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#and the STAR WARS ONE BLESS I LOVE IT
masterkeynobi · 2 years
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obitine are so fucking fun GLDKASFJSDGHKLDSJ she gets under his skin so well
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fceriestcrdst · 2 years
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my brain is full of asd jediestormpilot thoughts now---
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edenesth · 17 days
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TWTHH Bonus: Honeymoon Avenue
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Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 2.7k
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
A/N: This picks up directly from the final part of TWTHH, and takes place before the events of Wooyoung's spinoff.
Fic Masterlist | Star of the Show
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You let out a small groan as you woke up from your slumber, feeling a familiar pair of arms tightening their hold around you. Your heart skipped a beat as you remembered where you were, blinking a few times to clear your vision and take in the surroundings you recognised as Seonghwa's private quarters.
Warmth rushed to your cheeks as you felt your husband's steady breath against the bare skin of your shoulder from behind. Shyness washed over you when you realised you were both still completely bare beneath the fabric of his comforter.
Memories of the intimacy from the previous night flooded your mind, and you buried your face in the pillow. It was as if you could still feel every touch, every kiss, and every moment of pleasure he had given you. So, this was how it felt to be loved so passionately. You hoped for nothing more than for him to be your first and last.
"Good morning, my love. I see you're up," his deep voice greeted, sounding even deeper than usual as he had only just woken up. He leaned in to whisper sensually into your ear before planting a soft kiss on your cheek, "Did you sleep well?"
Turning to face him, you nodded meekly, biting your lip, "I did, Hwa. Good morning to you too," you replied, feeling your breath hitch as his gaze focused solely on your lips.
He nodded in response, "Good, so did I." Without hesitation, he cupped your cheek and pressed his lips firmly against yours.
Your eyes fluttered shut the moment his familiar lips met yours. Kissing him back as if it were second nature, you wished for this moment to last forever as his larger frame enveloped yours, the skin-to-skin contact creating an intimacy that made you feel closer than ever. His ability to make you feel vulnerable yet safe at the same time still filled you with wonder. At that moment, his presence was all-encompassing; he was all you could see and think of.
I can't believe this man is all mine.
Seonghwa, equally content, felt his heart swell with affection for you. Caressing your cheek, he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, struggling to control his breathing when you bravely reached up to run your fingers through his hair, gently tugging at it. Despite witnessing your growing boldness since his return from war, your reciprocation of his affections still stirred his heart.
I'm yours and only yours, my love.
As you finally broke the kiss to catch your breath, he grinned and murmured, "Damn, Lady Park, who would've thought you'd be such an excellent kisser." Despite the blush creeping up your cheeks, you scoffed playfully. Moving to lay your head on his chest, you traced patterns on his skin with your finger, "What do you know, General Park? You speak as though you've kissed anyone other than me."
His pride swelled as he nodded in defeat to your response. Day by day, you were increasingly embodying the essence of the general's wife with your newfound demeanour. It wasn't that you needed to change for him; rather, it was remarkable to witness your transformation into a confident woman who knew her worth, having shed the old shell crafted by your so-called family. Reflecting on his time away at war, he began to see it as a blessing in disguise. Perhaps it was necessary for you to undergo further personal growth.
Nestling into the curve of his neck, you pulled the comforter up higher to conceal your front. A shiver raced down your spine as his hand traced gentle patterns on your bare back beneath the fabric, making you feel slightly bashful at being so exposed to him. He smirked, placing a kiss on your neck and teasing, "Are you getting shy now, my wife? There's no need to cover up or hide from me; I've already seen everything."
"You can be so annoying, you know that?" Rolling your eyes, you playfully pushed at his chest, but he easily resisted, his strength overpowering your feeble attempts. With feather-light kisses dancing across your skin, he tickled you, eliciting a giggle. Chuckling, he remarked, "Oh, come on. I miss the bold Lady Park who took charge last night."
Blushing, you let out an embarrassed squeal, "Oh, quit it! Stop reminding me!" He chuckled, hugging you close against him, his voice teasing as he whispered in your ear, "Remember how badly you wanted me to undo your hanbok?"
"Shut up, Park Seonghwa, or else—"
"Or else what, my dear Lady Park?"
Your husband's smug grin only fueled your frustration. Summoning a surge of determination, you swiftly flipped him onto the bed, looming over him as you straddled his hips, "I'll make you regret it," you declared, a playful glare in your eyes.
His heart skipped a beat as he looked up at you, struck by your beauty with your long hair framing your face like a curtain.
"Go ahead, my love. Make me regret."
Unbeknownst to the two, Eunsook and the group of maids assigned to bathe the couple all exchanged sheepish glances. The head maid cleared her throat, shooting a stern look at the young maids to silence them for fear of alerting you both, ordering in a soft voice, "We'll come back later. It seems the master and mistress are not quite prepared to begin their day just yet."
Jongho was taken aback to see the elderly woman return with the maids she had brought along, supposedly to get the couple ready for the day, "Huh? Are you all finished already? That was fast."
Dismissing the maids, Eunsook offered the assistant a knowing smile, "It appears the master and mistress are, um... still occupied at the moment. We'll come back later to check on them. For now, please ensure no one disturbs them."
His ears turned red as he registered what she meant by that, nodding quickly, "Y-yes, of course! I'll make sure no one passes through."
As half a day slipped away, you and Seonghwa finally emerged from his quarters, ready to receive your baths. The maids couldn't contain their giggles as they noticed the new marks adorning your skin, evidence of the passionate night—and morning—you and the general had shared. These marks were different from your old scars—they spoke of love and affection rather than pain. You pouted at their laughter, but they only laughed harder, "Enough, you meanies."
Eunsook softened as she washed your hair, "We're just happy for you, mistress. You are happy, aren't you?"
You bit your lip, nodding, "I am happy. The happiest woman on earth, if possible."
"Then that's all that matters to us."
Their hearts warmed at the beautiful smile that graced your face, wishing for nothing more than for you to remain content for as long as possible. You, the miracle who had brought so much light into the once sombre halls of the general's estate, truly deserved all the happiness in the world.
On the other side of the room, while assisting his master with the final touches of his outfit for the day, Jongho couldn't help but notice Seonghwa's dreamy expression and the persistent little smile on his handsome face.
"You seem to be in a good mood, sir," the assistant remarked as he focused on fastening the ribbons on the general's attire. Your husband nodded, "I am. Who would've thought married life isn't half as bad as we initially believed. In fact, it's pretty damn amazing. You should try it too, Jongho."
Blinking rapidly, the younger man raised a brow, "Try what? Marriage? Sir, I have no time for that. I'd make a terrible husband."
Seonghwa sighed, "See, that's your problem. You're always too dedicated, never making time for yourself. As much as I value your dedication, I want you to find happiness too."
"I am content, sir."
"Oh, come on, that's not what I meant—"
"Your outfit is ready, sir. You're all set."
Shaking his head in resignation, the general rubbed his temples, "Wooyoung was right about you. You need to get a life."
"He said what? The audacity—"
Heaving a deep sigh, Seonghwa rubbed his eyes after going over all the reports Mingi had prepared detailing every aspect of the recent war with Ruhon—the strategies employed and areas for improvement. The documents required his stamp of approval before they were shipped off to be stored in the palace archives. The military strategist had provided such detailed explanations that they were now giving him a headache.
"Gosh, I can't decide whether I love or hate Officer Song for these long ass reports. They're thorough to the point of being exhausting," he said with a shake of his head, "Is that everything, Jongho?"
The assistant nodded, gathering the completed scrolls to be delivered to San for a final vetting, "Yes, sir. That was the last of it. You're finished for the day. If that is all, I should probably hand these over to Royal Secretary Choi immediately."
"Oh, thank god. Go ahead, Jongho."
With a respectful bow, the younger man did not waste another second making a beeline for the exit, his mind focused on nothing else but his task. The general stared after him with a defeated huff, wishing for his aide to be a little less uptight and to live a little, "I should probably find him a wife."
Speaking of wives, he was reminded of his own. Suddenly, all concerns for Jongho's love life were pushed to the back of his mind and forgotten. Excitedly rising from his seat, his heart raced with anticipation as he set off to find you. He felt bad for leaving you alone for most of the day due to his work, but now he couldn't wait to have you all to himself.
Oh, it would feel like paradise.
He frowned, his steps faltering when he found you nowhere in the House of Lotus. Hastening his pace, he headed to the garden, where you often spent time tending to the flowers with Eunsook and the maids, only to find it empty. As a last resort, he even checked Yunho's quarters, torn between relief at finding the physician alone and frustration at not finding you.
Could you be upset with him for not spending time with you all day? No, that didn't seem like you at all. You were literally the most understanding person he knew. So, where could you be hiding? The wildest scenarios began to creep into his mind when he couldn't find you. What if his enemies had somehow infiltrated the estate? What if you were kidnapped? What if—
His thoughts were interrupted by the sight of you in the living hall, seated with Hongjoong and Wooyoung, seemingly engrossed in something. The two men watched you intently, particularly the investigator, who seemed more focused on your face than whatever you were doing. With a clearing of his throat, Seonghwa crossed his arms over his chest, "What are you three up to?"
Turning to glare at him, the dressmaker hushed him, "Keep it down, you doofus! She's trying to concentrate!"
Feeling offended, your husband narrowed his eyes and stepped closer to finally see what you had been up to; you were focused on learning embroidery. It dawned on him that Hongjoong must be teaching you a bit about his craft. He softened as he observed the deeply immersed look on your face, with your tongue poking out of the corner of your lips in concentration.
Good lord, she looks adorable.
In his attempt to move closer to you, he was met with yet another warning glare, causing annoyance to bubble within him. While he was grateful for the company Hongjoong and Wooyoung provided you in his absence, a part of him couldn't shake the irritation of seeing you accompanied by other men, even if they were his friends.
At that moment, he questioned why the guys were still around. The dressmaker, physician, and investigator had only been summoned while he was away at war to watch over you. Now that he was back home, he realised their presence was no longer necessary. It was then that he made a firm decision. From now on, he was determined to spend this time after your wedding alone with you.
The general wasted no time gathering his three friends that evening as soon as your embroidery lesson came to an end. With a polite yet firm tone, he explained his desire to have some alone time with you, dismissing them from the estate. Hongjoong and Yunho exchanged knowing glances, understanding the importance of the honeymoon period for passionate newlyweds like yourselves. Although Wooyoung was reluctant to go, he ultimately knew he had no choice but to comply with Seonghwa's request.
In a matter of days, the trio officially left the estate, returning to their own lives. This left you and your husband alone at last, ready to begin this new chapter of your lives together.
True to his expectations, the weeks that followed were pure bliss. He requested time off from work, and His Majesty was happy to oblige. He spent nearly every waking hour glued to you. By this point, everyone in the estate knew better than to interrupt when the master and mistress wanted privacy, ensuring the couple had all the intimate moments they needed. There were even jokes among the staff that a little Park might be on the way soon at this rate.
And perhaps their predictions weren't so far-fetched after all. It was on a fine day when you were spending another lovely afternoon in the House of Lotus practising embroidering, or at least tried to, with your husband seated behind you, his arms encircling your frame, that you began to show signs of sickness.
Leaving kisses all over your neck, he tickled you endlessly, causing you to giggle and push him away, "Hwa, please, I can't focus when you keep—" Before you could finish your sentence, a sudden wave of nausea hit you, and you let out a small gasp, pressing a hand to your chest to contain it.
Concerned, he immediately stopped and turned you around gently, "What is it, my love? Are you alright?"
"I-I'm fine... the feeling's gone, maybe it was something I ate," you reassured him when he suggested summoning the physician. Eventually, he relented and left you alone.
The second time occurred during dinner, with the kitchen having prepared one of your favourite dishes. Instead of savouring it as you normally would, you pressed a hand to your nose, "You okay, my wife?" you nodded and attempted to eat, only to end up retching from the smell of the dish.
Once again, you insisted you were fine and refused to see the doctor. He let you be, telling himself that if anything else were to happen, he wouldn't hesitate to call Yunho over. You convinced him that you must have caught the cold or something, seemingly fine after some rest.
The breaking point came during a leisurely stroll together in the garden. He tightened his hold on you when he noticed you swaying slightly. Smiling up at him, you reassured him, "I'm fine, Hwa. You worry too much." To ease his worries, you pressed your lips against his. For a moment, it worked, and he lost himself in the sweet kiss.
However, when you pulled back, seemingly out of breath, his heart lurched in his chest as your eyes rolled back, and he didn't waste a second catching your limp form in his arms.
"Jongho! Get Physician Jung here now!"
The sense of terror hit Seonghwa like a tidal wave as he found himself cradling you, unconscious, on his bed. Seeing you like this scared him more than any war ever could. Yunho rushed in shortly after, and the general reluctantly stepped aside to let the doctor examine you. Gently, he held your wrist, reading your pulse, after ensuring you were physically alright.
A few tense moments later, the taller man turned around with a smile, and your husband held his breath, "Congratulations, General Park. Your wife is with child."
Emotions surged within your husband as he released a sigh of relief, tears gathering in his eyes. The realisation dawned on him—of course, you were pregnant. How had he not considered that sooner? Slowly, the significance of it all began to sink in. The love of his life was carrying his child.
I'm going to be a father.
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Y'all, I was sleep-deprived asf writing the second half part of this bonus part HAHA I hope it didn't seem rushed or anything.
