#also as for the personal stuff first i just must stay that while i wish they didn't make chikage hates all women bc of his mom

[strawb3rrystar]

Hazbin Hotel characters longing for you.

Pairing: Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Alastor, Lucifer Morningstar, Adam, Vox, Valentino, Velvette x GN! Reader

Warnings: Implied breakup, Stalking, Just all around angst

Word count: 600

✰Masterlist

Charlie will hangout with her friends to get your mind off you. This strategy works for a little while, until she starts to notice small bits of your personality in them. All the little things pile up and it brings down her mood, causing her stay away from her friends as to not get reminded.

"Sorry guys, can't hangout today, not feeling the greatest."

Vaggie will bottle up all her emotions and avoid everyone. But, being all alone causes her to start thinking about you more. All the happy memories you created together. Laughs and smiles shared. Vulnerable venting sessions that ended in cuddles. She won't be able to scrape you from her mind and end up crying angry tears.

"Why... after everything we've been through! Why.. why did you leave me..?"

Angel Dust will probably be too distracted with work to think about you. But of course he misses you and wishes to have you back. If he ever does get time to just sit and think about you, his insecurities will get the best of him and he'll think your better off without him.

"Maybe.. they're better off. More happier without me.."

Husk will drown himself in alcohol like he always does. Silently doing his job. It wasn't much of a change to most of the others. Sometimes, out of the corner of his eye, he'll see your figure. He shivers every time he realizes you're not actually there.

"Must be the alcohol makin' me see shit..."

Sir Pentious will lay awake at night thinking about you. It doesn't help that his eggs will keep bringing stuff up about you. He doesn't want to think about you, but he just can't get you out of his head. He wishes to see you one last time before he lets you go.

"I haven't asked for much. Please, just let me see them again."

Alastor will convince himself that he was perfectly able to go on with his afterlife before he met you, so he can definitely do it after you left. Although, that's a lie, because he misses your presence everyday. Even if he doesn't want to admit it, he goes over your daily schedule before you left in his head and goes to the places you used to frequent.

"I am perfectly capable all on my own."

Lucifer will dream about you every night after you leave. He'll dream about all the good times you had together. Your smile and your laugh. His dreams are so realistic that when he wakes up it takes him a minute to remember you left.

"Right.. they left.. but, my dream was so.. real.."

Adam will kinda stalk you, justifying it as protection. Whenever he sees you hanging out with another angel, though, envy will fill his veins. Even if he knows it's one of your friends, he'll still get jealous.

"You were supposed to hangout with me, not this fucking nobody."

Vox will also very much stalk you with his cameras. Nervously searching his screens whenever you leave your house. He just wants to know where you are, and that you're safe.

"My sweet would never have to worry about their safety again."

Valentino will check your past messages 50 times a day. He's just itching to text you, but if he does you might block him, and then he'll lose your conversations forever. He might throw his phone in frustration.

"God fucking damn it!"

Velvette will regularly check your social media for any updates from you. If you do post something new, expect her to be one of the first to like it.

"@Velvvette liked your post."

Star's notes -> I've binged Hazbin Hotel like 3 times now OMG

(Requests are open!)

Taglist -> Join the taglist

[reds-skull]

Dual Loop

[AO3]

(Note: TW for suicidal idation, mild gore, self harm, depression. That being said, there's no MCD, and it has a happy ending. This one is a little heavier than my usual stuff, stay safe <3)

So... I expected this to be like... 5-6k words. It ended up being over double that. Enjoy!

Also, I decided to have a sort of mini post-script in comments in AO3, so you're welcome to check it if you're interested!

The 141’s common room might be Soap’s favorite. It’s nothing fancy, a couple of ratty couches shoved into one corner, and a kitchenette in the other. It doesn’t have a TV like the other common room, and they have to constantly clean off mold from beneath the sink.

Soap wouldn’t have it any other way, as it has something no other room on base has - his taskforce. Despite not having much to do, just lying beside Gaz and shit talking the rookies with the Captain is pleasant, Ghost moving about in the kitchen.

He watches the giant man turn around and reveal a steaming mug of (probably) tea, and decides to call him over, “oi, LT! Come over ‘ere, I’m sure ye got some horror stories from your recruits.”

