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azulpitlane · 4 months

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vicious I ln4

pairing: lando norris x reader, a little of charles leclerc x reader🫣 summary: lando's fans always attack you yet he does nothing to defend you, inspired by vicious by sabrina carpenter notes: if youre the anon that requested this sorry it took so long lol! but you were so sweet ty masterlist, part two

yourusername

liked by maxfewtrell, charles_leclerc and 1,829,392 others

yourusername lil getaway

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user wait is she dating lando??

user there's been rumors of them dating for months but neither of them have confirmed user hopefully not lol

user i had no idea she went on this trip

user yeah cause lando never posts her or even likes her posts lmfaoaofda

user am i the only one that finds her annoying...

user nooo everyone else does lol shes always leeching off lando

yourbff ur perfect babe liked by yourusername

user pls dont let this be a hard launch🧎‍♀️lando get UP

user of course she has to post lando🤣she needs him for the likes

maxfewtrell spent more time on the ground than actually skiing

yourusername SHHHH it was my first time

user why are all these comments about lando?? im only looking at her😍

f1gossip

302,837 likes

f1gossip Y/n Y/l/n spotted in Bali celebrating New Years at Martin Garrix's show, possibly with Lando Norris. The two have sparked dating rumors for a few months now but no confirmation has been made from either of them.

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user we might have to start accepting that theyre dating☹️

user I REFUSE

user wait im new to the fandom, whys everyone hating on y/n i love her music...

user shes always posting lando for attention and he clearly has no interest in her, he doesnt even like her posts user plus his ex >>>>>>> y/n

user she doesnt deserve him, he needs someone lowkey and y/n is such an attention whore

user not surprised shes there, always leeching on him

user right like girl give him space, he aint yours

user im a y/n defender idgaf. everyone in these comments are just jealous liked by yourbff

user yikes... user defending someone who needs a man to stay relevant lol ok

user i miss luisinha😭

user im convinced theyre still dating and shes using lando for pr

y/n hey lan, i safely made it back to the hotel

lando 👍

y/n i still dont understand why you wanted me to leave early though, its not even midnight :(

lando y/n, we talked about this. there was lots of paparazzi there and if they saw us together on midnight they would think we're dating

y/n we ARE dating... why are you acting like we arent?

lando yk what i meant im just trying to protect you from the craziness that comes from dating me baby

y/n im already getting hate, hows hiding me any different?

lando lets just not do this tn. yk how much worse its gonna get it if we confirm anything listen i love you, isnt that enough?

y/n yeah, ily too

lando ill see you later tn❤️

lando baby where are you? come on it was a drunk mistake, yk i only love you it was just martins friend, you know her

y/n oh the girl you told me not to worry about?

lando it didnt mean anything why are you acting like this?

y/n because you fucking cheated. im leaving and im moving out of the apartment

lando please dont, im sorry baby i love you

y/n you say you love me but you can never prove it you hid me away for a whole year, was it so you could hook up with other girls?

lando of course not wth but since there's clearly no trust in this relationship maybe we should end it i wish you the best y/n read

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, pietrapilao and 3,295,203 others

yourusername new year same me, wasnt ever the problem

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yourbff YES WIFEY liked by yourusername

user she unfollowed lando omg.

user WAR IS OVERRRR

pietrapilao out of sight out of mind🧘‍♀️ liked by yourusername

user is this about lando omg...

luisinhaoliveira99 😍😍 liked by yourusername

user ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE??? user WHEN DID THEY MEET??? user I NEED THE TEA RNNNNNN

charles_leclerc 🖤

user OH?

user what is going on in these comments omg??

user shes finally realized lando will never date a girl like her

user hahaha fr she finally deleted all her posts with him user probably gonna go for piastri now🤣

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 3,294,234 others

yourusername took some time off music but dont worry, im back and ready to prove i dont need anybody to stay successful

vicious is out now💌

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user OH NOWWW LANDO LIKES HER POST

yourbff sooo back baby

user this has to be about lando...

user the lyrics are heartbreaking omg

user you all owe her a big apology for the way you treated her

charles_leclerc you look good in red this comment has been deleted

charles_leclerc love it! this comment has been deleted

charles_leclerc congrats on the new song!!

taylorswift 💌❤️

user yall better not start switching up!! if you were hating on her, stay away

user are we just going to ignore charles' deleted comments??

user bro was NERVOUS

user we dont know if this is about lando!! they were just friends

user you toxic lando fans need to stay away🙄 she was never seen with anyone else this past year so its clearly about him. hes not some saint you paint him out to be user exactly!! you guys are acting like you know him

user her shirt saying loyal🫣thats gotta be a diss

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, martingarrix and 630,402 others

landonorris pretty vicious life im living rn

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user the caption??? the hard launch??? oh thats not-

maxfewtrell bro. no.

user his own best friend doesnt approve of his behavior😬

user this winter break drama is something else

user lando i cant keep defending you. why would you caption it this.

user IS THAT NEW YEARS KISS GIRL ON THE THIRD SLIDE???

user yess i found her @ shes martin garrix's friend and she was at that party

user anyone else notice luisa unfollowed him??

user she chose her side HAAHAH user pretty ironic cause so many fans were comparing y/n to her and now theyre friends🤣

user whys everyone mad?? its his private life why do you guys care

user oh so now you guys are giving him privacy?? but when he was rumored to be with y/n you were hating...the hypocrisy

yourbff alexa play obsessed by mariah carey🥱

user OOP user the girls are fightingggg

user not even a y/n fan but this was a bit unnecessary...

user "you dont feel remorse, you dont feel the effects" 🫠

f1gossip

240,520 likes

f1gossip Despite hard launching their relationship just one week ago, Lando's new girlfriend has been spotted getting cozy with a different guy! The leaked pictures have already caused for her to go private on all social medias😬

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user karma is A GOD

user i know y/n is having a good day today

user omfg poor lando :(

user womp womp

user i bet he is regretting his decisions rn😭

user y/n nation won today, ln4 nation taking L after L

user we cant catch a break😩

user WHAT IS GOING ON WITH LANDO RN

user craziest winter break yet jeez

Instagram Messages

charles_leclerc hey y/n! i know we havent spoken much but ive seen how lando treated you the few times you were at races and i apologize for never speaking on it i just wanted to tell you you're a great person and your music is so amazing if you ever need anything please just shoot me a text!

landonorris y/n you blocked my number? im sorry about everything baby can we please just talk?

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, maxfewtrell and 4,204,214 others

yourusername im soooo sorry for your loss😊

my new single feather is out now!! special thanks to @charles_leclerc for helping me out in the music video, had so much making it <3

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user this mv was so hot omg

user I WAS NOT EXPECTING THIS BUT I LOVE

user i know a certain someone is FUMING

luisinhaoliveira99 on repeat already!!

yourusername 💋💋 user im convinced luisa reached out after she saw all the comparisons with her and y/n and they became besties user wait that makes so much sense

user f1 twitter is going insane rn

user Y/N NATION KEEPS WINNING

pietra.pilao AHH youre so talented bby liked by yourusername

charles_leclerc had the best time on set with you❤️

yourusername ❤️ user i ship it........

user i want them both

user ofc now shes going for another driver🙄

user oh you guys are OBSESSED with her, get a job user y/n still has them mad LOL

user l**** would never agree to anything like this

user im literally never getting over this, ive watched it 5 times in a row already

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, maxfewtrell and 940,240 others

landonorris a toast to my real friends

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user if this is a charles sneak diss i will cry

user we got carlando content....but at what price

user oh he definitely got blocked by y/n😭

user dw we're on your side lando

user who is we?

user just take the L and move on bro

user the way 2 songs got everyone to switch up on lando HAHA

user not just that but his shady posts too

charles_leclerc posted a story

Replies

user the girls are OFFICIALLY fighting oh gosh

user next season is going to be interesting...

user my roman empire

user IS THIS A HARD LAUNCH???

user what is happening.

user PARENTS

#lando norris #f1 x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris smau #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #ln4 #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader

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our-flag-means-love · 8 months

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by popular demand (aka the 63 people who voted "yes" in my poll (six months ago oops) for whether or not i should do this)

here's why ofmd is a romcom, beat by beat

so for the purposes of this analysis, the ten stages outlined in this article are what i'm using for reference.

(and for the sake of everyone's dashes, i've added a cut because This Got Long. like, genuinely, 1.6k and 24 images. you've been warned.)

1. Unfulfilled Desire: something important is missing from the love interests' lives.

before the love interests meet, both of their lives are lacking in some way, often in a way they hardly realize. and this unfulfilled desire doesn't have to be romantic love in and of itself, and quite often it's not. and the things missing from ed and stede's lives are not romantic love. not at first.

what stede's missing is skill and structure. to put it bluntly, he has no idea what the fuck he's doing as a pirate, and without the guidance of someone more experienced, he'd likely get himself and his whole crew killed soon.

meanwhile, what ed's missing is interest. he's just about as bored with his life as anyone can be. every day is the same, and he needs something new—a new environment, a new challenge—to bring the spark back into his life.

2. Meet-Cute: the love interests meet, and at first, their personalities clash.

now, granted... in most meet-cutes, one of the protagonists isn't like three-quarters dead and nearly unconscious. but, as we know, ofmd is not like most shows.

but when we fast forward a bit to their real proper first meeting, we can quickly start to see how their personalities differ. in many meet-cutes, the love interests start off on bad terms, but in ofmd it's more of a contrast than a real clash, as stede and ed take a liking to each other right away.

in their very first conversation, stede is self-conscious and fretting, while ed is relaxed as can be. and as they talk, ed is in awe of stede's eccentricities, and stede is in awe of ed's powerful reputation.

and nothing exemplifies their contrast better than what they spend the rest of the episode doing—literally switching clothes and switching roles, getting a taste of what it would be like to be each other.

