#{ HELLO HI!! :D thanks so much for this i'm happy i finally got to it ;u; also jfie under read more because it is. real chonky

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Hello everyone! I'm back with another Merlin au idea! This story was actually supposed to be a part of my fic "What to do When an Eldritch God Decides That You're Friend-Shaped", but I decided that this idea didn't really mesh well with the rest of that fic and would probably be better off as its own separate story.

And I will say, in my opinion, that this is probably one of my best au ideas yet. I had so much fun just writing this! Also, heads up, this post is going to be very long because I really love this idea! So, I hope you all enjoy! :D

In this au, which is set post-Camlann, Morgana wasn't able to take Merlin's magic away before the battle, so Merlin was able to save Arthur and defeat both Mordred and Morgana without revealing his magic. He was also able to prevent Gwaine's death since he kept Morgana preoccupied in the battle. So, Camelot is saved, and everything is great!

Except, Arthur has some questions. He knows from Morgana's furious screams during the battle that she was killed by a sorcerer named "Emrys", but Arthur never saw him. And Arthur recognized that name from when Morgana taunted him years ago by saying "Not even Emrys can save you now."

Arthur knows that he owes his kingdom and perhaps his life to this Emrys guy, but he knows nothing about him other than that he's a very powerful sorcerer, more powerful than Morgana. This frightens Arthur, as he doesn't know what Emrys wants or why he helps Arthur. For all Arthur knows, Emrys could be just biding his time to take over Camelot and was simply doing away with his competition by killing Morgana.

After things calmed down after the battle of Camlann, Arthur decides that he needs more information on Emrys. Who he is, what are his motives, how can they find him, and a million other details that Arthur needs to ensure his people's safety. He first goes to Gaius for information, but Gaius can tells him that, according to the myths of the Old Religion, Emrys is the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth and is held in high regard by the druids.

Gaius's answer only heightens Arthur's alarm, as the prospect of having to fight to most powerful sorcerer ever is terrifying to him. However, he still doesn't have any good information on Emrys, so he goes to the next best source: the druids.

Thanks to Arthur making peace with the druids after promising the ghost of the young druid boy and permitting them to use their magic for peaceful purposes only, there were a couple druid camps not far from Camelot. Arthur picked the closer one and took a day to travel there alongside Merlin and a few knights in the hopes of finally getting some answers.

When they arrive at the camp, they're met with worried glances and panicked faces, but the druid elders welcome them into the camp nonetheless, offering them all a seat by their campfire and warm meal. Once they got settled and Arthur exchanged some pleasantries with Iseldir, the druid chieftain, Arthur was finally able to ask what had been plaguing him for weeks.

"Iseldir, I know that your people hold a sorcerer named Emrys in high regard, and it's come to my attention that he was responsible for Morgana's defeat at Camlann and possibly on other occasions. Please, I need to know more about him and why he's chosen to help me."

Several people froze and tensed at Arthur's questions, including Merlin. Arthur sighed internally at Merlin's usual panic. He knew that Merlin could become easily scared in the face of magic, so he should have knows that his friend wouldn't approve of Arthur actively seeking out a dangerous sorcerer.

After a short, tense pause, Iseldir clears his throat and responds.

"I'd be happy to answer some of your questions about the god of magic!"

Wait, did Arthur hear that correctly? God of magic?! Arthur, in his shock, blurted out,

"Emrys is a god?! I had heard that he was a powerful sorcerer, not some deity!"

Iseldir chuckled a bit before responding,

"Emrys is indeed the god of magic in the Old Religion, the son of the Triple Goddess herself! He is not simply the master of magic, but rather magic itself, its very incarnation!"

That... was a rather frightening prospect, and it confused Arthur even further. Why would magic itself fight against Morgana? Why take Arthur's side? And, perhaps more importantly, was Arthur going to have to fight a god in order to protect his kingdom?!

Iseldir continued before Arthur's hysterical thought could bubble up to the surface.

"As I said, I'm happy to answer your questions, but please know that there are some secrets that Emrys has entrusted our people with that we cannot divulge, and there are some truths that might be... difficult for you in particular."

Arthur frowned at Iseldir's answer, unsure of what to make of it.

"What do you mean it might be difficult for me in particular?"

Iseldir winced a bit, grimacing like he didn't know how to respond without warranting a negative response.

"Well, there are some elements of Emrys's story that intertwine with your own life in some ways that you might not expect or be ready to hear at this point. Your life and Emrys's are highly connected, King Arthur, even if you don't know the extent of it yet."

Arthur's eyes widened at this admission. His life was connected to this mysterious god of the old religion? How could that possibly be true? He had didn't even know that Emrys was a god until a few moments ago! However, as curious as he was about what Iseldir could be talking about, he had more pressing matters at hand.

"We can discuss how I am connected to Emrys later. For now, I need answers to more important questions. Why does Emrys help Camelot? What is he hoping to get out of it?"

Iseldir looked much happier to answer this question, speaking calmly with a serene smile on his face.

"Emrys had many reasons to stand against the witch. She frequently hunted down and killed more peaceful magic users who did not share her taste for vengeance and bloodshed, including our fellow druids and even the Catha, a small sect of priests of the Old Religion that followed Emrys's will. Emrys fought against Morgana to protect these followers of his from her wrath."

Arthur nodded at Iseldir's explanation. As odd as it felt to have something in common with a god of the Old Religion, he could understand very well the drive to protect his own people. If Emrys's people were also in danger because of Morgana, it made sense for him to join forces with Arthur, even if Arthur was unaware of that alliance. Seeing Arthur's understanding, Iseldir continued with his explanation.

"Emrys also fought against Morgana in order to punish her for her hubris and use of dark magic. There are certain dark arts that take the power that Emrys grants us and twist it into a horrible force, bound only by the will of its user. Such arts are expressly forbidden by Emrys, and he cannot control what sorcerers do with such magic after its been corrupted so thoroughly. Morgana frequently used such forbidden arts and claimed the title of high priestess while ignoring the will of the gods, even the one that she drew her power from. Emrys is normally slow to anger, but for such transgressions, he became furious with Morgana and sought to punish her for treason against magic itself."

Arthur understood that a little bit less, but he could also relate to Emrys's reasoning as a king who had also had to punish some of his own citizens for treason.

"I can see that Emrys stood opposed to Morgana, but does Camelot have anything to fear from him? I can understand why he might not be very forgiving towards us considering my father's actions during his reign."

To Arthur's immense relief, Iseldir shook his head slightly before providing an explanation.

"No, Camelot has nothing to fear from Emrys. He knows that not everyone in Camelot agreed with your father's actions, and he can see progress that you've made since the end of your father's reign. In fact, Emrys has assisted Camelot many times even when Morgana wasn't involved!"

Arthur reeled backwards in shock at Iseldir words. The god of magic, helping Camelot freely? Despite everything his father had done?! Iseldir's explanation forced Arthur to re-evaluate what he knew of the Old Religion.

He had always seen the Old Religion and its gods as monstrous and barbaric. However, that wasn't the case, was it? Emrys had saved the kingdom that sought to destroy him. The Disir had shown Mordred mercy, even though Arthur had rejected their offer. The White Goddess had restored Guinevere's soul at the Cauldron of Arianrhod and healed her of Morgana's curse. Were all of the gods and goddesses of the Old Religion so benevolent and kind? Had Arthur misunderstood the Old Religion for his entire life?

However, Arthur was still shocked at Emrys in particular choosing to help Camelot, supposedly with no ulterior motives besides a common enemy in Morgana. That was how Camelot had survived against such odds? How could it be that magic itself was on their side?!

As Arthur looked at Iseldir again however, he noticed that the druid chieftain's face had pulled into a grimace again. Arthur certainly knew that look, he had seen it on the faces of his council members frequently.

"There's something that you aren't telling me, isn't there? I know that there are some things that you may be hesitant to divulge, but please, I must know everything I can about Emrys, for the safety of my kingdom."

Iseldir paused again, sighing deeply. He sat still for a moment, as if pondering how to proceed.

"Truthfully, there is another reason why Emrys assisted you, but it involves what I spoke of earlier, wen I said that your life and Emrys's are connected in ways that you may not expect. I am willing to tell you such things, but these truths might be hard for you to hear."

Arthur leaned forward, his curiosity piqued again.

"I have learned many uncomfortable truths about my own life through the years, so I will ask you: how could my life be connected to the god of magic?"

Iseldir nodded at Arthur's words and began speaking with a serious, nearly grim, voice.

"I assume that you are familiar with how life is exchanged in the practice of the Old Religion? For any life give, a life must be taken."

Arthur flinched backwards at Iseldir's words, already recognizing what topic was about to be brought up. He had come to terms with the truth of his birth years ago, but hearing it again didn't make it any easier. Blinking back tears, Arthur responded.

"Yes, I... I know. I'm aware that my father made a deal with the priestess Nimueh to secure an heir, and I know that my mother was the one who paid the price in the end."

Arthur heard quiet gasps coming from the knights around him, while Merlin silently put a comforting hand on Arthur's shoulder. Iseldir, after a moment, continued with his explanation.

"You are correct in your understanding, however, there is one part of the story that you are unaware of."

Arthur jolted in shock at Iseldir's words. There was more to the story of his birth? Frantically, Arthur started asking questions.

"What do you mean? What haven't I been told?"

Iseldir patiently and softly answered Arthur's questions, trying to soften the crushing revelation that he was about to tell Arthur.

"The balance of life and death is at the very core of the Old Religion. However, it is not the power of creation. The power over life and death was used by the high priestesses to resurrect and bring life to someone who has already passed. To magically create a new life, a new soul, from nothing is an act of creation, something that takes far more power than manipulating the balance of life and death. An act of creation takes the power of a god."

"I... I don't understand. What are you trying to tell me?"

"I am sorry that you had to find out this way, King Arthur. But in order to successfully ensure that your mother and father had an heir, Nimueh called upon the power of her patron god: Emrys."

This time, it was Arthur was gasped in shock at this information, hysteria rising in him once again.

"Are you telling me that Emrys was responsible for my very creation?! That it was his power that created me?!"

"More than that, I'm afraid. To create your soul, Emrys did more than just weave his own power into a life. He cut out a shard of his own soul and breathed life into it, thus creating you. While we don't know his reasons for doing so, Emrys created you from a part of his own being."

Arthur felt like his breath had just been punched out of him. What... what did this mean?!

Iseldir must have seen his panic, and further clarified.

"In the eyes of the gods, this made Emrys your true creator and, in the eyes of the magical world, your father."

At those words, Arthur stopped breathing entirely. Unbeknownst to Iseldir, who kept going with his explanation, Arthur entire worldview was collapsing in on itself.

Magic itself was his father?! What did that even mean?!

And oh god was he even a Pendragon? Did he even have a legitimate claim to the throne of Camelot?!

Arthur's panic was so strong that he could barely feel how Merlin's supportive hand on his shoulder was now clenching hard enough to bruise.

(Meanwhile, inside Merlin's panicking mind: WTF??! Oh shit I owed HOW MUCH to Uther Pendragon in child support?! Am I a deadbeat dad to my own best friend??)

"This is why you triumphed over any foe, magical or otherwise. Emrys forbade any magic from truly harming you, and he rose to protect you when you needed him. He will always fight by your side, as you are, in many ways, a part of him."

Iseldir paused, now noticing Arthur's hyperventilating.

"I assume that you have many questions following this news. Please, feel free to ask anything, there's no need to be scared by this!"

Arthur took a deep breath and tried to keep from laugh hysterically. No need to be scared?! His entire life had just been turned on its head!

"If... if Emrys is my true father, what about Uther? Do I even have a claim to my throne?"

"Ah, there's no need to worried about that. While Emrys might be your father in terms of your soul, Uther is still your father in terms of blood. Do not fret, King Arthur, you are still of Pendragon blood and have every rightful claim to your throne."

Arthur calmed down a bit at Iseldir's words, breathing much easier now. This explained so many things about Arthur's life, how he had survived in situations that he by all means shouldn't have. Still, he had many questions for Iseldir.

"If I am truly the son of magic itself, am I even human, or am I some sort of demigod?"

At this question, Iseldir shook his head.

"That, I truly do not know. I'm sorry, but I don't think anyone knows the answer to that question except for Emrys himself."

Finally, an idea occurred to Arthur. He stiffened as he blurted out,

"Can I speak with him then? Is there any way to summon him?"

As soon as the idea took root in Arthur's mind, he couldn't get it out. Emrys had to have been looking out for Arthur for many years now, using his power to protect him. This notion of having a secret father who had been caring for him for years almost felt like having a second chance.

Arthur never had the relationship with Uther that he wanted. There was no affection, no bonding, and no comfort to be found there. Only expectations and demands.

But Emrys had apparently been helping Arthur for years with no expectations and no demands. Arthur had fantasized as a young boy about what it would have been like to have a kind, caring father, the kind he saw doting on their children in the marketplace. Now, it almost seemed like he had another chance of having a father, one who truly cared about him!

So naturally, Arthur wanted to meet him! Both the druids and the knights look slightly confused at Arthur's excited outburst about wanting to meet Emrys, but the druids tell him that they have everything that they need to perform a summoning ritual, but they'd need some time to set it up.

Arthur asks if they can set it up for him, and they nod and walk away to begin preparations. Meanwhile, Merlin and the knights ask Arthur if he's just lost his mind. They know that this must be shocking for him, but does he need to summon a god?!

Merlin shows the most vocal opposition to Arthur's plan, saying that they still don't even know if they can trust Emrys. All they have to go on is the word of the druids, and they seem pretty biased in Emrys's favor.

Arthur smiles and tells Merlin that he appreciates his protectiveness, but this is something that Arthur needs to do. He needs this closure, this chance to connect with his last living parent.

Arthur does take Merlin's concerns into consideration though, and orders for his men to leave the camp and take Merlin with them, so they're far away and protected if Emrys turns out to be untrustworthy.

(As the knights drag a struggling Merlin away, Merlin is frantically talking with Iseldir in his mind about what the summoning ritual entails and what it looks like. If he magically pops up next to Arthur right as Arthur does a ritual to summon Emrys, even Arthur would be able to put two and two together!

Luckily, Iseldir informs him that the summoning ritual will summon his soul, not his body, and Arthur wouldn't be able to recognize him. Still, Merlin tried to talk the druids out of the ritual, because Merlin doesn't want his soul to get yanked out of his body! But there was little that the druids could do with Arthur insisting on the ritual.)

After preparing the materials for the ritual, the druids take Arthur back into a tent to get him ready. Arthur's heart pounded in his chest with both excitement and fear as the druids walked him through what he had to do.

First, they gave him some plain but comfortable robes to change in to. They explained that Emrys preferred his followers to come to him in the garments of peace, not war, so his armor, chainmail, and weapons would have to be left in the tent.

After changing into the robes, Arthur felt strangely both vulnerable and comforted. As the druids rubbed some flowery smelling oil into his arms and then led him to a small wooden altar, Arthur couldn't help comparing this experience to approaching Uther.

Whenever he was meeting with his father, Arthur was expected to show no weakness, no flaws. He had to look the part of the warrior prince, trained since birth and hardened by battle. However, here with Emrys, Arthur was dressed in comfortable clothes and told to simply ask for Emrys's presence before the altar. He didn't need a sacrifice or penance or any sort of challenge to summon Emrys. All that the druids told him was to "call for him, and Emrys will answer."

Placing one hand gently on the wooden surface of the intricately carved altar, Arthur cleared his throat wetly before saying aloud to the empty space in front of him,

"Emrys, I'm... I'm not sure if you're here, but I'm your- your son, Arthur. You probably know me already, though, since you've been helping me and protecting me for a long time now. I- I wanted to thank you for your help. So, I would appreciate it if you could appear, so I could meet you and thank you in person."

There, Arthur thought that was a pretty good introduction! This was his first time meeting his new father, so he needed to make a good first impression!

Arthur stood, awkwardly shifting on his feet as he tried to push down his disappointment with each passing moment that Emrys did not appear. Maybe Arthur did it wrong? Maybe Emrys hadn't heard him? Or maybe Emrys had heard him, but was disappointed in Arthur and deemed him a weak son, just like Uther had?

As Arthur tried to swallow down his hurt, suddenly, there was a bright flash of light above the altar. It was so bright that Arthur had to throw his hand in front of his eyes and turn away, but his heart leapt at the sight.

Was this it?! Was he about to meet his creator and have another chance at having a father?

As soon as he could, Arthur lowered his hand and opened his eyes, anxiously awaiting his first glimpse at Emrys! As the light died down, Arthur was able to make out the outline of something...

As the light slowly dwindled, Arthur could see a bright, glowing ball of golden light, very similar to the one that had saved him from that cave so many years ago, floating above the altar. His eyes widened as he realized what, or more likely who, this light must be.

Emrys was a god after all, Arthur really shouldn't have assumed that he'd look like a human. The god of magic taking a human form, what a crazy idea!

Taking a deep breath to compose himself, Arthur called out to the light.

"Emrys? Is that you?"

At his words, the light floated down from the altar until it was hovering right in front of Arthur, an arm's reach away. Arthur fought the urge to reach out and touch the light, just to see if it was real and not just a product of his own wishful thinking.

After a couple seconds, the ball of light flashed, and Arthur heard what sounded like multiple voices coming from it, speaking in unison.

"Hello Arthur. I'm so glad to finally be able to meet you. I am Emrys."

(Elsewhere, Merlin mentally patted himself on the back for making his soul-self sound sufficiently inhuman and speak in a manner that was completely unlike his usual self. Arthur couldn't possibly figure his identity out now!)

Arthur let out a sound that was something between a joyful laugh and a sob. Emrys actually came! Clearing his throat, Arthur tried to calm down his excitement and nerves and put on his best diplomat voice. He needed to start off strong here!

"I'm glad that we could meet as well. It's come to my attention that I have many things to thank you for, including Camelot's victory over Morgana in our latest battle. You might have saved all of Camelot, and I owe you a debt of gratitude."

Emrys silently floated in place for a moment, making Arthur sweat with nervousness. Had he already blown his one chance of having a caring parent?

Finally, Emrys's... orb body (what else was Arthur supposed to call it?!) glowed again and spoke with his multiple voices overlapping in harmony.

"You do not owe me anything, Arthur. There are no debts between us. We are family, tied together by our very souls. You never have to feel indebted to me for protecting you and Camelot. I do it not for a reward or recognition, but because I care for you."

Arthur's eyes misted over as he took in Emrys's words. How many times had he wished to hear anything like that from Uther? How many nights had he lied awake wondering what unconditional love from a parent would feel like?

As tears started silently rolling down Arthur's face, Emrys drifted closer to him. Arthur was startled by this move and didn't really know how to respond. Hesitantly, he lifted his hands to ball of light, unsure of what to do.

Slowly, the light moved towards Arthur's outreached hands. Arthur almost expected to flinch back upon contact, but instead, when his hands finally touched the ball of light itself, he was only met with a warm, comforting sensation, and he instantly relaxed and leaned into it. The only thing he could compare it to were those warm hugs that Merlin gave him whenever he felt down, which he would never admit to Merlin that he enjoyed.

Arthur gently guided the light closer, until he was hugging it against his chest and that wonderful warm fuzzy feeling was spreading through his entire body. Arthur wondered if this counted as getting a hug from his father, and then immediately decided that the answer was yes. And his new father apparently gave very good hugs.

Arthur stayed with Emrys for several more minutes, until the sun was setting. From there, Emrys told him that he had spent too much time in the mortal realm and couldn't hold his form for much longer without taking time to rest. Panicking, Arthur asked if he would be able to see Emrys again, he couldn't lose his new father so soon after meeting him!

Emrys reassured him that they'd see each other again soon and that he'd be by Arthur's side the whole time, even if Arthur couldn't see him. Comforted by this news, Arthur bid his new father farewell, and the ball of light slowly dissipated.

Arthur then returned to Merlin and his knights, who had a million questions for Arthur. Arthur answered their burning questions as best he could, and they were relieved to see that Arthur was safe and not scarred by the experience of talking to the god of magic.

The next day, they returned to Camelot, and Arthur soon realized that even if he couldn't see Emrys himself, he could certainly the effects that Emrys had on the world around him.

Arthur never fell sick, his rooms were never too hot or too cold, his muscles were never sore from training, his attackers that snuck into the castle never managed to land a hit on him, his kingdom's crops prospered, and a million other things went right in Arthur's life, and for the very first time, Arthur understood.

Magic loved him. And, more importantly, his father loved him.

And it didn't escape other people's notice either. He had told the knights that he had brought with him to the druid camp to not discuss the revelation of his relationship to Emrys, but one knight got drunk at the tavern and told his friend, and someone overheard, and now everyone in the kingdom had heard the news that King Arthur was apparently the son of a god.

The fact that Arthur had secretly prayed for Emrys's help when Gaius reported about a deadly plague in the lower town, only for Emrys to immediately appear again as a ball of light in the middle of a council meeting in front of dozens of witnesses didn't help Arthur keep it a secret either.

(Meanwhile, Merlin hears all of Arthur's prayers for Emrys. He's able to take care of most of Arthur's concerns just as Merlin, but a very powerful/emotional prayer from Arthur actually summons him in his "Emrys" form, leading to some awkward moments, but he makes it work for Arthur's sake.)