Ghost’s dark eyes drag over him for a few tense seconds, before he responds, “got paperwork to finish, MacTavish.” he nods toward the others, “Garrick, Captain.” and leaves.

His displeasure must’ve shown on his face, because Gaz reaches over to pat his head, “awwh, maybe you’ll convince him next time Soapy”.

“Awa’ wi’ ya, yer messin’ mah hair!” he bats his hands away, pouting at Price’s laughter.

The Captain’s moustache twitches with a hidden grin, “Simon values his alone time, Soap. It’s nothing personal.”

“I know, I know. Wish he could stay around at least one night, though…” he frowns.

“He will in his own time.” Price groans as he gets up from the couch, “right lads, rather not stay out of bed after eleven. Don’t go to sleep too late.”

Soap and Gaz both answer “okay dad!” in unison, cackling when Price flips them off as he exits the common room.

They fuck around for a little longer before calling it a night as well and separating ways to their barracks. He spends a while tossing and turning in bed, mind too restless for him to fall asleep.

Maybe there’s one thing he’d like to change about the common room, and perhaps in the 141 in general. And it all starts and ends with the masked bastard they call Ghost.

What they have right now is fine, relatively close work relationship, joking around on lookout duties, trusting each other with their sixes. It’s good.

Soap huffs and finally settles down under his scratchy blanket. He battles with opposing emotions, daydreams of him and Ghost being close, closer than a Sergeant and a Lieutenant have to be, and anger at his own ridiculous thoughts.

He falls asleep to memories of brown eyes staring at his.

Soap wakes up to a knock on his door. He quickly blinks away the remaining drowsiness in his mind, and reaches for the handle.

Out of all the people he expected to find, Ghost was definitely not one of them, “morning, Johnny.”

Johnny? Soap tilts his head, “LT, did something happen?” they must have gotten some time sensitive intel about their latest target, if Ghost himself has to come and get him first thing in the morning. Last he heard, they were operating within the UK…

Ghost’s eyes crease in a way he’s never seen, and for a moment Soap wonders if he’s still dreaming, “no, was about to go to mess. Know you were gonna go there soon.”

“Oh” he says intelligently.

Ghost lets out a half-laugh,  “you coming?”

His brain finally wakes enough to process his invitation, “oh! Uh, aye, just gonna change…” he motions awkwardly to his rumpled clothes.

“I can wait.” Ghost leans back against the wall, and Soap slowly closes the door. He stares at it for a second before walking to his closet, pulling out a shirt and a new pair of pants. His mind wanders as he automatically goes about getting dressed.

He never sees Ghost before noon, and that’s if he’s lucky. The masked man doesn’t eat with them in mess, wakes up before the sun rises, and begins working before most soldiers have blinked away the last of their sleep. It’s… certainly a first.

Then again, you shouldn’t really look a gift horse in the mouth. He adjusts his fatigues and exits his room. Ghost is still leaning against the wall, motionless as a very foreboding statue.

He wordlessly motions Soap to start walking, and they make their way to mess. They should bring Gaz and Price along, really take advantage of Ghost’s practically unheard of great mood. Gaz’s room is just a few doors from his, he could knock as they pass-

Ghost places a hand on his shoulder and stops him. Soap opens his mouth to question him, but not a second later, Gaz’s door opens, almost hitting him square in the face, and Kyle busts out.

“Oh shit- sorry Soap, didn’t see you there.” Gaz straightens his baseball cap, and clocks in Ghost’s presence, “Lieutenant, sir! Didn’t see you either.”

Soap tenses. Well, there goes that once in a lifetime opportunity to see Ghost actually socialize with the team-

“All good, Garrick. In a rush to get the chocolate pudding?” Ghost asks calmly. What the fuck?

“Yeah, Smith texted me.” Gaz grabs his arm, dislodging Ghost’s, “c’mon, we have to get there before they run out!”

He lets Kyle drag him, throwing a cautious look back at Ghost, relieved to see he’s still following. As much as he wants to reach mess fast, no pudding in the world is worth leaving Ghost behind.

