Hell? Widowmaker had no intention of seeking out the pearly white gates of Heaven.
But– at one point, she– as Amélie, had considered that she was bound to go to Heaven, to be with Gérard should either of them pass on before the other. She wondered what it would be like, to be in Heaven, to be at peace… but now she knew that Heaven for her, was an impossibility. Amélie would never get her chance to be reunited with Gérard, and the mere thought of it tore her apart. It was because of TALON– because of THIS WOMAN that she was never going to see her husband again.
IT WAS THEIR FAULT!!!!!!
“Of course, mon cher.” She whispers, heels ‘clacking’ gently against the flooring as she approached Joe with the grace of a predator, her eyes focused on the redhead with intent. Rifle in hand, she was quick to lunge toward the other, knocking into her side with enough force to shove her into the nearest wall and effectively corner her with no chance of escape. Aiming at her now, Widowmaker’s eyes narrow as she feels her insides beginning to rip apart.
It’s her fault. It’s her fault. It’s HER fault. It’s HER FAULT.IT’S HER FAULT!
“I suppose it is only fitting that I send you there first.” A hiss, this time, as she steps closer and closer, her scope now switching to aim for her head. “Because the only reason I am going to HELL is because of you.” A single tear slides down her cheek as anger is quick to replace the broken emotions that dared to flood past her rage.
“So do me a favor: When you succumb to the flames down below, drag me down by my ankle so you can RIP me from my world one more time before your wretched soul leaves your corpse.”
tfw there’s no detailed map of the world you wanna write fic for, but it’s really important that you get the distances/locations of places right, so you have to watch the show again for the third freaking time so that you can make the map yourself out of every time they show a map in the show, pinpointing individual places
So I'm not the writing god but how about junior breaking something and making kent mad
“I’m telling you, it’s perfect!” Kit followed Kent from the kitchen, and when he paused to listen to whoever was talking on the other end of his phone, she meowed at him for attention. He flopped down on his couch and bent down to scoop her one-handed onto his lap. Scratching behind her ears, he continued his conversation. “It looks just like the one we broke when we were kids. Mom’s going to love it!”
Kit hadn’t noticed it at first, but now a small, glass figurine that was sitting on top of Kent’s coffee table, surrounded by crumpled newspaper caught her eye. After a moment, she realized it was supposed to be a faceless woman holding a baby. Silently, Kit scoffed; it would be better if it was a small statue of a cat.
She closed her eyes, letting Kent’s voice blend in with the rest of the background sounds, slowly soothing her to sleep. However, the sudden intrusion of a wet nose and dog breath in her face pulled her back to reality. Junior had his worn, tennis ball in his mouth, but he dropped it on the floor. “Can I snuggle too?” Junior asked excitedly, his tail wagging furiously behind him.
“No,” Kit said plaintively, pushing his panting face away from her, but Junior was already clambering onto Kent.
“Hang on, Katie, Junior’s trying to climb on me too.” Kent paused to rearrange everyone, which meant that Kit was pushed off so that she was only half on Kent’s lap now while Junior got the other half.
Kit glared at Junior, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Do you think Kent will want to play later?”
“No,” Kit said, still grumpy from being interrupted from her nap.
The doorbell chimed, and Kent had to push both of them off to answer the door. Junior hopped off the couch, picked up the ball in his mouth, and jumped back onto the warm spot that Kent had vacated seconds earlier. Dropping it on the couch, he asked, “Do you want to play?”
“Come on, Kit! Please? Play with me?” Junior pleaded. He crouched down on his front paws while his tail continued to wag.
“Kit! Please?” he whined.
“Fine,” Kit grumbled because the phrase “giving up” was not in the kid’s dictionary. She swatted dirty ball so that it rolled across the living room. “Go away now.”
Junior took off, racing across the floor noisily. He was back ten seconds later, dropping the slobber-covered in front of Kit. Irritated, she smacked it further this time, but it didn’t deter Junior as he bolted after it again. Kit watched him come back, but it wasn’t until it was too late that she realized that he was running too fast on the hardwood to stop in time.
Junior tried to stop, but he skidded and crashed clumsily into the coffee table with a surprised yip. The delicate figurine that Kent had bought for his mother toppled over the edge to its demise where it broke into fractured pieces. They were both frozen for a panicked moment until Kit finally regained her wits.
“Well, that wasn’t well made at all,” she declared.
“What the fuck!?” Kent exclaimed when he came back into the room. He pulled at his hair as he took in the scene. “Fuck! Mom’s birthday is in three days!” He came around the couch and picked up Junior. “Bad puppy,” he said angrily. Junior flattened his ears and whimpered.
After he checked to make sure Junior didn’t have glass stuck in his paws, Kent took him into the garage. Kit could hear his sad howls from inside the house and she felt bad for the kid until Kent came back and picked her up. “Hey, I didn’t do anything!” she protested, but he didn’t respond, and she ended up in the garage too.
Junior kept up his sad whimpers and howls for a little while longer, but he seemed to wear himself out. Kit watched from the top of the shoe rack as Junior curled up on the scrap of carpet that was by the door. She was miffed that she had gotten dragged into this mess when it wasn’t even her fault.