On the bright side of Arthur's heritage being revealed, other kingdoms were now much more open to peaceful negotiations and trade deals.

And on one occasion where a very foolish king tried to declare war on Arthur, the enemy king's army only made it a hundred yards of Camelot's forces before the earth itself broke open into a wide chasm that started swallowing the leaders of the enemy army whole. No one was stupid enough to attempt an attack on Camelot after that.

Life goes on like this for about a year, until Arthur catches Merlin using magic for some mundane purpose. Arthur is shocked of course, but magic has been legal for a while now. When he questions Merlin on where he learned magic from, Merlin stammers and says "Well... uh, Emrys..."

Arthur cut Merlin off, yelling because apparently his father was teaching Merlin magic behind his back?! What was that about!

Merlin then decides to take this misunderstanding and roll with it, because there's no way in hell that he's looking Arthur in the eyes and telling him that he's actually Arthur's magical father.

Merlin spins a story about how Emrys had been slowly teaching Merlin magic so Merlin could help Arthur out and always have someone nearby with magic to protect him! Arthur accepts this story, but is secretly a little bit jealous. How come Emrys chose to teach Merlin magic and not his own son?

After Arthur asks Emrys about this, Emrys apologizes to Arthur, saying that he didn't know if Arthur would be interested. He then starts trying to teach Arthur magic (to pretty much no success). To further apologize to Arthur, Emrys gives him a gift! Emrys had apparently heard about how Uther had forbidden Arthur from having a pet as a child despite Arthur begging for one, so Emrys decided to remedy this by giving Arthur a baby dragon to take care of and to train to protect Camelot.

Everyone else is alarmed by this, but Arthur is almost moved to tears because he loves the little dragon so much already!

And this au is already wayyyy too long, so I'll cut it off there! I'm tempted to call this the "Arthur gets catfished into a healthy parental relationship" au lol!

I hope you all enjoyed this au! Sorry about it being longer than usual, but I had a lot that I wanted to write about this au idea! And if you want to see even more of this au, feel free to let me know if you'd like a continuation!

And, as always, thank you for reading through my (very long) ramblings! :D

[joi-me-hoi-me-noi]

Hello, I saw that your requests were open and I wanted to ask if I can make one hehe, you don't have to do it or anything like that, but I'll leave the idea here anyway hahaha.

I would like to request a teen! Satoru Gojo x fem! reader and kid!Megumi (or gender neutral) Where Satoru Gojo and reader have known each other since they were little and they are both powerful, therefore when it is time to go on the mission to protect Riko Amanai she is also sent along with Satoru and Suguru,She also suffers because of Toji Zenin and basically everyone is traumatized (here we stick to the canon, doing the daily angst that our dearest Gege gives us..:) ) And basically after the events, reader and Gojo go to Megumi to make Touji's last words come true,I'd like to see a little bit of domestic fluff and a little bit of angst hehe...Reader seeing Toji in Megumi but at the same time wanting to stop because she knows they are completely different people. Happy ending :D

A/n: Thank you for this wonderful request, I'm pretty sure this is the first request regarding JJK in general so yippeeee! Enjoy!

DIFFERENCE BETWEEN (TEEN!GN!Reader x TEEN!Gojo) [ft. KID!Megumi]

"Stay here with Misato, just in case that man manages to make it down here."

You simply nod, looking away. Something felt wrong, you could feel it in your gut. You feel Suguru's hand on your shoulder and you look up at him.

"Satoru's got this, he's the strongest there is. You probably won't even be needed."

You turn to Riko, the sadness building up inside of you. She looked like she was about to cry as well. You had so much fun with her, you'd miss her so much. She rushes into you for a hug, and you hug back tightly, your eyes welling with tears.

"I'm going to miss you." She buries her head in your shoulder. "I'll miss you too, bug."

You let go of her and watch as she walks forward with Suguru, leading her to the end of her life.

You and Misato finally hear the elevator coming down. Satoru made quick work of that guy; it really didn't take that long either.

"That must be him, right?" Misato looks at you, happily.

You start to smile as you felt the elevator growing nearby. Soon it fades, you detect no cursed energy from the lift at all. You start to activate your technique and Misato gets prepared to fight.

The elevator doors open then everything goes black.

"Y/n... Y/n!"

Your eyes slowly open as you wake up with a bad headache. You blink a couple of times and finally adjust to the bright light. Shoko stares at you in relief, smiling softly at you.

"W-What happened?" You suddenly remember the elevator and-

You sit up quickly, groaning in pain and being calmed by Shoko.

"Easy. Easy!" She touches her hand to your back softly, rubbing up and down.

"Is Satoru okay?!" She nods.

The door to the clinic opens to reveal Suguru, a solemn expression on his face.

"Suguru, what's wrong?"

"I gave Riko a choice of continuing to live or to die. She chose to live her life."

You smile, happy he gave her a decision.

"She's...um..."

You laugh softly, smile slowly fading. She couldn't have...

"She's alive and back at home with Misato...right?"

He stays silent, looking at the shiny floor of the clinic.

A sobbing scream was heard from inside the clinic as Gojo listened silently near the door.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

You shoot awake from your bed, looking over at your boyfriend who is still sound asleep. Your hand unconsciously rubs the spot where Toji Zenin's bullet almost killed you. You let out a sigh and escape from the bedroom and into the kitchen area.

"You're fine." You open the fridge, the glow illuminating your face with the most perfect uncomfortable amount.

You lean your head against the fridge door and take a deep breath before grabbing a water bottle. You couldn't help but rest your head against one of the counters and sob. You hated how your traumatic experiences will always come back to haunt you. You wipe your eyes, take another deep breath and take a sip of your water.

Your ears pick up a light pitter-patter sound approaching slowly. You turn towards the noise, observing Megumi with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, stopped in the middle of the dark hallway.

"Hey Megumi, you shouldn't be up. What's up?" You crouch down in front of the counter as he continues his silent approach.

"I heard you crying and I couldn't sleep." The kid looked so much like him, he scared you sometimes.

"It's nothing to worry about." His eyes are so similar to his father's.

"I think it is if you're crying. Did you have a nightmare?" Everything is similar to Toji.

"So-Something like that. I'm almost an adult, it's nothing."

Megumi just stares at you blankly for a moment before wrapping his blanket-winged arms around your neck.

"Everyone's afraid of something." He leans in closer to your ear, whispering. "It's okay to admit it, I'm afraid too."

You smile and hug him tight, rocking him back and forth on the kitchen floor. He made you feel better, way better than before. He's just a kid, Y/n. He's not his dad.

"Let's rest together, yeah? It might be easier to sleep that way." He nods, tiredly.

You scoop him up and walk over to the couch. You lay on the couch with him cuddled up into your neck, softly breathing. Megumi fell asleep quickly. You brush your fingers through his hair, watching him fall into a deeper sleep. Soon, you follow him into a better dream than before.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Satoru wakes from his sleep and walks into the living room, knowing you got up in the middle of the night. He spots Megumi cuddling with you in his sleep and you hold him tightly.

'Cute...'

He touches the small scar on the side of your head and then kisses it, bending down slowly. You're more comfortable with Megumi and he hopes you'll get closer to him from here on out.

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

[luimagines]

Happy 2nd Anniversary!

I’ve been following you for about a year now an it’s amazing how far you’ve come.

If it’s not too much trouble could i have a jealous legend scenario with preferably a happy ending? (or another link of your choosing but legend is my favourite)

Thank you and once again - Happy Anniversary!

Let's give Legend a little love this time. :D

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

His teeth and his fists were clenched tight enough to cause damage but he didn't care.

Legend saw the way you laughed and bantered with some guy- he doesn't even know who he is. But he infuriated him.

He was clearly flirting with you with his half lidden eyes and his easy sleazy smile. You didn't seem to notice. If you did, you didn't care.

Legend knew that this wasn't ok to a degree. His feelings of possession and is (not) jealousy. He had no control over you. You were free to talk to whoever you wanted and it's not like any lines were crossed... yet.

But the idea- the very thought of something happening was driving him crazy.

Was this normal? Is he actually crazy? Shouldn't he just be happy that you're not in any danger and were simply happily having a normal conversation with someone other than a guy named Link for once?

But Legend couldn't look away as much as he wanted to.

You were joking with the guy, even if Legend couldn't quite hear what was being said between you two. He glared at the other guy as the man leaned closer to you. You moved away a bit to reach for something around the corner but the guy hadn't moved away when you righted yourself.

You looked down to notice the lack of distance but you didn't comment on it.

Legend's eye twitched.

Should he go say something? He wants to go say something.

The guy reaches to pat your shoulder and that's when Legend realizes that he's at his limit.

"Excuse me." Legend not so subtly puts himself in the middle of you two. "Hello Sweetheart."

He kisses your cheek and takes your hand, lacing your fingers together and putting it where the other guy can see it. He turns to the man and raises an eyebrow. "And I don't believe we've met before."

Legend sees the man's jaw clench slightly and he holds out his hand for Legend to shake. "Lile."

Legend does not shake his hand.

"Nice name." He says and doesn't bother to introduce himself either.

Legend turns to you and softens his face. "I wanted to go check out some of the market prices. Want to come with me?"

Your also a little tense, even through your smile. "Of course."

Legend nods and all but drags you out of there.

Finally away, he allows himself to breathe, holding your hand firmly in his own. "Goodness..."

You snort.

Legend snaps his head to you with a raised eyebrow. "What?"

"What was that all about?" You ask innocently. You're amused. Seeing your struggle to contain your laughter sends a wave of shame over his body.

"...Nothing." Legend looks down at your hands, not strong enough to meet your eyes.

"Dork." You lean and give him a sweet kiss. "You could have come over at any time. You know I'd gladly give you my attention more than any other person in the world."

"He didn't have to get all touchy-"

You silence him with another kiss. "Well I'm glad you got your point across before I had to. I quite liked your idea better."

"Yeah?"

You nod. "I had already told him I had a boyfriend. So we were just talking. Didn't like how close he was getting though so I was going to take some fruit and shove it in his mouth to see if he could care about personal space at that point."

Legend feels a smile tug at the corner of his lips. The stress melts off of him at last. "...I would have liked to see that."

"I bet you would have." You laugh.

[the-whispers-of-death]

Hello there! I am the Dilf requester anon :D. Can I ask you to continue the series?? OFC IT'S UP TO YOU!! (it can be anything really)

Btw looove your works!!!

It's been a month, but I've finally gotten to this ask, thanks to @3amfanfiction giving me suggestions on the next part for this. (Godsend, I tell ya.)

Anyways, I hope this still satisfies you even though it's a month late. Thank you for your kind words.

Ghost was a man who could follow orders. It was something that was ingrained in him after years of being in the military.

The thing was, he didn't follow just anyone's orders. They had to have his respect and more often than not, he clashed with his superiors when thinking their orders were bullshit. Price was the only one whose orders Ghost happily followed.

That was until he met you. You became the second person whose orders he could happily follow.

He's now in your kitchen, your kids quietly playing and doing their own things in the living room. He's dutifully waiting for your orders, his back straight like he's not a veteran but rather still the hardened soldier he used to be.

As you order him around the kitchen while you both make dinner for you, Ghost, and the kids, he finds himself thinking of how warm your orders are.

Everyone who has ever ordered him around has always been more rough than gentle, yet here you were. You're authoritative, but soft. Your voice doesn't harden with annoyance when he doesn't cut the vegetables the way you told him to.

No, instead, you walk over and gently place your hands on his, showing him how to cute the vegetables exactly the way you want him to. The gentle touch sends a shiver down his spine and your warm smile makes his heart skip a beat.

It's so easy to for him to fall into a rhythm with you despite this being the first time you two have cooked together. You lead him so well and he follows you so well. Like you two were made to do this together.

And when dinner is all done and finished, Ghost sets up the table as you call your kids to eat. He watches with his softened brown eyes as you walk back into the kitchen with a victorious smile, your kids shuffling in behind you.

He feels so warm and cozy as he sits with you and the kids, listening to the kids talk about their day as if he had always been a part of the family. Like this is his home, like he's right where he's meant to be.

Ghost follows orders, but only when he trusts and respects the person giving the orders. And he trusts you so much.

So much so that he has to take a sip of his drink just to stop himself from asking you to marry him right then and there.

Separator made by @une-femme-de-lettres

Okay, so this is short, far too short despite the fact that I took too long to get to this request. However, I'm not going to tear myself down for it.

I got it done and I'm relatively happy with it. And I hope you're happy with it too.

Between you and me, Ghost wanted to propose to DILF!Reader right then and there, but I managed to stop him. If he had his way, this would've ended with him popping the question. 😂

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and request something! (Check the rules in "Rules for Requesting NSFW" before requesting.)

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

Baby It's You (Teen!John Lennon x Teen!Female!Reader)

A/N: Hello! Yes, I'm alive, and yes, I know I haven't posted anything original on this blog in over 3 years, but that's gonna change!

Thank you all for sticking around so long, my life did a 180 about a month or so ago and now I can get back to one of the things I love doing most: giving you all some juicy fanfiction to enjoy!

I've had an influx of enthusiastic followers and readers on my last oneshot ask for more writing, and I will be delivering! I have upcoming Paul and George oneshots underway; but first, I think it's time we show John a little love!

P.S. we'll probably consider this an AU fic since John went to private school, and he is going to school with the reader in this one. Sorry for the lack of authenticity in advance!

Summary: Your friend, John, invites you to the first Fair of the year with the intentions of evolving some spontaneous behaviour within you. You find just the thing there to prove to John just how daring and fun you could be-- and then things go sideways.

WARNINGS: This has been sitting in my notes FOREVER so I wouldn't be surprised if there were typos.

Also, there is a heteronormative behaviour in this fic because of the time it was set in, but I want to disclaim that LOVE IS LOVE and I, in no way, support heteronormative/ anti LGBTQ+ behaviour. Love who you want to love; just be happy doing so<3

Also Also, she is a LONG one like the other oneshot, so I advise you read this when you've got some time on your hands!

Swearing is almost a certainty at this point, but no really mature themes, so a T rating is probably enough for this one.

It was a hot Friday afternoon, at the very end of the school year; and there were hundreds of telltale signs:

The teacher was well over his curriculum and he sat at his desk reading a book in silence, student-made work was no longer strewn about on the walls, the classroom was humid even with everyone fanning themselves and each other; and the students...

You could tell the students were just dying to get home for the summer.

There were five minutes left on the clock, and you sat at your desk packing your things away. You spent the last hour doodling, but you wanted to be ready to take off as soon as the bell sounded.

As you zipped your bag up, you saw a little flash of white in your peripheral, and when you glanced back at the surface of your desk, you noticed a folded piece of paper-- a note!

You looked around briefly, but no one indicated to you where to pass it, so it had to have been for you.

And if the note was for you, then there was only one person it could have been from.

You unraveled the little piece of paper, revealing the question the paper possessed.

"Fair? Tonight? -yours truly"

That evening in particular, the local fair was going to erect itself in the biggest park in town, and everyone at school was going to be there. What better way to blow off steam at the end of a long year of hard work?

You shook your head at his pathetic complimentary close, your eyes rolling to the back of your head so far they almost didn't come back.

The bell rang, and before you could even consider doing anything else with the note, everyone took off out the door, as did you, knowing fully well "yours truly" was going to be waiting for you at your locker.

As you rounded the corner to the hallway your locker was in, you finally caught glimpse of him. He was leaning against it with his arms crossed, one leg over the other as his eyes wandered the other students for your face; and when your eyes locked, his expressionless mouth couldn't help but tighten upwards.

Perhaps his smile was out of kindness, but it was most likely because he was a jokester, and quite frankly couldn't get enough of teasing you.

And now his target was spotted.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you spoke first. "You know how much I hate how you sign these off, right?"

You presented the note in hand adjacent to your head as your face displayed a disapproving cringe, cheeks pink in mild humiliation.

"John, I only ever get notes written from you, so the flowery signoff is unnecessary," you put the note down, pointing at him with a frown.

"That note-passing was so open! You know if the teacher ever caught something like that, he'd make me read it out loud to the class, surely you know I'd die on the spot, and then my ghost will haunt you until you died too!"

His smile only grew wider at your words, almost as if he'd been betting with himself what your response to all of this was going to be.

"Also, you're not even in my last class," you rambled on, "so how you managed to have it smuggled in beats me."

"Oh, come on, y/n, you know you'd love all the attention you'd get out of something like that," he gestured to the paper, and you shook your head before crumpling it into a ball in your hand and tossing it at his head, to which it bounced off, and then was immediately trampled on as other students hurried down the hallway.

The both of you weren't strangers; you frequented playdates with John as children, and then you went to school together, so you basically watched each other grow up. John, for as long as you'd known him, usually displayed confident and sometimes mischievous behaviour towards others that typically you'd find unappealing for a man to display.

"People thinking I'm with you? That is not the kind of attention I'm after."

Not that you ever found John appealing, in any way. He was your buddy; you tolerated his behaviour. That being said, over the years he started lightening up on the harsher jokes with you, opting for more of a platonic flirt more than anything else, finding it was a less harmless way to poke fun at you.

"And the Fair, John? Really?"

The boy shrugged his hands up to defend his suggestion. "What's so bad about the Fair?!"

You rolled your combination into your locker, and he shifted out of the way so you could get into it better once you got it unlocked.

"Nothing's wrong with going to the Fair. Going to the Fair with you on the other hand..." you tisked at him before reaching into your locker to retrieve what binders and books you had left in there. John never used his locker, so he was just waiting on you.

You tossed your bag up over your shoulder once you shoved your books inside, and before John could interject with an if, and, or but, you put your hand up to silence him.

"You left me lost in that fun house--"

"But that was literally ten ago, y/n!"

"Doesn't mean I'm over it!"

You took the lead towards the exit doors, and John followed suit, searching for the right words to convince you to go with him.

"If you go with me tonight, I'll try to win you a stuffed animal,"

"We're doing bribery now, are we?" You smirked, reaching out for the doors and pushing through until both you and John were outside, standing under the sun. It was nice for once for the sun to have been out from behind the clouds.

"Look, you're just always hanging out with your girlies, and I've got my mates, but they're all going to the fair with other people tonight," John started as you both headed to the sidewalk and began to make your way to your place.

"We never really do spontaneous things anymore, just you and I. And, I don't know, growing up a little might have had something to do with it... but it doesn't mean I'm not still your friend, though. I wanna do things with you."

You took John's words into consideration. One thing you really liked about John was that he was passionate, and poetic. You'd seen this reflected in some of his writing before, and he often discussed with you how much he liked music, and how he dreamed that his poems could very well one day soon become songs...

Now, it's not like he spoke the way he wrote, but his thoughts translated to words so quickly and effortlessly, and he, as a speaker, really made you think twice about what he said because he sounded so sure when he spoke.

"... I suppose we have been distant in terms of having fun. I know I won't be able to win an argument with you that studying every other night together is considered 'fun', even though I think otherwise."

You and John both rounded left down the next street, which happened to be where you lived; the benefits of living a block away from school. Your house was coming up, meaning this conversation had to end soon.

"Y/n, of the two of us, it's you who needs to be more spontaneous. Just say yes and come with me tonight."

At this point, you and John had slowed to a stop and were standing at the end of the driveway, facing one another as you pondered whether tonight was going to be spent inside reading and listening to music, or stimulated by exciting noises and lights while you stuffed your face with Carnival delicacies and treats.

"... If I say yes, will I still get my stuffed animal?" You already knew the response as the smile returned to John's face.

You and John made it to the Fair for 6:30, and it was already full of life; children on the rides screaming their heads off, friends competing in mini games like Ring Toss and Balloon Darts, and the smell of popcorn and candy floss swirled through the air.

As you looked around at all of the rides available, you barely noticed John going out of his way to buy tickets for both you and him for the night. When he returned to you, he tried to see if you were looking at a particular ride. "Anything catching your eye?"

"I feel like they have different stuff this year. Like, that one must be new," you pointed to a group a different rides that you'd never seen before. "Let's look around, and if anything looks interesting enough, I say we go for it."

John bought you enough tickets for you both to ride everything anyways, but you two had all night, and nowhere to be the next day, so you agreed to start at one end of the fair, and work your way through it.

The first ride that caught the attention of either one of yous were the Tea Cups.

"Remember the one time I threw up on you on that ride?" You asked John with a little smile, to which he replied without a beat,

"And then I threw up on you and caused a chain reaction with all of the other kids on the ride?"

You both laughed and cringed at the rather unpleasant memory before John kindly took your elbow and pulled you towards the ride gently, knowing full well that your matured stomachs would be able to handle it now, and your moving feet indicated you weren't objecting the idea of getting on.

"We gotta start the fun somewhere, Love. After you," John presented four tickets to the ride operator, and you chose your favourite colour cup to climb into.

"If you just don't spin the cup, we'll make it out of here safe," you warned John with a joking wagging finger, and he saluted to you respectfully as he closed the hatch to the cup and took a seat next to you.

"Don't worry, we won't meet the same fate as last," he grabbed the wheel at the centre of the cup as if to indicate he was going to steady it the whole time, and you were excited to see how well he'd do; and even more excited to make fun of him when he did a bad job.