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
Tag list (1/3): @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol @atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii @ddaeing @sansaurora9904 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo @puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @aliona124754 @bts-army380 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @pay13 @1117promises @xoxkii @st4rhwa @hikarii02 @nescaffei @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @skzline @minkiflwr @starssongs98 @baeksofty @skz1-4-3 @kawaiikels @madnpan @en-happiness @cheolliehugs @persnyako @startinystay @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina @kyukyustar @taytayy178 @appleschre @brielle-in-the-galaxy @laurenwidjaja @yangwonielvrs @n1k1mura @idkwgoh @loveateez @linosllvr @idfkeddieishot
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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.
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verstarppen · 7 months
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summary; there's little time between fast cars and spaceships, but you make it work
pairing; lando norris x fem! star wars actress! reader [ no faceclaim ]
a/n; ahhh sorry for the late update i was planning a birthday party in a hospital dw about it anyway thank you for supporting this so i can keep geeking out on random star wars lore to you AND HAPPY OSCAR PODIUM GIRLIES LET'S GOOOOOOO!!! [ series masterlist ]
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liked by yn.jpg, daniel3.jpg, oscarpiastri and 295,565 others
lando.jpg here we go
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yn.jpg this is my boyfriend lando and this is his boyfriend oscar
lando.jpg can you stop pimping me out yn.jpg when you post me on this account i will
oscarpiastri 🤙
yn.jpg HOMEWRECKER
vertiddieenjoyer finally some good fucking strategies
julyestie let's go papaya nation 🧡🧡
holidaykimi watch him get his first win because y/n's there to watch him
maria_carrey i hope you're a prophet 🙏
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liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 496,872 others
yndeathtrooper wait y'all this formula one shit's kinda cool
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landonorris oh you just HAD to sneak max in there
maxverstappen1 I'm the favorite child danielricciardo Excuse me? maxverstappen1 You've been excused
ahsokawife I started watching to support your boyfriend!!
yndeathtrooper thank you random person on the internet, i'll show your comment to him yndeathtrooper update: he giggled landonorris lies.
chisslover so no press tour this year?
super_max y/n red bull stan arc
yndeathtrooper i'm here for max don't lie to yourself landonorris YOU WERE THE CHOSEN ONE. IT WAS SAID THAT YOU WOULD DESTROY THE RED BULLS, NOT JOIN THEM. BRING BALANCE TO THE FORCE, NOT LEAVE IT IN DARKNESS... YOU WERE MY GIRLFRIEND, Y/N. I LOVED YOU. yndeathtrooper do not use my own spells against me, plebeian
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liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 400,001 others
yn.jpg god bless the supernova which exploded and coalesced ino the atoms that formed my beautiful muppet
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landonorris i love supporting my obsessed fans
yn.jpg red bull garage kinda looking good right now landonorris i will do what i must. (you won't be able to walk there by the time i'm done with you) yn.jpg you will try
staraikkonen So are we just going to ignore their comments or 😭😭😭
applenorizz they're so embarrassing (i love them) lukestarkiller i choose to live in ignorance
danielricciardo Every day i wake up against my will
yn.jpg HE STARTED IT landonorris l + ratio + didn't ask + cope + you love me
christianhorner You're always welcome to the Red Bull garage
landonorris BABE GET BEHIND ME 🤺 BACK YOU KNAVE, BACK I SAID yn.jpg sorry mr horner, boytoy said no
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pic credits: instagram and pinterest
taglist: @justdreamersdream @cha-hot @dl-yum @minkyungseokie @allywthsr @eugene-emt-roe @soleilgrec @raevyng @baw-sixteen @palomaxaxaxa @cassiopeiia24 @callsignwidow @sheridamn (taglist is open!)
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rayroseu · 3 months
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"Don't be scared even if we wake up from this dream..."
Happy Birthday, Malleus! 🧁🐉✨
I love to think that those years where Malleus was refusing to hatch, he spent those years with Meleanor in the stars...🥹🥹
A Draconias death means they're returning to the stars... which makes me think that Draconias are from the stars before they're born in TWST... Them not being from TWST exactly explains why they're so "unrealistic" in the first place
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They can control the weather, they can engulf the sky in complete darkness, they can cast random mountains, they can return a past state of time, they can trespass on a person's dream, they can switch between several people's consciousness, they can stop time, they can cover an entire island and more in thorns and magic, they can make two realms collide, etc
All these traits are incredibly unreal for average TWST cast,,,, which made me think, why is this family the only ones who's so... overpowered?lol But if you think that they are like this, because they're not from this world(TWST) then it would explain why their abilities are "out of this world's realistic standards" in the first place.
Additionally, Malleus' eggshells resembles the galaxy which further proof they can be from the stars✨✨✨ Malleus is also referred to by Meleanor as "a blessed star for faes but a terrifying star for humans".... So she referred to Malleus as a star yk
There's also the fairy from Pinocchio who came from a star, so faes (like Draconias in this theory) can come from stars
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So it's like Meleanor who died and returned to the stars but Malleus who's not born and still in the stars, they spent time together there,,,, that's why Malleus took a long time to hatch, because he already has the parental love he craves for as a baby in this star, so why should he live or be born in TWST?🥹
I remember Malleus fears the unknown, and being born in a world is exactly that. But he, as an egg, lights up whenever Lilia talks to him about his life in TWST, so it gives Malleus an idea that this world isn't that terrifying and that he wouldn't be born alone.
(From Meleanor's Lullaby)"Stay with the eyes that still gaze upon you, don't be scared, even if you wake up from this dream" its like during his centuries of incubation, Meleanor was comforting malleus not to be scared and to wake up in the real world now.... even if once he hatches/wakes up, she won't be there for him anymore and he'll forget everything about her (except for the tiny lullaby she often sings to him)🥹😔😔
(tl by cymr on yt)
I guess the reason why Malleus finally hatched is because Meleanor was telling him to go now and experience the world who's not riddled with war and the world where Lilia fully realized his love for Malleus now-- Because he won't be alone. For Lilia will be with him.
That's why when he was an egg he constantly cries for Lilia bcs thats how Meleanor conveyed it to Malleus that Lilia is always there for him, that he can love Malleus if she can't be by Malleus' side...😭😭
There's also this lyric from Meleanor's lullaby... "May you walk to the light that guides you in your dreams" It pains me because Meleanor overblotted during her death, right? And overblotting can mean succumbing to "darkness", so she maybe wishing for Malleus not to be engulfed in darkness (overblot) by walking towards the "light" but uh.... Book 7 😭😭😭💔💔💔
In conclusion, another Malleyuu parallel 😳✨☝🏻 Malleus and Yuu are both not from this world, that's why they're so out of place... Hm...🥹🥹🥹
This is inspired by Mafumafu-san's Nighty Night and bcs of this song I got hit by this theory for Meleanor and Malleus during his centuries of incubation 😭✨🥹
I'm still wishing for more Meleanor and Malleus content, ‼️‼️‼️I will die on this hill istgg😭😭😭
Once again, Happiest Birthday, Hornton 🥰🥰☺️🥳🥳🧁🧁✨✨💚💚🐉🐉
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Orc Husband x Human Reader
Synopsis: You and your husband relish in the company of one another as old memories wander back to you.
You clawed at the furs on Kilian’s bed in an attempt to stay balanced. You stayed on your hands and knees as he fucked you from behind, with so much urgency you would have thought you were on the brink of death. 
“God,” you moaned. 
Your husband had been away for two weeks, traveling with his war council to facilitate peace talks with neighboring kingdoms in the region. Two weeks without your touch had driven him mad. His dreams were filled with you straddling him, bouncing up and down on his cock, breasts unrestrained, mouth screaming for a release. When he awoke he’d be forced to alleviate himself with the aid of his hand, not nearly as satisfying as sinking into you. 
So when he arrived back to the stronghold he needed you. And you needed him. The two of you hardly waisted a second. Not even fully removing your clothes before fucking. 
“Kilian. I’m coming! I’m coming!” you shrieked.
His grip tighten on your ass. 
“So am I,” he managed to get out. 
He hastily pulled you up and pressed the back of your body to his, taking the opportunity to cup your bare breast with his calloused hand. 
You let out a painfully delightful whimper as you orgasm spread through you. Closing your eyes you allowed yourself to relax as Kilian’s warm seed released inside you. 
~
The two of you completely undressed and laid beneath the furs in one anothers arms. 
“You were amazing,” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. 
“Let me accompany you next time my love. I don’t want to be separated from you like that again,” you begged.
“I know my darling. It was hard for me as well. But these missions can be dangerous. I’d never forgive myself if something were to happen to you.”
You kissed his pectoral and nuzzled closer. “I know. But the nights were so lonely without you in our bed.”
You kissed his nipple, taking his piercing between your teeth and giving it the smallest tug. 
“(Name),” he growled. 
You smirked pulling yourself up and settling on top of him. “I remember when you first came into my town. How handsome you were. How kind you were.”
He cupped your faced in his hand. “You were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.”
“We became friends, but then we became more.”
“I still remember the first time.”
“Under the stars,” you mused. “In the poppy field.”
He smiled, remebering every detail. 
The love in your eyes. The trembling of your legs as you wrapped them against his waist. How you cried out to the heavens, giving thanks for meeting him. 
“You had to marry me,” you teased. “To make an honest woman of me.”
“An honor I happily took.”
“I love you Kilian.”
“I love you two (Name).”
The two of you spent the remainder of the night reminiscing about your lives together. The blessing it was. 
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b1rds3ye · 7 months
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I really love your masked reader headcannons!! Especially the LED mask ones. I think it’s such a fun concept and the way all the boys react/ accommodate the reader and their preferences is so sweet!
So idk what your familiarity to Star Wars is but there’s a people (Mandalorians) who traditionally wear armor that covers their faces and bodies pretty much all the time. As such there’s something called a kelblade kiss and what that is is when two mandos press their helmeted foreheads together as a way to show affection when they’re all armored up. I was thinking about this and how the 141 would react if the masked reader leaned their forehead against them in lieu of kissing their cheek in a moment where they wanted to be affectionate but leave the mask on? If you have thoughts I would love to know! <3
OMG THIS IS SO CUTE!! I was raised on the og Star Wars trilogy, even the prequel 3 by George Lucas but I've completely fallen off since Disney's taken the reigns 😭😭 BUT YES I know Mandalorian I didn't know they had the little kiss thing though IT'S SO SWEET TO IMAGINE
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Any physical contact with Price is generally rare when he's on duty, it comes with him just being busy and the natural commanding presence as captain. But when you first press your forehead against his, John's initial confusion gives him a respite from the stress of the military now that his entire focus is on you. It seems he needed the affection more than you did. Now your little forehead taps are his lifeline. Your mask always gets his bucket hat tilting off angle, the front rim a little crumpled when you pull away, but it always leaves him wearing a fond grin that is for you and you alone.
It's a little awkward trying to do it with Ghost, not only is Simon inconveniently tall but his own hard mask makes such a gesture of affection have the tact of a kid shoving the faces of two plastic dolls together. Simon is solid and immovable, and is far too entertained by you nearly self-concussing as you tap your forehead against his, stumbling back in a slight daze. Still, the intentions aren't lost on him and they're very much appreciated. He doesn't do them back, but in more serious moments, he lets you stay, forehead against his. He can't see your eyes but he makes sure you can see the emotions swimming in his.
Soap absolutely adores them! It's your own little form of affection and he loves the little quirks that come with your mask. But for whatever reason, he's taking your little forehead touch as a competition. "Did nae feel a thing!" Johnny would complain, taunting you to go harder next time. At this rate he's just asking to be clobbered across the head but he believes that if it's from you, that's a damn blessing and whatever bruise that comes from it he'll wear with pride. He always reciprocates in kind. It's more of a headbutt with his over-enthusiasm but he must have a forehead of steel or something because he always pulls away beaming.
Your little forehead taps always leave Gaz giggling and bashful. It's been a little harder as of late since he now wears a cap with a hard brim, for a while Kyle thought your lack of recent "mask kisses" was because the two of you had unfortunately drifted apart. He now foregoes the cap whenever you're around. When you enter the room he gives an exaggerated bow down to you, jerking his head up to signal to his forehead and he won't move an inch until you greet him with a forehead tap (this also happens if you ever have to leave the conversation). He tried to give a forehead tap back once but he was a little too enthusiastic and needed frozen peas to the head for the rest of the day.
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Call of Duty Masterlist Masked Reader Masterlist
552 notes · View notes
harmonictechnicality · 8 months
Text
*no rest for the wicked*
my teensy contribution to @thefreakandthehair's spicy six summer collection 💖 | word count: 3k | rating: T | ao3 link | also, this wouldn't exist if @chocoarts didn't send me a sketch that immediately set off sparklers in my brain so bless youuu ✨
Twenty-six hours. That’s how long Eddie has been up. Twenty-six hours and twelve minutes. The heaviness hanging in his eyes is medieval-level torturous, and the cramp in his left calf is probably permanent by now. 
A sane person who enjoys sleeping might be asking, ‘Why? Why put yourself through this when there’s a perfectly decent bed down the hall?’ And Eddie would be forced to reply back with two, simple words:
Concert. Tickets.
That’s right, Eddie is actively murdering his own brain cells to win two vip tickets on the radio. Twenty-seven hours ago, it seemed like a grand idea. Genius, even. It’s free and minimal effort - he just has to call the station every hour on the dot. No biggie, right?
Ha, sure. Tell that to the muscles in his eyelids.
“How much longer do you have?” Chrissy asks, snagging a magazine from the stack on the couch.