3. Happy Together: the love interests spend time together and grow to enjoy each other's company.

the classic honeymoon phase—not necessarily denoting romance yet, just a bond that continues to grow stronger the more time they spend together.

one of their first, biggest bonding events, just a few days after they met, is of course the fancy french party. while the night ends in disaster, the two end up much closer after the experiences they shared.

however, i think by far the best example of this stage is the montage at the beginning of episode 6, narrated by none other than my favorite (derogatory) terrible little rat man, izzy hands, who will become relevant soon. in romcoms, this stage is often shown through montages, so it only makes sense that that would be a great demonstration of it here as well.

4. Obstacles Arise: the love interests' original lives and obligations catch back up with them.

it's no longer possible to avoid the hard truths their happiness let them ignore. while both ed and stede go through this, i think stede goes through it differently and at different, non-linear times, so i'll talk about him first.

the pre-edward life that stede has been forcing to the back of his mind is, quite obviously, his wife and children back on land. and he's done a very effective job of ignoring it while he's been around ed.

he was fretting about it before—like in episode 2 with nigel's guilt ghost—but it doesn't seem to fully hit him again until he learns in episode 9 that he'd been declared dead. (in my opinion, the dreams/flashbacks in episode 4 feel less about stede's guilt, specifically, than these other instances do. but even if they are, that's still before he properly met ed.) so he does go through this stage, but it happens in slightly different ways and at different times.

ed, on the other hand, has a very specific and concrete obligation that catches up with him: a promise he made two weeks ago.

this is where izzy comes in. just as mary is the personified symbol of stede's old life, izzy is the equivalent for ed. whether ed initially intended to follow through on the plan or only said it to placate izzy is up for debate (and my personal take is that it's somewhere in between, but that's a story for another time), but izzy is going to hold him to it regardless.

and when ed can't bring himself to do it, because of both his growing feelings for stede and his trauma around killing people himself, izzy is determined to carry out the act for him.

5. The Journey: the love interests face and overcome the obstacles together.

what better way to overcome adversity than by getting thumbtacked to a mast by the same Very Angy Little Guy who's the source of the adversity in the first place? with izzy banished, the biggest obstacle to ed and stede's love is out of the way (for now).

stede still hasn't overcome his big obstacle, of course, but as i said, that happens very non-linearly with regard to the romcom structure.

the two also overcome other minor obstacles, like their bickering during the treasure hunt adventure. the key is that they face what's in their path and settle into a new normal with each other.

6. New Obstacles: despite solutions seeming effective, more hardships arise.

the next big issue thrown into ed and stede's relationship has a name, and its name is calico jack rackham, my favorite (affectionate) dumpster fire of a man. which makes sense—after all, his sole purpose in meeting up with them was to separate them before the english navy arrived. and he does a damn effective job of it.

and even once he's gone, they're still faced with chauncey badminton, stede's near-execution, and his and ed's eventual surrender to the english. they may have escaped chauncey's wrath (for now), but they bought it at the cost of their freedom.

and on top of all of that, now they finally confess their feelings for each other and make plans to run away together, and the choice—really, stede's choice—of whether or not to go through with running off to china looms in the distance. speaking of which…

7. The Choice: the love interests have to decide if the relationship can work.

a turning point is reached, and a decision has to be made. can they go through with it? are they really the best thing for each other?

the choice stede makes here is helped along in no small part by chauncey badminton, whose encounter just solidifies the beliefs stede already held—that he abandoned his family, and that ed is better off without him.

so stede makes the choice to run.

he goes home to his family, and ed is left to return to the ship alone.

8. Crisis: the love interests—now apart—ruminate and face the consequences of their choice.

the winter of their discontent. stede has made his choice, they've separated, and they're both worse off for it.

ed is depressed, retreating to his blanket fort and writing sad songs while eating marmalade.

and meanwhile, stede is back with mary and the kids, but learns that they'd all moved on and were much happier without him around. so he's left trying to force himself back into a space where he no longer fits, and all the while he misses ed more than anything.

and of course, ed takes it one step further by going full emo kraken mode. he's so distraught about stede leaving that he too forces himself back into the shell of what people expect of him—of what he was supposed to be before he even met stede—despite not fitting there anymore.

it's obvious that without each other, they're both in pretty rough shape.

9. Epiphany: one or both of the love interests conclude that they belong together and rush to reunite.

think of this stage as the person running through the airport to reach their love interest before the flight leaves.

in ofmd, it's clear who has the epiphany, because we watch it happen in real time. stede sits down with mary and asks her how it feels to be in love, and while she describes it, all he can think of is his time with ed. he finally realizes that what he's been feeling all along is love.

once he knows this, he knows he has to leave his family again, so he can reunite with ed. he and mary stage their fuckery, and stede rows off in a dinghy bound for wherever ed is, because he knows that as long as he's with ed, he'll be happy and everything will be okay.

10. Resolution: the love interests are reunited. desires are fulfilled, and all is well.

sooo… stay tuned for october 5th, i suppose?

#the show is the relationship y'all #our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd meta #ofmd analysis #stede bonnet #edward teach #blackbeard #blackbonnet #gentlebeard

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00-hawkboi-00 · 7 months

Text

Make a Mercy Out of Me

Part Three

Pairing; König x m!reader

Word Count; ~7.66k

Warnings; kinda sorta graphic depiction of stitching up wounds near the end. So if you don't like needles.. be careful.

A/n; König is a sergeant bc I said so and it fits my narrative. There's also plans in work for why he's a part of 141 & background knowledge on him. Lore. Eventually.

(we need more clips of this man istg-)

You were a frustrating man to work with. You had hardly said much of anything during that sad excuse of an interrogation, at least nothing of much use. All they knew now was that there was someone out there who held your leash. Or, well, used to. You were a wildcard now, without someone to keep you on lock and key, and there was no way in the deepest pits of hell they could set you loose on the world with what they knew–which wasn't much. Not unless you were hanging off their every word or buried six feet under an unmarked grave.

--- "babysitting duty" ---

"You talk about him like he's some sort of lab experiment."

"Mm." Well… "maybe he is. Who knows."

"He isn't some feral dog, König."

He didn't like it. As much as your words had ignited a–often ignored–spark in him, there was something itching at the back of his mind telling him you weren't trustworthy. That you'd stab him and the rest of the task force in the back the moment you were left to your own devices.

"We should keep him."

"He's a person."

"Not a good one."

"Neither are we."

They had to keep you, if at least for society's sake, on that straining lead. As any slack would surely be the catalyst of his very own demise.

I could make the world bleed.

The words were stuck on replay in König's mind, as well as the man who had spoken them. It was a horrible thought to have–but he couldn't help but find it.. intriguing. The idea made his heart skip a beat and the corner of his scarred mouth curl.

"He said he'd make the world bleed, König. That's fuckin' creepy as shite!" Ghost spat, arms crossed over his chest, as the two made the journey back to the rest of the team.

"You have said much stranger things, Ghost."

"You can't really be considerin' this." A few beats of silence from the larger man was all the confirmation Ghost needed. "Price would never agree to it."

"He said he could help."

"Help." Ghost huffed. "Right. Help with what exactly? He has no idea what we've been working on."

"Ja, he doesn't know. But what about that bomber? Could it be relevant?" Besides Mouse, the team had been tracking a much more persistent threat. Something that left behind more than just breadcrumbs in the form of mutilated bodies.

"...are you sayin' he could be involved in this?"

"He has been showing up right after every hit."

"Right." Ghost pauses in his tracks, turning his head slightly to look up at the other man. "So you think he's with them? Or.. maybe one of their targets?"

König comes to a stop too and takes a moment to mull it over. Could you have been a part of the group they'd been hunting these past few months? It was a little.. suspicious that you'd show up and take out another high-profile figure right after every strike made. Were you cleaning up their mess? Or your own?

"That's all the more reason to keep him, no? To find out? We know he has someone he reports to." There was also the fact that the explosion had gone off practically right under your own two feet. That had to mean something.

Just following orders?

"It's a little concerning when I of all people have to remind you that he is a very real, living, breathing, capable-of complex-thought person." König brushes off Ghost's concerns with a noncommittal shrug.

If they took the route of you having been just another victim of the explosion, that left many unexplained variables. Such as why you were a target–wouldn't one terrorist organization blend well with another? Why would they be at odds? It also leaves the question that, if you had really been abandoned by your crew, why had "she"–the woman who you'd mentioned–left you for dead? Was it legitimate? Or a ploy of some kind?

Then there was the more believable scenario that would tell it as; you hadn't really been betrayed by your group, or whoever held your metaphorical leash. And the explosion was some kind of distraction, a way to get their attention. Maybe–if one applies the theory that you were in cahoots with the people they'd been hunting–you had wanted to get caught. Or, maybe not you specifically, but whoever "she" was. Maybe you were sent as bait and they'd fallen right into that mouse trap–heh.

Maybe you didn't even know this was all a farce. That would make it all the more believable, no?

Either way, they need you here. For information. And if they played their cards right, if they burrowed their way under your skin and into your heart–like a damn parasite–you would give them exactly what they wanted. Lead them right to both the core of your organization and the group behind the bombing. And if the people or persons behind the bombing were by some miracle connected to who they had been tracking…

"He can help." His words help a certain air of finality to them, a small grin making an appearance under his hood.

Another sigh, but not a no.

Price wasn't as thrilled by König's proposal as Ghost begrudgingly was.