Mess, expectedly, is chock-full of hungry soldiers, and the table serving the pudding is barely visible between the bodies.

Soap almost instantly loses all hope of reaching the table in time, but Ghost once again surprises him by diving head first into the crowd. His reputation and imposing appearance clearly aids him in making his way to the table, and Gaz sends him an incredulous look.

“Am I seeing things, or is the Lieutenant carrying two cups of pudding for us?” Gaz grins.

Soap can’t help but join him, “aye, don’t know what’s gotten into him today, but Ghost is certainly in a special mood.”

“Hearing Simon’s in a ‘special’ mood doesn’t calm me in the slightest.” the Captain’s voice appears behind them.

“Come and see for yourself, Cap. It’s a bloody miracle!” Gaz subtly points to Ghost, who at last reached them with the prized puddings. 

He hands each Sergeant a cup, and greets the Captain, “I know you don’t like this sweet shite, Price. Maybe they’ll have sausages tomorrow.”

Price blinks a couple of times, “right… well, let’s get to our table. You two better eat some actual food before you start shoveling that garbage into your mouths.”

They sit down, Gaz taking his right, and Ghost his left. He takes a moment to marvel at the simple act of Ghost existing in a nonwork related situation, a calmness in his movements that Soap didn’t know he needed to see. He has to temp down a goofy smile at the sight.

It really shouldn’t shock him anymore, but Soap senses all three pairs of eyes in the table snap to Ghost, who rolled up his mask above his mouth like he doesn’t care if anyone else sees, and started eating.

“It’s… nice to see you here with us, Ghost.” Price says slowly.

“Wouldn’t want to miss this five-star meal.” Ghost points his fork to the grey sludge on his tray. He decides to go along with whatever Ghost’s odd behaviour throws at him.

He elbows him gently, “hey, LT” the giant man hums, “why did the skeleton need to go to the barbecue?”

Soap waits for a beat before continuing, “because he wanted to get a spare rib”

Gaz groans to his right, absolutely done with his awful sense of humor, but Ghost…

Ghost smiles. It crinkles the scars bisecting his lips in an unexpectedly endearing way, and his dark eyes crease into little half moons, and his stomach drops because fuck, he’d do anything to see that smile again.

Those brown eyes linger on his, and Soap knows he should look away, that his infatuation could be dangerously visible on his face, but he can’t.

Price saves him after all, “Kyle, you got recruits in 20, make sure they don’t pass out in this heat.”

Gaz just groans louder.

“I’ll go with ‘im.” Ghost pushes away from the table, Kyle jumping from his sit, “you will?! I mean, uh, the more the merrier, I guess.” and rushes after him.

Price’s eyes meet his, and Soap gives him a hesitant smile, “told ye he was in a special mood.”

The Captain picks up his tray, “can’t say I’ve ever seen Ghost act like this in the time we’ve known each other.”

And that’s saying something, coming from Price. Soap has only been on the team for a few months, the newest member of the taskforce, but even he can tell this is unprecedented. It worries him a little, if he’s honest. People don’t just… wake up one day and decide to completely change everything about the way they act.

But then again, Ghost isn’t like most people. That has also become obvious very quickly.

He could write a book worth of Ghost’s little oddities, like the way he shoves knives up his sleeves even while on base, how he likes to go to the gym at night, how he somehow has a mask for every occasion.

It’s infuriatingly charming, it makes him want to know more, find all the little things that make Ghost the way he is, open his chest like he does with explosives, and see the way everything ticks. Find that off switch that keeps the Lieutenant calm, learn which wires go where.

By now, Soap can confidently say he knows a lot about Gaz and Price, but Ghost remains an enigma to him. Today just solidified that.

Price rises from his chair, stretching his back with a groan, “do remember you have paperwork due today, Sergeant. You don’t have time to play with your Lieutenant until that’s on my desk.”

Fuckin’ hell. He forgot to finish that last night. Dejectedly, Soap answers, “yes sir.”

Writing down reports might be Soap’s least favorite part of his job. They went on a mission, killed some guys, found a bloody USB stick, came back at an ungodly hour. Why does he have to write several pages on that is beyond him.