The ride shot to life, and as the cups began dancing around in different patterns, you watched in amusement as John tried his very hardest to keep the cup from spinning; his attention sometimes turning to you, and he watched as your hair whipped around your smiling face as the ride threw the both of you around.

Your beating heart was building up adrenaline as the ride spun on. You suddenly threw your hands overtop of John's, and his eyes shot up to you, hands going slack on the wheel, and you took that moment to whip the cup around as hard as you could, the world becoming a blur around you, and your energy within escaping in a bound of squeals and giggles.

John couldn't help but join in, your laughter was contagious, and the excitement he felt seeing you having fun made his heart ache a little, but in a good way.

The ride was over much sooner than the either of you would have liked, the both of you combing your fingers through your hair to appear more presentable as your tea cup came to a complete stop. John opened the door for you, and you both continued on on wobbly legs to see what else the Fair had to offer.

After a few carnival games and slow, paced rides, you finally grab John by the wrist after he suggests doing something you'd rather do later so he didn't take off too far.

"I think we should do the Ferris Wheel, John," You dropped his wrist and pointed to the ride in the distance behind him, his eyes following your gaze to it.

"Come along, then," it was now his turn to grab your wrist, and lead you along.

That was one unspoken rule you had with John: he never held your hand. You weren't sure why, and you didn't really care-- you didn't want to hold his hand. You just always settled on the idea John was really committed to the joke about not wanting to get Cooties; and honestly, you respected his devotion to the joke.

Your wait in line to ride the Ferris Wheel was a short one, and your chest filled with excitement yet again as you and John took your seats and the ride operator strapped you in.

As the ride filled with other people, you and John slowly made your way to the very top of the ride, allowing yourselves to take in the view of the Fair that seemed to stretch forever.

"We really should have done this first so we could have seen everything all at once," you said, peering down at some of the unrecognizable stands and rides surrounding you both. One in particular caught your eye, and it was in the shape of a space ship from those cartoons depicting the future.

"We definitely have to check that one out," you pointed to it, and John nodded his head in agreement.

"It seems to be right by the games and food. We'll grab some candy while we're in the area."

"And...?"

"And I'll win you that prize, yeah yeah yeah, I know what I promised."

The Ferris Wheel then took off, and you and John savoured the ride, watching the sun slowly fall towards the horizon, the most beautiful colours painted across the sky.

"I'm glad you convince me to come with you, Johnny. I'm having loads of fun. Thank you," you didn't shout, just loud enough that John could hear, and he smiled at you.

"Like I said, if anyone needs to be more spontaneous, it's you. If I can fix that in any way, I'll take the chance," you smiled back at his words, turning your full attention back to the sky as the ride began to slow, knowing this moment, like everything else, was going to come to an end.

You and John were on a mission to get over to the space ship, passing by a bunch of other rides and games you pointed to and indicated aloud along the way that they were on your To-Do list that evening.

As you approached what you two initially thought was a ride, you discovered that the rocket was actually just a still building. There were two lines entering the ship, and there were a few people in each line.

One of the Fair Staff was walking by, and John stopped him before he went too far. "Hey, what's this one all about?"

"Cosmic Hearts is a matchmaking activity we just added! You're matched with someone of your preference in the other line anonymously, and you both enter the rocket. You spend two minutes in the dark together, and then you leave together when the doors open, revealing who you've matched with. You can also think of it as a two-way Kissing Booth."

The staff member looked at the both of you before adding on slowly, "established couples usually don't use that one..."

"Oh, you must be mistaken, we're not--" John couldn't even correct the guy before he was walking away again. You looked from John, back to the metal space ship. The guys standing in line weren't bad looking at all.

"... I wouldn't mind spending two minutes in the dark with any of them," you thought aloud, noticing that each person in line had at least one unique physical attractive quality.

"Yeah, well I'd be worried they'd be touchy with you. In the dark and all," John huffed, shaking his head at the picture he painted himself, and you bursted out laughing.

"What, so you're my chaperone now? Going in there is knowing full well you're going to have hands all over you. Maybe I want to be squeezed up a little, Johnny, is there any harm in that?"

"I mean," John's face flushed a rosy pink before shutting his eyes and shaking his head again, as if that was going to stop his imagination from doing what an imagination does.

"That's.. not something I want to picture."

"Well look, you don't have to anymore," you took John's arm and pulled him towards one of the game stalls close by. "But you do have to try to win me that stuffed bear. We all know that's what I came for in the first place."

The distraction you set up was a good one. The game you brought John to was pretty much just Balloon Darts but forest- themed. You watched as John tried his very best to aim his darts, but he just couldn't quite seem to make the mark for that bear.

The fifth round came and went, and John was still slapping more tickets down. You knew it didn't help that John was legally blind and flat-out refused to wear his glasses, but you weren't about to start an argument with him over that.

After John used up the rest of his darts from that round, he looked over at you with frustration and he sighed. "Look, I might just need a quick break," John took the tickets from inside his pocket, and placed them in your hand.

"I'm running to the loo, it's just on the other side of the park, just hang out here, play a round... or four... and see if you're a better shot than me,"

"I'm always a better shot than you, Lenny," you called to him as he disappeared in the crowd, waving back to you as if to acknowledge your cocky response.

You went to turn back to the game, but something stopped you. You took a quick glance over your shoulder, and eyed the lineup at the rocket ship. You couldn't believe how good looking the people in the lineup were, you could only imagine what the mystery people in the second line looked like.

And then John's words from earlier became apparent in your head, statement ringing in your ears.

"Y/n, of the two of us, it's you who needs to be more spontaneous."

You furrowed your brow as you thought about this decision you were about to make. The closest lineup to you wasn't long at all, and before you knew it, your feet were pretty much walking themselves up to the line.

There was a girl about your age doing the matching for your line, and she met your gaze after letting the next person in. She grinned, and approached you.

"Hello! Welcome to Cosmic Hearts, do you know how we work?"

"Sort of... I just don't know how the matches are made."

"Oh, it's no worries, we do that all for you! We only really take the girl's request for preference types, and then we match accordingly from the other line. Is there something in particular you want about your match? Looks? Behaviour?"

You raised an interested eyebrow, skeptical about how accurate your preferences would be in terms of the match.

That being said, it was just an elaborate kissing booth, it's not like you were using the stall to find the love of your life-- no, you were looking to prove to John that you could be daring, that you weren't as boring as he maybe thought.

"Look, girl-to-girl here, I trust your judgement in choosing me a good-looking guy..." your voice tapered off for a moment before you added, " I just might want someone who doesn't seem too overconfident."

The Match Girl smiled wide, and gestured toward the door to the spaceship with her hand, pushing it open to let you in. You were the next girl in line, and the boys in the lineup watched as you took a deep breath and moved in.

As you walked toward the threshold of the dark room, Match Girl filled you in on the instructions.

"The other side of the curtain will be your 'contact area', only walk through when you hear the other door close; that'll mean he's inside as well. You'll have two minutes alone together, at which point we will open the central door and let you both out"

Your heart began to quicken. It didn't really occur to you until now that you were about to make out with a complete stranger in the dark, and leave that spaceship hand-in-hand just to prove to John wrong about you lacking in as much fun as he thought.

But this impulsive plan of yours also excited you a lot.

Maybe by the end of the night, you'd be leaving with a boyfriend, and telling John that you told him so.

You took your final step into the rocket, and your heart pounded against your ribcage as it all went dark.

After about thirty seconds of silence, you heard some shuffling from the other side of the curtain, and then a simple, "your two minutes start now," from the staff.

Your heart was beating so loud, you could hear the blood flowing in your ears. Your remaining senses enhanced, provided your lack of vision, and you followed the wall to the right with your hand, past the curtain, and you could feel an immediate change in temperature in the room.

You were much warmer now, hyper-aware of the fact that you were sharing body-heat with whoever the staff matched you with. You had to relay it in your head a few times what this actually meant for you. It meant that the stranger in this room with you was going to get to know you quite intimately in a pretty short amount of time.

This made you think a moment or two about the other party in this situation: The Stranger. What was his story? Was he dared to jump in line by his buddies to get some action? Maybe his story is that he just wanted to have his first kiss to get it just done and over with, or maybe he, like yourself, was just doing it for the Hell of it.

Whatever the reason, you felt you owed it to them to give them a decent snogging.

Your hand continued to drift along the wall before your thumb bumped into another hand. You gasped quietly, knowing you were close to the stranger, just not exactly sure of where abouts until now.

You lifted your hand off the wall at the same time as him, and as to not lose you, he made sure to reach out and take your hand in his gently, seeming more like an offer than a demand, which you took, admittedly rather nervously, especially when his other hand reached out to grab the other hand at your side.

Something was just so thrilling picturing so many renditions of handsome young men in your head, mixing and matching what he looked like based on what you could feel. His hands were larger than yours, and his fingers were calloused.

He played guitar, or bass, or something, and you knew this because John played, and you remember him telling you once that the strings were really hard on the hands, and you could just tell by looking at his hands that he wasn't joking.

You just thought the feeling was such a contrast against your own hands, which were soft and untouched, and you were sure with the way this guy was running his thumbs over your palms, and the pads of your fingers, he was admiring the contrast as well.

You almost wanted to say something to him about it, but he had you stuck in a trance, especially when he let your hands go for a moment to gently feel up your arms for your shoulders. You tried your best not to be too reactive, but you couldn't help the goosebumps trailing after his touch.

His hands moved up, and you felt his fingertips graze the crooks of your neck and then up under your jaw.

Neither of you spoke, this moment too intimate for the silence to break. You and he breathed so shallow, it was hard to even believe there was someone in the room with you.

But there was, and his fingers traced your jawline slowly, one hand deviating up to cradle the back of your head while the other gently traced around your chin.

Your lips parted, your own hands reaching out for his waist so you had some idea of where he was in front of you. Your fingers found his jacket, and as you tightened your hands around the leather, you felt him move a little closer as his thumb finally found its way to your bottom lip.

You felt his breath on your face, and you held your own, squeezing your eyes shut when you realized they had been wide open the whole time.

And finally, after what seemed like too long, his thumb disappeared and he replaced it with his own lips.

The kiss was soft, and not pushy at all, but you were tense like a rock under his touch from how nervous you actually were, and you just kept still.

He pulled away for a moment, and you could feel your face burning. That was not the kind of note you were going to leave on. Whoever this was, he had clearly gotten your attention, and you needed to return the favour.

Your one hand moved up his chest, over his collarbone and around his neck to pull him back down towards you. Your lips came together again, and you felt him melt into your embrace after an unsure second, hands dropping down to snake around your waist and pull you flush against him.

You sighed against his mouth, and he pushed his tongue past your lips, all of your past worries melting away. You were in heaven, so drunk on intimacy that you forgot what you were even doing in there in the first place. You tried pulling him even closer by the jacket, to which he responded by slowly backing you against the wall, one of his hands dropping to your hip, and the other returning to the back of your head like before.

Your hand behind his neck slipped up into his hair, and he moaned gently when you tightened your fingers up in the strands and pulled a little.

"Yes, Baby..." the words tumbled from his mouth lowly, and you felt a chill shoot right up your spine; you immediately froze up, lips separating as the realization hit you. You felt like you were going to faint.

"John?!" Your question was short, but clear, and you felt your suspicions were all too correct when you felt all of his muscles tense up as well at the sound of your voice.

"...Y/n?!" His voice cracked, body frozen in place like a statue. As were you, grip still tight in his hair and on his jacket.

You were speechless-- you couldn't believe the one you just spent the last minute and a half or so with-- the one with whom you spent the most intimate experience in your entire life-- was John.

The gentle touching, the embracing of the heavy silence, the patient behaviour, the soft kissing, the respect of your boundaries, and the feeling of wanting more-- it was all John.

This was the first time in your life you had ever experienced John in a situation where he didn't have the words he needed to speak at his disposal.

But to be fair, neither did you. What would anyone do in a situation like this?

It became all the more real for the both of you a moment later when the doors opened up, the lights around the rocket ship lighting John's face for you to see, and your face for him. You both sported embarrassing shades of red on your cheeks, and John's mouth just hung open in perpetual shock as he took in the fact that it was you.

After a second, you both came back down to earth, and your hands came zipping off each other so fast, John scratching his head nervously and giving you space from the wall, and you folding your arms over your chest and gripping your biceps tightly with your fingers.

You couldn't even look John in the eye, nor could he with you, let alone speak. You walked out the door, John at your side. The Match Girl waited by the bottom of the ramp, grinning ear-to-ear. If only she'd known.

"Pretty good-looking, huh?" She nudged to you with a wink, and you could feel your face grow hotter as you glanced over to John. You made brief eye-contact, and you cast your eyes straight to the ground when it happened.

You were thinking things about John you never would have before had it not been for that stupid snog box.

"Yes," was all you could say, nodding for the most part and squeaking out a soft thank you to her before you turned on your heel, and beelined straight for the women's room, rushing out to John that you were running to the loo without looking back at him.

You were too focused on finding some cold water to splash in your face, and a quiet space to figure out what to do in this situation; the lights and sounds had your head just spinning, and it was too difficult to concentrate.

The women's room was quiet enough, and when you felt you'd splashed enough water in your face, you went and sat in one of the stalls for a while to break down the situation that just happened, and what you were going to do to fix it.

John was your friend. There was no way you were going to let something like this drive a wedge between you, especially if you just had to explain yourselves. You had your reasons going in there, as did he.

You were just hoping this could be something you could both look back on in the future and laugh.

You took a few sobering deep breaths before leaving the women's room. You rounded the corner, not quite sure where to begin looking for John, but you found you didn't have to go far when a rather familiar set of fingers took hold of your own as soon as you stopped.

You glanced over your shoulder and there he was. He'd been waiting for you the whole time.

And now he was holding your hand.

That's new.

"... Can we talk?" you spoke simultaneously, and you both smiled a little. John still couldn't seem to hold your gaze for too long without needing to tear his eyes away and resort to looking at his shoes, yet he still held a firm grip on your hand.

You'd never seen him like this before. It was sobering to see him without so much confidence.

"Where did you wanna talk? Nowhere's really private here."

"... Did you just wanna get outta here?" As soon as the words left his mouth, your shoulders lowered in relief. You both definitely had enough excitement for the night, and when you nodded your head sheepishly, John gave your hand a little squeeze, gestured you to come with him with his head, and you both headed for the Fair exit.

Your stroll down the town streets were quiet. Nothing was said between you two for the first little while, your strides were slow, your destination was unknown, and your hands were still clasped together. You took in the night air, for the sun had dropped below the horizon while you were in the spaceship, and the temperatures were lower.

You weren't too sure yet how John felt about all of that night's events so far, and what he thought of you. Clearly, based on the fact that his hand was still in yours, some opinion of his had changed.

Was he comfortable holding your hand now knowing it was you who shared such an intimate moment with him? Or was he maybe wanting to break off this friendship with you all because of tonight, and hand-holding was the only way he could think to comfort you?

At one point, John's fingers unraveled from yours, and you both slowed to a stop. He shrugged off his jacket and wordlessly draped it over your shoulders before you pushed your arms up into the sleeves. John tried looking you in the eye again, and he swallowed nervously, face going red yet again.

"John, we need to talk about what happened."

"I know."

You took his hand this time, and guided him to the curb, sitting down together. Your fingers left his, and you both planted your hands at the curb at your sides.

There was silence for a moment as the memories of what happened back at the Fair resurfaced in your minds, what you were both feeling for each other, physically and emotionally, in your literal moments of blissful ignorance...

"Okay. I'm just going to put this out there right now. John, I had absolutely no idea that they matched me with you, or that you were even in line, for that matter." You sighed before continuing on, feeling the creep of warmth washing over your face yet again.

"I jumped in line impulsively when you left because I figured if you came back and you saw me leaving the rocket with a guy, I could prove to you tonight that I can be just as spontaneous and daring and fun as you."

You could see the gears turning in John's head when you finished saying your part, and after a second of putting the pieces together, his eyes widened, and then this wide smile spread right across his face, and, to your utter relief, he started laughing.

And it sounded so different compared to all of the other times he laughed around you. You couldn't quite place exactly what was different this time, but you found it to be more melodic than usual; more genuine. It was like music to your ears.

"I uh, I jumped in line for kind of the same reason." You raised a confused eyebrow, so John elaborated a little more, smile faltering a little as he cleared things up.

"Let me explain; If you saw me leaving the rocket with a girl, I was hoping I could convince you to do something tonight a little out of your comfort zone, like I did with that."

There was your Pièce De Résistance: John's reason for being in there all along was to teach you to live a little. And you were simply in there to live.

"Not that I wanted to see you specifically go through with the spaceship and getting felt up the wrong way, per se, but I just..."

John's words trailed off, and you could tell he was struggling to find words again. So, he decided to take this conversation in another direction.

"Okay, look, y/n, I don't want you to be under the impression that I think you're no fun. It's just not true. I adore you. There's just something about seeing you at the peak of excitement that makes me feel warm inside, like a child. I see this in moments you doubt yourself, but you still take that chance and you come out successful in the end, shining with confidence. I wanted to see you tonight with that same glow. And I would have if I hadn't have made fun in the first place that you were such a bore, so I'm sorry."

John dropped his head down after he finished speaking, and you looked at him for a moment, blinking once before reaching out to rub his back.

"Johnny, there is nothing to be sorry about." He turned his gaze to look at you, and you took some long pauses between your sentences. John was patient, eyes watching your face, and hanging onto every word you said.

"Of all the people I could have ended up with in that rocket tonight, I don't think you have any idea just how grateful I am that it was you in there with me, and not some stranger."

You didn't think you could keep it inside forever just what you thought about John's kissing, but you didn't think you'd give up fifteen minutes after the situation, either.

"John, I've kissed boys before, that's no secret between us; but what is is that I've never kissed a boy the way I kissed you tonight, and the attention you were giving back to me, I thought I nearly fell for you in there, and I had no clue it was even you," you laughed a little, the words feeling funny in your mouth, especially when they were for John's ears, only. Those words elicited red faces from the both of you.

"... I never thought I'd ever be nervous looking you in the eye, but to be quite honest, all that comes to mind when I see your face right now is the bubbling of excitement in my chest, and the feel of my legs going wobbly. God, John, would I be crazy to say I want you to kiss me like that all over again?"

You figured if you didn't throw the opportunity out there, you just might lose the chance to experience what you felt again, even if it meant just one last time in your life. But when John remained silent for longer than you hoped, your confidence began to falter. Perhaps John wasn't so comfortable with you anymore.

"... Would I be crazy?" You asked again, this time just above a whisper. John was the kind of person you expected to laugh something like this off. Perhaps he'd tease you for a moment, but ultimately tell you it was no big deal before gently rejecting you.

Instead, his silence indicated something much different. His eyes darted to your lips for a moment, a hand reaching up to hold the back of your head gently as he glanced up into your eyes.

"Love, if you think you're crazy for thinking that, then what I'm thinking must make me completely mad."

Your heart pounded against your ribcage, and John decided not to waste any more time in reconnecting your lips.

At first it was a little strange, his mouth on yours, but it wasn't in any way unpleasant. You found yourself, before long, snaking your arms around John's shoulders as you pulled him ever closer, your chests now flush as he tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss. You hummed at the contact, but John had to pull away soon after to catch a breath, but he kept your chests flush so he could feel your heartbeat.

The contrast of kissing him knowing full well who he was still didn't change the respect in his movements, and the gentleness of his kisses.

When your eyes met again, you couldn't help but smile nervously at him, biting down on your lip as you noticed his cheeks glowed pink.

"Wow," you sighed.

"I'll say," he responded, one corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk as the pad of his thumb drew invisible patterns from your cheekbone down your jaw.

That's when your smile began to fall slowly, and John noticed this as he was going to dive in for another kiss.

"What's the matter, Love?"

"... I think I like this too much. I think I like you too much," you said bluntly. The more you and John indulged in what you both physically wanted, the more you realized what you were putting on the line.

"... And is that a problem?" John asked you gently, and you raised your eyebrow, pulling away a little more from the embrace.

"It's a problem because this puts our friendship at risk, John. Every time our lips touch, the harder it is to look at you platonically."

"Then don't look at me platonically anymore," His suggestion was so effortless as you felt his other hand reach up to play with your hair.

"... I never expected tonight to go the way it did. But y/n, the more I think about a situation where it was anyone but me in that rocket with you, the more jealous I'm becoming... The more grateful I am that it was me, too."

John took another moment to bask in the silence before clearing his throat, and looking you right in the eyes.

"My eyes are wider than they've ever been before, and my mind is so clear. Why don't we try dating?" He suggested after a moment of deciding whether to ask in the first place.

"Dating?!" You paused. "John, if anything were to happen to what we have..."

"I know you're scared, y/n. So am I. But... I also believe this can be the beginning of something really great."

John let the hand in your hair drop to his shoulder where one of your hands rested. He gave your fingers a squeeze before he raised your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles.

"We already kind of go on dates, and now that kissing and hand holding is on the list of things we're comfortable with, we might as well just put a label on it."

John paused for a moment. "It's not like we have to scream it from the rooftops unless you wanted to. But... after tonight, it would be a treat to be able to walk around with my arm 'round your waist and proudly announce to the world that you're mine."