"You want to what." König wasn't a fearful man–unless he was ordering from a drive-thru, that shit was terrifying–but when the Captain looked at him like that. Let's just say he was forever grateful for the cloth that obscured almost the entirety of his face.

"Keep him." And if his voice comes out a little smaller than normal… no one mentions it.

To his right, König hears Ghost let out another heavy sigh. For a man who used to take a blowtorch to a hostage's skin and quite literally wears a skull stitched onto his face every day- if you'd asked König, he'd tell you the Lieutenant had grown soft. Or, well, soft-ish. He would still slit a man's throat without question.

"Why'd you wanna do that?" Gaz pipes up, giving König a blank, indecipherable expression. Coupled with his tone, König couldn't tell which side of the fence he was leaning towards. He knew Gaz, out of all of them, was the one with a more strict moral compass–something König both admired and thought of as foolish–but he also already didn't like their current hostage. So, discerning whether the other man would be for or against his proposition was a complex feat. König would have to walk that fine line, choose his words carefully, to sway Gaz's opinion in his favor.

"We could use his help." Is what König finally lands on. Not leaning too far into what Ghost had described as treating you like a tool, but not dipping into friendly territory either. An even middle ground.

"From what Ghost and I managed to gather," well, König had gathered. Ghost more or less just stood in the background as a silent spectator. "He claims he's been abandoned by someone he'd only refer to as "she". That this woman brought him here from wherever he came from to follow some lead- but that lead seems to have been a dead end."

"A dead end?" If Gaz's thing was compassion and strict morals, Soap's was intrigue. Puzzles and demolitions, that's all it took to draw in their resident impulse-driven pyromaniac.

"A dead end," König repeats, now switching his attention to the Scotsman. "Turns out there was no target, not really. Or, at least, that is what it appears like at first glance."

Soap's eyes light up when König moves to reach into his pocket, fishing for the blank note. Bingo.

"At first, when we pulled this off him, we had assumed it to be blank," he unfolds the crinkled-up paper, mud, water stains and all. König reaches his hand out to pass the note to Price, keeping the others on the edge of their seats. "But if you take another look.."

Price inspects it with a deep frown, then passes it to Gaz, who looks at it with a skeptical raise of his brow, next is Soap then Ghost, and finally back around to König. Upon closer inspection, past all the grime and stains, there was a faint red scribble.

"It is like there was something here," he mutters, smoothing a gloved thumb over the worn parchment as if that will somehow make the faded words clearer.

"But someone must've purposefully scrubbed it away." Ghost adds, seeming much more interested than he had earlier.

Any other person would probably have brushed the now-pinkish, washed-out markings as blood. And König almost had; after all, you were practically swimming in your own blood right now. Clothes stained with it far past recognition.

Even so, he knew that wasn't it.

The paper had a slew of things it was coated in–some recognizable, some not–, but blood was, surprisingly, not one of them.

"Dae ya think 'e knows?" Two.

"Maybe he was the one who erased it?" Three.

"We won't know unless we ask him. But,"

They all look over to Price, waiting for the man's next words with bated breaths.

"We can't jus' do it outright." Price's steely gaze lands on König and he subconsciously stands a little taller.

"König's got the right idea. We can't jus' kill 'im. Not yet." Four. "Not until we know everything he does."

"Aye, Captain." Soap grins, pushing up from where he'd been resting against a wall. He tilts his head in the direction Ghost and König had come from. "Let's go wear 'im down then, yeah?"

"Preferably before he bleeds out." Ghost reluctantly grumbles. "Bastard already looks to be halfway through death's door."

Price looks to König, cocking his head slightly to the right.

"You said he believes he was abandoned, right?"

"That is correct, sir." The corner of Price's mouth ticks up.

"So no one's coming for 'im then?"

A sick twist of anticipation began to swell in König's chest, and suddenly he was a lot more confident than he was a few seconds ago.

"Precisely."

The last thing you were expecting after those two giants left was for them to return with the whole damn crew. You'd be lying if you said the leader didn't make every inch of your being tense up. There was just something in his eyes; that cool blue, warmer than König's but still so cold, gave off a deceiving "I'm not a threat" while simultaneously saying "flinch and I'll kill you".

The dark-skinned man and the baby-faced one stood a little ways behind you, and closer to the door. The leader took a seat in the chair König had been sitting in–assuming the same position the Austrian had. Skull-face stood in the same place and König took his place on your right-hand side. Standing just far enough behind you to barely graze your peripheral but close enough where you could feel his presence looming near you. Invading your personal little space bubble with his, so close if he leaned any closer he'd be brushing up right against you.

The leader tried his hand at interrogating you again. It went a little something like this;

"Do you know why she left you?'

"Probably had something to do with my bad attitude."

He gives you an unimpressed look. You simply raise your eyebrows in question. You had broken your vow of silence, but that didn't mean you were going to make it easy on them.

"König said you could help us. Mind tellin' me what exactly you could do to help?"

"I have connections. People who owe me a favor or two." Or five. Hey, in your defense, you had been in the game for a while.

"Are these connections… legal?"

"I highly doubt you care about legalities if you are conversing with me still," Then, just to be a little shit, you add a snide, "sir."

You swear you hear a small huff behind you and you brush it off as a figment of your imagination. After all, you had lost a ton of blood.. It was a miracle you hadn't passed out again from blood loss. At this rate, you should probably be dead. Or, at the very least, comatose or something. Not back-talking the man who was very literally your golden ticket to freedom.

You blamed it on the blood loss. Made you say stupid shit.

"What else can you offer us?" In other words; why should we keep you?

"One less Brit in your ranks?"

"..what?"

"You all could really use some diversity."

There's a pregnant pause before,

"Is making jokes all you're good for?" Skull-face speaks up from behind the leader.

"What can I say? It is part of my charm."

The bearded man in front of you lets out a heavy sigh. Something about that sigh told you this type of thing wasn't new to him. A small part of you perked up with curiosity. You then proceed to beat that part of you back down into a bloody pulp.

"Are you goin' to take this seriously or not, Mouse?" The leader captures your attention again and you shrug. You really should take this more seriously… but the lack of vital, life-supporting fluid in your system was making you loopy.

And stupid.

"König?"

Very stupid.

A small grunt from behind you.

"Hast du darüber nachgedacht, was ich gesagt habe?" (Have you thought about what I said?)

The man in front of you frowns, looking from you to König, to you again. But he doesn't stop you. Someone probably should.

There's a terse silence before König replies.

"Deshalb sind sie hier." (That's why they're here.)

Despite your slightly dazed state, you smile a little to yourself.

"Did you tell him?" Now the leader looks even more confused, if not a little more frustrated. Good.

"Tell me what?" His glare is now trained on König, and you know you've gotten the giant into deep shit now. Even better.

"Nein."

And just like that you, very foolishly, let out a small puff of what was obviously an attempt at laughter. Though a poor one.

At this is rate, you'd sooner get yourself killed than cut loose, but your mouth seemed to have a mind of its own. It also seemed to be keen on digging you into deeper shit.

"It is a good deal.." you trail off, narrowing your eyes a little at the leader. It would be great if you knew their names. But no one seemed interested in filling you in on that, so you continue, "you all could really use the help. After all, the only reason you lot even caught me was 'cause I was having a bit of a bad day."

"A bit of a bad day?" Leader asks.

"Aye," you drawl. Your heart thudded a few times in your chest, slowed, then picked back up again. Really, you should be dead, slumped over in your chair, by now. "Got blown up. Stabbed a few times.. broke a few bones.."

You give a sloppy grin beneath your mask. Yeah, definitely shouldn't be awake right now. "Bit of a bad day."

"He's useless like this, Cap'." One of the men from somewhere by the roll-up door pipes up.

"Agreed." Skull-face huffs. "Poor guy's all hopped up on adrenaline. He's not much use to us now."

The leader–Captain?–scrutinizes you for a few more moments before exhaling heavily.

"Alright." He grumbles, standing up from the chair.

"König," the Brit calls on the man beside you but keeps his stare trained on you, as if daring you to utter another smart-assed quip. "You were so damn adamant about keeping 'im, yeah?"

It's obviously a rhetorical question and the atmosphere shifts, the tension in the air palpable.

The leader, or, you guess, Captain–these men and their pretentious titles..–adjusts the beige-colored, boonie hat on top of his head and signals something to the two men by the door. You hear the telltale clanking of the metal being rolled up.

"You're on babysitting duty, Sergeant," he says in that displeased rumble–one you had become very familiar with during the first attempt at interrogation–as he makes his way for the door. "So get his arse back in the van, we're moving to someplace more permanent."

The other three men proceed to file out after their Captain, leaving you alone with the, now fuming, Austrian.

Annnnnnd…

"Maus." He grits out from behind you. You proceed to, very smartly, not respond.

Shit.

Instead, you stay stock still even as König leans over you and unsheathes a knife from someplace on his person. One heavy hand gripping your, thankfully, non-injured shoulder and the other reaching around to rest the blade beneath your chin. He urges your head up with the tip of it until your eyes–oh, yeah, he was definitely pissed–lock with his. In the short time you'd known him you had almost forgotten how downright intimidating only being able to see those pale, glowing blues staring through your very soul was.

"Sie werden es bereuen." (literal; you will regret it. Contextual; you're going to regret this.)

He, while maintaining eye contact, removes the knife and brings it down to hover just above your waist. Your own gaze can't help but flick between his and his weapon-welding hand. Self-preservation, you call it. König, after all, has that sharp metal alarmingly close to your dick.

You choose to ignore the thrill that causes your breath to hitch, an unfamiliar feeling stirring somewhere in the deepest pits of your hindbrain.