However, when Junior start to shake and snuffle wetly, she hopped down and made her way over to him. Kit paused, unsure what to do. She put a paw on him. “Kent will get over it. We’ll be back in the house before dinner time,” she reassured, but it only seemed to make the kid cry harder. She curled up around Junior and licked at an ear.
“I–I don’t want to go back,” he sobbed brokenly.
“What? The house?”
“N-no. The shelter!”
Oh. Oh! “Don’t be silly,” she said. “Kent’s not going to take you back to the shelter.”
Junior was silent and Kit thought she’d succeeded in convincing the kid, but then he quietly confessed, “I’ve been taken back before.”
Kit stilled her grooming. “By Kent?” she asked, baffled.
“No, before,” he squeaked. “I– I needed to use the bathroom in the middle of the night and I didn’t make it in time.”
“So, you peed in the house?”
“On the new carpet!” Junior admitted shamefully. “They took me back the next day and said I wasn’t what they were looking for.”
“Okay, listen,” Kit said forcefully as she sat up. “Kent is not going to take you back to the shelter because you accidentally broke something or pee on the carpet. Trust me. I’ve broken lots of stuff and he’s still kept me around.”
“Really?” Junior asked.
“I’ve pushed his mug off the table because I wanted to see what would happen.”
“It broke.” She shook her head. “But that’s not the point. You’re part of the family now, and Kent’s not going to get rid of you. You belong here.” Kit could have kept going (it was her best speech yet), but then the door opened and Kent came into the garage.
“Hey buddy, hey princess” Kent said as he pulled Junior and Kit into his lap. “Sorry I yelled. I was a little mad.” He kissed the top of Junior’s fluffy head, and Junior gave him a big lick in return, all previous transgressions forgotten. “Let’s go back in,” he said.
Later, just as Kit was falling asleep, she heard the jingle of Junior’s tags coming up behind her. She braced herself to be rudely awoken again, but instead, he flopped down beside her. “I’ve always wanted a family,” he whispered reverently before laying his head down so that she was tucked under her chin. “A family,” he muttered again before Kit drifted off.
To celebrate Supernatural’s 15th season, the producers have decided to hold a contest to cast an unknown in a recurring role as Sam’s rumored love interest. They are doing open casting calls all over the country. Your best friend Nikki wants to go and she drags you along.
A/N: My inspiration for Nikki is the one and only Red, @oriona75 . So I’m actually telling two stories here, Jared and Y/N’s, and Sam and Gemini’s. It flips back and forth, so try and keep up! :)
Characters: Reader, Best friend Nikki (OC), Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles, Misha Collins, Mark Sheppard, Cliff, Emily (OC) other Supernatural cast and crew
Dr. Jenkins came running up to the set. Emily had regained consciousness but was very disoriented. I was holding her hand and talking to her softly to try to keep her calm. He knew I was a nurse so he asked me to give him a report. I kept it brief. “She’s 37 weeks pregnant. Gestational diabetes. Started seizing. I tested her sugar, it was 500. She told me her blood pressure has been running high lately.”
The EMT’s had arrived and Dr. Jenkins filled them in. We all stood around while they did a quick assessment. Jared came up next to me and held my hand while we waited. They loaded Emily on to the gurney in preparation to take her to the hospital.
“Do you need someone to go with her? I’ll go.” I told them.
“I’m sorry Y/N, but we have to get this episode in the can today. You still have scenes to shoot. Dr. Jenkins can go with Emily.” Phil said.
I opened my mouth to protest, but a warning elbow in the ribs from Nikki made me shut it. Oh yeah. I’m not a nurse now, I’m an actress. The show comes first. I flashed Phil a smile. “No problem, Phil. I understand, the show must go on.”
Ah God, my brain just went full-blown angst for this I’M SORRY
Pre-relationship - set in the bad future during In Hushed Whispers.
*Warning for character death*
As they continued their trek through Redcliffe Castle, Arian knew she’d forever be grateful if she never came across the sight of dark brick or red parasitic crystals ever again.
She and Dorian had found Cassandra and Bull, both locked away in cells in the lower levels of the fortress, and had also retrieved Leliana - who went silent after initially being rescued by them.
Now, they made their way back to the upper levels of the castle - before a raspy sound stopped them in their tracks.
“Do you hear that?” Cassandra asked, turning her head toward a specific corridor. Upon moving closer, Arian could make out a deep but scratchy voice - murmuring something continuous.
“C’mon,” the elf ordered the rest of the group, who followed her to a chamber filled with more rows of cells.
“Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter. Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just…” came the voice from the furthest cell, and Arian felt her heart sink into the pit of her gut.
No, it can’t be.
When she reached the cell, she found her worst fears realized. There, sitting on the floor, was Cullen - bound in place by a large crystal of red lyrium growing out of his leg and into the floor.
“Cullen!” she gasped, throwing open the door to the cell without a single thought. Quickly she hurried to his side, kneeling down and taking his face between her palms. His cheeks were sunken in and pale, his eyes dark from absence of rest. Even so, when he met her line of sight his expression brightened, then shifted to confusion.
“What? No… this is… this is another illusion. You died. They said you were blown to pieces…”
Arian shook her head fiercely, tears slipping free and running down her cheeks. “No, Cullen, I’m alive. Alexius sent me through time.” To prove her point, she reached for one of his hands and raised it to settle on her cheek, offering him a gentle smile. The man let out a shaky breath, his thumb weakly stroking at the curve of her cheekbone.