After hours of semi successfully trying to harness the last of his attention span towards that, Soap enters Price’s office to place the accursed reports on his desk. The Captain isn’t there, but that way there’s no risk of him giving him even more menial tasks.

Soap wonders about base, searching for someone to entertain him (perhaps someone very specific, whose name starts with G, and ends with host).

He eventually comes across Gaz in the larger common room, “how was training with Ghost?”.

Soap flops down onto the couch, jostling Kyle, who kicks him in retaliation, “was a lot less annoying than with you cunt.”

He gasps theatrically and puts a hand over his heart, “you don’t mean that!”

Gaz laughs, “no, but…”

“...but?”

Gaz’s brows furrow, and his tone becomes more serious, “we had a… surprisingly deep conversation. He kinda helped me through a few things, with responsibility and death and... Never expected him to be this understanding.”

Soap puts his legs in Gaz’s lap, getting comfortable, “you told me before that he cares, even when it doesn’t look like it.”

He still remembers the talks both Price and Gaz gave him, about Ghost. They were quite protective of their most legendary member, and for Soap it cemented his love for this taskforce; they don’t act like other teams he’s been on at all. They actually care about each other, beyond watching the other’s six.

Gaz sighs, “I still stand by that, but the reason I said it is that Ghost usually doesn’t show it. And if he does, it’s in a roundabout way.”

“Where is he now?”

“He dragged the Captain out of his office after we finished with the rookies. Dunno to where.”

Soap pouts, crossing his arms and staring at the ceiling. Everyone gets to have one-on-one time with Ghost but him, it seems. It feels only a little unfair.

Gaz coos, “are you sulking because our scary Lieutenant didn’t come to spend time with you today?”

“Ah’m not sulking!” Soap kicks Gaz, the Brit giggling and pushing his legs away, “and you have no place to talk! I was alone the whole day doin’ steaming paperwork!”

Kyle picks his legs back up, giving them a comforting pat, “you’ll have tomorrow, and the days after that. I don’t understand why you’re in such a rush.”

He exhales roughly, “what if he won’t be in a mood to talk after today?”

“Then he’ll just go back to how we all know Ghost to be. Was that that bad?” Gaz asks.

“...no.”

“There you go. Now, I heard there’s a footie match with Scotland in a few minutes-”

Soap reaches for the remote before he could finish the sentence, “they better fuckin’ win this time!”

Scotland did not win this time, but he and Gaz enjoyed shouting at the players and howling whenever they missed a goal. As much as he complained about not hanging out with Ghost, Kyle is as good company in his eyes.

Gaz left him after the match, too tired from a day of standing in the sun and running after recruits, leaving Soap alone with his thoughts. 

The hour was still too early for the gym to be completely empty, and he really wasn’t in the mood for some small talk, so Soap made his way to the shooting range. The lights were on, but he’s not likely to be pestered if he takes the furthest stall.

He stops in his tracks when he sees someone leaning against the opening. No, not just any someone.

“Ghost? What are you doin’ here at this hour?”

Ghost kicks off the door frame, “waiting for you.”

Soap brows furrow, “but- how did ye know I’m gonna-?”

“You’re predictable.” Ghost drawls, bone-white skull mask reflecting the moonlight, “also heard you were sulking from Gaz.”

He steps closer to the Lieutenant, “I was not sulking! It’s just…” he looks away, “you were busy, I get it-”

Ghost puts a hand on his shoulder, directing him to the step in front of the shooting range’s door, “I understand. Wanted to see you as well.”

“Ye did?” a little voice in his head cheers loudly. Soap shoves it back into the hole it crawled out of.

“Affirmative”, they sit down, knees knocking into each other. Soap expects Ghost to move. He doesn’t. “Noticed the looks you were giving me all day.”

Soap grimaces, “I was just-”

“Confused?” Ghost’s eyes are hidden in shadows, but he can still feel the weight of that stare on him, “that’s what I wanted to talk about, Johnny.”

There’s that nickname again. Ghost has never called him that.

“I decided something this morning.” Ghost looks away, to the dark training grounds and the base, “I’m… tired. Done in. So I’m not going to try anymore, I’ll take whatever I can get, and if it means this little bits of time with each of you, then so be it.”