You watch as he–in a strange show of caution–places the gloved hand that had been on your shoulder beneath the coarse rope, thumb and fourth finger keeping the binding in place, and swiftly slices through the thickly twined fibers. He then makes quick work of doing the same to the rope wrapped around your thighs and ankles. The barest hints of warmth emitting from him easily seep through the thin, ruined cloth of your pants. But before you can think too much about how long it's been since you last felt the touch of another not-currently-dying human being, König pulls back.

When you look back up to search out his gaze you find he is no longer staring you down, his own focus entirely on freeing you from the bindings. The lack of pressure on your worn body is a relief and the next breath that leaves you is shakier than the last–you choose to believe it's just your body coming down from its adrenaline high.

The last of the rope that had been keeping your lower half bound to the chair falls away to the floor with a soft thump and König retreats completely to move onto your hands. Thank fuck for your own fabric-clad hands, you aren't sure how much more of this non-threatening touch you could take before you fucking imploded or something. All you can feel is the slight graze of his deft fingers against your concealed wrists, and even that is muted. Courtesy of the current lack of decent blood circulation to your bound extremities.

After that final piece of rope is removed, you're being yanked to your feet. Off-balanced and stumbling as blood rushes back to every limb, you nearly come crashing straight back down. König's firm hold on your forearm is the only thing that keeps you from taking an embarrassing nosedive into hard concrete.

Panting heavily behind the fabric of your mask, you groan as the world swims around you. König only spares you a few seconds to steady yourself and then he's making a sudden appearance in front of you and trading out his grip on your forearm to engulf your wrist–and subsequently almost your entire hand–in one large hand. He wastes no time in tugging you forward to follow in his footsteps.

You realize quickly that the time between the rest of the group leaving and König's undoing of your bindings hadn't really been more than a few moments–half a minute at most–, as the other members of König's team were just now turning a corner and leaving your field of vision.

How embarrassing, you think, it felt like a fucking eternity.

König easily uses his tight grasp on your wrist to lift you up just enough so you don't have to make the small hop off of the elevated ledge and out of the storage unit–thank fuck it wasn't your injured arm. You aren't sure whether to be annoyed at his blatant show of strength–seriously, the movement seemed entirely effortless on his part–or grateful you didn't have to make the jump. Your depth perception wasn't exactly the best right now and you probably would've just fallen right over. You doubted you would have even had the energy to catch yourself.

The walk out of this seemingly abandoned facility and back out into the scalding heat–huh, they must not have taken you very far–was surprisingly quick. Your barely lucid brain blocked out the majority of the dizzying twists and turns it took to find the exit. And soon enough you find yourself back in the loading space of that damn van.

This time you are mostly conscious, so you're granted the wonderful opportunity of bearing witness to the burning glares of the three other men seated on the opposite bench. König takes his place beside you and actively decides to not even glance in your direction. Instead silently communicates something to the other passive-aggressive passengers. Well, skull-face was definitely more on the aggressive side of the spectrum, but you were mostly certain he couldn't do anything. Or so you hoped.

The baby-faced one was looking at you with more curiosity than anything, a minor hint of defense hidden somewhere in those–why the hell does everyone here have the same eyes??–vivid blues. That barely concealed interest was more terrifying than skull-face's obvious death stare.

The Captain turned his attention to the Austrian beside you, nonverbally communicating his displeasure with a hard glare and deep frown. Ah, the dark-skinned man must've been the one driving the damn thing.

After a few more painstaking minutes of having a half-assed staring contest with the two men across from you, you give up and let your eyelids fall half-shut. Still nauseous with blood loss and possible infection, you pant lightly within the confines of your mask. Heat continues to build in the suffocating cloth and you let out another soft groan, unable to help yourself when you slump backward against the metal wall of the vehicle.

The ground moving beneath you does nothing to aid your current lightheadedness and you find yourself focusing most of your limited attention span on not vomiting in your mask. That would be a hellscape on its own to clean, and the humiliation would probably kill you off before the budding infection had the chance.

It doesn't take much time before you can no longer fight off the exhaustion weighing down the big ball of throbbing pain that is your entire body and your eyelids finally slip shut. Before you have the chance to force your eyes open again–this is definitely not an ideal place to fall asleep–a sudden heavy thwack against your mutilated shoulder does the job for you.

Your eyes snap back open, fully alert as you search out the culprit. You find König giving you a blank, deadpan stare and the venomous words sprouting on the tip of your tongue quickly fizzle out when you notice the van has stopped moving. In fact, you two are the only ones remaining inside. The other four are piling up just out of earshot, the backdoors wide open and showing off- well, nothing. It's dark and all you can make out are vague shapes in the background.

You huff and go to stand but König beats you to it. Still holding onto your wrist, he gives a sharp tug and you stagger out of your seat. You send him a seething glare but find that his attention is no longer on you.

König pulls you out the same way he had the storage unit; efficiently lifting you by your arm and out of the vehicle. You barely manage to keep your balance when your boots touch solid ground again and just that little bit of exertion has you sucking in ragged gulps of air.

When the Captain glances over to you two, König makes a show of lifting your arm into the air as if to say got it and the Captain gives a small nod in acknowledgment. You don't have the wherewithal to give a shit about being treated more like an object than a person, brushing it off and trading it out to take in your surroundings instead. Besides, it wasn't something you were exactly.. unfamiliar with.

Surrounding you is another compound. More well-kept than the storage facility you had previously been in, but still obviously worn. The stark white walls were practically glowing in contrast to the pitch-black, starless night sky. Besides some crumbling and scuff marks here and there–most likely from environmental weathering over time–the cinder block walls were almost pristine.

Your fuzzy, mush of a brain briefly considers asking König where the hell they had brought you, but your tongue is like lead in your mouth. Not that it really mattered, you highly doubt he would've told you anyway. You were a prisoner, after all. A prisoner who they were only keeping alive on the off-chance you could help.

Help with what exactly? You had not a clue. Hopefully, they'd soon get their shit together and tell you sooner rather than later. Then again.. what would they do with you once your use to them came to an end? Would they just end up killing you anyway?

Floodlights abruptly make an unwelcome appearance, bathing the courtyard in a blindingly white light and knocking that train of thought right out of your head. You cringe away from the sudden brightness, squeezing your eyes shut momentarily before blinking a few times in rapid succession to adjust.

You only have the time to register the sheer size of the compound before you are being tugged forward again and into the said building. As usual, you silently curse König's unfairly long legs and subsequent far longer strides as you try your damnedest to keep up. The nausea, burning full body ache, and pounding against your skull have yet to lessen. If anything it's become more of an issue now that you're not running on pure adrenaline.

You find yourself fumbling over your own miscalculated steps more often than you make a successful one, König having to more or less drag the majority of your dead weight along with him. The behemoth of a man doesn't even have the decency to make it look like doing so is any struggle. Bastard.

The interior lighting of the compound is somehow far much worse than the blaring exterior. You squint against the harsh brightness and it takes a few seconds for your pulpy mess of a brain to make out the shapes and colors in front of you. Or, well, the astonishing lack of colors. Dull shades of grey coupled with a blinding light. Perfect.

Someone's talking. Multiple someone's, really. But your ears are too stuffed full of cotton to make any sense of what's being said. The most you can do is try to read their lips–which proves to be futile–and try to gauge the emotional state of the men in the room.

The plainly, uniform-dressed men standing guard seem to not at all have a problem with the crew that had brought you in. Though obviously holding a subordinate position in comparison to the team, they shared easy smiles and small laughs with the group. The Captain appears to be keeping up a polite kind of façade–was this not his base?–as he converses with the two newbies. Skull-face, mohawk guy, and the Captain's obvious favorite all stand behind the Captain in an organized order. With skull-face standing the closest–was he some kind of right-hand man?–babyface and the third man stood at a respectful distance. Not too close, but just near enough to assist if needed.

König kept you a little more ways away from the others, a firmer grip on your wrist than before. It would probably hurt if the remainder of your body wasn't currently one giant sore spot. You realize why when one of the guards spares a glance at you and, spotting your eyes on him, immediately shrinks back and averts his gaze.

Ah, this definitely wasn't their base. Made sense. They all were clearly European and unfamiliar with the normalities of wherever the fuck you all were right now. Faintly, you remember the dark-skinned man complaining about how weird it was driving on the right-hand side of the road.

You're snapped out of your own musings by a harsh pull on your arm. A small noise of surprise escapes you and, before you know it, the guards are moving out of the way and you are being escorted further into the building.

Going off the darkness you had awakened to, it is obviously late at night, maybe even well into the morning by now, and the only people you all pass are all exhausted-looking security personnel.

König follows behind the other four down corridor after corridor, dragging you along behind him. Eventually, you all make it out into what appears like a sort of gathering place or common room. For a split second you think they're going to stop there, but, no, they keep going. Down more confusing hallways and through nonsense doors.

Then finally, finally, it all comes to a stop at an unremarkable metal door. Nothing on it, not even a little window, with the exception of the room number plastered next to it.

You squint at the numbers, trying to make sense of the blurry shapes. There's a small tugging in the back of your mind and, if you were any more aware, you'd almost say it was familiar. Huh.

The Captain unlocks and pushes open the door, then, before you even have the opportunity to protest, König yanks you close and shoves you forward. You stumble–again, seriously, did they think you were made of fucking steel??–through the doorway and only barely manage to break your fall on the closet wall. You stand there for a moment, panting and bracing against hard concrete, while the others file in.

If it wasn't for the unnecessarily heavy thunk you probably wouldn't have realized that the door had been shut. Your vision blurs then blacks out for a split second while you catch your breath, and the only thing on your mind is; how the hell am I not dead yet?