Eddie checks his watch. Huffs out a laugh. “Let’s just say, I could watch the entire Star Wars trilogy including the credits for each one.”
“Translating to...?”
“Seven-ish hours.” Robin quickly chimes. She pops out of her bedroom and joins Chrissy’s side, instantly threading their hands together. They share a look, one that makes Eddie believe in nice things, even in his state of misery. It’s their superpower, injecting their optimistic outlook into the atmosphere. Infectious in the best way. 
“I always forget that you speak fluent nerd.” Chrissy snorts.
“Ouch.” Robin gasps and pulls away, stomping off to their room. Too dramatic to be believable. “Get back to bed before I actually feel offended by that.”
Normally, Eddie is charmed by how hopelessly in love his roommates are with each other. But right now, they are his mortal enemies (well, tied with The Clock), because they get to sleep and he gets to stare at the lightbulb in the ceiling fan. Every now and then, it flickers, which never fails to startle him. 
Good. He desperately needs the extra alertness. 
Another forty-five minutes go by before anything noteworthy happens. Eddie’s other roommate gets off his night shift around one in the morning. The front door squeals as it opens, crackling all the adrenaline leftover in Eddie’s body. 
“Scared the shit out of me, man.” Which could’ve been a literal statement if Eddie hadn’t just taken a bathroom break.
“Gotta get this door fixed.” Steve says. That’s what he always says when it creaks. The reaction never changes, always skating his fingers over the door hinges, mouth twisting to the side. Hands on his hips in disapproval. Eddie has to look away before Steve breaks out his insufferably cute ‘foot tap’ routine. “Hey - why are you still up?”
Ah, yes. Just what Eddie needed. A reminder that it’s fucking late. He finds the energy (or common decency, who knows) to point at the phone. Then to the radio.
“You’re still doing that, huh?”
Eddie nods twice.
“Damn, I’ve never heard you this quiet.” Steve sounds genuinely surprised. A little too smug for Eddie’s liking. “Didn’t know your mouth could stay in a straight line for this long.”
There it is. The rich boy smartassery that will never die. Always lurking in the depths of his genetic makeup.
Eddie claps, total deadpan.
The conversation lulls while Steve messes around in the kitchen for a bit. He’s noisily opening cabinets and clanking dishes around in the sink. Eventually, he walks back into the living room with two beers. 
Both for him apparently. “Well, listen,” he starts out. Kicks his feet up on the coffee table. “I’m pretty wired after work, so if you need some company-”
“Six… hours… left.” Eddie musters out.
“Okay well, I doubt I’ll last that long. But I can give it a shot.”
Eddie smirks, raises both eyebrows. “There’s a dirty joke somewhere in there. Too tired to find it though.”
“Good to know the horny part of your mind is still awake.” Steve gives Eddie a small pat on the head. 
“Oh? That’s a good thing?”
“Depends on who you ask.”
“I’m asking you.” It’s too direct, Eddie hears it. And now it’s just Out There - his inability to flirt in a subtle way. And yeah, he could blame it on sleep deprivation, but he’s never been known for his mastery of ambiguity so…
The pause goes on long enough for the light to flicker again, the room growing darker with it. Steve takes a swig of his drink and smiles. “It’s good to know, Ed.”
The light flickers even darker.
Eddie is fully awake after that. Which could’ve been part of Steve’s plan - stimulate his brain with flirty comments and keep him up with those melty smiles. It’s no secret that Eddie turns into a hair-twirling loser around this guy. 
Even after living together for a year and seeing one another’s most disgusting habits, he still feels this way. Tight throat, stomach flips. Purely smitten in a way that would nauseate deadbeat poets.
In this moment, however, it’s a wonderful remedy to staying awake throughout the rest of the night. Much more effective than energy drinks and Tootsie Rolls.
Steve ends up on the floor, leaning against the edge of the couch. He sips another beer, recounting some bullshit that happened during his shift at the hotel. Eddie does his best impression of Listening to Steve’s stories, but the words are just buzzing around the glow of Steve’s hair and the shine on his lips. Nodding at seemingly appropriate times is all Eddie currently can offer.
“Sleeping with your eyes open, Munson?”
Eddie blinks hard. “Huh?”
“Creepy, but impressive.” Steve laughs, tapping his hand against Eddie’s leg. “You should add that to the Special Skills column on your resumé.”
“Bold of you to assume I have a resumé.”
They spend the next hour doing just that - adding useless skills to Eddie’s nonexistent resumé. It keeps them busy. Content. Steve smacks Eddie’s knee anytime he laughs, leaves his hand longer every time. Maybe that’s all in Eddie’s semi-dormant mind, especially since Steve shows casual affection to all of his friends. But the warmth of his palm is real enough to have Eddie fully committed to making Steve laugh as much as possible.
“What about… Expert Paper Clip Chain-Maker?” Steve suggests. 
Eddie stares at the chain in his hand, the one he was oblivious to creating. He whips it around like a lasso and then shrugs. “A bit wordy.”
“So you’re saying length matters?”
“Christ on toast, Harrington. You’re awfully quick to jump to that conclusion, aren’t you?”
Steve doesn’t answer, just starts laughing again. Eddie didn’t even need to tell a shitty joke this time. 
And when Steve’s hand hits his knee, sliding slightly up his thigh, Eddie laughs along with him. It’s the only way to cover up the heat rushing to his face.
Eddie enters the realm of delirium with three hours left in his challenge. He slumps onto the floor next to Steve, nudging his shoulder, staring into his sleep-heavy eyes. It’s four in the morning, inhibitions be damned.
“Do you think if you ever visit Europe, they’d call you Harring-metric-ton?” Eddie picks a piece of lint off Steve’s sleeve. Perfect excuse to reach out, move in closer.
Steve groans. “Yikes. But yes, that question keeps me up at night.”
“So that’s why you’re still awake. See, I knew it wasn’t because of my silly little concert tickets.” 
As soon as the words leave his lips, Eddie convinces himself that it’s the truth. Which is so dumb, so stupid. But this seed of insecurity keeps him going, fully projecting his assumptions onto Steve’s harmless comment. Somewhere deep down, buried underneath his exhaustion, Eddie knows it was a joke. But he can’t seem to shut up anymore.
“The riddle has been solved, folks! We finally know why Stevie here is still awake.” Eddie exclaims, flinging his arms out to the side. “Alert Scooby and the gang at once! Mystery Incorporated can finally pack up their magnifying glasses and pursue careers with better health insurance. Ones that covers vision costs this time. It’s what dear, ol' Velma deser-”
“Eddie.” Steve places a hand on Eddie’s arm, holding him still. Was he moving? Oh god, was he shaking? 
Fucking mortifying.
Steve’s thumb swipes across Eddie’s skin, tracing diagonal lines back and forth. “You’re rambling.”
“And you’re…” Eddie loses focus. He looks down at the hypnotic patterns that Steve is making. “There. Doing that.”
Steve stops briefly to flip Eddie’s hand over, starts tracing the lines in his palm instead. The pressure makes Eddie’s heart lurch up into his throat. He can feel it thumping in his neck, faster with every stroke of Steve’s fingers. All he wants to do is close his hand around them, keep Steve there for the rest of the night. Longer if he’d let him.
“I can stop if it’s weird.” Steve’s voice is so much quieter than it was earlier. 
Don’t stop. Eddie thinks. Can’t say it like that because gross. Humiliating and gross. “It’s not weird.”
Steve keeps his focus on the motion, Eddie does the same. They stay like this for a while, just watching. Intently staring over the invisible lines like pages in a novel. Eddie is pretty sure he’s breathing too loud, can hear it above the whistle in the air conditioner. Wonders if Steve can hear it too. 
Probably.
“That’s not why I’m staying awake.” Steve says, never breaking the pattern.
“No?”
“It’s who I’m staying awake for.”
Steve finally stops, right in the center of Eddie’s hand. The air in the room goes dense, weighted with acknowledgment. Something has changed and Eddie can feel it everywhere. 
He tilts forward, pulling his gaze away from his hand and up at Steve’s lips. If he weren’t stuck between half-awake and total-delirium, Eddie would just do it. Kiss Steve the way he’s always wanted to. Syrupy slow and deep. Savoring every second.
He could do it right now, right this second. But his focus starts drifting as he closes his eyes. “Did Chrissy tell you?” Eddie grumbles, almost unintelligible. 
“Tell me what?”
Eddie’s head falls, landing somewhere on Steve’s chest. He inhales the scent of laundry detergent (because Steve and Chrissy are the only avid laundry-doers in the apartment). It’s so soothing, drawing him further into a dreamlike place.
“Tell me what, Ed?”
“That I…” Eddie is nearly asleep before he can finish the thought. The confession:
‘That I’m crazy about you.’
Sunlight hits Eddie first, startles him so much that he jolts upward. Fully awake. It takes a few seconds of furiously rubbing his eyes before the dread kicks in. 
Morning.
It’s morning.
“Shit.”
Eddie fell asleep.
Steve fell asleep.
“Shitshitshit. So many shits!” He fumbles through the labyrinth of blankets and pillows around him, snatching his watch from the coffee table:
10:24 a.m.
“Goddamnit!”
Eddie sinks back down to the floor, clutching the phone that serves him no purpose anymore. All of those hours of waiting and calling for nothing. Even if general admission wasn’t already sold out, it’s not like Eddie could afford tickets on his own. He can barely keep up with his share of the rent. Chrissy had to cover for his grocery run last week and he still hasn’t paid her back.
It’s just so expected too - for him to fuck up like this. Always letting opportunities slip through the cracks, making careless mistakes. No one will be surprised that he failed at such a simple task like calling a fucking radio station.
Eddie sets the phone back on the table and cleans up the living room in a daze. Every now and then, he mutters under his breath about being a total moron. He stays relatively quiet for the most part though. No use in throwing a bitchfest while Steve is blissfully conked out three feet away.
Of course he looks good sleeping too, even in the midst of Eddie’s breakdown. Unfair.
Just before heading back to his room, Eddie hears that familiar door creak. Same one that always sets off Steve’s inner handyman tendencies. 
He looks back to see Chrissy padding towards him with a blanket wrapped around her. For someone who hasn’t had their mood-altering cup of coffee yet, she looks extremely pleased to see him. Maybe she knows about the fate of the concert tickets. Maybe this is an early-risers pity party.
Fucking yay.
“Chris, please don’t try to-”
His words are muffled by Chrissy throwing her arms (and blanket cape) around him. She’s so bouncy, the way she always gets with Robin whenever their favorite song comes on at the karaoke bar. He pats her on the back and clears his throat, still trying to piece together what this exchange could be about. However, Eddie is functioning on a few hours of sleep, so his cognitive skills are groggy at best.
She gives him one more squeeze and then looks up, positively gleaming. “I knew it! I knew it would finally happen!”
“That I’d screw up for the umpteenth time in my life? Gee thanks, Chris.” Eddie says.
“What are you talking about?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you and Steve!” She whisper-yells back.
Was she snooping on them last night? He wouldn’t put it past her, snoopiness is the foundation of their friendship. Well, whatever Chrissy thought she saw, she’s wrong. Sure, Steve and Eddie flirted, both letting some potentially mutual feelings slip out.
But it was all cut short by Eddie passing out mid-flirt. God knows how Steve took that reaction. Probably assumed Eddie was so bored that he would rather sleep than makeout with him. Or worse, that Eddie was pretending to sleep to let him down easy.
Christ, he doesn’t wanna think about that right now. Not while he’s still mourning the loss of his precious tickets.
“Hate to break it to you, honeyjam, but nothing happened.” Eddie shakes his head, gesturing to Steve who hasn’t budged from the recliner. “It’s just me over here and Steve over there. No conjunction connecting us together in that way.”
He can already tell Chrissy isn’t buying it. She’s getting that little forehead wrinkle right above her eyebrows, just like an angry cartoon character. Her best attempt at intimidation. “You didn’t see what I saw.” 
“Gay desperation?”
“No, you jackass. Come here!”
Chrissy yanks Eddie into his bedroom, demanding for him to lock the door. He listens, mainly because the intimidation is starting to work a little. They sit at the edge of the bed and she begins to explain everything she saw:
Steve constructing a wall of blankets and pillows around Eddie to ensure he slept comfortably. Steve waiting by the phone, tapping his foot in that insufferably cute way that Eddie loves so much. Steve scoring the tickets, celebrating quietly to himself.
“How long were you standing at the door, weirdo?” Eddie teases her to avoid the way his stomach is twisting around her words. 
Chrissy shushes him and squeals. “And he kissed your cheek!”
“Liar.”
“He did, I swear! He kissed you on the cheek or the chin or the nose. I don't know which one for sure because my view was obstructed by all of your hair.”
Eddie instinctively combs his fingers through a few strands, undoing the knotted pieces. Not all of them, but enough to keep his hands busy while he thinks through this. Processing. “And you’re sure it wasn’t a dream?”
“Positive.”
“What about a hallucination? Didn’t Byers make a batch of those infamous brownies again?”
Chrissy gives a deep sigh. “Whatever. You’re hopeless.” She shrugs the blanket back over her arms and heads toward the door. More than a fair assessment, Eddie can’t argue even if he wanted to (he always does). 
He stares at the line of posters along his wall, letting Chrissy’s words replay over and over. Imagining what it might have felt like. If Steve’s breath was warm or if his lips were soft. Eddie wonders how it looked to have Steve dipping down to his level. Staying so quiet, so careful not to disturb him. The visuals swarm his head until there’s nothing left but Steve. 