“You are alive… Arian,” he muttered, then cracked a small smile. “Oh, Maker… my prayers have been answered.”
“How are you here?” Leliana, breaking her silence, asked in alarm from the cell’s entrance. Cullen attempted to sit up to see her better, but just hissed in pain and slunk back down.
“After you came here, Josephine and I rallied what armies we could to infiltrate the castle. We launched three failed attacks before they charged us. They killed everyone they came across. Josephine managed to get the remainder to safety at my expense. They surrounded me on all sides. I’ve been here since.”
“Cullen…” Arian whimpered, admiring the fact that he had given everything to see the Inquisition safe. Slowly his eyes rose to meet hers again, and his brow furrowed slightly.
“Please don’t cry, Arian,” he whispered, and offered the brightest smile he could manage. “I’m content. I got to see you again, even if it took forever. Time… it passes slower without you.”
Arian sniffled, shaking her head. “Don’t talk like that. We’re going to get you out of here. We have to.”
Cullen just laughed, the sound hoarse and squeaky. “I don’t have much time, Arian. The lyrium… it grows quicker with templars. I’d rather die now than become an abomination. If you would…”
The elf, now sobbing brokenly, violently shook her head. “Please, don’t ask me to do that. I can’t… you don’t understand…”
Cullen’s hand slid from her cheek and into the hair at the nape of her neck, urging her forward until their foreheads came to rest against one another. In this position, she could see right into his soft amber eyes - could make out the pain and fear intermingling within.
“Please,” he begged of her, and her eyes clenched shut as she shakily reached for the dagger in her belt, knowing he was suffering.
As her eyes slowly opened again, part of her was thankful that her flood of tears had blurred Cullen’s face from view. She rose the dagger to his throat, and heaved a breathless sob.
“I promise I’ll fix this, ma vhenan. I promise.Dareth shiral,” she whispered, and then quickly slashed the dagger across his flesh.
Within moments, Cullen’s eyes peacefully shut, his last breath gargled but calm. His bony hand slowly fell from her head back to his side and Arian collapsed into him, sobbing into the tattered shirt covering his chest.
Once she had calmed, she rose onto her knees and pressed a lingering kiss to Cullen’s forehead, then roughly stood to her feet.
“Alexius will die,” she roared outright, making a beeline out of the cell and toward the upper level of the fortress.
Her companions, silent as the grave, obediently followed suit.
Likes and reblogs appreciated ^^; here’s my angst for the year lmao
alright, how to do this. Since i was 12 my favorite author has always been Terry Pratchett. His Tiffany Aching series shaped who i am today, and i hold his writing above all other writing. i always fantasized about meeting him and telling him how much his writing meant to me and how grateful i was. And then he died the day before my 17th birthday. and god, i wept. i completely broke down. it took me a while to recover, and even longer to find the words, but i wrote him this letter, and i thought i’d put it by the terry pratchett memorial next time i came to london (i live in denmark), but by the time i came the memorial had been painted over. and so this letter has been sitting in my documents folder for a long time, and i feel like that iis wrong. i need to put it out there somewhere in the world - even if its just for closure. i watched the BBC documentary ‘back in black’ recently and i got the idea to publish the letter here, so i may live to regret this but here it comes; my badly
written, far too long letter to a man who will never read it:
Dear Sir Terry Pratchett,
I don’t really know why I’m writing
this letter. As things are, you’ll never read it, and even if you could, I
don’t know if I’d dare give it to you. Or if I’d even dare approach you. You
see (and you’ll probably disagree/dislike me for this/get miffed about this),
you rank frighteningly high on my list of natural forces, my hierarchy of
deities. You probably wouldn’t like that, rather a rising ape than a fallen
angel, but that is how it is. I believe in a god, but you are closer to him in
my accounts than you will ever be to me. Maybe that’s wrong, don’t put your
heroes on pedestals and whatnot, but I don’t think I can stop it now. It’s just
how it is. So I don’t really know why I’m writing this letter, or if anyone
will ever read it, but I think I needed to do it. Get out all the things I will
never get a chance to tell you. Very human, isn’t it?
one night, a little girl appears in the hokage tower with a puff of smoke. she’s scared and shaking and painfully silent. her clothes are dirty, her knees and palms are scraped, and marking her wide forehead is a poke of blood with red streaking down from it.
he has never met this girl in person, but he knows her the moment she meets his eyes. after all, he spent so many years looking into the features that made up her own.
naruto stands and moves around his desk and approaches her slowly, cautiously, careful not to frighten her anymore than she seems. when he’s finally in front of her, he moves down to his knees and he smiles despite the worry swelling in his gut.
“hello,” he says calmly enough. “i’m naruto. i’m a friend of your parents. you must be sarada.”