You're only given a few more moments of rest then you're being pulled by the wrist again. Unable to even really feel your legs anymore, the sudden brushing of something solid against the backs of your knees is all you have to tell you you've even moved. You don't have to be told twice to sit, hell, you probably wouldn't have been able to hear them if they had given the order.

You drop your weight instantly, unable to hold yourself up any longer. You can't feel much through the fabric separating your fingertips from what's below, but from the slight give when you press down, if you had to guess, you'd say you were seated on a cot of some kind. It's not the most comfortable, but it's the best thing you've had in a long, long while.

Lifting your gaze at the sound of someone's voice, you blink rapidly in a vain attempt at refocusing your vision.

"Hm?"

All four men standing in the room give you vaguely concerned grimaces. Well, you assume König and skull-face do, judging by the crinkling of their limited expression.

"I said-" the Captain begins. Not that you hear any of what comes after that. Head full of cotton and feeling simultaneously like you're both floating and being weighed down by a ship's anchor, you're left futilely trying to read his lips. But that only makes the pounding in your head worsen and you screw your eyes shut again.

Cradling your head in your hands you lean down, elbows propped up on your knees. You suck in shallow, shaky breaths, fruitlessly trying to get the proper amount of oxygen to the lump of mass that is your brain.

When your eyes flutter open again the lights have been dimmed just enough to take the edge off, reducing the strain on your eyes, and you immediately slump in relief. You think you mutter your gratitude under your breath, but, really, you're far too out of it to be certain.

A few more muffled words and the soft thumping of footsteps later and the door opens then shuts one last time. You look up expecting to see nothing but an empty room, a little caught off guard when that behemoth of a man is still looming near the door.

"We should really get you checked out," König says, giving a brief once-over at your disheveled appearance. Giving a noncommittal hum, you take a look down at yourself.

You had not bothered to take full stock of your person since the initial confrontation–and even that was a laughable inspection at best.

Every inch of your exposed skin–which, truthfully, wasn't much–was coated in a layer of mud and your own blood. Your thin civilian outfit was in a similar state of disrepair; caked in blood, more mud, and bits of stuck-on foliage as well. Accompanied with the occasional tear and hole here and there, of course.

"I'll get a medi-" Before he even gets the word out you're launching yourself up and off the bed. Charging at him despite how unsafe that currently is and reaching up to slam your grimy, gloved hand over where you assume his mouth is.

König quickly and easily peels your hand away by the wrist, staring down at you with less anger and more of a really, what are you doing? kind of look.

"Nie." (No.) You breathe as your only explanation. You had had enough of fucking medical staff in your time before your years-long solo operation began. Unknown injections, emotionless stares, and needles. Needles, needles, needles. So many fucking needles. You didn't visit those sterile, frigid laboratories often these days–though you were still required to come in every now and again for a routine 'checkup'.

"No?" König finally breaks through your suddenly hazy headspace–this time said fuzziness wasn't the result of excessive blood loss. You'd rather it were.

"Nie." You repeat again, and there must be something in your voice–something unlike yourself, something a bit too human–because König relents without further question and drops your arm.

"I can't really let you die on us, Maus." He points out with a deadpan stare. Then, probably realizing that phrasing sounded a bit too worried, he adds, "What use would you be to us then?"

"Let me do it."

"You can barely stand up straight and you expect me to hand you a needle?"

"I would rather me than you or some pea-brained white-coat." You huff, narrowing your still very unfocused gaze up at him. You hope it lands, you can't really see clearly right now.

König holds your stare for a few seconds longer before letting out a resigned sigh and looking away. "Fine."

He gives your uninjured shoulder a nudge with a gloved finger and rumbles a low, "Sit down."

You're about to bite back with some witty retort but the words get stuck in your throat when you realize just how close you two are. In your rush to cut off the words spewing from his mouth, you had somehow ended up crowding into his space in a very.. unprofessional way. Chest puffed up in a show of defiance and, subsequently, pressed right up against the other man.

That same, unfamiliar twinge in the furthest recesses of your mind from back in that god-awful storage unit begins to stir and you jolt away sharply. Jumping back and scurrying over to the cot at a faster rate than really necessary, as if that simple touch had burnt you. And, to be frank, it had. Indirectly.

König cocks his head, analyzing you for a brief moment, then shakes it off. Thank fuck. Having quickly averted your gaze, all you hear is some faint rustling and then his legs appear in your line of sight. A small first-aid box materializes from his hand and you lift your own trembling one to take it.

"Thanks." You mumble. You were a monster, not impolite.

König makes a light huff and retreats. Grateful for the, mostly likely unintended, room to breathe, you fumble with the kit before finally managing to wrench the damn thing open. Placing the box beside you on the bed you ungracefully free your first victim from its confines; your thigh.

Stab wound number one, thankfully, has stopped bleeding. On the other, far less favorable, hand, the injury is already a burning, angry red. A light poke at the inflamed skin with your finger has you hissing against the sharp sting.

Deciding keeping up appearances was much less important than your health, you make efficient work of removing both gloves. Also soaked with mud and blood, they would do no more than worsen what was already the beginnings of a very, very serious infection.

There's a bottle of saline solution in the kit and you uncap that first. Folding the bled-through, makeshift bandage in half, you use it to catch the liquid rather than letting the filthy solution drip onto the floor. After flushing out the wound as much as you can–without running the bottle dry, you've still got another to clean–the next step is the worst of them all. Stitches.

If you had it your way, you wouldn't use them at all. You had a tendency to forgo using a needle and thread whenever you could–only stooping to that level when it was absolutely vital. Like right now.

Even then, you only knew one form of sewing; intermittent sutures.

Tearing open a sterile needle packet you, surprisingly enough, make easy work of threading the surgical cotton through the eye of it. Pinching the slice shut with your non-dominant hand, you position the end of the curved metal about a centimeter from where the damn thing starts.

The first pierce of the needle into your tender flesh forces a strained whine from your throat, eyes beginning to water. You blink away the budding tears, exhale a shaky breath, and tie the thread off.

One suture down, an ungodly amount remaining.

Your hand only gets more unsteady as time goes on. Making each stitch more lopsided than the last.

Your vision swims for a brief moment and you swallow back the growing lump in your throat. Come on now, you can do this. You've done this so, so many times before. What was so different this time around?

Just a few more to go. That's all. Then you will be done.. well, then onto the puncture in your shoulder. The shoulder that also happened to be connected to your dominant hand. Great.

"Maus."

You can do this- just stab, push through- wait no, not like that. Pull it out again. Now, do it properly this time-

"Maus." Black gloves invade your sight and you grunt, trying to look around them.

The next time the needle pierces your skin it goes in just short of perfectly–success!–but it's good enough. Will keep your blood in, at least. Then comes tying it off and- come on, don't be difficult now.

Just toss over- like tha- wait, no. Just lift and- fuck.

A low rumble is all you hear and then those gloved fingers are wrapping around your wrist once more and effectively halting your progress. You huff, looking up to glare at him only to find his own hardened gaze staring down at you.

"-keep trying, you are only going to hurt yourself." Wait, had he been talking this whole time? "Then what use would you be then, hm? You would be of no help if you died because of your own damn stubbornness."

You feebly try to tug your hand back, but he doesn't budge, simply using his other hand to pluck the needle from your hand. Narrowing your eyes, you do the only thing you can do; throwing hundreds of imaginary knives at that stupid smug look in his eyes and internally cursing him out.

After your two's little staring contest goes on long enough for your captured hand to start going numb, you relent. Letting out a heavy sigh and dropping your gaze.

König makes a small noise of approval and releases your wrist. You don't watch as he finishes up the mess of stitches sewn into your thigh, nausea returning with a vengeance and forcing you to shut your eyes again.

He finishes up relatively quickly, faster than you probably could have in this state, and rinses the wound again before pasting a bandage over it.

"I need you to look up."

"Hm?" Light pressure under your chin causes your eyelids to flutter back open and you frown.

"Wha-?"

"Up." He reasserts, using his guiding touch to urge your head up and out of the way. Forcing you to straighten out your shrimp-like posture and provide König with access to your injured shoulder.

Said shoulder that was more bruises and blood than it was untouched flesh; able to get a decent look at it now that König had removed the sloppy work that was your mess of torn fabric and duct tape.

He repeats the same steps you had to clean the wound and this time you watch. Less so keeping an eye on the weeping wound and more so on the hand sticking the–new, he had discarded the one used on your thigh–thin metal through your skin. He's surprisingly delicate with it, despite his size he is far more precise with his sutures than you had been. Carefully inserting the needle and tying off every knot with practiced ease. Unlike you, he hadn't foregone his gloves, and that's why you notice it when you do. Having been so attuned to his busy hands.

His gloves are still stained with your blood.

Coated in a thick, dried layer of it. Dark against the already black fabric, flakes of crimson chipping off and drawing your eye.

It was the only part of him that showed any hint of wear from the morning's efforts. Every other inch of his uniform was speck-free, not a single item out of place, scuff mark, or splatter of blood.

It didn't make much sense for you to be fixated on such a minor facet after the laborious events of today. There were so many other things to draw your attention. Like the repeated motions of the curved metal puncturing your skin over and over again, for example. Or maybe his close proximity–accompanied by that weird feeling again.

But, no. Every last bit of your remaining attention span was focused solely on your own blood marking his hands. You sounded insane, even to yourself and that was an entire feat of its own.

You release a small breath of relief when he pulls away, slapping on another thick bandage over your second, freshly stitched injury. Then comes a sudden sting right above your eyebrow and you jolt away with a hiss.

Refocusing back into reality, König is still standing above you. Only this time he's welding an antiseptic-soaked cotton ball, also tarnished with your blood.