Him and Steve. Connecting them together in that way after all.
So, Eddie gets up and walks back into the living room. He takes in the view of Steve curled up in the recliner, mouth slightly parted open. Chest falling with every sniffle, not quite a snore.
There’s so many emotions while looking at him. Eddie can’t just pin one down to fully comprehend what's going on. All he can do is repeat the scene that’s occupying his mind, settling in his bones.
“Here,” he whispers, placing another blanket across Steve’s lap. It’s feathery gentle, more than he intends for it to be. So gentle that Steve doesn’t shift or stir. 
Eddie takes a deep breath and bends down, close enough to notice all the little details. The ones he’s been too sheepish to indulge in before last night. 
The tiny hairs on Steve’s forearm. The creases in his t-shirt. The bit of dried toothpaste on his chin. None of it should make his cheeks feel this flushed, but they do.
He lets the rush of bravery wash through him as he kisses Steve on the tip of his nose. Just the way Steve must’ve done to him. It’s swift, lighter than he means for it to be. Barely touching. But it’s enough to switch his heart rate up a few notches, pulsing jumping in his wrist.
Eddie steps away, waiting to see if Steve wakes up. Not entirely sure if he wants that or if he’d rather keep this memory to himself. 
“Thanks… by the way.” Eddie adds, brushing the tips of his fingers over Steve’s hand. Wishing he could trace the lines in his palm. Rewind back to last night and pause it there indefinitely. “I’ll tell you again when you’re up, but yeah.”
“Thank you, Steve Harrington.”
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zmb1eslut · 3 months
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I missed you.
Masterlist
ex-boyfriend!Luke Castellan x Aphrodite!reader
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summary: Reader doesn't know how to say no to Luke, so she runs away every time he tries to win her over.
warnings: soft makeout, smoking, reader goes non-verbal when nervous (but she pulls it off), I don't usually write narrative (I'm a casual poetry writer).
word count: 1,091
clarification: as a daughter of Aphrodite, people develop attraction towards reader after long eye-contact exposure, so she usually avoids it altogether.
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You thought it couldn't be true, the way his eyes still traced your every step that night. Like if a soft blow of unspoken whispers followed you like a shadow into the dancing ground. He was there. He was everywhere, pulling you from behind to clash just once more into his longing brown eyes.
You thought it couldn't be true.
Maybe your hopes were just blending into the air of that groaning old forest.
You sat down, as the last stars in the sky arrived fashionably late to the Aphrodite's secret reunion. A little self-conscious, you took your rolling paper out, losing yourself to the familiarity of your actions. You took your first blow, and while watching the smoke, at some point came the fifth. And then it became real, you didn't even bother to check, he was there. He was coming.
As if it was that easy, just like that, you felt his presence land by your side.
"Mind if I grab one?" he asked.
As he pretended not to be on the team that snuck that shit in in the first place, you pretended not to know he had already quit smoking 8 months ago. Every word was hard to say, you wouldn't waste any into empty accusations. As always, you let him have his way.
You broke the imaginary bounds that kept you from each other when your hand crossed the line with a lighter. He instead reached for your elbow, and his hands slowly moved up to your wrist, while he accomplished to move your hand away from both of you so it wouldn't be in between you two. He was silently begging for your eyes to simply look in his direction once more, you still tried to know better.
Your gaze fixed on his chest, the least dangerous place they could find that acknowledged his presence. He took the lighter, but your hand stayed there, hanging frozen. He blew the smoke on your face aiming at a reaction, and it felt like everyone disappeared behind the intimacy of the gas. But... you wouldn't be dragged into his world again. You stood up, and went away.
Every step was heavy. Once a lighthearted deared girl, and now a mess full questions and rage.
You've been treated like a temptress and like a whore, but it didn't quite prepared you to be treated like a princess who would never ascend to the throne. Left alone in a castle full of people, without love. He was always in battle, your knight in shining armor, who just breathed and crawled for a cause much grater than your sorrow. You guessed. He'd never tell. You never knew.
"How are the nightmares? " you dared, when your paths crossed again near the lake.
"Aw... You worried, angel? " was the safer answer, 'cause deflection was effective. You were always scared of being pushy, and had always been moved for a guy being scared. The breeze was chanting for you, while the silence simply dared you. You knew the dance. Your hands didn't wonder from his soft curls into his back, it was more proper to say that they knew the pathway back to back. Like if the traces of your fingers were already carved on his skin, just like another scar from battle, cause not to hold you felt like a war. And you surrender. just. once. more.
His head rests on your chest, and his sneaky hands have never feared but you feel them doubting, if traveling down your waist was way too gambly. And he dared. And you sunk.
"Don't look at me like that, Castellan" was everything you could think of. You were still resilient to bless him with your stare. But he felt powerful once again, and he was now sitting straight, gazing down at your glowing skin. And he dared. He slowly approached, and your posture played around, playing dumb. You tried not to laugh when he huffed.
It felt safe on his arms. It always did. And you knew inside, he knew where you were. In front of that lake, at a party like this one, he sat you on his lap in front of everyone, with your hand in his and kissed it every time he made you laugh. And when that night ended, it was just the start.
You left a hopeful sigh, and he caressed your side in response. You felt him again, closing the distance. You hide your face behind your hand as you decided to pull your hair behind your ear. He looks away, exasperated at your antics. Those were the reactions you liked.
Only him would make you this naive, but he was starting to doubt himself. He took his free hand to entrap you by each side, and looking at your lips, he shamelessly whispered —Can I kiss you? —and you knew you weren't playing anymore, and you realized that you truly wouldn't ever say no. That's why you always ran away. Your eyes looked up and lazed with the darkness of his pupils. Before you tangled on a desperate mess of brushes and silent pleadings. To your agony, his hand moved from touching your sensitive needs into a dominant hold from under your thigh. Your hands held into his collar and bicep. He pulled away and melted you with a smirk, got next to your ear and in a lower voice said "You are so irritating." You felt your legs go jelly as he chuckled. He kissed you again, you let it happen. You would let the moment swallow you whole, again into the warmth of his embrace. But you felt voices coming and you quickly went away.
Went away into the woods, your intentions becoming clearer and more humiliating with every lazy step you took. You heard hisnsteps as you knew you would. He found his way back to you. You looked up at him as your back pressed against a tree. And you never felt as excitingly frail before hearing his voice.
"Tell me, did you missed me?"
"I missed you, Luke."
He seemed satisfied, and pressed his body into yours. You could feel the way his shirt smelled like firewood, and his heartbeat raised for you. But all you could focus on was how needy made you feel the recognizable way his bulge pressed bravely against your crotch.
"Yeah... I missed you too."
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Carmilla (Le Fanu) & The Vampyr (Polidori)
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Starting off the new year right! I was incredibly blessed to spend 8 days in January in Athens, Greece, attending a leather bookbinding course taught by dimitris_bookbinding_corner alongside a lovely group of fellow @renegadepublishing members from around the world!
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Dimitris was a fantastic teacher, patiently dealing with all of our in-jokes, quips, and my bad habits (even if they made him cringe 😂). His teaching style satisfied my own thirst to know *why* you do something, not just that you're supposed to do it. Dimitris also challenged us to push outside of our comfort zones (I'm sorry guys before this every endband I ever sewed I opened up the book for every tie-down. yes, even all the ones in the last post.). I learned so much, and I hope to be able to put it into practice in the future. I highly recommend his classes!
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We bound a stunning Carmilla + The Vampyr combo typeset, created by fellow Renegade member @zhalfirin with art frames from Alphonse Mucha. I got a chance to work on leather and brass tooling skills in person (both things I was very nervous about!), repped Star Wars a lot, eat delicious Greek food and snacks, and best of all, the opportunity to spend a whole 8 days in Greece with the best group of people (and a whole lot of friendly cats!).
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angelltheninth · 8 months
Text
Taking Care of Workaholic Star Wars Men
Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Kanan Jarrus, Captain Rex, Kylo Ren, Hux x Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, kissing, cuddles, literal sleeping together, hint of an argument
A/N: I haven't done a post in this format for Star Wars for a long ass time.
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Obi-Wan doesn't have to tell you that he's tired, you can see it on his face when he gets home. He knows there's no shame in taking a break, sometimes it's necessary but at the same time he's not sure if he can afford one as a Jedi.
When he gets home the first thing you do is sit him down and massage his hands, one by one, feeling the blisters under his fingers from so many years of fighting. You know that he likes you touching him like that so you make it a point to do so every time you notice he's feeling stressed about how much work he has to get done still.
"It feels nice when you hold my hand like that. I remember I used to think they're too rough but you insisted otherwise. I feel very blessed to have you by my side you know. There's still much to do, tomorrow and the days after, but every day I get to relax with you. Makes the effort more then worth it."
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Kanan complains about being tired but he never does anything about it. He never takes a break unless it's very short ones in between missions you go on and it takes its tole on him. He tries not to let the crew notice but you do, you always notice.
When you pull him into a kiss to end the night he thinks you're gonna have a little bit of fun now that all the kids are sleeping. Not unless he gets sleep too, then you can think about it the next night. He never expected you to play that card on him. That feels a bit evil in his opinion but you call it a good strategy and taking care of your man.
"The kids are asleep, come here beautiful. Already pushing me on the bed? Someone wants it more then I thought. Why is the light off already? I remember your body but I'd still like to see you. We're not doing that tonight? I am a little tired but I can keep up. Are you really gonna play it like that? Lucky you that I love you so much."
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Rex works with almost no break at all. He's a soldier, he'll take a break when the war is over. Until then he has to stay alert, even when he's asleep he's not fully relaxed. His brain is constantly working, going through strategies, and the brothers he's lost.
Kissing him definitely helps take his mind off things for a while but it's not a perfect solution. Any rest he gets is a victory in your eyes though. There are times where he goes days without sleep on missions and then comes back home to you, collapsing against a wall from how tired he is. He lets his cute side show when he curls up against you in bed, taking deep breaths for the first time in a while.
"Sorry love, I'm feeling a little tired tonight. Promise... 'm gonna take you on a date tomorrow. Today? What ever time I wake up. Talk to me, what have you been up to while I was away. Oh. That sounds fun, we gotta try that together sometime."
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Kylo would rather die then admit he's been overworking himself. It's caused more then a few arguments between the two of you over the years and all of them end the same way, with angry, eventually soft kisses before you fall into bed together.
Since he won't take a break on his own you like visiting him on occasion. You don't tell him that it's a break, you asking him to walk with you a little, taking his mind off his duties for a while. During this time you hold his hand of course, much to a few laughs from the crew members. One grunt from him is enough to shut them up though.
"Another walk? Darling, I have more work to... you know what it does to me when you look at me like that. Keep it up and there won't me much walking for you. Only for a little bit. You sure do enjoy holding my hand don't you? You know that it makes everyone whisper about us. If it bothers you I can silence them."
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Hux unfortunately doesn't get to decide when he takes breaks. It's all set in stone by his orders, his schedule that he has to keep. It is exactly why both of you have grown very fond of any moments of rest you can get together.
He loves to rest his head in your lap after a long day, kissing your hand while you run your fingers across his face, his hair, his chest, but no lower because he really doesn't have the energy. That kind of stuff is usually reserved for early mornings or very quick stolen moments.
"Another long day today. I really do need me a vacation don't I? Where would you like to go? I'll take you anywhere you want, sweetheart. Hm, maybe a nice watery planet, or maybe some alone time in the mountains somewhere. It's be a long time since we had proper alone time with each other."
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roseghoul26 · 2 months
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Part 1
Arthur Morgan x f!Reader
"'Do you love me?' You asked, voice barely louder than a whisper.
Arthur nodded, gazing at you like you hung the moon and the stars.
'Then say it. I promise you, nothing bad is gonna come from it.'"
Synopsis: A retelling of the mission "Blessed are the Peacemakers", where instead of Arthur getting kiddnapped, it's you.
Tags: fluff, friends to lovers, eventual smut, smut, torture, mentions of sexual assault, no actual SA, dutch is father figure, so is hosea, arthur morgan deserves everything, fem reader, afab!reader, she/her pronouns used for reader, not beta read
part 1 ❉ part 2 ❉ part 3 ❉ part 4
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“C’mon, we’re heading out. And make sure you bring that rifle.”
Arthur’s voice caused you to look up from polishing said rifle, the freshly cleaned barrel glinting in the afternoon sun. Before you stood the cowboy, one hand resting casually on his gun belt, the other rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his. 
Narrowing your eyebrows, you stood, strapping the gun across your back. “You’re worried,” you stated, and you watched his movement halt. “Why?” 
“Dutch says… well how’d you know that? I ain’t even said anything yet.”
“You don’t need to say anything, cowboy. But that’s beside the point. Dutch says…?” You gestured for him to continue. 
You swore you heard him mutter something about you being a damn witch before he turned around, leading you to where the horses were hitched at the front of your camp. The new camp, Clemens Point, was starting to grow on you, even with all the bugs and coyotes around. The access to water was nice, and it was close enough to cities to not be a burden to go to, but far enough away from big populaces to live an outlaw lifestyle. As the two of you walked, Arthur began explaining the new plan that Dutch had roped you two into. 
“Pearson said he met some O’Driscolls, who claim Colm is willing to ‘negotiate peace’ with Dutch.” Arthur sounded as convinced as you felt.
“You’re kidding me.” 
“I swear to you. Don’t know what’s gonna come from it, but it’s a start.”