That comment of his made you bite back a toothy grin, but your red face really emphasized how his words made you feel. You were expecting a teasing jab from John, but, surprisingly, nothing came. Just hopeful eyes awaiting your response.

"If you're so confident we'll flourish romantically... then I'm with you, Johnny. We'll give it a go. But under one condition!"

John looked at you expectantly.

"You win me that damned stuffed animal tomorrow night, Lenny."

Now it was John's turn to grin, his arms curling around your body and pulling you into a warm embrace as he mumbled "deal" into your ear.

You were once again surrounded by leather, the crisp night air, the single dim beam of light from the streetlamp, and the faintest scent of whatever John's body wash was.

But most of all, you we're surrounded by young love.

You finally supposed that by the end of the night, you did end up leaving with a boyfriend, and telling John that you told him so.

You just had no clue you could kill two birds with one stone the way you had.

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A/A/N: I really hope you guys enjoyed this! I've had it in the works for LITERALLY four years now, and I am just SO glad it can be out in the world now.

PERMENANT TAG LIST

@culturefiendtrashqueen

@cowgorls

(Pls message if you want to be added/removed from my permanent/oneshot/chapter fic tag lists!)

[bronx-bomber87]

Hello my wonderful fandom :) I CANNOT believe we are at the finale already. This season went by in the blink of an eye. I was VERY excited for this finale and what it would bring. They don't have a ton of moments. But the ones they do the writers made count. My goodness I was happy and hopeful after this episode ended. Hard to believe we won't see our babies on screen till 2025. *grumble*

D sent me something about that actually (thank you bestie) Here it be. A.H. saying he's pretty sure all networks are doing this mid season 18 ep start. One of the reasons being the Election coming up. They want to protect shows and their ratings from the debates, coverage etc. And those usually happen on Tuesday nights. Which is actually really intuitive foresight from ABC. So to protect our ratings and show I get it. Especially if we wanna lock down a S8. I don't love it but I get it. Anyways lets get to it shall we? My last "mini" thoughts of the season.

6x10 Escape Plan

Always makes me nervous for Lucy going UC but still amazing to watch her in her element. Even if it makes my stomach tie in knots. Now maybe this is just me but Lucy seemed EXTRA uneasy on this OP. This is pure speculation on my part. But could be lending a little more credence to this not being the path for her? Just the feeling I got while watching her in these moments with with the kids in this one and the sneaking around.

I will say I do love seeing Lucy with the kids. Gives us a glimpse into her as a mama. I'm liking what I am seeing. Can't help but have that thought. I really can't. Chenford has taken over my brain and I'm very ok with it. Smitty's text to Lucy did crack me up. 'Red incoming.' Gotta love Smitty. Lucy is giving me a damn heart attack being undercover though.

The panic in her soul is so evident the minute she sees Monica is approaching. The way she guides the kids out of the room. Then the sheer terror when the kids wanna take a shorter exit. She has to pivot and redirect them quickly. I feel like the pressure of this specific UC mission was getting to her. I really do. It was felt in all her movements and body language through out these scenes IMO. I could be wrong but it was just a gut feeling I got watching her.

I think her expression in this scene after Monica departs is everything. Melissa be crushing it out here. Almost like she has to take a deep breath. Calm her racing heart down before unrooting herself from that spot to investigate further. I feel like her look of unease and panic here brings home the point I've been making.

Her questioning if doing UC is worth this stress? Worth the constant worry? Like I said back in my 5x20 review. Just because you're good at something doesn't mean it's meant to be your destiny. i.e. Lucy being a permanent U.C. Pretty sure her cover is blown after she runs right into him but she got the info she needed. At the expense of my own anxiety and worry though ha

The look in this scene oh my lord. How can they have so much chemistry with just one look? Melissa and Eric are a damn treasure to this fandom. To this amazing ship. Tim saying 'It's good to have you.' That loaded look between them. *screams into a pillow.*

You know that man is happier now that she's folded into this OP. His eyes were on her from the moment she stepped on scene. Be more in love with her Tim please. Then sharing a look with Angela. I’m dying. Angela is us we are Angela. She is the fandom in this moment watching this exchange. *sigh* So good.

Someone please tell me how do they look so amazing just standing next to one another? It's unreal how they can exude SO much chemistry just standing next to one another. Forever floored by the amount of physical chemistry these two have without even touching. It blows my mind in the best way.

Also I always enjoy me some Tim in T.O. mode it's sexy af. It revs my engine to watch him back in leadership mode. Not gonna lie. So very confident and sure of himself. Gah makes me need to cross my legs watching him in action LOL Sorry (sorta)Feral Caitlin made a return there haha But I do love seeing it. Like he’s getting his mojo back professionally. It’s nice to see. Does my heart good to watch it.

Oh my word they haven’t really been alone to talk (not counting the hug last ep) since 6x06. I’m so happy. I was legit buzzing watching this. My heart Tim telling her he took her advice and went to therapy. Yessss been waiting for this to unfold. Was hoping when they got a moment alone he would tell her about it. Look at him taking the first opportunity they have solo to tell her this. The growth of this man is incredible to see. I'm so proud of him it's insane. He takes a beat and makes the best of their time together. Breaking the uncomfortable ice with it. *happy sigh*.

I'm so proud of him. I can't state this enough. It is NOT easy to have this convo let alone be the one to start it. Another way to see he's grown. Tim is tackling the conversation. Being the one to broach it. Not Lucy dragging it out of him. I love her telling him that's not normal what happened for him. Definitely hasn't been my experience haha I do love her following up her little joke with being serious. Wanting to encourage him to keep going. I love this. Doesn’t want him to think one bad experience will tar the entire profession.

Tim nodding with a smile asking her if she wants to know the irony of it all? Lucy of course does. Tim continues on that she was a good therapist. The sessions they helped him. Damnit Blair.... I do adore the way Lucy is looking at him while he speaks about this. That angry look she started with has softened quite a bit. Truly hope he continues in S7 and we get to hear about it. God I would love to see sessions. Some of my all time fav Beckett scenes in Castle's S4 was getting to see her sessions with her therapist. It's on my wish list. *fingers crossed.*

His continued sharing with Lucy makes my heart so happy it might implode. Letting Lucy know therapy despite Blair being dirty has been good for him. She unearthed things he wasn't even aware of. I felt the same way too after a couple weeks. I felt more regulated tbh. I had massive sleeping problems from age 15 to when I decided to go to therapy in my 30's. After a couple sessions my sleeping issue's were gone for most part. I had been carrying my problems for so long. Like a pressure cooker with no release valve. So with no outlet they followed me into my unconscious and manifested into anxiety attacks. Couple weeks of sessions and my sleep issues all but disappeared.

Therapy when you truly lean into it can do wonderful things. i.e. Tim opening up to Lucy like this. Also look how SOFT Lucy looks with him as he bares his soul to her. I would be remiss if I didn't go in depth on this. The look of pride and love splayed all over her face is everything. Also reverence and love as well. This episode has a lot of loaded looks and I ate them all up. We started this scene with her face hard and holding a lot anger still. Then Tim melts it with his genuine vulnerability and sharing of what going to get help has done for him. Not only that but giving her props for the original advice in the first place. I'm beaming with delight.

We move onto Tim is being anxious his sessions are going be heard for evidence cause of the FBI investigation. Ugh. This kicks Lucy's brain into gear about that. Asking if he said anything revealing about her? His reply had me rolling. I adore him making a joke like this. Letting her know he mentioned ‘Freak in the sheets.' about her. I’m dying. I have no doubt there is some truth to that for them both LOL Look at our boy making jokes and getting her to laugh. God it was so so nice to see her laugh again. He earns a smile out of her too. The first time he's been the cause of that since her gifted her that KIA Radio in 6x05. I'm floating. They're both smiling by end of this scene. *sigh* We needed this.

We got to see some BAMF Lucy in this moment. Something that just like Tim in confident T.O. Mode has been missing since 6x06. I love her being like take this guy my man is in trouble. Getting him dropped off and instantly taking off after Tim. Who is also trying to pull off some bad assery tbh. A little recklessly but that's why Lucy is coming after him.

She see's his play and wants to be there to back it. Literally waste's no time in pursuit of him. Peels right out of that damn laundromat after him. Tim's play going south VERY quickly when this guy catches on to him in the bed of the truck. Sends his gun flying and my heart racing.

Adore the worried wifey look as she watches from the car. It's pouring out of her in that brief shot. Well done Melissa. Just like Eric she knows how to convey so very much with just a look. Lucy knows Tim is in trouble. That she can't just sit there in pursuit of the vehicle without helping him.

Especially after she watches him get pulled into the cab. Knowing that he is currently at a tactical disadvantage. No way in hell she is leaving him to fight this guy off alone. Telling Lopez to take the wheel as she makes her way out to help him.

Lopez's face when she makes the jump is shocked and amazed. Lucy continuing her BAMF streak on this OP. I loved the surprised look on Tim's face when she first jumps on the truck. Like he can't believe she just risked her life to come help him out. He can't stay in the feeling long as she takes the guy out for them. But it needed to be noted his utter surprise she was there to have his back. Risked her life to do so. Such a bad ass battle couple. Back to back finales we get to watch them be poetry in motion in the field with a battle.

Oh my lord what an epic scene to watch. Lucy jumping onto that moving truck bed to save her man. They take him down together. Their work dynamic easily coming back into play here. They don't miss a beat in this moment. Working as harmoniously as they always have in the past together in the field. I love the looks shared once they've stopped the truck.

Especially Tim's. He is so damn impressed with her. Always finds a way to blow him away with the bad ass she's become. Man is falling in love all over again. It shows all over the two looks he gives her in this scene. First one is his falling back in love again. I mean he already was but think sunk him deeper. Second one is more of just being in awe of her. The pride he feels watching the amazing cop she's developed into. I love these two so much.

Let me start with how happy it makes my heart that Tim smiles when she walks up to him. Despite all the hurt just the sight of her elicits a smile out of him automatically. His walking sunshine. Love of his damn life. She truly is his happy place in human form. Lucy making a crack about him taking a half day. Their banter still simmering beneath the surface. It's a little subdued in this moment but it's alive and well with Tim's reply. He is ever the gentlemen letting her go first.

His elevator version of holding the door for her. That chivalry never dying with him. It's the little things. Can't ignore how Lucy is looking at this man the entire scene. From start to finish. With such reverence and love. Still so in love with this man standing in front of her. Lucy can't help it. She is a moth to a flame with him. Especially with Tim thanking her for saving his life. Let's delve into that a little shall we? Tim Bradford is saying he didn't have it. Admitting fault he would've lost that battle without her.

Saying not only did he not have it but Lucy did. That he wouldn't be standing here without her. Giving her the kudos and all the praise for saving his life. Far cry from 1x01 and his future reaction to that moment in S5. This is a different Tim we see standing before us everyone. The amount of growth in this moment is immense. Because not only did she save his life but she saved him in a deeper sense. Feels like it's truly hitting him like a freight train the impact she's had on his life. I think there is double meaning to his words above. It's what leads him into this next section below.

The loving expression on Lucy's face when she replies ' You're Welcome.' That look of I'm still in love with you, I would do anything for you despite the hurt, and her realizing the deeper meaning of Tim thanking her. The growth she is currently seeing in him is prompting this soft/warm look and even softer reply. It's what encourages Tim to say his next portion. You can see him psyching himself up before he turns around to apologize. To own what he's done to them. To her.

Tim starts his apology by telling her he knows what he’s done (thank you lord for this) That he knows he ruined everything. You sure did babe...but you’re gonna earn it all back I know it. Lucy has the most loving and forgiving nature. The biggest heart. Also we can see there is still a tinge of anger to her expression at first above. So that journey will not be an easy one for Tim. Nor should it be. He has a lot to make up for. But my god will it be worth it in the end. I truly believe that. I'm going to be crying river's when we get there.

Look at how he has grown. Immediately spilling his guts emotionally to her twice in one episode. Not once but TWICE. Hell three times really. With saying she saved him and admitting fault to what he's done. I can't get over this. He had two really hard conversations with her in this episode. Swallowing that pride of his he's trying to hard to overcome. Doing this in order to communicate better with her. To show her he's putting in the time and the effort. To let her know he knows he messed up and is owning that. Something Tim wouldn't have done before. At least not easily. These are great strides for him. I couldn't be prouder of where they are ending the season for him. Imma need more therapy though in S7 you hear me writers?

Tim thanking Lucy for extending him the kindness she has shown him. *my damn heart.* That he can never explain how much he appreciates it. That she could've easily turned on him and he would've understood. But that's not Lucy. We all know that's not who she is. Or ever will be. It's that forgiving nature of her's that is one of the many reasons Tim is so damn gone for her. I think there is once again a double meaning to his words. To me Tim is saying this is for far more than just post break up. It's for their entire relationship. Together/apart and especially when they were not 1-4. The kindness and the empathy she's aways shown him. Even at his worst.

Like I said earlier it's all hitting him hard. The place she held in his life for so long and the impact she's had on him. Imma cry. A giant epiphany moment for Tim I think. Maybe starting to slowly understand the unconditional love she has for him. This scene made me tear up. That anger that is still present melts away a little more for Lucy. If she continues to see Tim work on himself. He shows her his continued growth. No reason she wouldn't take this man back when he's put in the work to re-earn that place in her life. Tim saying he's gonna spend rest of his life repaying her back for said kindness. *screams into the void.* In whatever small doses she allows of course.

Respecting her boundaries and hoping she will allow him to do so. It's the sweetest most sincere part of his apology. The way she looks at him as he departs. *heart clutch* You can see he's stunned her into silence. But also Lucy can see the growth in him and it’s written all over her face. This is a fantastic way to end the season for them. It wouldn’t be right to get back together right now or even just a 'we almost died' hook up. (Wonderful fic's out there for that just recently BTW.) Just wouldn’t. As much as my shipper soul LONGS for them to be back together. Legit longs so much it hurts. This was a good way to end them for the season. With some hope, some growth and a path forward leading us to S7.

Some Final thoughts below. With a Chenford hug to this lovely fandom of ours.

First off I want to thank you all for doing this not so mini review journey with me. I was nervous to do them. Even after doing 9 plus months of them with 1-5. This was different. It was first impressions. Hope you all enjoyed them. I'm more than happy to do this next season too. First impression thoughts for S7 as well if you are all interested. Let's move onto some final thoughts I'm having. You know months could pass by when we get to 7x01 in their timeline. I’m hoping he’s in therapy during this duration. Ready to prove he wants to earn her trust back. To earn her back. I don't think for one second that moment in the elevator is the last deep conversation they're going to have before we get a reconciliation. Tim has her love. Always has. Always will.

Lucy's decisions and responses in 6x10 show that. No matter what she loves this man. What he needs to gain back is her trust. To prove over and over again. He's there to stay. To show her through kind acts. To rebuild his rapport with her. I’m excited for that journey cause when we get there. *phew* God the fandom is gonna implode with happiness. It’ll be well earned. Their relationship is going to be even better with the growth Tim has done. (Hoping for some more for Lucy as well and getting the support she needs/deserves)We saw massive results in this episode alone. Can you imagine how it’ll be when they’re back together? *chefs kiss* it’ll make all the hurt and pain so worth it.

Getting emotional writing about this. This ship has a stranglehold on my emotions and I’m ok with it. Eric and Melissa love our passion for this couple. So I won’t be ashamed for the affect it has on me. I’m excited for s7. It’ll be a long hiatus. But we will get through it together. I will probably wait till mid July to do my thoughts fully fleshed out for S6. Think we all need time for finale to settle. For us too as well. I'm most definitely not ready to re-dive into everything just yet. Especially 6x05/6x06. But I'm hoping couple month hiatus for me will help with tackling that. Then we can start that journey for us all to go on with my deeper analysis.