❝ – THE MYSTERIOUS;; patterns of thought generated in a mind let free of its conscious shackles ranged in vast differences between each human being. Between the lines of a mind gifted of dreaming imagery and a fully fabricated reality, it was no surprise that nightmares slipped past the bounds of one’s waking mental resistance to tarnish what might have been a peaceful slumber. A shift beside a slumbering form only tugged Gladiolus slightly out of his body’s slowed pace, a soft breath escaping parted lips when the comfort of rest beckoned the Shield to slip away- but the sudden press of weight on the tank’s chest made amber eyes flutter open in a momentary disorient, vision adjusting to the dark only to be greeted by the worn barrel of a pistol resting just above the creases of a scarred forehead. A previously steady pulse kicked up into a quicker tempo the very second assessment of the situation told him danger, wide emotional eyes shifting towards the stoic and numb gaze in Prompto’s seaside blue irises, Gladiolus swallowing thickly while remaining completely frozen in his previous position. Collecting phrases carefully, the Guardsmen gently spoke of their first day in Hammerhead with calm recollection in attempt to give the photographer an anchor in which to resurface to reality, a bloom of relief flooding Gladio’s senses when he saw the focusing of the other man’s gaze and the very abrupt springing fear that followed soon after, calloused hands carefully removing the weapon from the Starshell’s quaking grip. Pulling Prompto into the security of his arms, Gladiolus felt the absolute terror and regret the blonde began sobbing brokenly about as a soothing “shhh,” shattered the electric silence of the room, amber eyes closing in remorse as he felt the sharpshooter hiccup and tremble with resistance of his urge to run from the lover he nearly shot, freckled hands balled into fists as the blonde tried in vain attempt to apologize past the pain searing in his throat. “It’s alright.. Just breathe.” A steady hand reached up to cradle the back the photographer’s head of messy golden locks while the brush of the cool nighttime’s breeze filtering through the propped window felt stark against the heat radiating away from Prompto’s flushed and freckled cheeks, the King’s Shield rocking ever slightly to offer comfort where he could give it. “You’re safe.” – ❞
Taehyung x Reader Rating: M Tags: Smut, Fluff, BDSM, Dom/sub, spanking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, punishments, Taehyung is very much NOT a lighthearted Dom in this story okay he’s very… strict.
Summary: In which you try to be Taehyung’s good girl, really you do…
AKA Taehyung’s gone for ten days and you’re going crazy, so maybe you break one of his rules…just a little.
It’s been ten days since Taehyung left for his
business trip, and ten days since you’ve been able to touch, taste, feel him.
(Inspired by “I’d rather drown” by Set it Off. If you enjoyed this fic and have prompts for ships like H2ovanoss or Minicat or Terrornuckel leave them in my inbox and I’ll write as much as I can!)
“I can’t trust you.”
Four words that Jonathan wanted to say. He had to. But his heart is stopping him from doing it, so he just sat at the bar of some club near his house and started downing two shots of vodka. He needed to forget the feelings he suffered, the feelings that he sadly caught, the feelings that were bound to hurt him again after a long period of peace.
Hint the oc is me.This is kinda paired with the post I made earlier you don’t need to read that to read this. But due to the nature of this with the self harm and such I am okay if you don’t read it and skip over it for those who I tagged and those who come across it on my dash. It’s more for my personal relief to get it out of me. I did not fall to self harm today, despite I had moments of it but I didn’t. (go me) I don’t go into super detail about the wounds or blood if you are curious, it’s more of the raw emotions and feels of it all.
“She’s done it again.” Noctis said softly, padding out of the bathroom of a hotel in Lestallum.
“What?” Gladiolus’ voice was first to rise from the quietness of the calm night, it had been a long day of them traveling around they needed a break from this havoc.
“Her legs. . .it’s bad.” The young prince said softly, wiping some blood off of his hands.
“Is that blood?” Prompto asked, putting his phone down, blue eyes wide with shock.
The King’s Shield was up to his feet in moments once he saw the blood on Noctis, it wasn’t his but his girlfriend’s blood. His heart beating madly in his chest as he made it past Noctis moving to the bathroom looking in the small room. Noctis had her wrapped up in one of the softest towels her pale legs, covered in blood as she was shaking terribly.
“I thought she was doing better?” Gladiolus whispered as his heart was pounding in his chest, not knowing what to do, it broke his heart to see her like this.
“I thought so…she’s been smiling a lot so I thought things were better.” Prompto replied softly, not wanting her to hear, to feel guilty about it he understood what was bothering her.
“This is ridiculous…” Gladiolus muttered darkly under his breath as he pushed into the bathroom as Ignis came back into the room.
Author’s Note: This chapter is a little heavy. Leave me comments pleeeeeease. I thrive off of them and it pushes me to write the next chapter. Also, here’s the link to Joe’s Pensacola Gulf home.
Warnings: If anyone is sensitive to domestic violence or sexual assault, please skip this chapter. Ivy reveals a past attempted assault and I don’t want to trigger any survivors. Definitely smut. Daddy kink.
The soft chime of his cell phone woke Joe up the next morning. He smiled and gently pulled Ivy closer. Her body was tangled with his, her leg brushing against his morning wood. He reached over and grabbed the phone, wanting to make sure it wasn’t something important. In his sleep-fogged brain, it took him a second to realize that he’d grabbed his girlfriend’s phone and not his own. There was a missed call and a text, both from an unknown number. Joe frowned as he read the message on the screen:
“YOU’VE BEEN A BAD GIRL.”