“You really believe Colm’ll just stop fighting Dutch?”
“Not really. But Micah got Dutch convinced he would, and crazier things have happened…” For the second time, you watched him rub the back of his neck. 
“You think it’s a trap, don’t you?” 
“I’d be a fool not to.”
By this time you had reached your horses, yours a large black and white war horse, his a brown Appaloosa.You went to go pick up your saddle which lay across the hitching post, but when your hands made contact with the leather, Arthur playfully swatted your hands away, picking the saddle up himself, heaving it up and over the horse with a light grunt. He had rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, allowing you to fully appreciate his muscular forearms as he lifted with ease.
“Hey-” you began, before getting silenced with a look from the cowboy. 
After quickly securing the saddle, he held out his hand expectantly, slightly tipping himself downward in a mock bow. A cheeky smirk adorned his face. “Your ride is ready, princess.”
“I ain’t no princess,” you scoffed, but you still took his hand gingerly, unable to stop a faint smile from growing on your own face, and you stepped into one of the stirrups, using Arthur's hand to help bring your body fully over the saddle. 
His hand still held yours as he responded. “No you ain’t,” his gaze, which was playful, turned into something fonder and gentler, a look you’ve seen him give you time and time again. “You’re something better.”
Leaning down until you were almost at eye level with him, you swore you felt him squeeze your hand ever so tighter, and you spoke low, slightly husky. “And what would that be, Arthur Morgan?”
His eyes widened, and you watched his eyes flick up and down your face, trying to determine if your flirtatious tone was a joke or not. A few seconds passed before he opened his mouth to respond. “You’re-”
“C’mon lovebirds! Hurry up!” Micah’s shouting broke whatever trance the two of you had been in, and you felt Arthur quickly drop your hand like it was scalding, stepping back to create an appropriate amount of space between the two of you. A light dusting of pink covered both of your faces, his blue eyes looking everywhere but you, and a quick scan of the camp told you that Micah wasn’t the only one watching the two of you: Javier and Charles shared a look, the hunter laughing gently as the other shook his head; Tilly and Mary-Beth were furiously whispering to each other, glancing over at the two of you every other second.
Clearing your throat, you straightened back up, urging your horse forward as Arthur mounted his, catching up to Micah and Dutch who sat waiting at the entrance to camp. A few seconds later you heard Arthur approach, settling at your right side. “Ready?” Dutch asked, turning and leaving once receiving nods from you and the others. Following suit with Dutch and Micah in the lead, you settled in for the ride. 
Glancing over to the cowboy to your right, you watched him chat with Dutch, not paying attention to the conversation as you took in the man who has plagued every thought in your brain for the last two years. It was no secret you were head-over-heels for Arthur; you had been for at least the past two years. The two of you had been friends for at least four years at this point, becoming close when you joined the gang after a partially-successful pickpocket attempt against Dutch (you had managed to snag his gold pocket watch, but were subsequently caught a few minutes later once he realized). Despite that, he had offered you a place with the gang. You accepted, partially because you needed money, a place to sleep, and could possibly make friends, but you also joined because you finally had a place to put your niche talents to use. 
Arthur and you became close quickly, and you worked together well, meaning you were often sent out together for jobs. It was a platonic relationship, but the two of you always danced the line of platonic and romantic, flirty remarks being tossed around wildly. It wasn’t until the last year or two where you felt yourself start to actually fall in love with the cowboy, and the flirting wasn’t helping. It was the age old tale of falling for your best friend, and feeling too afraid to say anything in case it wasn’t reciprocated, possibly ruining said friendship. 
It wasn’t hard to fall for him. For all the hard front he puts up, he has a kind heart, going out of his way to help folks (he usually preferred when a reward was offered, but would do things begrudgingly if none was presented). He was loyal, staying by Dutch’s side through thick and thin, and had humor drier than a desert. And he wasn’t bad on the eyes either, a thinker body built from years of labor, skin tanned and scars from years in the wild and sun. Eyes bluer than the ocean, you found yourself always drowning in their depths. 
You hadn’t realized you had been staring at him until you heard him say your name, slightly loud, as if he had been trying to get your attention for a bit. He laughed, “I asked, ‘he treating you well?’” 
When you gave him a confused look, he pointed downwards to your horse, which Arthur had bought for you a few weeks ago after your previous horse was shot by some Lemoyne Raiders. “He is,” you stroked his mane affectionately, earning you a content huff from the beast. “Thank you again, Arthur.”
“It’s nothing, really. You named him yet?”
“I have. You ever read Charles Dickens?” 
“Ain’t much of a reader,” he responded. 
“His name is Tiny Tim, from A Cristmas Carol. My mom would read it every year ‘round Christmas time.”
“Tiny Tim? There ain’t nothing tiny ‘bout that beast!”
“That’s what’s funny!” You laughed, and Arthur just shook his head, trying and failing to hide his own laughter. 
“Yer cute,” he said, nonchalantly, like he had no idea he was actually saying it. You just stared at him, caught off guard by his seemingly very genuine statement. Now it was his turn to be confused, and he cocked his head to side, glancing at you quizzically. 
Dutch’s voice had snapped your gazes back forward, meeting his eyes as he turned to talk. “You know, I’ve been fighting Colm for so long now… I can barely remember a time when it was different.”
The man to your right finally looked away from you, his expression harding as he responded. “And you’re still fighting him now, make no mistake of that.”
“Here he goes…” Micah began. “Doubting Thomas… is there any plan you ain’t sour on?”
“Maybe you’re right. I’m just nervous. Let’s not waste any more lives needlessly.”
“I ain’t costing lives here… I’m saving them. What did you say, we had Pinkertons coming after us?”
“Because of Blackwater,” you chimed in. 
Micah continued, “And Leviticus Cornwall and his private army! Then… who knows when this local hillbilly thing will come to a head, hm? Can we really afford to be fighting on all these fronts, and O’Driscoll?”
The group was silent for a moment, all chewing on the words spoken by the blonde man. 
“There is wisdom in that,” Dutch finally said. 
“For once,” you muttered, thinking you were unheard until you heard a chuckle from your right. 
“Oh, I hope so, gentlemen, but… like I said, I’m nervous.”
“Yeah, me too,” you added. “Feels too good to be true.”
Now it was Micah’s turn to shift around his saddle to face you. “Look, you ain’t even going to be the one in danger… we’ll get on over there… find a nice perch for you to settle your pretty self into… you got that rifle, don’t you?”
Choosing to ignore that one particular comment of his, you tapped the strap across the shoulder that held your rolling block rifle, one of your most prized possessions. “Never leave without it,” you said, failing to notice the way that Arthur glared daggers into Micah, who continued talking.
“Then me, Dutch, and Arthur walk right into the lion’s den, with you to cover us.”
“Just stay calm, unless I give you a reason not to,” you said, a growing tension building inside you.
Dutch gave you a reassuring smile.“Oh, we’ll be fine. We’ve got you.”
“I will do my best.”
“Oh, my dear, with you watching over me, I would walk into hell itself.”
“As would I,” Micah added. 
You weren’t doubtful of your abilities as a sharpshooter, but the praise coming from the man you respected, and Micah, helped bolster your confidence, and you felt yourself sitting up straighter as you rode. “You don’t need me to tell you how great you are,” Arthur said, pausing a moment before continuing. “But I’m gonna anyway. I would go anywhere if I knew you was watching over me.”
“Now y’all are putting too much pressure on me,” you joked, trying to clear the comforting ache in your chest from Arthur’s words. “Gonna give me performance anxiety.”
“Arthur knows a thing or two ‘bout that!” 
“Micah, I swear-” he growled, and you and Dutch shared glances before breaking into laughter, the tension building up with the upcoming meeting dissipating momentarily. 
The next few minutes of riding were in comfortable silence, before Micah halted suddenly as you reached the base of the hills, the rest of you skidding to a halt behind him. “Hey, up there, men on the ridge.” 
Glancing up, you indeed saw four men atop the ridge, all four on horses, looking down on your group. You watched Dutch place a hand on his gun, already ready for things to go wrong. “O’Driscolls, from the look of them.”
“I don’t like having eyes on us.” Arthur grumbled. 
“We’re close,” Micah pointed to you. “You’ll be the eyes soon enough.”
Nodding, you swung your rifle around so it sat in your hands. “Let’s go.”
The group started back up again, riding around and up the hill. That previously dissipated tension was back, and you saw the way that Arthur’s jaw clenched as he rode. “Maybe he’s right, Dutch. Maybe I have pushed too hard. Got us into situations that… could have been safer. I just… I see all these mouths we got to feed, and I… I dream too big. Caring too much, that’s my problem.”
“The hell you on about, Micah?” You asked, Arthur nodding in agreement. The men in front both ignored you.
“Caring too much?” Dutch scoffed. “There’s no such thing.”
After giving you a look that screamed confusion, Arthur exclaimed “This is horse shit. From both of you!”
“It might be! Micah might be full of shit. Colm O’Driscoll might be full of shit. The promise of this great nation, men create equal, liberty and justice for all… that might be nonsense too. But it’s worth trying for. It’s worth believing in. Can’t you see that, friend?”
“I don’t know.”
“Try. All I ask is you try.”
Finally reaching your destination, you all halted again, and you watched Micah turn around so he was face-to-face with you. “Alright, princess,” he looked directly at Arthur, jesting at the earlier interaction he interrupted, before looking back to you. “You’re gonna peel off up ahead. We’ll be meeting down on the plane. Find a spot just above us where you can keep an eye on things.”
“Alright, alright.” You responded, getting ready to leave before Arthur stopped you.
“However this shakes out, let’s aim to meet back at the fork in the road afterwards.”
“Got it. Behave yourselves, boys.” 
“Yes, ma’am,” you heard Dutch respond before him and Micah took off toward the plane. Again, you turned to leave, but you heard your name leave Arthur’s mouth. 
Glancing at him, you gave him an easy smile, before chuckling lightly. “Better get going cowboy. They’re gonna start without you.”
Your laugh died in your throat as you saw a rather serious Arthur before you, an almost desperate look in his eyes. “Be careful.” He inhaled shakily. “Please.”
“I- I will,” your answer sounded more like a question. “But it’s not me you should be worried about. I’m not going into the ‘lion’s den’, as Micah put it. I’ll be fine.”
“Just promise me if things go wrong, you’ll get the hell out of here.”
“You know I can’t promise that. But for you, I’ll certainly try.”
Knowing that was the best he was going to get from you, he just shook his head, and began to make his way toward the others. “I’ll see ya later, princess.” 
Turning so he couldn’t see your flustered state, you waved him away, laughing as you heard Micah shout hurry up, loverboy. Reaching the top of the hill, you dismounted, hitching your horse to a nearby dead tree, and as crouched at the edge, you watched through the scope of your rifle as the men waited for the O’Driscolls to arrive. 
─•~❉᯽❉~•─
You should’ve known something was wrong when you only saw three men on the plane. 
It wasn’t the fact that one of these men was Colm himself, nor was it the fact that each of these men were armed and dangerous, ready to fire at a single wrong move from Dutch. With you watching from above, and Micah and Arthur both backing Dutch from behind, you had no doubt which side would win in a shootout. 
No, it was the fact that you remembered there being four O’Driscolls waiting atop the hill as you all approached.
At the time, as you crouched on your perch, keeping eye on the “negotiation” happening between the two gangs, you hadn’t been worried, figuring they had a person on watch as well. You should’ve looked a little harder, could’ve scanned the nearby hills and see that the fourth O’Driscoll was nowhere to be found. Maybe if you’d have done this, you wouldn’t be hung upside down in Colm’s basement, a nasty gunshot wound in your left shoulder.
The footsteps had approached quickly, and the butt of the rifle was even quicker, striking you across the face with a sickening crack. Everything went black, and you barely remember waking up strung across the back of a horse for a few moments before falling back into unconsciousness. 
You remember waking up again, and you were able to escape for a moment before one O’Driscoll was able to get you with a rope, causing you to eat shit, your head slamming against the forest floor. They had laughed to each other, before one of them held their gun up to your shoulder, an agonizing blast and a flash of white light the last thing you saw before darkness took over again. 
Now here you were, strung upside down, the blood currently rushing to your brain making it pound harder. Everything hurts, the small puddle of blood beneath you indicative of the state of your body. You’d lost track of how long you’d been here; everything became a blur after the first day. 
Colm had yet to make an appearance, his men being the ones to torture you. It was the same few men each time. They alternated from keeping you upside down to having you tied down to a chair, to having you hanging by chains that pulled at your shoulder, aggravating your wounds even further. But they never asked many questions, instead finding their answers in their knives and pokers that they carved into your flesh.
Day after day you searched for means of escape, coming up fruitless each time; his men were surprisingly well trained, making sure to not leave anything in range of you that could be used as a tool or weapon. 
However, they wanted you alive, for whatever reason. Crude first aid had been applied to your wounds, preventing infection and disease from killing you off, but the one at your shoulder continued to be the worse. Occasionally they would give you water and stale food, messily hand fed by one of the men. Despite that, every time you heard the cellar door open, you waited with bated breath for the final blow, but it never came.
The cellar they kept you in was small, musty, and lit by a single candle on a table to your right, just out of reach from where you hung. A few scraps of cloth lay on the table, covered in crimson, and a single chair sat tucked in the corner, also covered in blood. 
Trying to find any sort of comfort, you tried sitting up a bit, your abs screaming out as you managed to lift yourself up a few inches, and some of the blood returned to the rest of your body. Dizzy, you shut your eyes, letting yourself flop back down, the chains creaking above you. 