As always thank you all for the likes, comments and reblogs. For being interested in my thoughts at all. It means the world you have no idea. Love this fandom, love this show and this incredible ship we are so fortunate to have. So once again thank you all for being on this journey of S6 with me. Like said earlier I’ll get started in my fleshed out S6 reviews come mid July. :)

~~~

Side notes-Non chenford

Monica cleaned up a mess for Blair. Manipulated her by helping her most Monica thing I've ever heard. Glad to finally have answers to that. I knew it felt like manipulation. She had too much of a conscience to be dead inside and doing it for money. Sucks cause she is very good at her job. That scene with Aaron was a mic drop moment for him. So proud of how far he came this season as well.

Friggin Nolan never listens. And get shot for not listening. In the ass. Because he's a pain in one. Was apropos. Also he's right back to being a dumb putz to me. It was short lived john you made it half an episode before falling out of my good graces LOL

Once again music amazing for their final scenes whoever handled that this season crushed it. Bringing out all my emotions.

See you all later this summer for my in-depth ones. Till then be kind and rally around each other. Gonna be a long hiatus.

[wonuwrites]

Love Me Anyway Song Reaction (Performance Unit)

this is from this anon request xo I love this song so much and so happy anon showed me a cute new song :D

vocal unit || performance unit || hip hop unit

Warnings: some body confidence issues again in Jun's, smidge angst in Minghao's, cussing, mostly fluffy though.

Just like other song preferences, members drabbles will be in order of the song lyrics. Also some lyrics will be similar to vocal units and tbh I'm not sorry. I feel like I made them different enough <3

ok enjoy :D

ღ Jun: "And I love you because you're understanding when I'm too shy to show my skin."

You sighed as you looked at all the clothes on your floor. You were packing for your annual girls trip but all the clothes you bought when you were with the girls just made you feel so self conscious and made you want to take some scissors to some parts. As you were starting to spiral, Jun walked into your shared room and raised an eyebrow at the mess. "Nothing looks good on me, baby." You would sigh before falling onto your shared bed. This would make him scoff before picking up some of the clothes. He knew fighting over how true that statement was useless when it came to you feeling this way so he decided just to be there for you physically. He would just kiss your forehead and lay next to you. "Do-do you want one of my shirts when you go?" You would almost cry because he knew that you found comfort in his clothes and you were just so thankful for him.

ღ Hoshi: "Sometimes I forget, wasn't always this way. It's hard to admit I was the one to blame."

You sat on the couch in the practice room and watched Soonyoung and the rest of Seventeen practice for their upcoming tour. Even if there were thirteen extremely talented and handsome guys in front of you, Soonyoung caught your eye the most. You smiled as you watched him do what he loved doing and couldn't help but think about how lucky you were to be his. You both were so happy and made time for each other even if schedules were packed. You both made each other a priority. Sometimes it feels like it's always been this way but you knew it wasn't. In fact, you used to be super against the idea. You thought Soonyoung was a great guy but dating an idol? That would be awful. You ignored his advances for months until he basically got onto his knees and said "(Y/N), please. Just one chance. Let me change your mind. I promise I will do everything in my power to make it magical." Which he did. Hell even when it came out that you were dating, Carats were super supportive and even joked with Soonyoung that they liked you more. He would act offended but he couldn't blame them. You were an absolute catch and every day he thanked the universe for allowing you to give him a chance.

ღ Dino: "I love you because when I say "I don't wanna talk" you always call me.

You can't help it, you are a little over dramatic. Ok, maybe A LOT dramatic. What can you say though? It's in your DNA. It's something you try to work on but sometimes, it just happens. Just like tonight, you can't even explain what Chan did but it just set you off where you thought you might want space. You walked out of the bar that you were with Chan and the rest of Seventeen and waited for your uber to come and get you. You hadn't told anyone you were leaving including Chan so it wasn't a shock when he started to spam your phone with calls and texts. [10:13 Channie: "where did you go?"] You sighed and noticed your uber pulled up to you. You said hello to the driver before getting in and responding. [10:14 Y/N: "just got into an uber, I'm going home for the night. I don't wanna talk tho. goodnight."] You then put your phone on do not disturb before looking out the window. However, even with DND activated, you still felt your phone vibrating with texts and calls from Chan. You were about a block away from your apartment when you finally answered your boyfriend. "Chan-" "(Y/N), I just need to know you're safe, if we are okay, if I need to kick someones ass, if you still love me," you heard him ramble on and on which made you smile a bit. You honestly couldn't remember why you were upset with him and you assured him that you still loved him and that you were almost home.

ღ Minghao: "After all this time, you were right. Can we take more Polaroids for you to hide."

Fighting with Minghao was never fun because you both got super emotionally invested in your fights. It was emotionally exhausting to try to not be sad because of what happened and figure out how to solve the problem. This time around, you realized quickly that there was no need for a "solution" just a simple apology which was all he asked for. You decided after work you would just apologize. When you got home you were a little surprised to find polaroids "hidden" around your shared home. With sticky notes explaining each picture or reasons why he loved you. After finding about five Polaroids you couldn't help but feel tears fall down your cheeks. You realized Minghao was feeling a similar way to the fight and this was his way of saying "I don't want to fight anymore because look what we have, it's good." You found a few more before you realized he was right behind you with a soft smile. He had been following you around since you got there but you were so caught up in memory lane you didn't realize. "hey," he whispered while grabbing your hands. "I'm sorry," you whispered while pulling him into a hug. "I'm sorry too," he whispered back before kissing the top of your head. "can we take more Polaroids soon?" This caused him to giggle before agreeing.

this was so soft. ty again anon <3

[dduane]

Hello Lady Duane! 😊 (I feel that if we can call Neil Sir Gaiman, you certainly deserve a title as well!)

I've wanted to tell you for ages now that you are one of my absolute favourite Trek authors, have been since I first read some of your novels over a decade ago as a teen - my parents and I have about? 4 or 5 copies of The Doctor's Orders between us, German and English alike (my dad even bought a copy to keep at the office for reading during his lunch breaks). The Wounded Sky is another one of my favourite Trek novels ❤️

My sister and I also occasionally watch old Barbie movies for the nostalgia. So when we watched Fairytopia a few months ago, we found out that you had written the script for the movie! I literally let out a happy yell when I saw you show up in the opening credits and went "omg, it's Diane Duane!!" That was so unexpected but also very delightful! 😊

And now, thanks to you being on tumblr as well, I found out about your other novels and bought your ebook bundle the other day. :D I'm currently a bit over halfway through So You Want to Be a Wizard and I just wanted to let you know that I'm enjoying it so very much!! ❤️

Thank you for all the wonderful words over the years! It continues to be a joy! 😊💜

Hi there!

Regarding titles: Well, okay... as long as everybody's clear that as a US citizen, titles are usually off the menu for me. (As an Irish one, not so much—the government can approve the use of them if it likes—though the neighbors'd snicker at me down the pub.) Anyway: I accept gratefully.* Though yelling "Yo, Trekkie!" might well be just as effective. :)

I'm glad you've enjoyed my Trek work! It's always been very satisfying to do. The chance to actually write professionally in what was my main fandom (after Holmes) during my late teen years has been a most unexpected—when I got started—and extraordinary thing.

And as for Fairytopia: That was a lot of fun too, and also unexpected. My agent just called me up one morning and said "How are you about Barbie...?" and I said, "Well, okay I guess, I had the usual number of them!" —and we were off. The Mattel people were fabulous to work with, and I look back on that whole project with affection.

Meanwhile, I'm delighted you're having fun with the first of the Young Wizards books! There are plenty more of them in that package (still discounted) that conform to the new timeline, which now launches in 2008 rather than the mid 1980s. (Book 10 of the series didn't need that treatment, and so isn't available in a revised edition.)

Anyway: thanks for letting me know. It's always nice to find out that I'm getting the job done. :)

*But also: according to the usual protocols, Neil—when they finally get around to knighting him, probably when a more literature- and intelligence-friendly government takes over—will properly be "Sir Neil": as UK knighthood's an acknowledgement of the person, not the family, and knights are therefore addressed by their first names. (Not to fret: people from both sides of the Water sometimes get this detail backwards.)

(...Be fun if they stuck him straight into the Lords, though. Usually, if you don't want to use your last name in your lordship's title, you can select the name of someplace in the UK that has personal meaning for you. Seeing Neil ennobled as Lord Neverwhere would be a trip.) :)

[whiskeythefishski]

hi i am very curious about everyone’s roommate situations in ur college au and honestly just any other cool n random bits of info you have bc im so excited for it lol

i actually finally watched Nerdy Prudes Must Die(its been in my ‘watch later’ playlist on youtube) because of this au!! im personally craving more spommy content in general but im also a sucker for like college/highschool aus bc im currently that age and ig its something i can actually imagine/understand 😁😁

Omg hello! I'm so, SO glad to hear that you're enjoying this story so much! It's easily the most self indulgent thing I've ever written, so the fact that other people are resonating with it means a lot! Also - congrats on finishing NPMD! I loved it so much (if you couldn't tell, haha), I hope you did too! And don't worry - this AU has plenty of Spommy moments coming up! :D

Roommate situations:

Trevor has a roommate, but they aren't a character in the story so I haven't thought about who they are too much. They share a traditional college double. Trevor has the top bunk. He just transferred in for the spring semester, so he hasn't made many friends yet.

Arasha, Angela, and Chanse have a little college apartment with a common room and a shared bathroom. Arasha and Angela share a room and Chanse has his own.

Erin and Heidi share a double.

Spencer and Alex Tran share a double. Tommy and Kiana both have singles in the same hallway/floor as Spencer and Alex.

Kimmy and Jackie live together off-campus. They rent a small 2-bedroom house cheaply from Kimmy's aunt.

All of the seniors in the story - Shayne, Courtney, Damien, Olivia, and Keith - share a college apartment with a common room and a full kitchen. Shayne and Damien share a room, Court and Olivia share a room, and Keith has his own room.

Amanda and Sarah weren't roommates when they were in school, but they were friends and probably had a lot of sleepovers.

And finally, when Ian and Anthony were in school, they were roommates all four years! (oh my god, they were roommates)

Other tidbits:

Before he transferred, Trev did a year at a culinary school. He also went to a high school that offered a culinary program.

Trevor is shown on his phone a lot in this AU because he's texting his friends from his old school. One of them is Josh (as in Mythical Chef Josh), who was childhood friends with Shayne. Josh asked Shayne to look out for Trevor, and Shayne is happy to do so!

Arasha skipped a grade in elementary school, so even though she's a sophomore, she's about Trevor's age.

On the other hand, Spencer and Damien both took a gap year, so they're a little older than their counterparts in the same year.

Chanse, Angela, and Arasha have weekly wine and movie nights, where each of them brings a bottle of wine to try and they pick a show or movie to watch in their PJs.

Kimmy and Jackie have parties fairly frequently, probably about once a month. I think nearly everyone in the cast has probably spent the night there at least once.

Spencer is one of the only ones with a car on campus, so he often finds himself carting his friends to the grocery store, pharmacy, etc. Sometimes he and Tommy go on late night drives when Tommy's feeling overwhelmed.

That's all I've got for now! In the next few chapters there will be POVs from more cast members, so we'll get to see into their heads a little more :) I hope you enjoy! And thank you so much for the ask! :D

[dreamsgazer]

Hello 🤗, love your works. I know you've done a sick prompt, but I was wondering if you would want to write another sick prompt with a crybaby reader who gets a migraine and (if this doesn't gross you out although this doesn't have to be in great detail ofc) throws up and Tan comforts the reader because they're in pain.

Dear Anon, you have no idea how happy I am to have received this ask, and thank you for your kind words! It means a lot!

I hope I did your request justice!

Warnings: mention of v*mit, nothing graphic at all though, some mild swearing.

MASTERLIST | Requests open, but I'm a bit slow in answering them!

Safe Harbor

The bang of pain makes you open your eyes and wince immediately after.

A migraine. A fucking, painfully horrible migraine.

You knew you shouldn't have indulged in the celebrations for Tangerine's return as much as you did. Too much sweets, too much champagne, too much loud music in the night after your scrumptious dinner together, too much of everything - except for the sex. Frankly, there is no such a thing as too much welcome -back- home- sex.

You fell asleep so happy, and now you feel on the verge of screaming in frustration.

As quietly as you can, not wanting to disturb his sleep, you slip outside the bed, sway down the hall, and reach the bathroom just in time for your stomach to explode.

You feel horrible, gross, and cold, not to mention that running to the toilet has significantly worsened your head's throbbing.

When a second wave of nausea hits, in the middle of the chaos you feel a fresh hand pressing against your sweaty forehead, while your hair is kept away from your face, wrapped in a rudimental ponytail.

"It's okay love, I've got you. Breathe."

Tangerine.

Of course, he woke up. He's such a light sleeper that you wonder if he sleeps at all or just lays down with his eyes closed.

You want to tell him you are sorry you interrupted his rest, you are sorry he has to see you in such a state, you are sorry for being sorry for something you can't control, but all you can do is whimper weakly that you have a migraine.

When the worse has passed, he helps you to sit with your back against the cold, tiled wall of your bathroom. Tangerine immediately notices how you wince when the faint dawn light hits your face, and quickly closes the roll shutters.

"Thank you," you murmur, letting tears slip down your flushed cheeks "I'm sorry."

"What the fuck are you sorry about?".

You gesture at yourself with trembling fingers, too much in pain to even contemplate a witty retort.

He shakes his head, kneeling before you "Let's bring you back to bad, shall we?"

The thought of standing and walking makes you want to cry a bit harder than you are already doing, and you lean on him without shame, wetting his bare shoulder with your tears, and whimpering at every step. He holds you while you wash your face and rinse your mouth, and not once he looks bothered of how slow and whining you are being.

When you are finally laying down on the stupidly costly sheets Tangerine insisted to gift you some months ago, he firmly orders you to wait for him there, while he goes and searches for some ibuprofen in your cabinets.

When you don't reply with one of your retorts, he frowns "That much in pain, uh?"

"Migraines suck," you whisper softly, closing your eyes once more.

Tangerine presses his lips against your forehead, his words tender on your skin "Be back in a second, alright, love?"

Swallowing the tab and the water goes more smoothly than you thought, thanks to his strong arm holding your shoulders, but you can't help rolling on your side and groaning when your brain crashes against your temples with a spasm.

Yep, this definitely sucks.

The mattress dips when Tangerine slides next to you, his arm holding you close to his side, comfortably resting between his chest and those biceps you love to hold on to so much.

"Try to get some sleep, beautiful, it'll help."

"I doubt it," you whimper bitterly, snuggling even closer to him. Despite the shower he took when he arrived at your apartment, his skin carries a faint track of cigarette and vetiver from his perfume.

Perhaps it doesn't help with the migraine, but it's a welcome reminder you are not alone and he's returned safely from his last mission.

"Trust me," he insists with a huff "When you are in pain, nothing is like some good, old sleep."

Well, you guess that when it comes to pain, he has way more experience than you, so maybe his advice is not so wrong.

"Thank you for being so patient with me," you whisper, kissing his scarred skin. His moustache tickles the tip of your nose in return, and he grunts "Don't mention it."

Tangerine is an exceptional partner, in many ways, but you know he still feels funny when you praise him for being kind, or gentle, or nice to you.

He's used to being strong, in control as much as he can, tough to the point of breaking himself before letting anything happen to Lemon or you, once he allowed himself to welcome your relationship in his heart.

You guessed a long time ago that a successful assassin cannot afford to be perceived as anything less than deadly dangerous, and from the bits he told you about his and Lemon's childhood, being praised was dramatically rare.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Considering all of this, the fact that he lets you see the side of him that adores cuddles, gentle teasing, and plain affection feels like a privilege.

Your breaths synchronize, and you feel your eyelids heavy.

"Tangerine," you murmur and he kisses your forehead again in silent acknowledgement "I'm really happy you are here."

A moment of silence, and perhaps you can feel his body pressing even more into yours before he answers quietly about breakfast together in the morning and a day just for the two of you.

If you liked it, please feel free to comment and reblog! I truly appreciate it.

[kairiscorner]

Hello and goodevening po!! Can I ask for a Miles x Gn!Filipino!Reader where the two have been bsfs since like middle school and they've just started dating and one day reader's family invites him over for dinner where they serve adobo and pork sinigang, and him and the parents are just casually talking while the little siblings are being complete chismosas abt y'all and stuff and when your finally only with him in your room and everything is romantic your brothers are lit just stalking y'all and suddenly teasing you and your just chasing them out embarassed 😭

(Aaah i'm really writing this in the notes app for practice bcs this is my first request but i just can't get this out of my head 😭😭😭, also pls take your time on this time, don't need to rush and gl on that miguel fanfic!! <33)

AH HI !! DWDW, thank you btw <:DD (mgee it's just sitting in my gdocs collecting dust LOL) BUT GOOD LUCK WITH WRITING THAT TOO ON YOUR END, I HOPE YOU LIKE WHAT I MADE <333

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

gonna admit it? miles x gn!filipino!reader

summary: you and miles are just really good friends, but your family wishes you two were a little more than that–and your siblings are eager to witness how in love you both are with each other. word count: 1,184

you invited miles over for dinner, which was common practice in your family's household. he wasn't any stranger to this custom, in fact, he treated your family as if they were his own. he got along with your parents quite well, calling them 'tio' and 'tia' and extending his hand out to them to receive their blessing. he was who your parents wanted for you, a decent guy who was respectful, cheerful, helpful and loving–but you and miles swore there was nothing going on between you two.

"i just really care about them a lot, tio, tia." he said as he got himself another bowl of adobo. you pretended to gag as you got yourself a pork sinigang, which miles rolled his eyes and smirked at. you two had this silly little rivalry between you two where all friendships would be forgotten when adobo and sinigang were on the table; he always chose adobo, and you always chose sinigang–never the other way around. your parents chuckled to each other and shot a devious look at you and asked you if you and miles weren't lying, to which you chortled out your response. "siyempre naman po, i'd never pick a boy who'd choose adobo over sinigang, no..." you muttered as miles made a yapping motion with his hand that mocked your expression as you spoke, eliciting laughter from your younger siblings as he laughed along silently with them.

you shot them an intimidating look and kicked miles lightly in the shin to get him to stop being so smug as your parents smiled to themselves, finishing their meals as you and miles still bickered in a friendly way on how adobo and sinigang are better than the other. you loved miles, apart from his–what you believed–very twisted way on taking the adobo versus sinigang debate, and was extremely happy to be his friend. you have known miles ever since middle school, and since then, you two have never been anywhere without the other. most of your friends had shipped you and him together, going on and on about how cute of a couple you two would be.

your family was obviously no stranger to this incessant pairing between you two, and you were relieved they liked miles enough to treat him like he was family, but you absolutely hated how annoying they got whenever you mentioned him or they saw your posts on instagram with him in the pictures. like tonight, your parents kept asking you subtly (and not so subtly) for hints between you two, if you two changed your minds and were secretly dating now, or...? well, you didn't have to think about your answer too much, because the answer was the same as always: siyempre, hindi.

your parents pretended to believe you as you and miles were going to head upstairs to your room to just hang out, your dad stopped miles on the way and reminded him not to do anything stupid with you, and shot you a look of warning, as well, as your mother chimed in and told you the living room was a better option to 'hang out'. you tried telling your parents nothing weird or dangerous would happen anyway, while miles poked fun at you from behind to entertain your little siblings–making silly faces behind your back as you spoke.

you turned around quickly as soon as your parents finally let you and miles go, smiling a little at miles' funny faces. you rolled your eyes at him as you took him by the hand and dragged him up along the stairs. your little siblings followed you two up without you knowing, and they were giggling to themselves as they snooped around and watched you two, hoping you two would finally kiss.

you and miles just sat on tour bed together, not really doing much but just teasing each other. miles really refuses to let go on his love for adobo, and you refuse to let down your stance that sinigang is superior. amid your friendly argument, you started to tickle miles to get him to let up his side. miles cried out for you to stop tickling him through peals of laughter as you laughed alongside him and tickled him even more. your siblings were watching you both by the door and squealing in delight to themselves as they took out their phones to film and capture this moment, while also debating on which ship name would be better for you two.

your tickle fight with miles wasn't one-sided, as miles tickled you back with full force, causing you to squeal out in laughter as you tried to subdue him. your siblings watched the whole scene unfold, and their hopes that you two would get closer was fulfilled when miles accidentally got on top of you as his tickling got a little out of hand. you both quit tickling each other and laughing as you were both now face-to-face with each other so up close. "i... i can, um, sorry. i-i'll get off now." miles stuttered in embarrassment as he tried to get off you, but you held him by the shoulders and gently pulled him back down closer to you. "huwag, ah... please stay." you pleaded with him as your face felt hotter as you pulled him closer.

miles smiled as he got more flustered in the face and did as you asked him to. "alright, but you'll admit adobo is better, right?" he asked you in a teasing voice as you cursed him out playfully and smacked him lightly on the arm. your siblings couldn't handle it anymore and squealed loudly as you two got closer. they screamed in utter delight at how adorable you two looked, and as you heard them, you momentarily got off from under miles and creaked the door open slowly as your siblings celebrated your admission of feelings towards him--well, almost admission of feelings, at least.

you coughed loudly, which made your siblings turn to face you slowly, as a raging fire was kindled up in your eyes, you screamed at them and told them to hand you their phones and never to speak of what they witnessed to any living soul, ever. "SINASABI KO SA INYO, MUMULTUHIN KO KAYO, KAHIT PAG PATAY NA AKO, 'PAG PINAKITA NINYO SA KAHIT SINO YAN, HUMANDA KAYO SAKIN!" you exclaimed as your siblings ran away from you, with miles poking his head out the door as he watched you hunt down your siblings and see them begging for mercy from you as you waved your slippers around to scare them even more. he chuckled as he leaned against the door frame, calling out to them, "hey, send me the videos and pics! i gotta have a copy of them!"

you berated miles from a distance as you kept threatening your siblings never to tell your parents or anyone about what they saw. though miles doesn't mind if anyone else knew about you two like that... he'd like to know from you yourself how much further this 'friendship' between you two will go.

[psychokinetic-ectoplasm]

Hello! I been dealing with eating disorders for a time and reading your writing makes me happy, I was wondering if you could write something about Ray being supportive about this :D thanks

Thank you for this ask!! I hope I did your request justice! This is rather out of my depth, but I did my best. I hope you like it 😁

Also here on Ao3

Under the cut for length

No Matter What

You hadn't expected Ray to drop by when he did, still in his flight suit from having been on a bust. Thankfully, he was slime-free, and while you were happy to see your Ghostbuster boyfriend, you still wish you had known he'd be coming over.

Your only warning was a knock on the door before he opened it. He had a key, after all.

“Hey, sweetheart, you in? I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by to see you. Oh, and uh… the guys dropped me off, so I could use a ride back to the Firehouse later if you don't mind. If not, I can take a cab.”

As he spoke, his voice was getting closer, letting you know he was headed your way into the kitchen. You had just done your grocery shopping and still had bags on the counter. Bags of multiples of the same things. There was no way you could keep him from seeing, so you simply stood there, bracing yourself. This wasn't something you'd ever really talked to Ray about…

Ray stepped into the kitchen, grinning when he saw you. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” he greeted and pecked your lips.

“Hi, Ray.”