Soap feels even more out of the loop than before. Furthermore, he’s even more concerned. What does Ghost mean by “not going to try anymore”?

“Ghost-”

“Simon”, Ghost corrects him, “I like it when you call me Simon.”

“I… I never called you that.”

Ghost’s head bows, his shoulders tense, “...right. Go on.”

“You- I’ll be honest, Yer worrying me. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy seeing ye finally talking with us, hanging out with Gaz and Price, but Ah just… are you solid, Simon?”

Simon lifts his head then, the meager light from the range finally allowing Soap to see his eyes, and it feels like a knife in his chest.

This calm demeanor has had for the whole day… isn’t from him being relaxed and content.

No… that’s the calm of a man in the gallows. Accepting his fate. Waiting to die.

Simon’s eyes crease again, his voice almost brittle, “I am, Johnny. Really. I understand now that I’ll never escape this. It’s fine. It will be fine as long as I have you, and Garrick, and Price.”

“What is ‘this’?” Soap wants to help, wants to know what is making those brown eyes so somber, but Simon is keeping something from him.

A gloved hand lifts, takes hold of the mask, and with it Soap’s breath, and slides the fabric and skull off.

Blond hair, curled when the strands have enough length, long nose that has been broken and reset one too many times, and scars, so many scars. Dark eyes surrounded by darker paint, running down pale cheeks.

Soap couldn’t have imagined a more heart-stopping face under that mask.

“You’ve asked this before, and I always answer. All it does is bother you, makes you sad, angry. I don’t want to see you burdened like that.” Simon murmurs, face oddly relaxed.

“I’m already worried, you numpty, so just let it out.” irritation bleeds into his words.

And the man simply smiles, an emotion Soap can’t identify in his eyes, “you never saw me as just the Ghost. Somehow, you can read me even through the mask.” Simon leans in a little closer, “always liked tha’ about you.”

The lights in the range abruptly cut off, plunging the both of them into inky darkness. Soap swivels his head to the rest of the base, where everything is dark as well. That… that shouldn’t happen. They have a generator, a backup source of power for situations like these.

Awareness prickles at his nape, an air of danger that isn’t supposed to permeate their home base.

Soap attempts to get up, “I’m going to check what-”

Simon pulls him back down, grip gentle, “stay.”

“What?” Soap turns to where he knows Simon is, nothing but a silhouette in the night now, “what if something happened, we should-”

“You won’t be able to fix this, Johnny. They destroyed the generators before going for the main power.”

“How-?!” flashes of light cut him off, distant explosions at the walls on the other side of base. Soap’s heart starts beating faster at the echoing sounds of battle crossing the desolate grounds, shots and screams and-

“Ghost, someone is fuckin’ attacking our base, we need to warn the others-!”

Simon doesn’t let him go, “too late now.”

“Too late- are you just going teh leave Price and Gaz-”

“They’re dead.” Simon’s voice is terrifyingly cold, no shadow of a doubt in it, “or, they will be within the next few minutes.”

Soap slumps back, shock shooting through his limbs, “how… Simon, what…?”

How could he know? He can’t, right? Gaz and Price… they can’t just be dead like that…right?

“Soap”, Simon pulls him closer, bodies leaning against each other, “what I’m going to ask of you is selfish, and weak of me, but I-” Simon exhales shakily, “I can’t do this anymore.”

His hand moves to his belt, and Simon pulls out a revolver, one of the models they have on range. He places it in Soap’s hand. Without uttering a word, Simon rearranges Soap’s fingers to be on the trigger, and lifts the barrel to line with his head.

He instinctually flinches away, but Simon hold’s on him tightens, keeping the gun aimed at himself.

“Simon-”

“Shoot me. No matter what I do, I can’t save all of you. I can’t watch you die anymore.” Simon’s voice quivers, “I can’t- can’t see your eyes like that, looking through me-” he feels the tremors in Simon’s body travelling down from his arms to their joined hands.

Soap shakes his head minutely, eyes wide open staring at Simon’s dark form, “Ah don’t want teh kill ye, Simon.”