The chains were so loud that you almost failed to hear the squeak of the cellar doors opening, heavy footsteps coming closer and closer to you. Opening one of your eyes, you saw an unfamiliar silhouette approaching, until you heard him speak your name. “It’s good to see ya.” He said, stepping fully into the cellar, the candlelight allowing you to see him fully.
“Hello, Colm,” your voice was hoarse from screaming, and you watched the greasy man step closer, a plate of food in one hand, some kind of utensil in the other. Finally opening both eyes, you  watched him place his things down on the table, the clatter of the plate barely audible over your own heartbeat. You must’ve blacked out for a moment, because before you knew it a bolt of pain tore through your body and you cried out, Colm stepping back from you after pressing his hand hard into your shoulder. 
He sneered down at you, grimy yellow teeth flashing. “How’s the wound?”
Gritting your teeth, you stared down the leader of the O’Driscolls with as much venom as you could muster, willing back the tears of pain. “Can’t feel it.”
“Whatever makes ya feel better,” he stalked over to his food, turning his back to you as he ate. “ Now, tell me…” he spoke through mouthfuls of food, “fine gun like you… why you still running around with old Dutch? Could come ride with me and make real money.”
“You know it ain’t about the money, Colm.”
“That’s right… it’s Dutch’s famous charisma.” In a blur of movement, his food forgotten, he kicked you square in the chest, knocking the wind out of you. Your body swung from the chains, which groaned and creaked at the movement. All you could let out was a soft wheeze, your vision going double. “You killed a whole punch of my boys… at Six Point Cabin.”
So why haven’t you killed me yet? You smirked, at least the best you could, your teeth stained red, lip splitting. “One of your own took us there. Bastards had it comin’.”
The click of a gun and the feeling of cold metal against your head made your wish you kept your mouth shut. The final blow was coming at the hands of Colm. Trying to swallow, your throat too dry to do so, you put on a brave face, even though internally you were terrified. There was so much you had left to do, so much left to tell. This wasn’t where your story ended, right?
Closing your eyes, you tried to take deep breaths, fighting down the panic bubbling inside. Do not show him you’re afraid, you thought. Don’t give him the satisfaction of you being afraid in your last moments. 
And you waited.
And waited.
You waited until you felt the barrel of the gun slowly pull away, and your eyes shot open, confused. “Yer lucky I need you alive,” Colm snarled, striking you across the face before returning his pistol to its holster, running a hand over his face while circling your body like a vulture. “Law want’s ya alive. All of ya.”
“Best of luck with that, sayin’ you only got one of us.”
“For now.”
“You planning on raiding us?” Colm didn’t respond. “You can tell me. Not leaving here soon anyway.”
“Nah,” Colm began. “Ain’t gotta go to that much trouble to round you up. We lure an angry Arthur in to rescue ya… Dutch and the others following… and  grab all of ya and hand ya in… then disappear.”
“So you only met with them to grab me?”
“Of course…” Colm chuckled. “He’s gonna be so mad. He gonna come raging over here… and a whole lot of ya… and the law’ll be waiting for him.” Sighing, he crouched down before you, his rancid breath overwhelming your senses. “Oh, I missed you.”
The first strike went to your gut. 
The second went to your bad shoulder. 
The third and final strike landed at your nose, blood spraying from the impact. 
Groaning, you felt the warm liquid streaming from your nose, joining the puddle beneath you with a soft drip, drip, drip. Colm stood up, grabbing his plate with a huff, shaking out one of hands, his knuckles slightly busted from the strikes. He didn’t say anything as he left, stomping up the stairs loudly, the door slamming shut behind him.
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, a newfound sense of urgency to escape coming over you, needing to stop Colm’s plan from coming to fruition. Glancing around, you looked again for something to help you escape. Unlike all the other times, however, something caught your eye on the table; whatever utensil Colm had brought down sat there, glinting gently in the light. Luckily for you, it seemed like Colm wasn’t as well trained as his men.
Slowly, you began to rock yourself back and forth, trying to build up enough momentum to reach it. Holding back noises of pain, you rocked, getting closer and closer with every swing, your fingers straining and you reached, and stretched, until finally it was in your grasp. You nearly cried with relief, and after glancing at the utensil in your hand, which was a two-pronged fork, you ceased your swinging, eventually coming to a full stop. 
Hands shaking, using whatever scrap of strength you had left in your hands, you bent on of the prongs forward, creating a lockpick like instrument. Now it was time for the hard part, which was trying to reach the padlock that held the shackles around your feet, connecting you to the chains. 
Every muscle in your body was begging you to stop, shaking as you slowly started to sit up, your core working overtime to get you up. All you had to do was just reach and disengage the lock. It took a few tries until you were finally able to get it in, and then-
Click. 
You didn’t have any tie to brace yourself before you made contact with the floor, going face first into your own blood pool. Rolling on to your back, you let the world stop spinning before sitting up, glancing worriedly at the cellar door to see if anyone heard your commotion.
After no one barged in after a few moments, you began to stand up, your knees giving out as soon as you were upright. Stumbling, you practically fell into the table, nearly knocking over the candle in the process. Your arms were outstretched in front of you, bracing yourself against the table, and you saw a few droplets of blood from your nose hit the wood. Grimacing, you snatched a bloodied cloth from nearby, tearing a small amount off to block off the blood flow. 
It was at this point that you really started feeling the gunshot wound in your shoulder. After a quick assessment, you realized it was still an open wound, but it was a clean shot, meaning you wouldn’t have to dig the bullet out of you. Eying both the metal fork in your hand and the candle on the table, you mentally steeled yourself for what you were about to do. 
Dragging the chair up next to you and sitting, you heated up the metal instrument until it almost glowed, then before you could lose your nerve, you pressed it to the wound.
It wasn’t the pain that hit you first; it was the smell, which would forever be engraved in your mind. But after you clocked the smell, the pain hit you like a tidal wave. You couldn’t tell if you were screaming or not, but you continued to hold the device, waiting until you couldn’t see blood spurt out at every beat of your heart. 
Groaning, you slumped your head on the table, feeling exhausted after putting yourself through that, but you had only a few seconds to recover before you heard the door open again. Turns out your cries were very much audible. 
Pressing yourself against the wall, you heard someone begin to come down the stairs. “Hold on, I’ll be back in a minute,” you heard the stranger say. You recognized the voice; it was one of the torturers. 
The man stood at the base of the stairs, dumbfounded, as he took in the empty shackles before him. “What the hell-” That was all he was able to get out before you pounced, the tool finding a home in his throat, and he crumpled to the floor, a small gurgling leaving him before he stilled. The man, unfortunately, was only armed with a knife, which you grabbed, holding it out defensively in front of you as you climbed the stairs. You had to move; it wouldn’t be long until his friends started looking for him. 
You had almost reached the exit before two shadows approaching halted your movement, and you pressed yourself against the wall, trying to make yourself as small as possible. Two men approached, neither of which you recognized. They were chatting as they patrolled, not really paying attention to their surroundings as they patrolled. A few tense minutes later, the figures retreated, and you dashed out as quickly as you could.
Taking in a breath of fresh air, you took in your surroundings: the two guards were to your left, their backs to you; a small shack was in front of you, and you saw some guns lying out; to your right you saw a horse hitching post, and you thanked the unseen forces of the universe that your horse was here; surrounding you were multiple houses, all you presumed were filled with O’Driscolls. 
First, you needed a weapon. Then, you were getting the hell out of here.
Moving as quietly and quickly as you could, you kept low, keeping an eye out for any other O’Driscolls. Entering the small wood shack, you grabbed the first gun you saw, and you almost left before you saw a very familiar engraved barrel out the corner of your eye. There, sitting in a wooden crate were your weapons, including your prized rifle. 
Swinging it over your shoulder, and securing your gun belt across your waist, you were actually starting to feel hopeful about your chances of survival. Keeping your stolen knife and your pistol out, you poked your head out the door, looking for any guards before taking off toward your horse, still trying to keep hidden.
Once you were close to the horses, you made your presence known, not wanting to spook them. Approaching your mount, you muttered softly, rubbing his neck affectionately. Immediately his eyes flew open, and he began rearing until he realized it was just you.
“You have no idea how good it is to see you, boy.”
Something told you he felt the same. 
“Let’s go home.”
You were partially up your horse when you heard a commotion behind you. Whipping your head around, you saw a few O’Driscolls emerge from the various houses, guns out and pointed at you, shouting at you and each other. You had just managed to get on before the shots started going off, bullets whizzing past you as Tiny Tim took off like a bat out of hell, hooves barely hitting the ground as you soared across the plane. 
You could barely make out anything around you, everything a blur as the wind whipped across your battered body, relishing the feel of fresh air before hearing footsteps behind you. Glancing behind, you saw four O’Driscolls in pursuit, firing wildly in an attempt to stop you. 
Aiming behind you, you took a deep breath in, stilling yourself to the best of your ability, taking in each of your targets before squeezing the trigger.
In rapid succession, each man took a bullet to the chest, either stopping them or causing them to go flying off their horse. Within moments your pursuers were gone, leaving only you standing. After hearing no more shouting or hoofbeats, you figured it was safe to holster your weapon. Tiny Tim had slowed down some, a quick trot instead of a full out gallop. 
The adrenaline from the last ten minutes was beginning to fade, your drooping eyes evident of your waning energy. Leaving forward, you leaned forward as best you could in your saddle, your arms wrapping loosely around your horses next for some security.
“C’mon TT, get us home.” You whispered, before your eyes closed at their own volition, your thoughts only of Arthur as you slept.
276 notes · View notes
the-moon-files · 3 months
Text
The Chain being Down Bad🐕‍🦺™️ for Your Voice lol (Masc!Reader)
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(Content under ✄----- )
@peepthatbish once again, our lovely muse peep (name twins!!) Has come to bless me, and hopefully i did that gorgeous idea justice, and dw im not done writing them all out yet :)
<333
Sun: Masculine Reader (he/him)
Orbit: Headcanons-ish
Stars: a dash of everybody <3
(except rare ones like Fierce/Koridai/Courage/Sage/etc.)
Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: fluff & Trigger Warnings: none known.
Please comment if i missed any. /gen
Ok but like
Ur voice is absolutely iconic to them
(Like the fairy fountain theme or the appearance of the Master sword, its unimaginable to them for your to not sound like that)
And its not only the heroes of Hyrule, but anyone else who could hear you
Well it helps that it used to be ur only sort of external sign of presence to outsiders
(the Links could also somewhat "feel" you in their own chests sometimes, like when u were stressed over a boss, or sad over a cutscene)
The only others who usually hear you are mostly things like the Great Fairies, the Deku Tree, other weird ass beings that know way too much (Fierce Deity)
So needless to say, when u first crash landed thru a portal into Wild's Hyrule (ur latest Zelda game you've played u guess thats why)
And the Chain had seen u in the distance, met up with you to try and help what they thought was some poor guy who accidentally fell thru Hylia's portals
But as they heard u stutter thru an introduction, instead they knew immediately it was you
Sky and Twi seriously teared up, Hyrule/Wild/Four/Wind all attacked you with a hug and excited shrieking, Legend and Wars were just gaping in shock, and Time was just staring at you
It took you a minute to pinpoint who was from what game, but as soon as you figured it out u literally jaw dropped at Time/Wild/Twi/etc.
(The ones that look different from their in game model or way better irl than graphics could ever capture)
U also may have screamed. A very manly scream. Not high pitched at all. You didnt make Legend cover his ears or the four that tackled u scramble off in fear, what- haha
(U cant blame urself, u were in literal shock, bc that's ALL the LINKS??!! Like u needed a shock blanket like rescue/ambulances gives ppl)
After calming down, it wasnt even an outright discussion or decision u could rlly choose,
They were basically kidnapping u along for the ride, also u were there for them (in pretty voice alone but still) for all their adventures,
So u even suggesting leaving u behind bc u couldnt keep up as well as them had them looking at you like they never even considered it
(And also making them individually go thru the 5 stages of grief: 😨😟😡😭🥺🙏🙏 they were all outright begging u, in their own ways, deadass by the end of it)
So as u travel, you get to understand the full impact of Your Voice, or the Guide's Voice™️.
If anyone has a nightmare, what would normally take another hero poking them with a stick and dodging the reflex punch, or them waking up unable to go back to sleep after having the nightmare, etc.
U quickly realized only took you talking to comfort them, with no reflex punch when they woke up, if they woke up, sometimes u were so good at it the nightmare just cleared ended according to their face
In your first battle against the shadow, along with lots of black-blooded monsters, u realized how much more confidently every Link fought as soon as you were speaking from behind them
They got even better and less stressed abt fighting when u managed to crack a few jokes or go toe to toe verbally with the Shadow lol
Legend outright guffawed when you pulled a dumb "sigh... well i guess... maybe... ur mom." joke in response to his villain monologue, like wiping a tear and everything, saying "u used to say that all the time after dumb long evil speeches, its a fucking classic" 💀
Literally will have them asking you to make more jokes bc it makes them feel better in tense situations/battles (most to least frequently: Sky, Wild, Hyrule, Wind, Twi, Time, Wars, Legend, Four) but they love it equally
Okay but,
U have Definitely. Sent chills down their spines when u get into lower ranges lol
U dont understand why everyone needs to talk to you so bad first thing in the morning,
or alternatively why they keep wanting you to go on a rant abt ur fav book/tv show/thing either???