"Cut is deep." Is the vague explanation you get, coupled with a small gesture to your face. "No stitches will be needed. But,"

He reaches down to rifle through the first aid kit and makes a soft sound of victory when he finds whatever he's looking for. Holding your face still in one hand, he dabs at the cut a few more times before switching sides and drying it off. König throws the dirtied cotton along with wherever he'd discarded the scraps of your clothes and other miscellaneous trash.

Next comes another burning sting as he presses something over the wound. A few 'something's.

"A few pieces of tape should do the trick." He muses as he smoothes the sterile strips against your skin, the faint metallic scent of your own blood flooding your senses. Gross.

You really needed some sleep, or maybe it was finally time to check yourself into some kind of mental reform. Seriously, this was getting out of hand.

"Now," König pulls away for the final time, doing a brief scan of your exhausted form and nodding to himself. "Sleep."

You half expected König to leave it at that, to exit the room like the other four had. And probably lock the door behind him. Your hopes are crushed when he takes a seat a few feet away from your cot, settling into an uncomfortable-looking chair you hadn't noticed beforehand.

Oh, right. The Captain had assigned him as your personal babysitter. How fucking lovely.

Scooting back to slump against the wall furthest away from the other man, you send him a weak glare. Wanting nothing more than to argue that you can't sleep like this–not with him watching over you like some damn stalker–you find that when you try, you can't.

For what feels like the millionth time today, your eyelids droop until you cannot resist any longer. Falling completely shut and likely not going to open for a while, you give in. Unable to find it in yourself to give a damn right now.

Besides, you could.. moderately trust König wouldn't murder you in your slumber. He hasn't yet. And that seems to be enough for your sleep-deprived brain, as sweet unconsciousness soon drags you under.

___

One | Two | Masterlist | Next

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(finally figured out how to tag y'all properly! Sorry bout that. Thought I was doing it right this whole time 😞)

@cptg00s3 @ruthgrimxiao @20nerd04-blog @gloma08 @mikahrh @in-down @hauntedapplefarm @mello-life69 @unkn0wnd3ad @tayaisback @starre-eyes @ravage-reposts @suhmie

If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know in the comments!

#call of duty #cod x male reader #male reader #call of duty x male reader #call of duty x reader #könig cod #könig x male reader #reader insert #gay #mlm

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lilimalia · 1 year

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GHOST OF YOUR GRASP // zhongli

SYNOPSIS... freed from your encasement, the Liyue you once knew is no longer what it was. he is no exception to this... and yet your own body can't seem to blend with the time of change as well as your surroundings have. thoughts haunt you, had he ever really known you?

CHARACTERS... zhongli/morax , guizhong, streetward rambler, cloud retainer,

DISCLAIMERS... angst, no comfort, female reader, short series, spoilers for Guizhong's story + lantern rite, lunar new years special !

BARISTA'S INTEL... sorry to all the lumine travellers! and welcome to the part 1.5 of this [SS]. please enjoy!

TAGLIST... @neverlandlostchild , @yae-raidenmyloves , @rcronoa , @@inky-oni , @milkiemei , @angèle , @tanspostsblog , @maybemiko , @cherlynono , @@seyboo , @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos , @ittosoneandoniwife ,

CAFE TUNE... How Do I Say Goodbye // Dean Lewis ! Another Love // Tom Odell !

He remembers only the solemn smile that had interlaced your face the night before it happened. The night he grieved for not the loss of one, but two.

Sometimes he forgets your smile.

Guilt etches out his heart whenever he does. Guilt he knows he might never be able to seal shut. It seems even with the season of festivity he won't ever be able to leave you behind.

You would have been preparing him mooncakes by now... And Cloud Retainer would have been boisterously chatting about her mechanical inventions. And the sound of red bean would have been wafting into the air. Streetward Ramblers music humming it's own hypnotic melody in the background.

If only he had cherished that sweet smile of yours a little longer... Only now, he cannot remember it's details.

He regrets it, hiding away from you, sparing his time to Guizhong, and yet his heart aches for the comfort of both. Of both dust and forge.

"Morax, what is it that troubles you?"

"It is... Nothing of relevance Cloud Retainer."

"You have always been a distasteful liar Morax... Why do you believe Duànzào has always settled your gambles with that of war?"

Her name stings his heart, like blade to anvil.

"Where has she gone?... [Y/n] has left the plains for far too long. Are you certain they aren't in any trouble?"

"The Goddess of Forge is more than capable of defending herself Morax. Even you are aware of it are you not? She herself is quite the ample partner in battle." Cloud Retainer responds, nimble fingers pushing upward her glasses as she huffs towards the god.

"Ah, Morax! Cloud Retainer! Fancy seeing you here!! How do you fare?"

"Ah, hello dear Guizhong, we were merely discussing the absence of [Y/n], I am doing well. How are you?"

...Maybe that's when it started.

Cloud Retainer has always been talkative. But her eyes never fail to spot the details that entail her. The pain that stricken her eyes when she sees him.

She remembers the hot tears that you had shed every night. Tear's that stung her heart like the sparks of the forge. Reminiscing the pain that laced your face as you curled into her adeptal body. Fetal in her grasps as your tears stained her satin clothes. You look so... vulnerable.

She never could remember a time before that you were so wilted. Mental fortitude slowly crumbling in front of her eyes. And yet you still pretended as if it was nothing. As if it wasn't tearing you apart.

Cloud Retainer respects that of Guizhong. Her kindness and sweet child like shine. But she praises you, your ability to hold under such diminishing hope, cradling it like a newborn as you passed everyday stricken by envy.

She misses you.

Misses that genuine smile, the one that could light up any room. The one that would light the Xiao Lanterns that would decorate the skies of Liyue every festival.

Cloud Retainer has learned many years of vices to cope with that of immortality.

What she would give to bring back that smile.

"Duànzào! Please! Please consider this!" she remembers yelling. Watching as your clothes flailed wildly against the breeze of the mountains.

"Cloud Retainer... The age of war is upon us. You must understand, if I do not flee now. I will succumb to the darkness of greed..."

"Please! I beg of you!..."

“All that I ask of you... Please. Understand my reasons.”

She knows your crying. She see's those damned tears dripping down onto the grounds of the mountains. Watching as you gaze out towards the serene mountains of Liyue. Tips dancing with hues of orange as they molded against the touch of the wind.

"Running away from your fears solves nothing! Please, Duànzào reason with yourself!" She remembers crying out. Arms reaching out to grab your figure only to be pushed back gently.

"Morax is a lovely man... Please, for me, keep him safe in this forsaken time of war... It is all I ask for" your voice trembles. Tears uncontrollable sinking down, heart wallowing in pain.

All she ever asked for was for you too stay.

Stay for her. For Rex Lapis, for the sake of the Adepti.

She watches you leap forward, helpless to move. Body paralyzed against the strength of your Adepti force.

"Duànzào!"

But you were no longer there to hear her desperate cries.

"Where is she?! Where has she gone?!" Morax yells. Posture of elegancy forgotten completely.

"She's ran off... She left the plains of Liyue. And that of Liyue whole." He remembers Cloud Retainer saying.

The memory is painfully sharp against his mind. The memory of your departure. The one he had failed to forsee.

The time of the Archon War was unbearable. He remembers being tormented by the dreams of your face. How lonely you must have felt to have left him. But why hadn't you come to him?... He would have grasped you in his arms, cradled you away from the horrors of the world.

He would have done everything in his power to make sure you felt safe.

"[Y/n]... Please, if you are out there listening. Come back to my side..."

They had both failed to say goodbye.

SPECIAL BREWS... Duànzào // the chinese translation for forgery

Morax's armor // the armour that Morax wore during the time of war was specially forged by [Y/n] as a gift for their 100 year friendship

Banner // [Y/n's] memory of Zhongli was constantly replayed during her time in her Adeptal "jail", it hurt her to keep seeing him so much that she used her own power’s to blur out his face. Hence why the banner is glitched out

Cloud Retainer // [Y/n] confided with Cloud Retainer her darkest secrets, but her love for Zhongli was hidden away from Cloud Retainer in fear of being deemed lowly, it's one of the reasons Cloud Retainer regretted your disappearance so much

BARISTA'S INQUIREMENT... This was really hard for me to write... I feel like I didn't do as well this time around. I'd love your feedback!

word count. 801

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Banner credits: @veauwa

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melishatweedy · 4 months

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My take on Mrs Melisha Tweedy and why she is the way she is:

One of the first things that stuck out at me from reading “Mrs Tweedy’s Pie for the Soul” was Melisha’s backstory. Her father gifted her a puppy but her mother was disgusted with this. She wanted him to buy Melisha something “valuable”. Melisha reacts the same way as her mother does.. however we see a glimpse of her father in her when she agrees to try to bond with the puppy.

It seems she tries to make her mother happy the most, by saying she wanted a “gold telly” which is… unheard of for sure… and unrealistic. This tells me that she comes from a wealthy family.. this is maybe where her lust for money and power come from.. her mother. Her father seems very down to earth. He talks about how a young girl shouldn’t want riches, she should want something along the lines of a puppy, like other kids her age. I was obsessed with getting a puppy when I was a young girl.. just like most of my peers. The way her mother talks to her father is the same tone as she talks to Mr Tweedy.. a learnt behaviour.

We also see that Melisha doesn’t get along with her young peers. She claims she has no friends and is okay with this. It seems her mother’s words about being rich and alone seemed to have stuck with her. She’s accepted she has no friends, which is probably why she wants to be rich. She doesn’t want to be both poor AND lonely, which she ends up becoming after the end of the first film, or even the start.