“Sorry for just dropping by like this. I probably should've called.” He looked at the counter. “Oh, hey, let me help you put all this away!” Ray stopped short, apparently realizing just what all you had. “Wow. You certainly stock up.”

Your face got hot. Well, there was no use hiding it now… “It's pretty much all I'll eat.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, it's… well, I have this thing... an eating disorder…” you admitted, unable to look at him. “I have my whole life. It's just… something I've learned to live with. There are only certain foods I'll eat that won't make me feel sick.”

In a way, finally getting this out in the open felt like a huge weight lifted from your shoulders, but you still wondered about his reaction. You'd been in a relationship with Ray for months now, but somehow, you'd managed to play this off as you just being a picky eater. 

“Is that why you, uh… never wanted to go out to eat on dates?”

You nodded, still not looking up.

“Hey… You know you don't have to hide anything from me,” he murmured, trying to get you to look at him.

“I know, but…”

Ray took your face in his hands and sweetly kissed your forehead. “No, no ‘buts.’ No matter what it is, I'm with you one hundred percent. You're not alone in this.”

“Even if I'm being picky?” you asked, looking up at him with a wan smile.

Ray drew you into his arms and cuddled you close. “You can be as picky as you want. I just want you happy and healthy.” He smiled warmly and nuzzled your nose. “And you know I love you, sweetheart. You and all that entails.”

You blushed and ducked your head, nodding. “Yeah, I know.”

He put a finger under your chin and tilted your face toward his, his lips softly pressing against yours. “Then you know you have me, forever and always, no matter what.”

You reached up to lightly caress his cheek, a bit mesmerized by the softness in his gaze. “I love you, too, Ray.”

It might take a little bit to get used to, but you believed him. How could you not when he was looking at you like you hung the moon, like you were the single most wonderful person in the whole world? Only Ray could do that. He could make you feel that you could take on the world with him by your side. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

[dovithedarklord]

Age of Monsters - Chapter Ten

Pairing: OFC x Simon "Ghost" Riley, OFC x König

Tags: Slow Burn, Slow Build, Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, POV First Person, Not Beta Read, Medical Inaccuracies, Military Inaccuracies, AFAB OC

Trigger Warning: The story will contain violance, blood and smut in detail. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

...................................

Author's Note

The small team is presented with a new kind of problem, and Leona investigates Riley's strange behavior.

Hello!

I don't have a specific Trigger Warning for today's chapter! But again, I'll probably have some in the next one! :D

Have fun!

I.M.L. - Infected mammalian lifeform. I.H.L. - An infected humanoid lifeform.

if you're interested you can find the story on AO3: Chapter Ten

..........................................

Under my eyelids, the whole body of the soldier lying on his hospital bed becomes a map interwoven with a complex network of blood vessels, and I search for injuries, so that when I reach to the broken ribs and bruised internal organs, I can help the tissues heal with a very nice little push of my energy. Ever since our little team got back, I've been working on patching up the surviving soldiers, while Riley disappeared along with MacTavish, who already looked a thousand times better, to alert their other two companions, because they had to hear the crap we went through, after which our little team returned crippled, beaten and reduced in numbers. Riley didn't have to say a word for me to begin acting on my benevolent role and escorting their wounded mortal comrades to the infirmary. Of course, I don't do this out of the goodness of my heart, but mostly because I suspect that Price would certainly not be happy if I would let these poor bastards meet their maker, just because I don't feel like straining my pretty little body with so many tasks in one night. Another more pressing reason is that while I fix the physical integrity of these guys, I still have time to reflect on what happened.

And the more I run through the whole series of events in my head, which destroyed the entire bombproof plan in the blink of an eye, the more I'm sure that it wasn't the virus that got to a magical evolutionary peak and helped to give birth to a completely new kind of humanoid mutant. Even if the development of the pathogen had been accelerated, it wouldn't take just a year and a half to go from a brainless idiot to a beast carrying out organized attacks and capable of planning tricks. And this explanation just stirs up more questions in my skull, because even though I worked in the field and studied the behavior of these assholes for years, I can't think of anything that could have caused this. Provided that someone didn't interfere with the order of nature intentionally. But who would be so idiotic to pronounce the death sentence on humanity with this? And although I know that people can be mean, evil, and most of all stupid, but not to this extent. No one can be this suicidal, because the fear of death and terror is a much greater motivational force to not delve into such dangerous games. Of course, if the chance of something happening is not zero, that will never be a factor that can be ruled out.

When the last broken bone has mended together and all the damaged organs have regenerated, I just silently step back from the man resting on the bed, who looks up at me and mutters a quite "thank you", but my brain is too far gone for that. Without any further comment, I head towards the door of the infirmary, so that I can finally go to the place where I can release the many hypotheses swirling in my head and discuss with those who, along with me, have experienced what kind of new hell can be unleashed on the world.  Because the fact that these bastards behave intelligently and are able to corner S-Class Hunters is more than worrisome. We've been lucky so far because these monsters have also learned that if they don't stray too close to the colonies, they can get away without the Hunters making mittens out of their flayed skin. Of course, this is also a fragile balance, where random attacks still could happen starting from the yellow zone, but it’s a system that has been operating for fifty years, and is mainly held together by the Holy Spirit. And although Hunters are always born, and there are a few idiots every year who join liquidation units as soldiers, still, the number of our defense and that of mutants is not even, to say the least. Moreover, in light of the new developments concerning humans, we have theorized that within a few years, we will be more and more outnumbered by the infected lifeforms. But this… this puts this very friendly prediction into a new perspective.

My hasty steps thump loudly in the empty silence of the base, and I find it surprising that the commotion caused by our arrival didn't attract more attention from the busy little soldiers living here. Although I suspect that at this moment, the most advantageous thing to do is to remain quiet, since creating fear with insufficient information would be the stupidest thing we could do right now. Even if, with the available data, the subsequent events won’t be much better. And the sinister foreboding, fighting with sharp claws in my mind, keeps telling me that this little trifle is the result of some huge blunder, the consequence of which we will nobly bear now. And I secretly hope that Laswell and her omnipresent hand will make sure that the thousands of questions arising in me will be answered. Although I know that this is mostly a futile dream, because that is exactly why she sent us there, only to return with even more unclear circumstances and question marks.

I make my way to Price's office in the heart of the base as quickly as I have never done before, and I suspect that restlessness and the desire for knowledge make my steps so damn springy after the stress and adventures of the last few hours. And I could even muse about the fact, that it's quite irrational of me to be so interested in the new risk threatening the colonies, and I could even argue that in order to keep my peace, as a simple Healer, it's not my concern to worry about this. But rationality has always been stronger in me, and it alerts me that there is no corner of the world where I can escape to, if what we've experienced today develops into a worldwide problem. And this has the potential of becoming one. In any case, my renewed selfless soul wouldn't let its new little squad down. No matter how much the latest incidents promise new complications in addition to my life which is already full of excitement.

As soon as the door to Price's den appears in front of me at the end of the familiar corridor, I see the restless movement of several shadows in the light filtering under the doorstep, and it's clear from the muffled muttering, that they are just as excited by the thrills we encountered during the mission as I am. And as I get closer, I catch the worried grumble of the captain, as he surely tries to get more information from the two Hunters with enthusiastic questioning, and despite the fact that I can't see through the walls, I can still imagine the serious expression on the man's face. That's why I don't hesitate any longer, but after a soft knock as a courtesy, without waiting for an answer, I reveal the entrance to the office, only to be met almost immediately by five pairs of rather grim eyes, that settle on my approaching figure at the same time. And after I survey the people gathered in the dim room, my gaze almost instinctively finds MacTavish, who is resting in his chair next to the table, now wearing civilian clothes instead of his earlier tattered ones. There is now a significantly more human color to his face, even though his features are now dominated by an unusual sullenness, which softens just a shade when he turns his attention to me. The edge of his stubble-framed mouth moves upwards into a faint curve, and it almost physically hurts to see the gloom that settles over his entire being. And I can assess it quite well that this is for the failed campaign and our diminished team.

"Woods!" Price addresses me, when he snaps out of the surprise caused by my arrival, and as he scans over me quickly, a small smile appears on his face. "I'm glad you're in one piece." He adds, and the fact doesn't escape my attention that, regardless of his delight, he lingers on my rather battered person for a few long seconds, and it feels good for the hidden little corner of my soul as I catch the sparks of concern glimmering in those sky blue eyes. I almost find this paternal worry to be sweet, but now is not the time for this in the least, no matter how much my brain wants to go off on disgustingly sentimental tangents.

"Yeah, I almost ended up in several." I note rather darkly, and I also cruise over to the table with just a few quick steps, and driven by the bubbling tension under my skin, I don't even notice that for some reason I automatically arrive at Riley's side, who just silently turns his head towards at me as I appear next to him. Our gaze only meets for a fleeting moment, but that's enough for me to observe that in some magical way, he lacks the distance that has been a constant guest in those chocolate eyes. And this would even make my morbid little heart skip a beat with the honor, if his pious behavior didn't arouse suspicion in me, in light of how enthusiastically I disregarded his orders earlier.

"Ghost and Soap gave a broad outline of what happened." Laswell also joins the conversation, who seems to have been so interested in the outcome of the excitement she brought here that she stayed here to wait for the news. And from the line of her thinly pressed lips, it's clear that she the story she got was far off from what she wanted to hear. And the evil little voices in my brain warn me to watch every reaction of the woman carefully, because if my assumption is correct and this whole mess is the work of humans, then our informant was either honestly unsuspecting, or she's hiding it damn well that she was aware of the hornet's nest she was sending us into. And although I would like to believe that she was barking up the wrong tree as much as we did, it crosses my mind once again that what cannot be completely ruled out is still a potential possibility.

"We've had our fair share of excitement." I draw my mouth into a rather cynical smile, and I don't try to hide the sarcastic edge in my voice, because it wouldn't make any sense. I suspect that my mood is shared by Riley and his Scottish friend, whose dark eyebrows seem unable to separate from each other, because they hold the gloomy expression with unbroken enthusiasm that, according to my intuition, has been on his face since he regained consciousness. "Fortunately, you won't miss out on the experience either." I announce pointedly, and as I reach for the camera resting on my vest, suddenly all eyes are focuses on the gadget with intense curiosity, which my skillful fingers peel from the cavalcade of the many pockets with ease. And when the device is finally off of me, my free hand automatically searches for my communicator from my side pocket to prepare for the early morning movie screening. They're in for a real treat.

"How much did you manage to record?" Price turns to me again, and when the wry smile sitting on my lips softens into a single motionless line, he unspokenly understands the sheer ominous graveness emanating from my expression. And since he can guess that my sourness is not for our impromptu late-night slumber party, I know from the deep, troubled wrinkles appearing on his forehead that he understands how horrible the recording can be, which I have collected in such an artistic manner.

"Just enough." I state succinctly, and I don't even need to add more to the introduction of the documented material, because it perfectly sums up my feelings. Pulling out the connector on the side of the communicator, I insert it into the input of the camera, and everyone watches tensely as I conjure up the video with a few button presses, the existence of which may have been forgotten by everyone until I entered, but fortunately, my memory spins sharper than ever from the stress that still lingers in me.

And when the barren road marking the edge of the combat zone appears, looming with blue light, I place the gadget in the middle of the table and flick on the frozen image of the hologram to begin the presentation of the bedtime story. The first few minutes pass with almost disturbing uneventfulness, as our small team confidently moves forward towards the heart of the city that houses only rotting remains. But my attention doesn't waver, and my frustrated brain, demanding answers, focuses more intently than ever before, circling every square millimeter of the footage that is presented to me. Because now that it's finally not preoccupied with the rescuing of my fellow Scotsman, and not the horror of the mission turned into chaos dominates my mind, I have the free brainpower to wonder how long they could have been watching us. They outwitted the expertly hidden traps with such vileness and attacked our group in such close coordination, that it’s almost impossible that this was all just a random phenomenon committed out of an impulse. No. These bastards have been monitoring us from the very beginning.

The video cuts to our parting at the observation point, and even though I suddenly see only the uniforms of the two Hunters and all the equipment lined up on them, it still flashes in my mind with what high hopes and confidence MacTavish reassured me that this whole operation couldn't end badly.  How sad that after I continue to stroll to the overpass and take my place, we can admire up close how fast everything went awry. The room watches with tense concentration as the events take place in quick succession, and I still can't find anything wrong with the way the little soldiers skillfully set the traps intended for surprise with nimble movements. But, when the noise of the sound alarm slowly filters through the video with a muffled screech, the first unmistakable wrinkles of confusion and astonishment soon appear on everyone. Because the human-like creatures emerge, and even though they are much smaller than how I saw them through my binoculars due to the distance, I still manage to follow them perfectly as they throw themselves into the line of sensors first with jerky movements and then with frantic haste. That's when the first startled voice breaks out from Garrick, who watches with growing bewilderment as the mouth of the nest slowly begins to pour out hordes of mutants like an unstoppable flood. The pale moving flashes of the hologram are reflected in his dark eyes with a ghostly light, and this only emphasizes the disbelief that is held there even more.

And since I know that the best is yet to come, I direct my focus to the corner of the footage, because the star of the evening will make its impressive entrance within minutes, and I'm not willing to miss a single second of it. For an uncertain moment, it seems as if the smudge on the roof of the ruined building is just a speck of dust floating in the air, but I know that it is that dirtbag. Even I acknowledge this deformed lowlife, because it sneaks out of the ruins with such masterful invisibility that I still only notice its appearance a few fleeting seconds earlier than I did hours ago. And the possibility arises in my mind that maybe it could have avoided the position of the soldiers operating on the ground from another underpass, because there wasn't only one subway stop like that in a city. If these scumbags inhabited the entire subway network, they could have emerged from anywhere that hadn't yet degraded into a crumbling pile of garbage. And this means that we had no chance to surround them from the beginning, because they could have thrown themselves at us from literally anywhere.

Although the video doesn't fully reflect the reality, the mutant and its rider offer at least an unnatural sight as they did in real life, as they stop at the edge of the building and with noble simplicity direct their little buddies who are lying in wait towards MacTavish's team. And now that I have time to analyze the whole interaction more soberly, I notice how the I.H.L.s standing by on the ground look up to their leader with devoted attention, and they move as a team when, they carry out the silent order with almost blind obedience, as if they had been secretly practicing this for some time in their dirty little home. Which still doesn't sound much less unlikely.

"What the hell is going on?" The confused question breaks out from Garrick, and one of his fingers is points at the humanoid monster climbing down on the building, who starts its calm little walk towards the battlefield with such grace and pride, as if it had just gone on a peaceful evening sightseeing. I perfectly understand the Hunter's surprise, because even for the second time I can't find an explanation for the whole surreal event. And this only awakens impatient frustration in my mind, because instead of observing new details, I only find more incomprehensible puzzles.

"What is that?" Laswell fixes her bright eyes on me, and as I divert my searching gaze from the recording for a moment, I carefully study the expression hiding on her face. The troubled fine wrinkles that run between her eyebrows emerging from under her hair look sincere, and the concerned sparks that appear in her eyes don't seem to be the result of contrived acting. Although I have no illusions that this woman can play with her facial expressions as effectively as she can retrieve anything that comes out of our little mouth when needed, but I'm also well-versed in studying others to know when someone is trying to trick me. And now she urges me to answer with the genuine astonishment of the first shock. Based on this, she was kept in the dark at least as effectively as we were. In other words, there is still a corner of this world where the influence of the woman, unfortunately, doesn't reach, and this leads directly to the not-insignificant fact that if there is a human hand in this, then it will belong to one of the highly prestigious members of the higher authority.

"An I.H.L." I finally give the curt answer, and despite the fact that I don't indulge in further explanations, she still understands how terrible news this means for us. Because she snaps her head back to the unfathomable chaos unfolding on the recording with such speed that it makes even me dizzy.

The tension is palpable in the silence that slowly fills every corner of the office, and nothing else echoes from the white walls than my panting and pounding footsteps, which are filtered through the video, as I wander the deserted streets in search of MacTavish. And although the camera shakes wildly as it tosses and turns in the middle of my rush, it's still possible to follow my path perfectly to the location of the Hunter with the mohawk. And when I finally arrive, from the wall of the building that serves as my hiding place, only a part of the view that greeted me upon my arrival can be seen, but it's enough for me to catch on my periphery, how the Scotsman's fists are clenched with painful force in his lap, as a blood-soaked hand appears in the tumult of many feasting monsters. There's no doubt that he blames himself for his team's unfortunate end, and I'd love to give him a little of my selfishness to ease the paralyzing pain and disappointment in his eyes. Because even though I know that he isn't an innocent sheep either, he doesn't deserve to fall into despair like this because he couldn't avoid the slap that this unfortunate situation gave him.

The time comes for my dramatic entrance, and the sight of the mangled bodies of dead mutants on the ground still fills me with morbid joy. But I don't have to wait long, because soon a completely new excitement occupies my attention, because the mutant-riding scum appears again in the alley, preparing to attack. Riley's body imperceptibly tenses up from the sight, and I only take a furtive glance at him. Every cell of him radiates pure rage, and I haven't been able to catch this reaction yet, even though I've tried quite enthusiastically to rile him up previously. His fingers, which are still covered in blood-soaked gloves, are squeezed around the thick table top, and when the large piece of furniture creaks from the fury directed at it, for a moment it feels as if he would want to tear the furnishing apart with his bare hands. And I have a suspicion, that although the helpless anger felt due to the injury of his comrade and the failure of the mission may also contribute to his sore mood, my keen little senses tell me that something else is going on here. Because it's only when he catches my searching gaze, that he manages to steer himself back into his usual cold indifference with great difficulty. My eyes just narrow cautiously as, unusually for him, instead of any kind of unfriendly remark he turns his attention back to the video, where he has now also made his brilliant appearance and sets off on the way back, hauling MacTavish on his shoulders. And from this strange reaction, I quite understandably come to the conclusion, that something is very fucking wrong with him.

As soon as the recorded material ends, the footage shown on the hologram freezes again, leaving behind nothing but confusion, anger, and sinister silence. It's no wonder, because countless things happened in this video that no one could have foreseen, not even in their wildest dreams. The mission, which started as a simple nest extermination, concluded in such an ugly massacre that ended with the death of a dozen soldiers, after which we returned home with their few survived, but tormented companions, without answers. And this will be a hard pill to swallow for everyone. Including me.

"What the hell was that?" Garrick finally speaks after digesting what he has seen for few tense moments, and his voice is filled with the same anxious temper that slowly appears in definite outlines on the faces of his captain and Laswell as well. And his look says that he wants to ask a thousand more questions, but after the information he received, which is shocking, to say the least, he can only formulate this one sentence, because suddenly he isn’t capable of doing more.

"I don't know, but it sure wasn't normal." I state immediately, and at this point, my brain feverishly begins to organize the data so that I can present all my grim observations and assumptions to the small team that have formed in me so far. And there are quite a few of them. "They carried out an organized attack. They bypassed the traps and followed orders. And that bastard used a specific strategy and a weapon." I summarize the essence briefly, emphasizing each word, and although I could list a whole bunch of other smart observations, it wouldn't change the fact that this damned monster surprised us all with something completely new.

"But how?" Garrick asks his next anxious question, and his mouth is pressed into an angry line that rarely surfaces on the man's face. A thick vein appears on his neck as his entire being begins to radiate wild waves of irritation, and it seems as if he's considering to reach through the footage and grab that infected piece of trash to end its little fun with his own two hands.

"I have no idea." I finally answer, and with a tired sigh I straighten up, browsing through all the knowledge I've acquired over the years to put together everything that started this whole sinister train of thought in me. "The virus also attacks the structures of the brain that enable a person to see cause-and-effect relationships and consequences, logical thinking ceases completely. The instinctual level remains, because this is beneficial to the virus. It drives the host to spread it and survive. An infected person is unable to follow orders because they cannot interpret verbal or advanced non-verbal communication codes." I explain, and the vast amount of research data that I have been lucky enough to come across over the years flashes before my mind's eye, based on which the leader of the small mutant team is such an incomprehensible and no less dangerous enigma, the solution to which must be found as soon as possible, if we want to enjoy our approximately peaceful life in the future. Because I'm sure that if there is one such individual, there are more, and it's only a matter of time before they decide to play soldier and attack the first colony that gets in their way.

"But they still followed I.H.L.'s." MacTavish breaks his silence for the first time, and the annoyed lines on his forehead deepen as he articulates his observation, and they continue to hold their position on the Hunter's face with almost inexorable stubbornness.

"That's exactly the problem." I confirm the essence perfectly captured by the man, because this is exactly what further complicates the already tangled events. "That I.H.L. showed intelligent behavior that contradicts everything we know so far. It took the I.M.L.s ten years to gather into hordes, and it took the infected humans only a year and a half to get further?" I formulate the problem that has been maturing in the depths of my brain since I first had the opportunity to look back a little and understand what I witnessed. And my suggestion seems to set off a spark of suspicion in the other members of the small group as well, because the anger on their faces softens and a completely new kind of gloom takes its place when they understand what I want to imply.

"It doesn't seem very likely." The captain agrees, directing his eyes back to me, and with this, he puts into words the uncertainity that is slowly but surely digging its sharp little claws into everyone's head. And I know that even without my little scientific lecture, they've seen enough mutants to realize that there's very little chance that there's just Mother Nature's graceful hand in this whole fucking upheaval.

"Because it's not."  I affirm their unspoken doubt, and with that, the dilemma is also put on the table, which has been settling on my consciousness like an oppressive ghost for some time, to further feed the frustration raging inside me. "The virus is still the same as it was fifty years ago. It has undergone a slight mutation, but the infection itself is the same. The same way of spreading, the same course, the same effect." I list the facts, pointing my index finger meaningfully at the still motionless recording emerging from the communicator. "This is not the work of nature here." I give the final push to my long-winded argument, thereby also cementing the friendly thought in them that this excitement is probably the gift to those who shove them from one dangerous action to another as their lapdogs.