Joe glanced down at Ivy before quietly sitting the phone back down. Who the fuck was texting his girlfriend?
“What’s wrong, baby?”
Lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t even realized that Ivy was no longer asleep against his chest. She stared curiously up at him with sleepy green eyes.
“Nothing, baby girl. I heard the phone and it woke me up.”
She reached up and stroked his cheek softly with one finger.
Ivy reached over him and grabbed her cell, wondering what had him so worked up. She felt the blood drain from her face when she saw the text message on her screen. Nausea built in her belly as she blocked the number and tossed the phone back on the dresser.
“Baby, who was that?”
She sat up, clutching the sheet against her bare breasts, running a hand through her hair in frustration.
“If it was no one, you wouldn’t be reacting to a text like this.”
He watched emotions flicker across her beautiful face, his arms crossed across his broad chest.
“If I tell you, you’ll look at me differently.”
Her words were whispered and pained, and she refused to make eye contact with him.
“I won’t, baby. I hate seeing you like this. What’s wrong??”
Pain. Dizziness. Exhaustion. It’s all you feel the second you open your eyes, your face pressed into your suddenly too soft sheets. A throbbing headache pulses in your temples and you groan as you lift your head off the pillow. Your brain feels all jumbled up.
Shit, you think. What the hell happened?
You push yourself up off the bed but you feel shaky and weak and your head instantly swims the second you stand. You sway and lean against the bed and groan in pain as the dizziness hits you in waves. You hear Layla laughing in the next room, loud and piercing; her shrieking giggles feel like shards of glass stabbing your skull but then, you hear heavy footsteps coming to your door, and then a gentle knock on the wood.
Just in case you don't already have a Hunk and Lance hug prompt, I'm putting one in. How about a post-rescue thank you for saving me hug? If you already have a Hunk and Lance, feel free to delete this. :D
This is probably not what you had in mind when you said ‘rescue’ but I felt like writing angst, so hopefully that’s alright. :P
Hunk kept his arms around Lance, pinning his friend’s hands to his sides while Lance thrashed and writhed in his arms, trying to bite or scratch or lash out against him. "Come on, Lance!“ he gasped, struggling to get the words out as he fought to keep control over his friend, “I know you’re in there. I know it.”
If Lance was in there, it was only behind whatever Haggar had done to him to make his eyes glow yellow. He’d tried to kill them all, and if Hunk let go, he’d try again. Hunk could see it, in the yellow gleam visible every time Lance twisted his face toward him, and he could feel it in the desperation Lance fought him with, but he couldn’t let go. He couldn’t.
He didn’t know how long they were standing like that, his arms around his best friend, Lance struggling and cursing and hissing and screaming and spitting and trying to bite him, but it was too long and his throat got sore from begging Lance to come to his senses, but he didn’t let go. He didn’t let go, and then all of a sudden whatever this was had run its course and Lance slumped in his arms, eyes falling shut.
He couldn’t let go. Not now. Not yet. Not until he knew. "Lance?“ he asked, voice coming out hoarse and tentative.
His best friend shuddered in his arms, so hard he could feel it running through his own body. Lance’s eyes opened and were blessedly, reassuringly blue again. "H-Hunk?”
Lance’s voice sounded awful, too, hoarse and terrible, and Hunk’s heart seized up a little at how broken he sounded.
“Yeah, it’s me. Are you back to us now?”
Lance burst into tears, sobbing raggedly and buckling even farther, so that Hunk’s grip on him was the only thing keeping him upright. He was crying too hard to talk, and Hunk rearranged his grip to free Lance’s hands.
As soon as Lance had room to move, he whirled around, fast enough to make Hunk’s heart race with fear, but then Lance’s arms were around his neck and his friend was sobbing brokenly into his shoulder and Hunk could calm down again.
He wasn’t sure what to say. "Lance, I-“
Lance cried harder, arms tightening around Hunk’s neck until Hunk realized how much Lance needed comforting right now and responded in kind, adjusting what had been a desperate attempt to restrain Lance into a real hug that left him a free hand to rub Lance’s back with.
Lance clung to him until he could get words out again, stuttering, gasping ones that sounded painful. ”Quiznak, Hunk, I - I almost - oh God.“
Hunk rubbed his back. "It’s ok, Lance. It’s ok. You didn’t.”
“I could have - I can’t -”
“I’m ok. We’re all ok. It’s ok.”
Lance let out another sharp, gasping sob, his arms going slack around Hunk’s neck as he pressed his face harder into his shoulder. ”Hunk,” he said, like that was enough, or maybe like it was all he could manage.
Hunk squeezed him tightly again. "I know. I know. But you didn’t hurt us, and we’re ok, and it’s gonna be ok.”
He remembered being mind controlled. He remembered coming to and realizing he’d been trying to hurt Lance. But he mostly remembered the end of it, not the things that had happened during. He got the feeling Haggar’s magic wasn’t so kind. When he relaxed his grip on Lance, the other boy seemed to be trying to fold in on himself, pulling his arms down from around Hunk’s neck and curling them up against his chest. Hunk almost let go of the hug, but then Lance grabbed at the front of his shirt, gripping it in his fists, and he knew not to.
“I don’t think a-any of those awful things I said about you,” Lance said, still leaning his forehead into Hunk’s shoulder.