U are always the last for story time at the campfire every night, and unlike the others, they refuse to let you take a night off, u have to say smth every night??
It amazes u they like ur voice so much, huh, Wild/Twi/Wars/Four/Hyrule must all be getting a little too close to the fire, theyre faces are looking a little red/pink
(Legend and Time just look rlly pleased/happy to be here, they only ever look a little overheated when u specifically look at them while ur talking/or tell a story abt them, and they usually are always the ones asking u another question to prompt u to keep going forever)
Wars may or may not have a life changing moment he told u abt ur voice on his adventures where Cia was like, "Ah Link... let me get a good look at you..."
Link: 😰🤢🥲
You: "... and girl, I am only looking at your tiddies right now."
If Wars had smth to drink right then he wouldve spit-taked.
It was like the one time he was caught so genuinely off-guard, and u just made him suddenly feel 10x more comfortable facing her, he literally couldnt keep his knight trained composure together, he had to lean on his knees he was crying with laughter
That was the first Cia heard of you too and she literally audibly gasped lmao
It was like all of a sudden Wars and Cia had been in on a joke no one else could hear around them (Shiek/Zelda is confused to this day by that)
And there are countless moments like this from each of their adventures where u did this, u cant help but feel mildly embarassed when u hear it at first
But then seeing how much ur voice and comments meant to them and how happy it made them u can help but want to talk more and more and more
Youve never felt more comfortable talking to this many people in ur entire life,
Bc u can literally see their elf ears twitching cutely when they pick up ur voice
BEST BELIEEEVVEEEE
u arent getting out of singing to them.
Yeah, sorry, theyve heard u sing ur fav songs while gaming too many times, they need to hear u sing irl, Now.
Most of them ignore or sort of passively enjoy bards/musicians on their journeys, but as soon as u so much as hum-
Its like they're all clambering to get closer to hear u, but also not make u aware thats what theyre doing, so they end up just:
Four/Legend/Hyrule trying to hide behind various (upside down) books, behind plants that're not that bushy, or one memorable time, when u sang "Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy" quietly to urself, a bard's tune got close and reminded u of it,
and Four fully threw his hammer on his toes bc he was so shocked/lovestruck, he completely missed the anvil and just threw it at the ground/his feet LMAO
Time and Wars, cheeky strategists they are, immediately fall back behind u wherever u are, so u cant see them, but they can still hear u lol
(Theyre the only ones youve not caught actively listening/straining to come closer to hear u... bc theyre behind u lol)
Wild/Sky/Twi all fully whip their heads around fast enough to crack it, then clumsily try to recover so u wont stop
Wild/Sky just fully accidentally like fall into lakes/ponds trying to stay just out of range or even (they both tried it once, and never again after u got onto them) got on a rooftop
And fell. When u got quieter they tried to get closer and- yep.
(Idiots were fine and smiling when u came to check on them)
Twilight.
Twilight's the worst ngl.
Just fully stares in awe at you until u stop out of embarassment, and has had the audacity multiple times to pop up as Wolfie and just happily listen like you havent also been thru the adventure that literally made him a werewolf
Wind is a cutie, he always joins in, esp when he recognizes the song, and since they can somehow remember the songs u sang while gaming, it will never not be a core memory for you to sing "Drunken Sailor" back to back with "I LOVE YOU HOE" by ODETARI (ft.9lives)
with Wind Waker Link.
You nearly died when you heard him singing the chorus, like literally right after drunken sailor 💀
(Its catchy u got it stuck in ur head from tiktok audios)
(Wind absolutely makes fun of the others for being in love with ur voice, like he'll trick u into ranting abt smth late at night when ur voice is husky or ur just low energy atm, and then from behind you just mouth at the rest of them, sitting looking up at you like ur an angel,
G A Y Y Y Y 🫵🫵🫵 )
Sorry to anyone whose sent in stuff to my mailbox! I promise ill answer u tomorrow!!
Im acc running another blog for a diff fandom and i got busy today :/
BUT THANK U SM AND I LOVE YOU TO ANYONE WHO SENT STUFF IN !! <3333
Like, i would write a fic for u tysm for showing me ur interest bc it feels like tumbleweeds are blowing thru LU fandom when i check the tags 💀
Which isnt awful! I just like hearing feedback from ppl or just talking abt LU and stuff :)
Peace out,
🌙
187 notes · View notes
matan4il · 3 months
Text
Daily update post:
The IDF's spokesman in Arabic, Avichay Adraee, has shared a vid of a rare demonstration by Gazans, where they protest the ruin Hamas has brought on them, and demand for its leader in Gaza, Yahya Sinwar, to releaste the Israeli hostages.
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Regarding the 24 Israeli soldiers killed in Gaza the other day, here are the details to the best of my understanding of how 21 of them were killed in one incident (based on reports on Israeli TV). It seems that the soldiers were preparing a couple of multi-floor buildings to be blown up, because these were close enough to the border, that snipers could use them to shoot at Israeli civilians without even crossing over. The soldiers were laying out the explosives, and there was a tank nearby, guarding them. A terrorist squad came out of a terror tunnel shaft that hadn't been located by the soldiers earlier, and fired an anti-tank missile at the buildings, triggering the explosives, which also caused the buildings to collapse. Every soldier who was inside, was killed. That was how 19 soldiers died. It took hours for a search and rescue team to retrieve their bodies from the rubble (including a group of fire fighters who had to be "drafted" in order to allow them into Gaza). The tank recognized the source of the fire, and was turning to shoot back at the terrorists, but they fired an additional anti-tank missile at it, and killed another 2 soldiers. Out of the 24 soldiers killed, 16 were already buried yesterday.
One of them was 35 years old Elkana Wiesel.
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He left a last letter to his loved ones: "If you're reading these words, something must have happened to me. First of all, if I have been kidnapped, I demand that you do not release a single terrorist to free me. Our decisive victory is more important than anything else to ensure our safety, so please keep going full force to make our victory as decisive as possible. Maybe I fell in battle. When a soldier falls in battle, that's sad. But I'm asking you to be happy. Don't be sad when you say goodbye to me. Sing a lot, nourish each other's hearts, hold each other's hands and strengthen each other. We have so much to be proud and joyful over, we are a generation of salvation! We are writing the most meaningful moments in the history of our people and of the world. So please, be optimistic. Keep choosing life, all the time. A life of love, hope, purity and optimism. Look into the eyes of the people you hold dearest, and remind them that everything we're going through in this life is worth it. That they have a lot to live for. Live! Do not stop the powerfulness of life for a single minute! I was already injured during [Operation] Protective Edge. I had the choice to stay back. But I do not regret for a moment that I returned to being a fighter. On the contrary, this is the best decision I've ever made."
May their memories be a blessing.
A report from South African news site News24 claims the International Court of Justice will publish its decision on SA's request for 9 provisional measures regarding the war in Gaza this Friday (Jan 26). Israel says it has not received any official notification on this. In any case, the ICJ will be publishing its decision by Feb 6 at the latest, because that's when the time of several judges at the ICJ will come to an end.
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For the second time this month, Israel has stopped Arabs from East Jerusalem, who identify as ISIS terrorists, from carrying out an attack against Israelis. Another terrorist attack was prevented from taking place yesterday, when the terrorist was eliminated
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This is 19 years old Shay Levinson.
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He was a star volleyball player, who believed in coexistence, was studying Arabic, and chose to play for the Arab team of a Christian Arab town situated close to his own. Here he is (standing third from the left) with his Arab team when they won the state championship:
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Shay was believed to have been kidnapped to Gaza on Oct 7. Here are his Arab coach and team manager with his mom Shlomit Levinson (a volleyball player herself), holding up his hostage poster together:
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It was confirmed the other day that Shay was murdered by Hamas on Oct 7, and his body had been kidnapped to Gaza, and is held hostage. His coach Sma'an said: "It's a very hard blow. This is a kid who was a part of our family. Our heart hurts. We're not functioning as a team. We're unfocused, we can't concentrate, training sessions have been canceled. We want to be by the family during these difficult days. We champion coexistence, sports brings hearts closer. Our language is common. We don't care about distinctions like Jews, Arabs, Christians, Muslims."
May his memory be a blessing.
(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)
208 notes · View notes
tonberry-yoda · 1 year
Text
Hopeful - Ramattra
Pairing - Ramattra x reader
Warnings - too much fluff frrrr
Word Count - 3,937
Notes - this fic was inspired by this post by @lady-shimada!! i am super thankful to them for allowing me to write this wonderful idea because I absolutely love how this turned out!! this is one of my longest fics yet and I cannot express how fun this was to write!! thank you again @lady-shimada and I really hope you enjoy it!!! Have a great rest of your day/night everyone and please stay hydrated!!! <3333
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You wiped the sweat off of your forehead and smiled at your work. "Does that feel better?" You asked the omnic who's arm you had just finished fixing up.
She rolled her arm and practically beamed at you, if she could of course. "Thank you! Y-You don't know how much this means to me!!" She pulled you into an embrace and you hugged her back with no hesitation.
"Of course. I'm just happy to help all that I can." Nothing felt better than seeing an omnic happy. As a human, it was rare to get along with omnics, especially after the war, but you were just glad that there was some peace in the world that you could take part in. Especially thanks to your teacher, Zenyatta, who was an omnic himself. You just wanted a better world. One in which omnics were seen as more than just robots, but another half of humans.
"How much will that be?" The omnic pulled her wallet out and started fishing out cash.
"No, please, it's on me. I don't need any money."
"Please let me pay, it's the least I could do." She started shoving money at you, but you kept declining.
"Ma'am, I'm serious. Seeing you in tip top shape is more than enough payment for me."
"You're a blessing, you know that?!" The omnic threw her arms around you once more before thanking you what seemed like a thousand times before leaving.
Genji just smiled at you from across the room. "You are very talented, y/n."
"Oh, stop it, Genij." You cleaned off a couple of tools and gave Genji a playful punch on the arm.
"It's true! I don't know what the omnics would do without someone like you. I don't know what I would do without you." He pointed to his robotic body, making you giggle a bit.
"It's seriously the least I could do. They need help, right? That's what I'm here for. To provide that help." You wiped some oil off of your face and slipped off your dirty apron. "Now I'm off to go get some food because I am exhausted."
---
"Brother, I just want to know why you're not fighting for us! For the omnics! The ones who raised you!" Ramattra exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. He was on a walk with Zenyatta, as it had been years since they had last seen each other.
The two decided to get back in contact after a lot of thinking Zenyatta had done on his part. Moral of the story is: he missed Ramattra. They had an unbreakable bond that was taken away from them over a few disagreements. It's not that Zen wanted Ramattra back to change his mind. He just wanted to see him again. Without that brother-like omnic by his side, Zen was becoming a bit lonely.
"Don't you care about your people, brother?! Don't you care that they are dying?!"
"Of course I do, Ramattra," Zenyatta sat next to a nearby lake, looking up at the stars. "But doesn't everyone die?" His tone was soft and Ramattra was already getting frustrated.
"Yes! Everyone dies! But not like this, brother... not like this." He sat next to Zen, looking to the stars as well. "I just want peace for our people. I want to avenge Mondatta. I don't want it to happen all over again... especially to you." Ramattra sighed, feeling a little more at ease, waiting for Zenyatta to say something. Praying that he would agree with him.
"I understand how you must feel, brother," Zen's tone was still soft, not breaking once. "But we each have our own ways of thinking. I don't think anyone should die for the sake of others. I think in the end, we should all be equal."
"But how are we supposed to be equal when-"
Ramattra's rough tone was quickly interrupted by Zenyatta skipping a stone over the lake they were next to. "Listen, Ramattra. I invited you here because I missed you. That's all. We can have talks about war and death later, but for now," Zenyatta got up from his spot, continuing the walk. "I want to know how you've been."
---
"What did you get?" Genji walked up to you, taking a fry from your meal; the omnic he was talking to that was in recovery went back into rest mode. There were a lot of omnics that had to heal up, especially some who have seen some bad places. Your shop wasn't the cleanest, but at least you had a space for them to stay for a while.
"Well it looks like you already figured it out Mr. I Like To Steal Fries." You giggled, placing your food on a nearby table with tools strewn across it.
"Sorry, sorry," Genji put his hands in the air in joking defense. "Look, I'm just hungry too, y/n. You can't blame me."
"I thought you would be," you sighed, pulling out another bag. "So I got you some food too."
"That omnic was right... you are a blessing."
"Shut up Genji and just take the food. And you owe me a fry now!" You laughed, handing him his food.
"Do you have any more patients today?" Genji took off his mask to reveal his scar covered face. If only you could do something about that.
"I think I have one more... but it's a Junkertown patient."
"Are you serious?" Genji's mouth was full of food, shock painted on his face.
"Yeah," you said solemnly. "I hate getting those patients. Not because they're hard to fix, but because I feel so bad. The Junker Queen really fucks them up, I tell you what."
"I bet. I'm sorry." Genji looked at a patient who had been bed ridden for weeks. Another one from Junkertown, still trying to regain consciousness.
"Genji, I'm the last person you should be apologizing to." You looked down at your food, getting prepared for the patient you were going to have to help soon. You wished it didn't have to be this way between humans and omnics, but for now, this was the only thing you could do to help.
---
"Wait," Ramattra pinched the bridge of what would be his nose. "So you're telling me that you're teaching... a... human?"
"Two actually." Zenyatta said casually, watching an airplane fly by.