"Are you sure? " Price asks, his deep voice ringing with a seriousness that leaves no room for any jokes or uncertainty. He also knows exactly that if this is true, then we are embarking on a complicated game that won't only be difficult to untangle, but also downright life-threatening, and not only because new kinds of monsters are lurking on us. Once someone starts pulling out the skeletons, there is a fear that the whole closet will topple over. If we go down this road, we may come across information that makes mutants not the only threat.

"Quite." I state firmly, and I keep the man's gaze unflinchingly, sending the message with every inch of me that I couldn't take my rather dangerous little accusations more seriously than this. And I know that they have enough experience with higher management to agree with me, as they have experienced firsthand what radical methods they are willing to resort to if the need calls for it.

"Woods is right. I've never seen anythin' like the bastard who tried to kill me." MacTavish joins in, thereby confirming the I.H.L.'s unusual nature. And I'm sure that in the couple of years he spent in the profession, he was lucky enough to meet enough monsters to know that our new little friend, who almost stabbed him to death, is a far cry from his usual playmates.

"We don't have enough information to know anything for sure." Price notes cautiously, and despite the tense edge appearing in his tone, he remains perfectly stern, as a true leader does. Although I know that he would rather break the neck of whoever is responsible for this whole fucking mess. "But it's certain that we got involved in the shit that someone else stirred." He adds, and smooths one of his large palms meaningfully on the top of his table, almost illustrating the pile of crap we stumbled upon. And I don’t doubt that everyone agrees with this observation, even if it's only indicated by a silent nod. Because it's more than shady that they send a private unit to an operation with such great urgency, which was selected precisely so that the small problem could be eliminated under the radar and with the greatest possible discretion. A government-run unit would also have been able to exterminate a nest, but since then there would have to be official reports, where the fact of our new mutant-rider friend would have appeared, and then the story would have been over.  And Shepherd didn't run this circle by chance. He's hiding something. And I'm really good at recognizing that, because I, myself, have done that for years myself.

"If this is the work of humans, then there is a trace left somewhere." Laswell joins in, who up until now had been shrouded in gloomy silence digesting the barrage of very steep assumptions and accusations that unfolded during the conversation. But it seems that now she too has found her determination again, and is springing into action with corresponding vehemence. "I'll look into it and let you know as soon as I find something. We have to get to the bottom of this." She states in a tone that excludes all doubts, and almost immediately gets to work as she reaches towards the camera to disconnect it from the communicator with a simple movement and puts it in the pocket of her vest. "Until then, stay alert. Nothing can get out of this." She issues her instructions for the last time, and then, when she receives a nod of agreement from Price, she rushes towards the door of the office and storms away with the same fervor with which she entered the base before our whole disastrous adventure. And I hope that this momentum will help her find something useful, because I have an intuition that we cannot sit on this topic for long, because it will soon escalate into such bloody consequences that could easily cost millions of lives. And although I didn't advance to sainthood either, my pretty ass is also included in these millions, and I specifically fear for my own safety.

"I think this much excitement will be enough for today."  A tired sigh leaves the captain's mouth, and he only strokes his bearded chin with his fingers, trying to pull himself together after the information-saturated discussion. For the first time, he seems really exhausted, and it occurs to me that he may have been awake all night waiting for us to return. "Go rest. Kate definitely won't be back for a while." He directs his words to our trio, who have just returned from the mission, and although I can feel the fatigue eating into my limbs, my brain is still as alert as if I had poured a bucket of coffee down my throat.

And as I look at MacTavish, I realize that I have to agree with the captain, because even if my still actively working brain is not interested in sleep, the Scotsman, despite my professional regeneration, would need to finally position himself horizontally. But what surprises me more is when Riley moves next to me with unexpected suddenness, and without any further comment, he strolls out of the office, as if he would have some desperately important business to attend to somewhere else. Although I could believe that the only reason he leaves this abruptly is because he is burning with the desire to check his surviving little soldiers, but since the beginning of the whole meeting he has been behaving so unusually that his hurries disappearance just deepens my suspicions even more. And I can't get rid of the thought that something is definitely not right with him.

But I can't dwell on this any further, because I feel a warm palm on me, whose strong fingers gently squeeze my shoulder, directing my attention from the doorstep back to the interior of the room. A sincere smile spreads across MacTavish's face, and even though the light eyes are still filled with sadness, they look at me with such warmth that even my rough little heart immediately begins to pay attention.

"Thank you for comin' for me." The man says, and his heavily accented voice is mixed with genuine thankfulness, and I have no doubt that he means it, because gratitude flows from his every fiber, which makes my dark little soul sensitive for no reason. I don't want to share with him what motivation the image of his bloody death in my head and later the sight of his mangled body gave me, because I'm afraid that I would reveal too much about how close he and his small team came to my heart. My pride still doesn't allow me to be emotional, but it's still nice to see him alive and together. Mainly because I'd hate it if my two-person cheerleading squad was down to one.

"Don't forget about your gratitude when it comes to my training." I utter with a rather cheeky undertone, and I let that faint, but no less superior, small smile appear on my face, to finally divert my attention from the memories of the Hunter's injuries, because I can almost feel the wet touch of the warm blood under my fingers even now. And I was never moved by either blood or violence, but the fact that something terrible happened to someone I'd rather see alive is a completely different matter.

"I can't promise anythin'! " He grins as his big hand slips off my shoulder, and it seems that life has returned to him for a minute because of my teasing, since the troubled wrinkles on his forehead are reduced a little, and with this, he regains his healthy glow. And this suits him much better than the mournful misery that dominated his expression not long ago, because it also awakened compassion and pity in a disgusting way in me.

"You were good." Garrick chimes in, who finally seems to have recovered from his stunned silence, and an appreciative light flashes in his dark eyes, which only further feeds the idiotic warmth inside me, for which, despite all my objections and denials, I could kill to continue to feel. Therefore, to gather myself, I straighten up and stretch my tired limbs, like a cat that has woken up from its pleasant afternoon siesta. And I suddenly feel the desperate need to take a shower, because even if I won't be able to sleep because of the hundreds of thoughts raging in my head, my aching muscles still deserve the caress of hot water.

"I know." I reply lightly and without any modesty, but it occurs to me again that if the masked Hunter doesn't jump in so kindly to help, then I wouldn't be able to think about my relaxing bath right now. And this suddenly reawakens my restlessness caused by his behavior, and I don't even understand why I should be so interested in the fact that he acts even more rigidly than usual. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that, due to my observations that turned into a hobby, it became a habit to analyze him, and every new tidbit he shows appears to me as another puzzle waiting to be solved. And this is just a bone for my overworked brain to chew on. And at this point, I decide that maybe it's time to step down before I can weave this fucking cavalcade any longer. "That's why I'm leaving now. That's enough for one evening." I declare, and now I don't even try to hide the exhaustion in my voice, which is pulling at every fiber of my body like heavy weights. This gives me enough momentum, and guided by this, I set off with one last wave to my other three little friends, already standing under the warm stream of water in my imagination.

"Get some rest." Price calls out after me, and as I turn back and meet his gaze for a moment, I find the unspoken message in his eyes, which conveys to me that I should take advantage of the rest now, because I won't have the opportunity for this luxury, if Laswell returns with the intel. And I can fully agree with this intuition, so without any further comments I say goodbye to the small group with a curt nod, and then go on my way down the deserted corridor bathed in neon light.

And as I get farther and farther away from the captain's office with my sluggish steps, and the empty silence of the base engulfs me, my thoughts return to the events of the evening. And interestingly enough, now my nerves are not obsessing over the new mutant threat, but rather Riley appears in my brain once more, as he towers above me in the dark street, staring down at me with his wild eyes glowing in red. And I can still feel the uncontrollable power emanating from him, which awakened the tingling sensation in my stomach, that appears in some inexplicable way near him. I can't pinpoint what it is, but it keeps drawing my attention back to the man, as if his whole being would be a magnet that my mind can't resist. I could justify this by saying that the relationship between the two of us is far from peachy, and that is why I dedicate so much time to studying him, but a small voice in the hidden recesses of my subconscious tells me that there is more to it than that. And even if I bend and break, I can't articulate what this motivation is that pushes me towards him, apart from my pettiness and my morbid curiosity.

My boots echo with a muffled pounding on the walls of the lifeless base, and by now those who came to help our returning defeated group after our arrival have also disappeared. And I'm a little sorry that I can now make my way to my room alone, because that way there is nothing to distract me from my train of thought, which is quite irritatingly focuses on the masked Hunter. And as the road leading to my little room appears in front of me, I stop dead in my tracks for a second. Because to the left of me stretches the corridor, at the end of which Riley's door is located, with a dull light filtering under the threshold, which makes it clear that even though he was running away so enthusiastically earlier, he still couldn't rest. So I was right to guess that he didn't rush off in such a hurry because he was worried about his men, which begs the question of what could make the always stoic man act with such unusual urgency. Because normally, he would have long since started an enthusiastic discussion with Price or thrown himself into work, but now he was gone with a haste that is rarely seen. And when the rather recent memory of his fingers closing with terrible force around the top of Price's large desk flashes through my mind, my legs almost automatically change direction and carry me forward toward the man's door, even though I know it's probably an even dumber idea than playing a one-person rescue squad. Still, the desire to calm my uncertainty is stronger than the warning voices in my skull, and the doubt inside me gives me the impetus to gallop through the dark walls with unbroken determination.

And when I arrive at the door, without thinking, one of my hands goes up knocks softly. Unmoving silence greets me for a fleeting moment, and it occurs to me that I may have misjudged the situation, and perhaps the man really left earlier because of some urgent plan he couldn't postpone. But then the sound of heavy footsteps hits my sharp little ears, and a second later the entrance to the apartment opens before me. And I raise my eyebrows in confusion as I catch a glimpse of the pair of glowing crimson eyes fixed on me, and the man's previous strange behavior immediately makes sense. Because the fact flashes in my mind that since my arrival I've been lucky enough to recharge all of his little friends, except for him, thanks to which I can now enjoy every threatening wave of hot energy flowing from him. Although I know that S-class Hunters, and perhaps he even more so, are able to reserve their small stores for a long time, especially if they don't use their ability often, but this is a game that cannot be dragged on indefinitely. Tonight's party seems to have pushed him over the edge, in a direction that has the potential to turn him into a raging lunatic. And a fierce spark of rage awakens in me when I understand that he would rather drive himself to madness than let my evil little hands help him. Why else would he have dragged this shit until now?

"What are you doin’ here?" The legitimate question comes from him, and his deep voice sounds more hoarse than usual, as if he would have to force himself to pronounce this simple sentence calmly and humanely enough. And it's undoubtedly true, because he hasn't regenerated for two and a half months, and even professionals like him suffer from it. No matter how strong he is, it doesn't matter if he is capable of taking down an entire colony with his two hands, he cannot escape the curse of his kind, which sooner or later drives every Hunter close to a Healer. He is no exception to this, even if it hurts both of us to admit it.

"You look like shit." I remark simply, and although I’m able to suppress the anger that is growing in me, I cannot push the mockery out of my voice, which infuses my words like poison. I'd like to think we've gotten over this animosity, but I'm not naive, I know I'm not the favorite person of this tough guy, but he can't be so stupid as to put his little comrades' safety in jeopardy. And although I understand why he tries so vehemently to push me away, because I suspect that despite my saint-like behavior so far, he still very much remembers how our little relationship started, but now even I admit that in this situation we both need to get rid of our pride.

"Go back to your room." He cuts the conversation short, or at least tries to settle the matter quickly, but unfortunately he still can't deter me with his grumpiness, because he hasn't achieved any lasting change in my charming personality with this attitude so far either. For the second time tonight, it seems, the time has come when I must remind him that, although I have been somewhat tamed by the grace shown by his team, my self-esteem and determination are still stronger than his intimidating aura, which he tries to project at me with every cell of his being.

"I always forget how much better you think you are." I reply to him and, tilting my head to the side, I hold the stare of his vivid red eyes, which shine with such unnatural sharpness in the dull light escaping through the opening of the door, as if he weren't from this world, but rather some kind of demon released from hell. And I reluctantly have to admit to myself that instead of fear, a completely different kind of tingling wells up under my skin from his flaming gaze. "But maybe you could let go of your pride now. Unless, by the morning, you want someone else to be blamed for the reduced team besides the mutants." I suggest cynically, highlighting the simple but unpleasantly probable fact with deliberate cruelty, that his stubbornness doesn't protect anyone, especially not the members of the base's tight-knit family. With this whole tug-of-war, he risks snapping the last string of his sanity and slaughtering those whom he tried to protect until now with his own hands.

And it seems that my little comment hits its target, because even though I don't break off our stare-down duel even for a minute, I can see in my periphery how his fingers clench irritatedly around the door, and when the wood creaks under his hand with a low scream, then I take a brave but simple step closer, and he follows my movements with narrowed eyes. Even though I can't see him fully, I can still feel the burning heat of the angry force emanating from him, but that doesn't distract me from my goal. Because although I hide this deeply even from my rational self, it's not just my doubts about my safety that urge me to lend a helping hand. But also that unknown pull that draws my attention to him, as the light of a lamp lures the unsuspecting moth.

"It's amazing how tough you are. But you’re only screwing yourself over. And the others." I note, pressing the last few words significantly, highlighting the fact that not only his pride is at stake here, but also the lives of those he will crush when the blinds come down in front of his brain after he runs out of the energy. "Let me help you." I  plead with him, and the nasty edge that has been residing in my voice softens, trying to make it known that, for once, I only want to support him without any ulterior motives or malice. Which would be my job anyway, but in light of the fact that he saved my life, maybe I even owe him that much.

It seems that I might have succeeded in making him come around, because after a nerve-wracking second of silent hesitation, he steps back and opens the entrance to his room wider in front of me, offering me the way in. And I, without any wait, venture into the realm of his modest home, ignoring the smoldering gaze that follows me unceasingly, the heat of which almost burns my back, as I slowly invade the lonely silence of his quarters. And although I try with every fiber of my being to impose a nonchalant calm on myself, it's impossible to forget how the whole room is filled with the fiery temper that rolls off of him in steady wawes. Therefore, in order to reinforce my confident indifference, I scan through every little corner of the room with my curious eyes. It's only a fraction bigger than my humble abode, yet despite the neat order, it radiates a homeliness that makes me want to question whether the Hunter I know for his unfriendliness and coldness even lives here. And although the furniture is quite simple, I still discover one or two personal relics and some pictures taken with an old camera. In most of them, he is posing with his friends, but there is one photo that stands out from the rest, and even though I can only make out the blurred figures of a few people from this distance, I still capture an older woman, whose face, adorned with a warm smile, almost radiates something quite intimate, which only the close family members can show to each other. And I have to forcefully divert my searching gaze from there, because I know that I'm poking my nose into a corner of the man's life that I have nothing to do with in the slightest. Not even if the curiosity awakened in me eagerly demands to know who the relative he holds in such high esteem could be.

However, I can't survey the surroundings any longer, because I hear the thumping of his heavy boots as he approaches me, after the door closes with a soft click, and as he walks past me and heads towards the bed resting at the end of the room, I follow his path intently. He's still wearing his uniform stained with dark blood, but he's already gotten rid of the tactical gear, and for some reason, without the many supports and straps, the restrained aggression that dominates his body becomes even more noticeable, as he throws himself into the soft comfort of his bed with measured movements. And as soon as he has settled down, he focuses his expectant stare on me, which, despite the fact that his insides are probably torn apart by irritated impatience and pain, is still filled with indifference. And his ability to protect his image and self-respect, even when he certainly feels as good as washed out shit, is worthy of recognition.

And I don't waste my time, but amble closer cautiously so that I can join the man sprawled out on the bed with deceptive relaxation. He follows my every move with keen attention as I crouch down next to him, as if he would suspect that at any moment I will attempt something evil against him after allowing me into the intimate recesses of his quarters. And although the idea of getting into someone's personal space and later using the knowledge gained in this way against them is not completely foreign to me, this is not what drives me now. The dark bedding rustles and crumples under me as I turn towards him and hold out one of my pretty little hands so that we can finally get down to what the ugly little voice in my subconscious brought me here for. His crimson eyes settle on my hand with suspicion, as if it alone could commit unimaginable horrors. Which in itself is a flawless truth, but it's also true for him, and I'm guessing that his hands have seen a lot more violence than mine, and unfortunately, because of that, none of us are innocent enough for this charade.

"I'm going to need skin contact, Riley." I inform him with my tone spiced with a drop of sarcasm, because I doubt that he is not aware that he will have to allow my ugly little hands to touch him in order to recharge him. Even if I can understand how this fact fills him with resentment, unfortunately now he will be forced to let me get close so that I can do my job.

He casts one last unfriendly look at me, then quickly frees himself from one of his gloves, and a strong hand appears from under the textile decorated with a skeleton pattern, with dark veins stretching under the unnaturally pale skin, through which the traces of the many scars left from the past run with faint lines, only silently testifying to the excitements in which he undoubtedly took a part in. He reluctantly offers me his hand, and my fingers firmly wrap around his large palm almost immediately, and I'm surprised for a moment by the burning heat emanating from it, which slowly creeps along my skin following his touch. And this small interaction is enough for me to gauge how close he has strayed to his limits even without the help of my ability, and it gives me enough motivation to close my eyes and begin the regeneration, before I can dwell on how surprisingly pleasant his long fingers tightening around mine feel.

When my energy carefully stretches out towards him, I get lightheaded for a minute from the demanding, aggressive pull, with which the power raging in the man clings to me almost instantly, like a starving wild animal that has finally found a tasty morsel. And I have to concentrate more than I would normally to not give in to this violent pull, because an SSS-class big boy is able to suck all the energy out of me in a careless moment, before I even have a chance to recover from the attack. The complicated system of blood vessels running through the Hunter's body is revealed in my mind's eye, and only a few areas peppered with dark spots show that he didn't get through the night without minor injuries and bruises. Although he is undoubtedly a human killing machine in terms of his abilities, today's events caught him by surprise, and I can guess that he got these passing bruises when he was trying to protect his men from the monsters that was attacking them. And with that, the mission filled with pointless death appears in mind for the hundredth time since our arrival, which I don't think I'll be able to get past any time soon. It would be foolish to forget this whole parade, because it delighted me with new experiences, the fruits of which we will soon reap if we don't get more information. But the little conversation I had with Riley before rescuing our Scottish friend comes to my mind, perhaps with even more enthusiasm. Although he now sits next to me with an almost eerie immobility, and lets my cunning little gift soften the furious flames of the power that simmers in him in slow waves, I can't get over the fact that he hasn't yet punished me for my disobedience. I don't feel any particular desire to remind him of my reckless opposition, but I'm still curious to see how he will retaliate for my little rebellion.

I break out of my concentration for a moment, and I raise my searching gaze to his face again, only to meet his closed eyes emerging from under the mask. And I take advantage of this stolen moment to observe his features as closely as I haven't had the chance to before. In the yellow light of the lamp on the bedside table, his eyelashes look golden, and they cast shadows on the skin covered with blurred dark paint as they flutter when the cooling waves of my energy wash through his body. The sharp line of his nose can be seen under the black fabric, and as I peer down and recognize the shape of his lips parting in relief, I feel the burning tremble that has appeared with disturbing frequency around him lately. But I can't tear myself away from him, because my eyes slide on his chin, then on his textile-covered neck, and when his Adam's apple moves, when he swallows after a barely audible sigh, my mouth dries up with maddening speed. I feel like it's time to finally occupy my mind which drifted on a dangerous path, before the warmth in the pit of my stomach has time to get cheeky. Because I don't understand at all what is happening to me, and it annoys me more than anything that I feel the control of my brain slipping out of my hands.

"You won’t punish me?" The question that occupies my mind breaks out of me, because although I'm not afraid that he will snap my neck because of this, I can rightly assume that he will honor my little indulgence with some kind of retribution. Of course, this may seem like an almost masochistic move on my part, but it's still a safer and more predictable area than the series of thoughts buzzing in my head caused by just observing his face hidden under the mask.

His eyelids open slowly, as if I had just disturbed him from his peaceful slumber, and when his usual brown eyes are focused on me again, the lazy sparks dancing in them almost take my breath away. It seems as if heavy weights have been lifted from him, and as the tension ready to jump disappears from his muscles, and his body relaxes, his aura becomes quite human. As if sitting next to me wasn't the fearless, grim, and always terrifying Hunter, but the man who calls MacTavish Johnny, who sometimes disappears into Price's office and reappears with the scent of whiskey and tobacco smoke trailing after him, and who responds with a low snort to one of Garrick's lame jokes. He almost becomes a different person, and this makes me wonder why he allows me, exactly ME, to see this side of him. I doubt he is aware of how carefully I have observed him so far, but he certainly knows the dubious messages he is sending with this. It might make me believe that he doesn't hate me nearly as much as I had assumed.

"Theres no need to." He states finally, and his voice now rings with a much healthier depth, indicating that my little trick is slowly starting to reach its goal and pull him back from the edge of the abyss, where he voluntarily danced close to. But this answer is far from enough for me, because again it's just a short sentence that scratches the surface of the problem. I know that he is comfortable with settling the matter with that much, but it never was my strong suit to settle for speculation, so I decide to keep pushing.