“I know you don’t.” He hadn’t been sure, but it was magic, so he’d been pretty sure. He’d hoped Lance didn’t mean those things, even deep down. He wished he could trust that he didn’t, but trust was hard when he was trying to trust that other people liked him.
Lance looked up, meeting Hunk’s eyes with his watery blue ones. They were red, like his nose, and Hunk suddenly realized that Lance had probably gotten snot on his shirt. That was ok, though. Hunk didn’t think he minded.
“I mean it, Hunk. They’re not just things I’d never say. They’re not true. Not a single one of them.”
Hunk smiled. "Thanks, Lance.”
Lance leaned into Hunk’s shoulder again, turning his face sideways to tuck his head closer to Hunk’s neck than before. Hunk let him make his adjustments, keeping his arms around him. They were silent for a few more heartbeats before Lance spoke again.
“I had no idea how hard it was,” he said reflectively, “Like, I thought it was pretty hard fighting you when you got mind controlled and I’m pretty sure I was an asshole about that, after, but I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
“It’s ok,” Hunk answered. He suspected Lance had had it worse than he had. He hoped it wasn’t true, but - sometimes you just knew these things, and he suspected Lance had had it worse.
Lance shook his head, like he knew Hunk was lying, but Hunk didn’t think Lance knew that the not-ok part was watching him hurt like this, and not the other thing. He’d only tried to kill Lance a little bit. Lance had tried to kill him a lot. And he’d said bad things, and all those things had hurt, but not like watching Lance this upset did.
He half wondered what that said about him. But it wasn’t like Lance could say anything much worse than the things he thought about himself sometimes, on bad days when everything he did was dumb and all of his ideas were stupid and no one had any reason to like him and everything was on the edge of being awful. Now it was just awful for Lance, and that was harder to take, somehow.
“Thanks for saving me,” Lance whispered, “I don’t know what I would have done if I’d-”
Hunk shook his head, “I’d never have let you.”
“I know. But thanks.”
Hunk wasn’t sure he was going to be ready to let go of Lance for a while, and Lance’s grip on his shirt didn’t show any signs of relaxing, so he just let them slump to the floor, still holding tightly to each other, and waited for the storm to pass. Lance would feel better eventually. And then he would, too.
Hunk thought he should probably open the door he’d slammed shut when Lance got violent, or at least say something to their teammates on the other side, to let them know everything was ok. But he didn’t think Lance would want them to see him this way, and he didn’t think Lance was ready to face them yet, and he didn’t say anything. The others could wait. But he gave a thumbs up at the camera in the corner, just in case Pidge was watching, and he let Lance doze off against his chest.
Summary: Reader is currently deployed in the army to an undisclosed combat area. She has been deployed for nearly two years. Anxiously awaiting her return is her husband and brother as they film for Supernatural. Letter comes informing the family that she may not be heard from for awhile and soon devastating news comes.
Characters: husband!Jensen x Reader, Jared x Reader (Twins), Gen, Shepherd and Thomas.
Disclaimer: I do not own the title of the song Travelin’ Soldier by the Dixie Chicks at all. I simply thought it could be a little fighting. Not hate towards Danneel either, as this is simply fiction and not real.
Warnings: possible swearing, angst and war.
A/N: This simply came to me. I may write a part two but if you want one let us know. Enjoy!
It was that time again when the homesickness took over her completely, it would nearly shatter her when it with such unforgiving power. The heat was getting to her, her eyes felt like sand would always be inside her sockets. She could literally taste the sand whenever she remotely smiled at her fellow comrades when the pitch of darkness didn’t swallow them whole. Her hands were cracked but the special ointment was used scarcely for when it was truly needed.
She was staring at the blank paper in front of her waiting for the pen in her hand to move. She didn’t know how she could manage to even write the first bit. Y/N felt that if she procrastinated writing the letter then maybe time would stop and she wouldn’t have to imagine the gut wrenching expressions that would come on her families faces.
The Sergeant had graciously allowed each of his soldiers to write a letter to their loved ones informing of the lack of communication soon. They were going to be radio silent to keep their position silent as they came close to their enemies. The war had brought Y/N to the sandy desert on a different continent than her home. Slowly allowing one tear to fall, she began writing.
I know must be a special occasion to hear from me more than once this month! I want you to know that I received the pictures of the boys. They’ve grown so much since I last saw them, I can’t wait to hug Shep and Tom. They’ll be the first ones I promise. I don’t have time to write you each individual letters given the reason why I’m writing right now. So I’ll split the paragraphs and keep it short.
Tom and Shep. I hope you’re doing well and behaving! I heard that Tom’s been telling his friends who his hero is. I will admit I cried when you wrote about it bud. You’ll never know so special it feels when you’re nephew announces that his Aunt is his hero. Shep, I know you probably don’t entirely remember given how long I’ve been gone on this tour. When I last saw you in person you were going just beginning to walk! I expect to see you running when you see me next. I’m holding you to it. I love you boys.
Jared, how’s my twin doing lately? I heard about the new season from Jensen and Gen. Damn, you’ve carved out a really nice career. I’m doing okay, still have all my limbs in place if you were wondering. Oh! A new soldier arrived a while back and you wouldn’t believe his name! Samuel Campbell. It blew my mind at how quick my mind went to your character on Supernatural. What are the odds huh? Anyway I hope Gen is okay. I really miss you guys. You wouldn’t believe how much and I’m coming home. I don’t know when but I will come home I promise. See you soon.