"Two?! Have you gone mad?!"
"Perhaps a little mad." Zen giggled to himself.
"You have got to be playing some sort of sick joke on me. I can't believe you would do something like that."
"Not all humans are bad. You do know that, right?" Zen gave Ramattra a playful look, which was returned with glaring eyes.
"Yes they are. Why else would we still be going through this pain and suffering?"
"Follow me. I want to show you something."
Ramattra sighed, but didn't argue with Zen. "Fine."
"Might I ask when the last time you spoke to a human was?"
Ramattra went silent, trying to think. "I don't really... speak to them. They made us suffer, so I make them suffer."
Zen hummed in response. "I see."
For the rest of the walk, the two omnics were silent. They didn't feel like more needed to be said, so they just listened to the nighttime birds sing and the slight breeze blow onto the nearby lake.
Ramattra loved when the world was peaceful. It was rare for him. Not often did he get to just enjoy the sounds of the world, it didn't feel like he was allowed to yet. He still had things he needed to do for his people. It was like a breath of fresh air was unheard of for Ramattra.
In that regard, he was very thankful for Zenyatta reaching out again. It was like how he used to live. And even if it wouldn't be permanent, it was nice.
"Right this way, brother." Zenyatta pointed down a dark alleyway, the only light coming from a dim lamp next to a sign that said in dark colors: "Omnic Repair". Zen opened the door to a dimly lit workshop with tired omnics lying in hospital-like beds.
Ramattra looked around the workshop, his gaze finding Genji who was sitting with an omnic that was in better condition with the rest, joking and chatting with him.
"Brother, what is thi-"
Ramattra was quickly interrupted by Zen putting his finger over what would be his mouth and pointing to you, who was hard at work fixing the omnic from Junkertown.
Ramattra turned to you and felt like everything around him had stopped. Like nothing existed in the world but you.
"Not all humans wish to see us suffer, Ramattra," Zen whispered with a smile, seeing how gentle you were with your patient.
"H-How?" Ramattra's tone was almost as soft as Zenyatta's.
"What do you mean, 'how?', brother? This is what they love to do. They want nothing more than to see an omnic live out its life."
"B-But... they're human."
"Very observant brother," Zenyatta giggled, putting his hand on Ramattra's lower back. "Why don't you say hello?" He pushed him to you, but Ramattra quickly stepped away.
"Zenyatta, I can't. They're doing something important right now." His eyes stayed glued to you, watching as your eyes didn't once leave your patient. You were so focused on fixing them, on helping them not be in pain, it was admirable.
You tilted your head, fixing a screw and stood up, stretching. "I'll be back." You said to your patient, who was already more than halfway completed. "You're a trooper."
The barely conscious omnic seemed to smile at you, giving you a limp high five and saying a soft "thank you."
You nodded and turned around, almost bumping into a large... omnic?!
You apologized and took a step back to find Ramattra standing in front of you. He was taller than any other omnic you have ever seen and a hell of a lot scarier too. But he also looked so... cool. Definitely unlike any other omnic you've met.
"y/n!" Zenyatta stepped out from behind Ramattra as you took off a face mask you had on. "You're doing excellent work in here!"
You smiled and gave Zenyatta a short hug. "Thank you, master. It's been a long day, but we're almost done."
"I'd like you to meet someone." Zenyatta pushed Ramattra in front of him, revealing to you the tall omnic. He had to be way over 6ft, he was gigantic.
"Hi!" You smiled, sticking your hand out to him.
"Hello there." Ramattra just stared at your hand and you let it limply fall to your side. You gave Zenyatta a confused look.
"This is Ramattra," Zenyatta introduced him because he knew that Ramattra wouldn't do it himself. "Ramattra, this is y/n."
"Does he need repair? Because he looks just fine to me. I mean I could check a couple of his bolts and wires, but like I said, he looks in tip top condition." You took a fry from the table in the corner of the room and popped it in your mouth.
"I need no repair, human." Ramattra's tone was rough, but it didn't scare you. It was just alarming to hear someone speak to you like that.
"Alright then... What can I help you with?"
Zenyatta just laughed and shook his head. "y/n, Ramattra here is like a brother to me. We've taught each other a lot, but got separated due to differences. I just wanted to show him the work you conduct in here, perhaps show him another side."
"Nothing will change my mind about humans." Ramattra turned around and crossed his arms, looking around the small workshop.
"That's not what I said, brother. I just wanted to show you something new, that's all."
Ramattra just ignored Zenyatta, walking over to an omnic who had to get all of his limbs replaced and was clearly exhausted, but still awake.
"Why are you here, brother?" Ramattra grabbed the omnic's hand, looking at his tired figure. "Why not get repaired by one of our own kind?"
The omnic just looked at Ramattra and stretched, his eyes getting brighter. "y/n is great. They make sure we're cared for and in our greatest condition."
"Yes, but they are human."
"I've met a lot of good humans in my day. And they are definitely one of them. If not for them, I wouldn't be here, talking to you."
"I see... Well, I will let you rest now. Godspeed, brother." Ramattra left the omnic to rest and saw that you went right back to work on your patient from when he walked in.
He walked over to you and sat down, watching you as you worked, not once thinking about anything else but saving this omnic.
"How long have you been doing this job?" You jumped slightly, shocked to hear Ramattra's booming voice.
You giggled, a little embarrassed about getting frightened. "I've always been interested in repairing, but it wasn't until I met Zenyatta that I realized that I can use those abilities on omnics too. Plus, I know that you all have been through a lot and I just want to start the movement to help. It's not much, but it's what I can do."
If Ramattra had a heart, it would be pounding. Perhaps he felt the simulation of it or at least his brain was telling him that his heart would be pounding. Whatever it was... he didn't like it. "W-Well, human's have been the reason for our destroyed life. The reason we are so hurt and suffer this much. It is because of you that you are fixing us. You're not helping with anything."
You didn't know how to respond. You had never been through what he has, nor do you even know how he would feel. So you just kept working on your patient. "I'm sorry." You ended up saying. "I know a simple apology isn't enough, but I am really trying to do better as a human. Omnics deserve much more than they are currently given and how they are treated, so, I'm sorry Ramattra." You looked up at him, making eye contact. "Truly."
For the first time, Ramattra couldn't say a single word. He had no rebuttal, nothing rude to say, no singular comment, nothing. He had nothing to say to you.
So instead of words, he opted for a head nod and continued watching you work. You were so precise, so caring, making sure not to hit any vital wires that would hurt the omnic in front of you. You knew what you were doing, and you were clearly skilled.
Shortly after, you took off your mask and smiled at your patient. After a couple of hours, this poor omnic that was torn apart by the citizens of Junkertown was finally as patched up as you could get them. Definitely able to live a mostly normal life and that was all you wanted for them.
The omnics eyes lit up. They couldn't walk or move too much due to their current condition, but they could definitely feel the difference. If they could smile, they would, but you could certainly tell how happy they were. "Th-Thank you." Their voice was weak, but sounded way happier than before. "You don't know how much this means to me."
"Of course," you smiled, grabbing their hand. "I'm just glad you're all better now. Like I said earlier, you're a trooper. Now get some rest, alright?"
They nodded lightly and pulled their blanket up their body, drifting off into sleep.
Ramattra was amazed. You were so... gentle with the omnics. You really did seem to love your job.
You slipped off your mask and your apron, receiving a high five and a "good job" from Genji.
"Thanks Genji. Another day done." You stretched, a couple of bones in your body popping.
"So," Ramattra scoffed, still trying to keep his intimidating front. "How much do you get paid for this?"
"I don't," you admitted, hanging up your apron and slipping on some slippers, yawning. "Why would they have to pay to continue living? That's just not fair."
God, Ramattra hated the way you were making him feel. Humans weren't supposed to be this... nice. They were evil. All of them. Right?
"Oh shoot!" You ran up to Ramattra, gently brushing your fingers over his arm. "There's a crack."
"It's nothing." Ramattra quickly pulled away from you.
"I saw a missing screw in there, it's not nothing. Can I please look at it?" You reached out your hand to him again and he pulled away again, walking away from you.
"No. I won't let a human touch me! I-"
Ramattra was interrupted by Zenyatta putting his hand on Ramattra's shoulder. "Just let them try. I promise they won't hurt you."
Ramattra sighed, but sat down anyway. He wasn't super stoked about having to be fixed by a human, but that crack and missing screw have been messing with his ability to use his arm properly. "Fine. But if you try anything, human, know that there will be prices to pay."
You could tell that Ramattra was stiff. You realized something though, perhaps this motion he made around humans wasn't because he was trying to defend himself or wanting you to fear him... it was because he was... scared. At least it seemed that way to you. He has only seen humans as something to harm him and the people he loves. Maybe being able to see a human as an ally was frightening to him.
"You don't have to be so tense," you giggled, pulling out a bag of assorted tools. "Loosen up a bit and this might be easier for both of us."
"It's a little difficult to do that... I don't want to drop my guard."
You hummed in response, picking out the tools you needed. "I understand... It must be weird to see humans as a nice thing, huh?"
Ramattra went silent for a moment, looking at a dim light bulb above him as you went to work. "I suppose. Your race has done nothing but hurt mine."
"I wish it didn't have to be this way," your tone was gentle as you concentrated on your work.
"Me too." For the first time, Ramattra's tone dropped. He wasn't trying to intimidate you anymore. It sounded almost... friendly.
"I'm going to bed, y/n." Genji took a step away from his desk that was cooped up in the corner of the workshop and stretched. "Great job today."
"Thank you Genji," you smiled. "Get a good night's rest, alright? It's already pretty late."
"I will. Don't work yourself to the bone, got it?"
"I won't. I'll be heading to bed myself after I fix up our new friend here." You chuckled as Genji went off to his room.
"After I fix up our new friend here."
Was Ramattra really stooping so low to find a human... friend? No. There was no way.
"All done!" You put any tools away and looked over Ramattra's metal body to see if there was anything else you needed to do.
Ramattra moved his arm and was shocked. It was the best his arm has felt in years.
"Thank you." Ramattra bowed at you. "I... appreciate your efforts."
"Anytime," you cleaned up and smiled at Ramattra, your hands moving to your hips. "Just be sure to come back again if there's anything wrong, alright?"
Ramattra just nodded and followed Zenyatta to the door of the workshop.
"Oh, y/n?"
You were headed up to your room to finally get some rest after such a long day, but were stopped by Ramattra's voice.
"Yes?" You stuck your head out from the top of the stairs.
"Promise to get a good night's rest?"
You thought for a moment as a smirk painted your face. "Yes. Promise to be back?"
Ramattra thought for a moment. "...Yes."
---
Ramattra did, in fact, come back. A lot actually. More than you expected him to, at least.
At first, it was for small upgrades he was thinking about related to his body and his weapon. And then it was to just see what you were working on and to visit other omnics. And finally, it was just to see you.
It was odd building a relationship with someone who hated your kind. Someone who was afraid that you would turn your back on him at any second. But you noticed every day that he would warm up to you more and more. Even if it was just little things like scooting a little closer to you or telling you about his day.
There started to be days where you would rarely not see his face.
---
"Good morning, y/n." You heard that familiar bell of your workshop door opening and Ramattra ducking his head to get through.
"Good morning, Ramattra." You smiled, continuing to sweep the floor.
"Any big plans for the day?"
"Nope! Today's my day off so I'm going to try to organize this hellhole."
Ramattra chuckled at the sight of your messy workshop. It wasn't unsanitary by any means, just cluttered.
"Sounds good." Ramattra nodded, sitting on a nearby stool, looking giant in it.
"Do you need any upgrades or anything fixed, Ramattra?"
"No, not that I can think of."
"Then do you have any big plans for the day?"
"No. I trained with Zenyatta this morning, but that's the only plan I made for today."
The two of you did what you needed to do in silence. You cleaned up all the clutter, trying to organize it to your best ability, and Ramattra would be on standby if you needed him to reach anything.
"Can I be honest with you, y/n?" If Ramattra could blush, he knew he absolutely would've been.
"Sure, Ramattra. Go ahead." You finally got a chance to take a breather, so you sat across from him.
He cleared his throat and kept his composure. He couldn't lose that stoic posture, couldn't let his guard down. "You are the most tolerable human I have ever met."
You laughed out loud. "Thank you?"
"I mean it. You're kind, caring, and helpful. I hate to admit it, but I think I'm actually starting to like you." He laughed, not believing he was actually saying any of this to you.
"That's actually very sweet, Ramattra. I've liked you from the beginning, so nothing has really changed over in my department." You smiled, laying your hand on the table.
"y/n? I just wanted to let you know, I hate the way you make me feel."
"Really?" You laughed. "Why's that?"
"I don't particularly enjoy conversing with humans, let alone take pleasure in being around them."
"Is it scary?" You asked, tilting your head a bit.
"To be honest with you, it's terrifying. I feel like I'm losing that hard edge. Growing softer. I'm not keen on that." He chuckled almost nervously and you slid your hand over to his.
"Well, I like guys with a soft side." You smiled and immediately made whatever heart Ramattra did have melt. How dare you!
"Don't you dare." Ramattra chuckled, giving you a playful smack on the hand.
"I'm glad I met you, Ramattra."
"I feel the same... I'm thankful that there are humans out in the world like you. It's almost making me..."
"Hopeful?"
"Precisely."
Ramattra walked up to you and placed his forehead on yours. You planted a small kiss on his cheek and he hugged you.
Yeah. You were making him feel hopeful.
~~~~~
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