Conclusion? She’s just like her mother. Her father tried, probably countless times to bring her back into reality and show money isn’t everything. But she’s stuck in her mother’s ways.. which is what we see from the first Chicken Run. The way she talks to Mr Tweedy, the way she’s obsessed with being rich. She most likely feels like she’s failed her mother now she’s poor and on a farm worth nothing. There’s a hint of emotional abuse from her mother.. cold and bitter, especially about how she should act. Here she’s a child, a child who cannot make friends and cannot see why most kids love puppies and toys etc. Thanks to her mother’s rich tendencies.

But why did she end up poor? Where is all this money and riches she once talked about? My guess is something happened with her father and they went bankrupt. Her parents lost everything during the wars. She was probably a teenager when the Wall Street crash happened.. remember it did affect the UK too quite a bit. When she met and eventually married Mr Tweedy, she probably saw the already probably dying farm as a new big business adventure.. but it didn’t go to plan. And in the second film, where she’s now married to Dr Fry, it’s mainly due to money and power. She married Mr Tweedy for love and a big future.. possibly children, which we saw never happened... she married Dr Fry for his money and intelligence.

Mr Tweedy… where do I start? The comic relief of the film one may say. He is a funny character. But she wasn’t abusive towards him. Emotionally? Perhaps some may say. We see her call him all sorts of names.. but physically? No. (Apart from that boot to the ass but that’s not relevant here). A simple man from a long line of farmer, most likely inherited Tweedys farm from his own father.

We see from his excerpt that the marriage is all but dead. However he says that he likes “a kind word from the missus” which indicates there is still a spark there. They do love each other but she isn’t in love anymore. She still does give him these “kind words” from his segment, and we see in the film her pinching his butt in one scene. My theory is they did marry for love, but with the farm failing and them becoming poorer than usual, that once love is now gone, from Melisha’s side anyway.

They divorce because well.. there’s nothing left. The farm is gone, the chickens are gone, money.. gone. They probably sold the farm and then divorced, he mayhaps moved on to work on another farm as a farmhand, and she met Dr Fry and the rest is history. There’s one part in the second film which sticks out to me, where she says “my current husband” meaning she probably will divorce him and take a lot of his money, investments and inventions. Yall know miss Melisha signed her name on many of these things. All I can say there is girlboss!

My ultimate conclusion: she’s had a hard life, give the woman a break. she’s not the “villain from chicken run” she’s a businesswoman with goals and aspirations.

I am all for any other theories or discussions with any of you!! I love it.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk!

#if Melisha tweedy has one fan: it’s me #if she has 0 fans: I’m dead #this took me ages I was very invested in eastenders #I’m a firm believer in Melisha supremacy #she needs a hug!#melisha tweedy #mrs tweedy #chicken run #chicken run: dawn of the nugget #mr tweedy #dr fry #emma’s chicken run degree

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muzzleroars · 3 months

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What? This is what I thought when he has V1's parents' same reaction.

lucifer sees v1 as a work of art that has become an artist in itself - being once of god, unlike any other angel, lucifer has massive amounts of creativity and appreciation for what humanity achieved through their own god-given spark. but beyond that, for v1 in particular, he sees something that has moved past its makers, it has forged its own path in defiance of what it was made for. he is fascinated by its mind, its construction, its life as something that may or may not have a soul (for what constitutes a soul, even lucifer does not know). but importantly it is a life not made by god, it is removed from him, and he wants to meet what god did not create. he wants to see what a full, vibrant experience it has, and v1 sure does. not disappoint lol so animalistic in behavior but with a razor-sharp mind, its first action is probably to challenge him to a one-on-one fight - not a surprise, given how much he knows through hell itself, but he worries he won't be an impressive match for it. he had been inert for so long and really...lucifer was never a warrior, his strength bolstered purely by his closeness to god. still, like anyone that can face v1 and live to tell about it, he finds the fight inspired, unpredictable, and a beautiful insight into a mind he cannot understand despite his godly knowledge. he is not moved by battle, but he can feel how v1 is, its emotions showing through and resonating within lucifer so that he gains insight into its passion. v1 finds its fascination in turn, recognizing right away that lucifer is not a fighter yet there is a disjointed fluidity in his movement, his choices largely defensive and illusory - he wouldn't be v1's first choice as an opponent, though his skillset is unique enough that it doesn't get bored. they stand as two perfect creations, the pinnacle of what god and man could create, and they find interest in the other purely for how alien they are. lucifer made for love and creation, v1 for apathy and destruction, curious of the other as they have been steeped in the role of their opposite.

gabriel doesn't ever really say anything to lucifer about his relationship with v1, mostly figuring it wouldn't be of any relevance to him as he seems preoccupied with attending to his fallen angels. but also...gabriel's aware that lucifer knows most of what's happened in hell and so his partnership with v1 likely isn't a secret to him. unsurprisingly, lucifer doesn't broach the topic for some time, his talks with gabriel a bit sparing and distant with his mind so attuned now to a self-centered focus in his isolation (GENUINELY does not remember how to talk to other people). gabriel actually begins to think he might not even have an opinion on their relationship, but he finds out that's quite far from the truth once lucifer is able to acknowledge more outside of himself. it's just...not what gabriel expected, if he expected anything at all. lucifer, already coming in with an appreciation of the bizarre, is actually happy for what v1 and gabriel have together. their relationship entirely defies the "natural" order of things, an act that would have been condemned fully by god and denied even as possible by v1's makers. he is glad too to see that love led gabriel to something better, it allowed him to finally follow what his heart had been telling him for all this time. it is a very rare thing to find such a kindred spirit and then to defy everything you were told you are in pursuit of that....and lucifer can find nothing more noble in the world than that. so while he continues to harbor his own issues with gabriel, he believes v1 has improved him by bounds and that he is now far more "palatable" than his siblings. gabriel has no idea how to take this, but v1 labels it an "endorsement" of its "personality"

#gabriel tells it that might not be the best thing. coming from satan #gabriel supposes he should have guessed lucifer's approval though #he has been made THOROUGHLY contrary to all things #and so of course something everyone else finds bizarre gets the thumbs up #cake answers #lucifer #v1 #gabriel #rise and fall au

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givemea-dam-break · 1 year

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hey i have a request for lockwood x reader! where maybe the reader hasn’t ever learned how to dance, and lockwood ends up teaching her for a case or just randomly??

a/n: oh how i love this idea. thank you for requesting, i hope you enjoy!!!

warnings: none gn reader

"I don't understand why it's at all relevant that I'm able to dance."

Lockwood laughs from his armchair, momentarily looking away from his magazine. "We've been invited to a party in the building we're stealing something from. We have to look somewhat natural. Besides, you're going to stay back and be a distraction. What better way to distract than to dance with someone?"

"I can list a few ways," you grumble, beginning to count them off on your fingers. "Activate salt sprinklers, release rabid dogs from the shelter, go streaking, arson -"

"And yet I don't think you'd like to do any of those." He pauses. "I also don't want you doing any of those. Especially streaking."

"I for one would be happy to commit arson."

"No time for joking, (name), we've a heist to plan."

He grins at you and, despite the sly glint in his eyes, you smile, too. It fades as soon as he puts his magazine down and stands, reaching out a hand.

"Oh, no, no, I can dance just fine. I don't need practice."

"You are hopeless at dancing."

"Then get Lucy to be the distraction!"

All of a sudden, you're pulled onto your feet. Lockwood's hand holds yours tightly, not enough to hurt, and no matter how many times you try to pull it away, he doesn't let go.

"Lucy would scare everyone off - she's not the friendliest of people."

"I'll have you know that I'm not the friendliest either."

He eyes the hand you're about to shove him with, gently grabs it to prevent the action, and laughs. "That I can see, but more people like you. Lucy agrees."

"I hate you both."

"Come on. Just a little practice."

It's not like you have much choice. He switches on an old speaker, already set up with a CD of some sort, and quiet music flows from it as he turns back to you. His smile is softer now, more private, as he places your arms over his shoulders The moment he touches your waist, sparks shoot up your body, and your skin feels hot.

"How do you even know how to dance?" you ask as he begins to sway, taking you with him.

"Well, this is literally just moving from foot to foot. A three-year-old could do this." His laugh makes your blood feel like it's been ignited. "My mum used to dance with me when I was little. Nothing advanced, barely anything more than what we're doing now."

The answer takes you by shock a little. Lockwood tries to avoid talking about his family as much as possible, so even this little insight into his family is a big step for him - for you both. You feel honoured that he's even decided to tell you.

He's right, though, it's not a complicated dance at all. Slowly, you both turn, still swaying from foot to foot, and he even throws in a spin, twirling you under his arm. You find yourself laughing despite your hesitance to practice.

With cases flooding in, and most nights spent actually completing them, you don't get much time to really spend time with Lockwood, so you're grateful for it now.

You try not to focus on how it feels to have his hands holding you close, or the feeling of his breaths ruffling your hair slightly. His smile is dazzling and it has butterflies swarming in your stomach, and, even through your woollen jumper, you can feel the heat of his hands.

Maybe it's the feeling of being so comfortable with him that lets you rest your head on his shoulder. Breathing in the scent of him, you smile happily.

"I wouldn't recommend doing that with any other dance partners," Lockwood says. His voice sounds breathy.

"Why not?" you murmur playfully.

His fingers twitch on your waist. You can feel his breath tickling your ear. "I think I'd get a little jealous."

"Anthony Lockwood? Jealous? Never!"

He laughs, pulling you closer.

It's not like your feelings for each other are unknown. Both of you know how the other feels, but nothing has come of it yet. You've both been too busy with cases and trying to get an acceptable amount of sleep to be able to function, but the feelings have always been there, waiting patiently to go that small step forward.

Now, with your chests pressed together as you sway softly, it feels like you might implode, desperate for that step.