"I thought disobeying orders was a serious offense." I vocalize this tiny detail, raising one of my arched eyebrows, conveying perfect disinterest with my whole being. Although I appreciate that, contrary to my previous experiences, he is not coming up with some vile and mean comment to let me know his dislike, but now I'm curious about more than just his curtness. Mainly because my disobedience has annoyed him terribly so far, and I doubt that this current transgression of mine would leave him unfazed, which could have ended much uglier if he hadn't decided to show up.

"It is." Comes another rather informative answer, and when I'm about to open my mouth to tell him how talkative he's become in the wee hours of the morning, his fingers tighten around my hand, almost warning me that he hasn't finished yet. "I thought about leaving you there." He says dispassionately, and with this tiny little sentence, he lets me know exactly what I was already aware of. And when I left the overpass, I departed with this knowledge, because I never even considered that he would come after me. But nevertheless, he stepped in when he was most needed.

"Yet you came after us." I emphasize the obvious, because in the end, despite the fact that I managed to save the Hunter with the mohawk from an early and brutal death with my suicidal action, he had to intervene so that I wouldn't end up dying together with his Scottish friend. And I'm not so naive as to believe that it was his concern for me that led him to the dead-end alley. "MacTavish is lucky to have such a loyal partner. I might even envy him." I note, and I curve the beginnings of a mean little smile on my lips, because that way it might be easier to silence the evil little voices that arise in me, which whisper that Riley would have left me to my fate with the greatest peace of mind, if MacTavish's life had not depended on his appearance. There is such a close bond between the two Hunters, the origin of which I don't know, but I'm aware that they would put their hands in the fire for each other, which is why it's perhaps understandable why he can let go of my punishment so easily. Because I suspect that if he hadn't been almost neck-deep in the remains of the mutants, he would have intervened at the start of the chaos at the beginning of the combat zone.

But before I could delve deeper into the mass of dark little thoughts born in my own brain, mocking me for having the faint and silly idea even for a minute, that maybe he didn't just come to the party of my private rescue mission for his friend's sake, the man's body moves towards me in a rather surprising manner, and I freeze instantly. Every part of me is prepared for the counterattack by the instinctive reflex of defense, and my nervous system is almost automatically attuned to forming a blood clot in the snaking vascular network of one of Riley's vital organs instead of friendly regeneration if the need arises. However, when the brutal attack I expect doesn't arrive even after a few nerve-wracking seconds, I shift my confused eyes to his face. It's only a few centimeters with which he brings his broad shoulders closer as he leans down to me, but even this tiny movement is enough to make me unsteady and focus on the Hunter's body language with every nerve. And when I don't find anything in his mannerisms that would indicate that he wants to kill me, I only stare with growing puzzlement into the pair of brown eyes in which golden sparks swim from the lamplight.

"I didn't go there just because of Soap." He declares, and there is such a significant weight in his voice that I feel that my heart, which is hammering in confusion, skips a beat. Because with this simple expression, he drives away all the clouds of gloomy theories fighting in my head, so that nothing else remains after it, but honest surprise, which I'm unable to stop before it also appears on my face. And I must give a comical sight as I stare at him with slightly parted lips and eyes wide with astonishment, but despite this, he doesn't let my gaze wander and maintains eye contact with unbroken determination, as if he hadn't just made the most benign comment that he has ever said to me. If it weren't for the pull of the smoldering power inside of him, interlocking with my energy, I would quite simply think of this whole absurd scenario as a dream image created by my brain. But it's real, just like the bitter smell of blood and gunpowder emanating from the man and the fiery touch of his skin under my palm.

It takes me a few seconds to snap out of my shock-induced stiffness, and when my gray matter manages to grasp what Riley just said to me, I straighten up in my seat with an amused sigh. For this one confession amounts to a peace treaty, which he nobly offers me, no doubt as a reward for saving his Scottish friend. But I don't care why he had the motivation to tell me this, it doesn't take away from its importance.

"Just be careful, Riley." I utter with a mock warning in my voice, as I regain my confidence and lean forward a hair's breadth, boldly reaching closer to him. And as interest flashes in his eyes, a cheeky smile appears on my lips. "You might end up liking me." I cock my head to de side with sassiness, and when neither anger nor contempt follows my little comment, I know that maybe he wouldn't mind so much if that happened.

And although silence reigns in the room again, and only our shadows dancing on the wall in the warm light break the immobility, this peace doesn't weigh on me suffocatingly. I turn my attention back to the visible network of blood vessels beneath my closed eyelids, letting the waves of the now-calmed power of the Hunter lick at every fiber of my body. For the first time, I feel that neither of us is in a hurry to get rid of the other's company, which lays the hundreds of thoughts in my head to rest. And for a little while, the sounds of exhaustion that are slowly growing inside me are silenced, allowing me to enjoy this idyllic moment.

⃰

My body shakes with another wild wave, as the torturous claw of hunger digs into my stomach again, pulling my insides with such force as if an elephant was trying to press down on my chest. I angrily kick off the blanket that is clinging to my skin drenched in cold sweat, because every square centimeter of the textile that touches me pricks me with the sharpness of a thousand needles. As if I were in a torture chamber where everything wants to make me suffer, instead of lying in the comfort of my soft bed. The air flows into my lungs with moist heat, and with each breath, I get more and more dizzy, because I feel my trachea sticking together from the sticky, disgusting dampness that settles in the silence between the walls of the room.

Of course, my brain, hovering on the edge of unconsciousness, knows that everything is exactly as normal as it was before this hell started, when I returned to my room and after a nice shower, I threw myself on my bed and fell asleep. Because maybe I managed to sleep for a few hours, when with the first rays of the sun, that well-known pain woke up in me, which didn't mean anything good at all. Although it's not surprising that the unrelenting feeling of hunger appeared in me, because I actively worked for my energy to be drained sufficiently. MacTavish's healing and regeneration, Riley's recharging, and the recovery of the other little soldiers meant just enough stress for my little ability, which even though I started the mission with a full stomach, my body couldn't tolerate. And now I get to enjoy the aftermath of this, since Laswell isn't here to give me the only thing that could help this damn situation. The woman is now digging and researching for information somewhere within the walls of the colony, and she will most certainly not come back because I whine because of my rumbling stomach. And since only the all-knowing boss of the base knows the code to that fucking door that stands between me and my snack, I'm forced to wait here writhing until she gets back.

My canines sting with a sharp pain as I think, that I actually have dozens of opportunities to alleviate this suffering, but even my dulled mind is aware that I shouldn't betray the team's trust in me. And even in my current state, I find it quite ridiculous that my instincts can be crushed by the image of the Hunters, because before I arrived here I would have quenched my thirst behind a club with the help of an unsuspecting idiot a long time ago. There would be plenty of such silly little fools here, and all I would have to do would be to lure one of them into a dark corner, stun them, and that's it. They wouldn't even feel it. They wouldn't even know about it. No trace would be left.

And as another torturous spasm twists my insides, I hiss weakly and grip the skin of my stomach, because it feels as if an iron fist would try to tear my intestines apart. My nails tear at the skin of my belly with desperate force, as if that would ease the torture. Although the aching caused by my own abuse doesn't reach my senses, the sweet smell of the blood coming out after my fresh wounds is even more so. Its seductive aroma snakes into my nose, and I impatiently raise my hand to my mouth to clean the crimson liquid off with my tongue. But that doesn't help one bit, and the couple of small bites I stole from myself only push the claws of hunger that stab into me like knives even deeper.

Time crawls forward on leaden feet, and I might even lose consciousness for a while, because by the time I regain awareness, and the fever has subsided from my brain enough to be able to perceive the outside world again, then I become aware that the darkness of the night has engulfed my small room. And it occurs to me that if no one has tried to find me until now, then the woman probably hasn't magically appeared since then either. But the impatient hunger is now demandingly straining inside me, and keeps shouting in my head to go and find something that will finally make this pain go away. And nothing seems like a better idea to my confused mind, which eagerly urges me to move and look for food.

With hasty movements, I peel myself from the tangled fabrics of my sheets and rush to the door with my newfound momentum to tear open the entrance to my room. And as soon as I step out to the hallway, I shiver from the cool breeze that caresses my feverish skin that emerges from under my t-shirt and shorts. I set off almost automatically through the deserted corridors of the base, as if an invisible leash was guiding me towards my goal, promising that at the end of my journey, I would find something that would finally be able to free me from the pain piercing through all my limbs. And for a fleeting moment, it crosses my mind how eerily empty the entire base is, but I can't do anything with this information. Maybe it's better this way, because even my twisted brain understands that if I saw an unsuspecting victim, I wouldn't be able to control myself. I would throw myself on them, sink my teeth into them, and drink from them until the last memory of the hunger tearing at my stomach vanished.

Those few minutes seem like millennia until I finally find my final destination, wandering through the maze of uninhabited corridors, and when the door of the infirmary finally appears in front of my eyes, an almost aggressive temper takes over me. Food is within arm's reach, and nothing can stop the angry voices raging in my skull. This vehement impulse takes me to the threshold of the medical room, and I have no capacity to understand why the door is open, when I almost tear it from its socket and open it, and it obeys my aggressive attack with a loud creak. Without thinking, I enter the noiseless, empty space of the room, and in an instant, my nose senses the faint remains of the scent of blood even through the smell of the disinfectants. And I feel like a wild animal looking for its prey as I catch sight of the beds resting against the walls, ready to pounce on them as soon as I find the source of the delicacy. My clever little nose leads me all the way through the dark room to an abandoned, neatly prepared bed, and I reach for the white bedclothes with impatient haste to pull them from their peaceful position. Although only the dull light of the buttons of the many machines shines in the blackness of the night, it's not a problem for my eyes to discover the few small, brown spots that rest on the mattress laughing at me. If I had an ounce of self-respect left in me right now, I'd find it pathetic that I messed up a fucking hospital bed just because I sensed that the unfortunate injured soldier had left behind a little crumb of that delicacy for which every nerve in me screams with ever-increasing despair. But now I have no self-respect left, only hunger.

The disappointment that settles into my consciousness stops me for a fleeting second, and when I realize that it wasn't my dinner that greeted me under the sheet, then a thick, red fog descends on my brain. Every part of me fills with the heat of this smoldering passion, and it moves my body almost automatically to action, which carries me all the way to the fucking password-protected door. As soon as that damned thick metallic thing appears in front of me, I don't even try the panel, because I know that my fingers wouldn't be capable of the fine motor movements required to press the buttons. On the other hand, the fury in me warns me that there is another way to get in, I just have to try hard enough. And with the keen senses of a hunted beast, I look around the infirmary, so that when my eyes stop on the chair resting next to the doctor's table, I can cross the distance between me and my improvised weapon without hesitation. The heavy piece of furniture seems as light as a feather as I pick it up, and I know that the strength I have when I storm back to the door with the chair is due to the blessed effect of the stress hormones working in my muscles. Without any delay, I raise the seat up, and as I slam it down, the plastic squeaks between my hands. I strike again and again, and with each blow, I only get angrier, and the infirmary's quiet peace is filled with a series of furious snaps and cracks. I feel my mouth contort into a snarl as I methodically destroy the furniture, and the irritation bubbling up inside me doesn't let up until my weapon is shattered into pieces, and I'm left with nothing but the mutilated legs of the chair in my painfully clenched grip.

It takes me a few seconds to realize that I can't continue my assault against the door any longer, and then carelessly tossing aside the shattered pieces of the furniture, I move closer to see if I managed to damage the goddamn metal. But it still looks back at me unscathed, laughing at the miserable and pitiful way I tried to break through it, and I know I never had and never will have the chance to tear down. Only one or two faint scratches are visible on it, and nothing else shows how indignant I attacked it. And that gives me enough motivation to charge at this damned garbage with my bare hands. My fist collides with the door with a dull thud, and not a single spark of the pain radiating from my hand reaches my brain, I just beat the entrance to the storage room with increasing distress, becoming more and more anguished with each passing minute at the sight of my failure. And when the suffering rips into me again, and another agonizing wave of hunger grips my stomach, I fall to the ground along the cold steel with a tortured whimper. My attempted break-in resulted in nothing other than the rapid deterioration of my already poor condition. My pulse is pounding in my ears, and with each heartbeat, the violent grasp that holds my insides in an iron fist becomes more and more suffocating. Fuck….

Suddenly, the rhythmic noise of my panting is interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps, and I break out of my paralyzed self-pity to turn my head towards the gaping entrance of the infirmary in a daze. Although my brain is still not on top of the situation and is slowed down by the dull confusion left behind by the disappearing poisonous fog, I would recognize the outline of the tall figure I see stopping at the doorstep out of a thousand. Riley stands there in the embrace of the darkness behind him, like a spirit freed from the underworld, and as I weakly lift my eyes to him, I can only focus on the skull that glows with eerie vivacity, and I remember that maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he snapped my neck.

[reiynm]

Hello! I have been on a yandere kick for the last month, & finally got around to your game. Love it by the way! Minor spoilers ahead for anyone who hasn't done all the paths.

I am a big fan of yanderes who refuse to hurt their LI (I will live and die for yans such as Ren/Red from 14 Days with You, or Harper from Camp Willowpeak) but I also like the yanderes who don't WANT to hurt you, but will under the right circumstances. Gives a little bit more tension for the player to choose their actions more carefully.

I have a couple of SFW & NSFW questions, feel free to answer whatever ones you feel like, I will put all the NSFWs at the end so you can just skip over them if you don't feel like answering. Regardless of if you answer any of them at all, I hope you have a wonderful day, & I am excited to see what you come up with in the future!

SFW questions

1- Under the assumption that you get him to move back to the city with you, how would Logan react if MC passively started calling him "my husband" to people?

2- Would Logan ever start loosening up a bit around MC, if they start warming up to him? Like would he be more likely to crack jokes, or use playful/flirty tones with MC, ect? (without MC asking him to)

3- Logan doesn't strike me as a gamer, but if MC was interested in video games, would he give them a shot so he could play with MC, or would he rather just watch as MC plays?

NSFW questions

4- If MC decided to walk around the cabin/apartment naked, how would Logan react? How badly would that throw him off, would he not know what to do?

5- If an AFAB MC expressed wanting to be intimate with him, but didn't want kids & was afraid of getting pregnant, would he simple get contraceptives? Or would he go out of his way to get a vasectomy?

Hello! I'm glad you enjoyed my game 😊

Same!!🤝 Yanderes who are deeply devoted but refuse to harm their love interests have a special place in my heart too (and OMG Ren💕)

1. Logan would likely be quite taken aback at first, especially if he hadn’t seen it coming. The surprise might leave him momentarily speechless. Even if he doesn't show it right away, he’d be deeply moved that the MC sees him in such a meaningful and committed way.

2. Yes, although it may take some time. Nothing is impossible with a little patience x)

3. Video games don’t interest him, but if it makes the MC happy, he’ll give it a try. (Not sure he’ll enjoy it tho) He would be more of an observer than a player.

4. That’s a good question! xD He’s definitely going to lose some of his cool (that’s for sure xD). And even if the situation could quickly become…… yk ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), he would perceive it much more as a wholesome moment than a Hot one. For him, if you’re comfortable enough to show yourself that way in front of him, he’ll see it as a sign of trust and acceptance.

5. He’ll do whatever the MC prefers. (He also doesn’t wish to have children, so it’s not a problem for him.) He fully agrees with the use of contraceptives and is even open to the possibility of getting a vasectomy if that aligns with MC’s preferences.

PS: I'm not sure when there will be new updates. As you can see, I'm not the fastest creator around (even when it comes to replies ^^").

Anyway, have a wonderful day and thank you for the ask :D

[maelstroms-blog]

For @tringstarruuu Dream's Moving Castle AU

Thank you again for @tringstarruuu for giving me permission to write more parts. Check out their blog for more.

Later that evening, back in the hat shop, his encounter with the wizard Dream was starting to feel like, well, a dream. Hob sighed, sweeping up non-existent dirt. Since returning to the solitude of his shop, he felt restless, like there was an itch deep in his bones. The once comforting silence now felt ominous. It didn't help that Joanna's words echoed in his mind. "Honestly, Hob," she began, "I can't believe you," Hob looked up from his tea, "What?" Joanne just scoffed, "You've been holed up in that shop for days, and the first time I see you, you're floating down on the balcony," Joanna only witnessed the last part, she never saw the wizard Dream. 'I keep telling you, Jo, it was Dream," "Even if it was, you got away lucky, don't you know the rumours, the wizard Dream devours people's hopes," Hob sighed, "Those are just rumours, and besides," he offered a wry smile, "He wouldn't want me." Joanna's face fell, "Oh, Hob," she reached out for his hand, "Don't say that," Hob shook his head, "My hope died with El," Joanna's face twisted into a frown, "Do you think she'd be happy hearing you say that?" Anger burned weakly in his chest. Before, Hob would've shot back, he would have jammed a finger in Joanna's face and ask her what the hell she would know what Eleanor thought. He didn't do any of that. The anger died as quick as it came. He just bowed his head, blaming his wet eyes on the steam of his tea. He felt Joanna pat his hand, she knew him too well.

A bell rang, breaking him out of his reverie. He spun, his pony tail whipping his face. Standing on the inside of his shop was a woman, clad in a deep purple cloak. Impossibly tall, she had to stoop to pass through the door. The brim of her wide hat hid her face in shadow, but the candle light caught her wire rimmed glasses, lighting them up. "Oh, hello," Hob greeted politely, "Sorry but we're closed." Strange, he thought to himself, he was certain he locked that door. The tall woman didn't answer, she stepped forward, gliding, towards the nearest hat. She picked it up between her long taloned finger and thumb, like it was something disgusting, "Such a tacky little place," she finally said, her voice held a regal tone, tainted by her sneer. "You charge this much for this trash?" The woman turned, Hob caught a flash of a bottle green eye, glaring at him, "You ought to be ashamed." Her words stuck under Hobs skin like thorns, he felt himself bristling. He cleared his throat, "I'm sorry, but you're going to have to leave," trying and failing to keep his voice steady. The tall woman threw back her head, and barked out a laugh. "Oh, look, the little mouse speaks," she bent forward, invading Hob's space from where she stood, and flicked his ponytail, "You should show some respect to Thessaly of the Waste," she warned. A spike of fear shot through Hob at the name. Thessaly of the Waste! In his shop! Why?! "What do you want?" Hob asked, moving out of her reach, Thessaly of the Waste straightened up, the top of her head grazing his roof, "I heard you touched my property today," Hob blinked, "So, I'm here to teach you a lesson." With a snap of her fingers, the shop door was flung open, and a familiar shadow charged inside. Hob barely had time to flinch before it enveloped him. He gasped, breathing something dank and musty into his lungs, then a powerful itch exploded on his skin. Distantly, he heard the witch's voice, "Maybe now, you'll find some wisdom," she cackled, "No one will give you any attention like this anyway." And with that, she was gone, taking her shadow along with her. Hob still cowered, keeping his face covered until he was sure she was gone. After what seemed like an age, he straightened up, his back protesting at the movement. He took several deep breaths, feeling strange. He licked his dry lips, glancing down at his shaking hands. Those weren't his hands he realised with a jolt. Wrinkled, puckered skin stared back at him, the hands of a withered old man.

Hob gasped, "What?" But the croak of his voice made him stop. Hobbling to the shop window, he looked at his reflection. A stranger stared back. His face swam with wrinkles, a deep frown etched into his face, reduced height from his hunched back, and his hair, once the colour of dark chocolate, now shined dully like cigarette smoke. Hob hyperventilated, grabbing the folds on his wrinkled face. This was a dream, it had to be. No, his back hurt too much. This was real. That witch had cursed him! With old age! Calm down, he told himself. He couldn't panic. He breathed in, and out, ignoring the new rattle in his chest. As a plan formed in his mind, he remembered what Eleanor once said: things always looked brighter in the morning. That settled it, he was going to bed.

Thank you again to @tringstarruuu Check out their Dreamling Howl's Moving Castle piece

Maybe there'll be a part 3?....

[saspitite]

The Hint

On February 6th, 2024, a thread on KauKoBoard made by user HedoniSt0rm had been suddenly updated after going silent for nearly five years.

[24/02/06 19:13] HedoniSt0rm: Hello everyone. Sorry it's been a bit, I got busy with life and had to distance myself from online matters. I hope I didn't worry anyone, though- I know there's only like, 80 people here? So it's pretty easy to remember most everyone and notice when somebody leaves. Either way, I'm back, and with something I think you guys might like. [24/02/06 19:22] Milli_Best_Pilli: TORILLE PERKELE!! welcome back man, we missed you so much! :D you doing alright? [24/02/06 19:24] HedoniSt0rm: Doing just fine, thanks! :]. [24/02/06 19:25] notawolf: what did i miss??? hedoni's back???? talk about the second coming of christ lol [24/02/06 19:25] notawolf: in all seriousness i'm happy you're back dude. what's the thing you wanted to show us? [24/02/06 19:26] HedoniSt0rm: Glad you asked. Hope everyone still has their detective bones in them like the good ol' days, because this was an interesting encounter. Remember what I said before I left? It was the last update I made in this thread. [24/02/06 19:27] notawolf: no fucking way. [24/02/06 19:27] Milli_Best_Pilli: ...do i need to grab some popcorn [24/02/06 19:27] HedoniSt0rm: Yep. I talked to the Kauhukorppi. [24/02/06 19:28] notawolf: DUDE [24/02/06 19:28] HedoniSt0rm: Sit tight, I still have to upload all the photos to my computer- then I'll explain. [24/02/06 20:14] HedoniSt0rm: Alright, everything's done uploading and nothing got corrupted (too much). So, I had gone to a Hevisaurus concert earlier and remembered my hypothesis of potentially communicating with the Kauhukorppi. It felt a bit strange in practice, continuously taking photos while the band wasn't even playing, but I'm sure nobody noticed me amongst all the excited kids. My plan was to keep taking photos periodically until I "caught" him, and then find ways to communicate from there. Yes, it sounds extremely unplanned, but it turns out I didn't really need much of a plan at all. It turns out that the Kauhukorppi can read minds, too. Below is the first photo I had taken which captured the Kauhukorppi. What was interesting was the "..." clearly visible above his head, along with the fact that he wasn't staring into the camera like he usually does. He was definitely aware of me- but specifically aware of the fact that I was trying to get his attention...

[24/02/06 20:16] HedoniSt0rm: My suspicions that the "..." held significance ended up proving true with my second photo. He was now communicating with me directly, stating that he could "hear me"- my thoughts.

[24/02/06 20:18] HedoniSt0rm: I then asked the Kauhukorppi if I could speak with him. He stated that he would be delighted to. I'm unsure what the "just don't blink" statement specifically meant, but it was possibly referring to the photos I'd be capturing from then on.

[24/02/06 20:21] HedoniSt0rm: I began by notifying him of his presence in the real world, and how he had garnered a community online. I was surprised by his answer- he was aware of it, and even went on to say it was his "purpose" to be known.

[24/02/06 20:24] HedoniSt0rm: Upon asking for more clarification, it seems the Kauhukorppi became a bit agitated, mentioning some kind of nebulous "them".

[24/02/06 20:25] HedoniSt0rm: I took a wild guess and asked if he was referring to the Sony vs Hevisaurus incident. What I got in response was, bizarrely, silence. He had looked away again.

[24/02/06 20:28] HedoniSt0rm: I took another photo and he finally answered. It seems I surprised him.

[24/02/06 20:30] HedoniSt0rm: And then, he made a shocking offering to me. There seems to be much more we don't know about the Kauhukorppi.

[24/02/06 20:33] HedoniSt0rm: And as I asked just how much there was to uncover, the distortion of the photos began to strangely lessen, and he said this:

[24/02/06 20:35] HedoniSt0rm:

[24/02/06 20:37] HedoniSt0rm: This last photo unfortunately still has issues with excess corruption. I am not sure how to decipher the meaning left in this one, as it's too broken on my end to understand. Help would be appreciated. Thank you. I will be signing off, now. -Hedoni