Gen! Congratulations on the pregnancy! I’m so excited for you and Jared. The ultrasound was sweet and I loved it. The one thing that got me the most was the picture you sent of the boys kissing you’re belly on each side. The message on the front was beautiful, ‘Aunt Y/N I can’t wait to meet you!’. God I wish I was there so much to help you get everything ready when Jared is filming. To help with the boys. I’m coming home as soon as I can.
Jensen, how. It’s been a rollercoaster the last five years with you. I hope you can forgive me for not being there on Valentine’s Day, your birthday, and my birthday. It killed me when I was informed my time was extended. Nearly two years have passed since I last saw you. I love you so much. You will never know how much and I’m so honoured to have met you, and married you. I’m making a promise to you. The minute I get home, we’re going to begin that family we’ve talked about for years. I miss you.
God the ending of this letter has come. I hate the ending of letters because it means ‘I have work to do’, don’t hate me for the reference haha. Anyway I began the letter talking about a special occasion and it’s probably made you sad and curious. My unit is being moved to an undisclosed area closer to enemy lines. I’ll admit the danger is definitely a lot higher given that after this letter I won’t receive anymore nor will I make anymore until we get back. Don’t worry. The unit’s done this before, which I was just given the go to tell you, and it’s second nature almost. I love you guys and I’ll see you soon.
You’re aunt, sister, wife.
The day was nice out, the boys were running around in the backyard while Gen, showing now, stood in the kitchen finishing lunch. There was soft music playing in the background as she would glance out the window to see Shep and Tom on the jungle gym they had. Jared and Jensen were finishing filming, it was the last day for this year, and were due back soon. Today was more of a celebratory brunch.
“Tag! You’re it!” Shep screamed racing away from his older brother.
Gen smiled remembering the time when Tom had coerced Y/N into playing tag a couple weeks before she was deployed. She could remember as Y/N and Jared swore up a storm putting the jungle gym together one hot summer day.
“Son of a bitch!” Y/N screamed waving her hand around.
“You alright?” Jared laughed watching the pain on his twin sister’s face dissipate.
“Fine. Jesus thank god we’re done with this.” Y/N stated stepping back from their masterpiece.
“Give a year or two and we’ll be putting one up in your backyard.” Jared teased. He quickly frowned at how tense Y/N went at his words and how the atmosphere grew uncomfortable, “Are you okay?”
“Jensen and I talked about kids.” Y/N muttered staring at nothing in particular, “It blew into a fight a couple days ago. We’ve been avoided each other, he’s been staying with his sister the last couple of days.”
“That’s why he isn’t here.” Jared hummed, “What happened.”
“We fought about me being deployed. He was pretty upset and so am I. We said some nasty things, he brought up wanting a family and I shot it down. I want kids. I do, but I don’t want them to wonder when their mom is coming home. I see how torn Tom is and he’s not that old nor is he my kid!”
“I’m so sorry.” Jared said pulling her into his arms.
“He said he didn’t know if he could see a life without the possibility of kids.” Y/N sobbed brokenly, “Next thing I know he’s screaming that maybe kids would a horrible idea with my job.”
“He didn’t mean it. You’ll work it out.”
“Jared. I got the date I’m leaving.” Y/N whispered with tears welling up again, “I leave on Monday.”
“What?” Jared’s voice broke, “Does he know?”
“No. He won’t answer the phone. I got a text early this morning telling me that his phone would be off and he needed a couple days.” Y/N replied, “I leave in two days and my husband refused to talk to me.”
“Excuse me.” Jared’s voice broke striding into the house leaving Y/N on the ground broken.
Gen vividly remembered Jared’s voice telling his brother-in-law that Y/N was hurt badly. It didn’t take even half an hour before Jensen was in the backyard sobbing when he found out how long he had with his wife. She had never seen someone regret something that much.
She heard the knock on the door so she called out for a moment before waving the boys inside. Once Shep and Tom were in the living room with colouring books she walked to the front door, she had expected Jared is he had forgot his key. Her smile dropped at the two men in uniform.
“Mrs. Padalecki, we’ve been forwarded information to give to you. It was brought to our attention that you’re husband and Mr. Ackles work specifically during these months. We were informed that if something happened to Y/N during these months we were to come straight to you.” One of the men said handing over a letter.
“Mommy? Who’s at the door?” Gen’s youngest son asked. Gen cleared her throat looking back.
“Honey, go colour with Shep okay?” She smiled watching in thanks as Shep shrugged and walked back to the living room, “Come on it.”
The men followed her towards the kitchen watching as the pregnant woman shakily made herself some tea. They both shook their heads at her offer of refreshments.
“Gen?” Jared’s confused voice called. Jensen and him had walked up to the house seeing the nondescript car parked outside, “Is something wrong?”
Jared and Jensen stopped in the doorway seeing a barely holding it together pregnant woman and two uniformed men standing awkwardly at the counter. Jared and Jensen’s faces dropped at the letter clutched between Gen’s fingers.