When the music ends, neither of you moves. Your arms stay looped around his neck, and his hands are still firmly planted on your waist. You can feel his heartbeat pounding against your own.

Pulling your head from his shoulder, you smile. "I think I'll be a great distraction tonight."

His eyes flicker across your face. "Well, you've been a great one many times before."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Do."

Your faces are impossibly close. A hair barely separates the two of you. You don't miss the way his gaze lingers on your lips.

"Lockwood?"

"Mm?"

"Kiss me, won't you?"

He doesn't even hesitate. He barely has to move before his lips are on yours, and his soul encompasses yours. It's exhilarating, relieving, and you can't get enough of it. Now, finally being able to feel his kiss, it's like there's an insatiable hunger within you. You never want to stop.

But you do, breathing heavily as you look up at him.

"We should have dance practice more often," he says, grinning.

"Perhaps we should."

#anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x reader #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #george karim #x reader #fanfiction #givemea-dam-break

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spark-circuit · 1 month

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Here, everyone! Help yourself to a free Coffee yourselves while we wait for the update!

#Speed +1 to everyone who drinks - they'll get to their PCs faster lmao #stardew valley #sdv #stardew 1.6 #stardew valley 1.6 #stardew valley update #spark talks about nothing of relevance #I'm walking home from work now so I'll probably get to it after dinner #as a Shane enjoyer i am hard considering the Chicken Farm 💙

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knocktherock · 1 year

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Arrogant asshole Part 4

A/n: This is kind of a filler chapter, but also relevant to the upcoming plot (drama is coming babes dw)

Summary of the series: Joel has been acting like you don’t exist ever since you’ve slept with him a couple of months ago, which pisses you off. But this time you’ll make sure he remembers you

Part 3 part 2 Part 1

——————————————

The ride back to Jackson was marked by a contemplative quiet, with only the chirping of birds and the heavy thuds of hooves against snow to fill the air.

The heat and desire between your thighs was unbearable, you were still soaked from what had just happened, him edging you to the bliss but not actually letting you cum.

As you followed him with a few feet of distance, you couldn't help but notice the effortless way he seemed to move with his horse, every motion in perfect harmony. the way his thick thighs laid by the horses sides and the way his hair softly moved in the wind.

As you arrived at the gates of Jackson, he rode straight to the stable, without so much as a glance in your direction.

His puzzling behavior ignited a spark of anger within you as you stabled the horse. Once the horse was settled, you left for home.

As you approached your house, you saw a stranger standing close by and talking to Tommy.

You decided to join Tommy and the stranger in conversation, and as you approached, Tommy welcomed you with a smile.

„y/n, how did the patrol go?“ heat rose to your cheeks as you thought of something to answer.

„It was alright.“ you nod trying to hide your rosy cheeks.

Tommy nodded back and turned towards the stranger standing next to him, who looked like a lost child waiting for his mother at the front of the store.

„This is James, he will be your new neighbor.“ Tommy introduced you to the dark haired man who gave you a warm smile and offered his hand for you to shake.

You took it with an equally warm smile and excuse yourself to go take a shower.

You were excited about a new neighbor, the house next to you had been empty for a few months now.

The shower was long and steamy as your fingers finish the job Joel didn’t do.

You walked out onto the snow-blanketed streets early the next morning, the sun just beginning to rise. The crisp air filled your lungs as you stepped off your porch, and to your surprise, James emerged from his neighboring door.

You smiled at him politely as he stepped towards you.

„Would you mind showing me the way to the bar, I'm supposed to meet Tommy there.“ he rubbed the back of his neck.

„Oh sure“ you replied with a slight smile, there was nothing much you had to do this morning anyway, so you didnt mind helping the new neighbor.

The two of you walked down the street, chatting about irrelevant things, when you felt someone was watching the two of you. You turned to look for the burning stare that was puncturing your skin and spotted Joel, standing in his doorway, watching you and the stranger walking alongside each other.

Even from a rather far distance, you could make out his usual cold stare like a predator sizing up its prey, sending shivers down your spine.

You didn’t grand him another look as you focused on the man walking next to you. His towering height was matched by his warm olive skin tone, and his eyes were as dark as the densest oak forest.

You two reached the bar after a few minutes, it was only a couple streets away from you house.

James smiled and thanked you politely for getting him there.

„If you’d like to grab a drink later tonight, I‘m taking shifts here from now on.“

After some reflection, you realized that you didn't want to stop seeing people just because Joel was around, especially since there was no chance of anything happening between the two of you.

„Yeah sure.“ You smiled at each other, said your goodbyes, and then turned in opposite directions.

Today was a chill day, you only had a small patrol in the afternoon, you had the whole morning to yourself.

You made your way to Tommy’s house, it was at the end of the town, so you took your time just to stroll and appreciate the beautiful morning.

Despite the early hour, the streets were bustling with people trekking through the snow. The sound of children's giggles filled the air as they played in the winter wonderland.

You knew you didn’t have to knock when you reached Tommy’s door, that was an unspoken thing between the two of you. You walked through the door and were immediately hit with the warm air from inside.

But the first sight you encounter was not the greatest.

Sitting on the couch were Tommy and Joel.

You didn’t quite know what to do, you stood there for a second while Tommy smiled at you. You came here to hang out for a bit, but you were not expecting Joel to be here.

You took a deep breath „I was just gonna get some cereal if you don’t mind.“ you lie, there was no way you were going to hang out in here when Joel is around as well.

You walked into the open kitchen and looked through the cupboards for some random cereal that you didn’t even need.

As you turned around you took a look at the two on the couch, Joel was facing your way, his eyes followed your moves, then looked at his brother again and agreed with whatever he had just said.

Tommy turned his head towards you.

„So, is James getting settled in?“ he asked, but you were unsure of what the question implied.

You saw Joel's eyes snap towards you, and they are like two black orbs, devoid of any light or warmth, sending a chill down your spine.

„oh I think so yeah, he actually asked me to hang out tonight.“ Your look towards Joel was a challenging one, you loved to aggravate him.

„That’s cool, he’s a pretty handsome man, dont you think?“ Tommy asked you, oblivious to the tension in the room, oblivious to Joels clenched jaw.

„yeah he’s definitely above average.“ You nodded and smiled. You were happy that an attractive man was paying attention to you. The way Joel had treated you over the past months had drained most of your confidence, you were convinced that you were nothing but a girl to toss around, and you hoped that James was different.

You weren’t sure what message Joel tried to bring across with the glare in his eyes, his features were as unwelcoming as always, but his eyes conveyed a mixture of hate and something you couldn’t pinpoint, but you were pretty sure the hatred was directed at you.

You were very convinced by now that this man despised you and only bared to be around you when he needed to pound his frustrations into something.

You still stood there with the cereal in your hand as Tommy redirected his attention towards his brother.

„I will see ya around.“ you mumbled as you slipped out the door. Well at least you had a free box of cereal out of this.

The rest of your day was pretty generic, your patrol went very smoothly, you had a few other patrollers with you who you’ve worked with before and you were glad Joel wasn’t on schedule today.

You returned home around 6:30 pm, greeted by the early evening chill and the faint glow of streetlights that flickered on as darkness fell.

You were already thinking about what you should wear to the bar later, but you realized there were not many options during the chilly winter. You couldn’t wear something revealing without freezing your ass off.

When you got to your house, you went straight to your wardrobe, which was very sparely filled due to the apocalyptic circumstances.

You picked out a dark brown hoodie and some green pants and inspected yourself in the mirror. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness as you looked at your reflection and saw the changes that had taken place in your appearance since the world had fallen apart.

Your eyes were once bright and full of life, but now they looked dull and tired, weighed down by the burden of the world on your shoulders.

You made your way to the bar around 7. The heavy wooden door creaked as you pushed it open, revealing the dimly-lit interior of the bar and the thick, acrid smell of smoke and stale beer that permeated the air.

You immediately spotted James behind the bar and made your way over to him.

„Hi there“ you smiled at him as he was pouring someone a drink.

The hours flew by as the two of you talked, and he was so invested in the conversation that he neglected his other customers.

It made you feel good and wanted. You were not used to it at all, to him paying attention to every story you told, giving his comments and laughing at your jokes.

That was until an unwanted guest walked into the bar. His heavy footsteps vibrated against the floorboards.

Joel got seated at a small table in the corner of the bar, with a rough-looking companion you hadn't seen before. They shared a bottle of whiskey, the clinking of glasses and the low murmur of their voices filling the air.

You focused your attention back on your date „I will be off in 5 minutes, I can walk you home if you want.“ James offered and you could tell from his tone that he was genuinely concerned for your safety, not just looking for an excuse to spend the night with you.

You agreed as you saw it as a caring offer. He grabbed his jacket shortly after but instead of putting it on, he walked around the bar and wrapped it around your shoulders. You hadn’t minded to bring one yourself, considering the short walk back home.

He said his goodbyes to the man taking over the shift and the two of you made your way to the door. You passed Joel and his friend on the way out, but his eyes never left the man across from him.

You couldn't help but wonder if he had seen you leaving with another man's jacket, but if he had, he wasn't showing any signs of jealousy.

The walk back was pleasant, James asked you a few things about Jackson and about your patrol shifts.

You reached home and handed him back his Jacket. He was a very polite man, he did not make an attempt of coming in with you, he simply kissed your cheek and walked the few feet over to his house.

It was around 1am when you saw Joels living room light turn on across the street, the road was quite narrow so you could see every thing in there clearly. You watched as he walked into the kitchen and get a snack.

You decided not to watch him any longer and focused back on your book.

#pedro pascal #the last of us #tlou #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #pedro pascal smut

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