo was very sweet, and it was touching to see how quickly they bonded.

Hytham's relationship with Basim was very fun to read! The sparring scenes were some of my favorite parts of the book. It's very obvious from the get-go that Basim has some vaguely parental feelings about Hytham, where as Hytham is constantly torn between liking Basim, being unnerved by him, and struggling to trust him after Master Rayhan tells him that Basim is untrustworthy.

After Hytham makes a mistake that gets him captured by the Order of the Ancients, Basim risks the mission in order to rescue Hytham, despite not even knowing if Hytham is still alive. By the end of the book Hytham fully trusts Basim and is willing to help him search for whatever (or whomever) it is that Basim is searching for amongst the Norse.

This brings me to Basim. I loved how Jaleigh Johnson wrote him. It was perfect blend of arrogant asshole, incredibly smart, and almost supernaturally unnerving. The book seems to solidify my headcannon that yes, Basim had definitely become preoccupied with his obsession with finding Havi, but he was still absolutely loyal to the Hidden Ones and the Creed.

I do wish that his and Hytham's relationship had more time spent on it. We know that Basim thinks of Hytham as a son, that he cares deeply about him despite not wanting to (he's still haunted by the trauma of his own son's death), but we don't really get to see why. The book starts with Hytham and Basim only having known each other for a very short period of time, and the events of the book take place over what, a couple weeks? Their relationship, and Basim in general, was done very well, it just felt a little rushed at times.

Unlike with Hytham, we did get to learn more about Basim. His father was apparently abusive (whether this was before or after his father was exiled is unclear), he has a affinity with wolves, is terrified of Loki, and whatever happened to cause the loss of Enkidu has left him scarred mentally.

So all in all, I did enjoy the book and will definitely reread it! Here's to hoping that Ubi continues to put out Hytham content 🤞