“Mr Ackles. Mr Padalecki.” The taller of the two men said solemnly, “Now that you’ve joined we would like to offer our condolences at this time.”
Shep and Tom peeked around the corner watching the adults interact with each other, their mom and dad collapsed into each other while their Uncle Jensen fell to the ground. The boys were confused but watched as the two men walked to the front door smiling at the young boys.
“She co-could still be alive right?” Jensen’s voice cracked.
It had been a long time since Y/N’s last letter and they had been itching to hear from her again, it was shock to learn that Y/N was now considered MIA. Her unit had come back severely injured with one Y/N Ackles missing. In the weeks following the discovery the army had been tirelessly looking for to no avail.
The family of Y/N couldn’t believe the news nor did they believe that she was gone. She was out there, Jensen knew it.
A/N am I a terrible human? Do you want another part?
Okay but like can we go back to the Nymph AU? And like what happens if a natural disaster hits? Like a wildfire or a tornado? Do Zhenya and Sasha run into the burning forest to grab their nymphs? How out of their mind with worry are they? Or maybe do they wake up to Sid, Nicky, and Carl (along with assorted woodland creatures) at their doorstep in need of a safe place to stay? And how devastated are the nymphs?
The forest is burning. Sir Kessel has rode ahead back to the castle with Hagelin, who’s staring back at the flames in horror. Sasha found Nicklas near the southern part of the meadow, trying to coax sobbing dryads to leave their trees and flee, and picked up a couple of stragglers as well.
“Where’s Sidney?” Evgeni shouts. The roaring of the fire crackles and spits, and another tree falls in the distance.
“He’s near the river,” Nicklas says, just as Sasha hauls him up on his horse. “He’s trying to convince the river spirit to spare his water for the forest.”
“He’s not going to make it,” a dryad cries. “He’s too far, and the river has not willingly shared its waters with forest folk for two centuries.”
“Fuck,” Evgeni says, turning his horse away towards the direction of the river. “Sasha, take the dryads and tell the other knights to pick up anyone they find along the way.”
“Zhenya, where do you think you’re headed to?” Sasha shouts, as Evgeni rides off.
“Sid!” Evgeni screams. “Sid, where are you?”
“Zhenya?” Sidney’s voice calls back, sounding small and afraid. “Zhenya, I’m here!”
Evgeni looks around frantically until he spies Sidney among the reeds. He dismounts and runs, meeting Sidney halfway in a bone-crushing embrace.
“He’s gone,” Sidney whispers. “The river spirit is gone. I can’t redirect the water. I can’t–”
“Sidney, let’s go–”
“I can’t leave,” Sidney says stubbornly. “If the forest dies, I’ll die with it.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit. Nicklas and Hagelin have already left,” Evgeni roars. “We have to go too!”
“My home is burning,” Sidney shouts, nearly hysterical. His eyes are wild, jumping from Evgeni’s face to the flames licking at the sky. “I–I have nowhere to go, what am I going to–”
“Oh, Sid.” He gathers Sidney into his arms and lets Sidney sob brokenly. “Sid, you always have a home with me. Sidney, we can replant the trees, the whole kingdom will help. Will be okay. Shh, I promise, will be okay. But have to get out first, have to be alive, most important thing.”
Sidney sniffles and wipes his eyes. “Okay,” he says softly. “Okay, let’s go.”
Dude, I don’t know why you’re so masochistic, but here you go.
22. Things you said after it was over
Waverly slings her bag over her shoulder.
“Wave, the least you could do is stick around while she packs up her stuff. This is Nicole we’re talking about.”
“Wynonna.” Waverly turns to face her sister, her back to the front door. Her knuckles are white around the strap of her bag, her voice is strained to breaking. “I can’t.”
“Baby girl, I know that’s what it feels like, but she’s leaving, and this might be the last time–” The look on Waverly’s face knocks Wynonna back a step. She holds up her hands in surrender. “I’m just saying that this is your chance to tell her goodbye.”
Waverly draws her lips into a fine line. Her eyes flash. “She’s leaving me. Do you get that? She’s choosing to go.”
“I do, and it sucks, but–”
“But what, Wynonna? It’s been three weeks since she’s spoken to me. She’s–” Waverly closes her eyes and takes a breath through her nose. “She was everything to me.”
A.N: Last bit of super angst before things start getting cute. Apologies for taking so long to get to the point HAHAHA! </3 This is just how I write my long fictions… they do tend to drag on a little. This fic seems like it’s gonna get a little longer than initially planned because I plan on including a lot of crudely appropriated child protection stuff into this fic (because it’s obviously my passion xD).
But yeah- hope those who are reading this enjoy the angst and confusion! :D Oh and also- all knowing Ignis *especially about the soulmate stuff* is inspired by @nifwrites and her characterisation of him in her soulmate AU’ We Intertwined’ :)
It was around one in the morning when Prompto had
mustered up enough energy to slip out of bed and pad towards Claudia’s assigned
bed. His mother had absolutely refused
to let her son out of bed despite his desperation to see his best friend. In
fact, Tobias had to press Prompto down gently by the shoulders onto his own
stiff hospital mattress as he struggled against his father’s grip. They’d told
him that he was still weak- and that
seeing Claudia in her state would be more upsetting than uplifting.