Simon’s finger caresses his, gently lowers to his trigger finger. “I know, I’m- I’m sorry, Johnny. But you won’t remember any of this.”

Soap’s breath catches, his body frozen in shock, “don’t-”

Simon squeezes both of their fingers on the trigger.

Soap’s body startles awake, breaths coming out in small puffs. He rips the blanket off his sweaty skin, sitting up in bed.

This… nightmare, was more realistic than anything he’s ever experienced. He can still feel the revolver in his hand, Ghost’s pressed against his, pulling the trigger-

A knock startles him from his thoughts, and automatically Soap rises to open the door.

The last person he expected to see was Ghost.

“Morning, Johnny.” he greets.

Ice-cold shock shoots through his veins along with a sense of déjà vu, “Ghost…”

Ghost tilts his head, eyes narrowing, “...you solid, Sergeant?”

“A-aye.” snap out of it, it was just a fuckin’ dream, “something happen, LT?”

Ghost takes a moment to answer, “no, I was about to go to mess. Came to ask you to join.”

Soap nods, opening the door wider to step through, “yeah, yeah of course. Let’s go.” He starts walking towards mess, stopping after a few steps when he notices Ghost isn’t following.

“You’re going like this?” Ghost motions to his shirt. His moth-eaten, sleeping shirt.

Fuck. “Right. Give me a sec” he rushes back to his room, shutting the door loudly behind him.

Soap violently opens his closet and drawers, pulling out the same clothes he did in his dream. Because that was all it was, a dream. A stupid nightmare, not a premonition of any kind. Because people don’t get visions of their friends’ untimely death the night before it happens.

He just needs to screw his head on right. He opens the door again, giving Ghost a sheepish smile and restarting their walk to mess.

When they almost reach Gaz’s door, Soap stalls. He’s about to move again, scolding himself for even entertaining the idea that Gaz is about to burst out, just because it also happened in the nightmare-

Except he does, not a moment later, “Oh shit- sorry Soap, didn’t see you there.” Gaz rights his hat, stare drifting away to Ghost, “Lieutenant, sir! Didn’t see you either.”

Soap turns to look at Ghost as well, only to find him already looking at him, with wide eyes and stock still body.

“...Ghost?” Gaz asks after a few seconds of silence.

Ghost blinks rapidly, “affirmative. You’re in a rush for-”

“The chocolate pudding in mess.” Soap finishes for him, gaze still boring into Ghost.

Every single thing that happened in the nightmare…

“Yeah, Smith texted me.” Gaz continues, oblivious that he’s simply reciting lines from a predetermined text. “Are you two sure you’re alright-?”

Ghost’s arm shoots forward to grab his, something akin to fear and rage in his eyes. Soap gets dragged away with a considerable amount of force, his legs almost tripping on nothing. He can hear Gaz exclaiming behind them, but all of his attention stays on the bastard crushing his bicep.

“Ghost- fuckin’ hell, let me walk-!”

The Lieutenant is silent, walking with quick strides and shouldering the door to the training grounds open.

“Simon, stop-”

Ghost slams him against the outer wall of the base, Soap hissing when his head bounces off the rough concrete.

“How long?” Ghost growls.

“Wha’?”

Ghost shakes him once, shouting, “for how long have you been stuck?!”

Soap stares up confusingly, “stuck- what the fuck are you talking about?!” he yells back.

“The time loop, Soap! You fucking remember yesterday!”

“Time loop-” his muscles slacken, the fight instantly leaving him, “...it wasn’t a nightmare?”

His hearing becomes muffled with the sound of blood rushing past them, vision blurring. Ghost’s grips becomes lighter, until it leaves him completely.

His voice is gentler when he answers, “not a nightmare, Johnny.”

“I-” he looks up at him, “I killed you.”

Ghost stiffens, before he exhales roughly and turns away from Soap, “fuck…”

They stay silent, and the reality of their situation sinks in. They’re both stuck in a time loop, like some kind of steaming sci-fi movie. Soap wants to laugh, part of him grasping desperately at the notion that this must be some sort of prank. But he knows Ghost wouldn’t, couldn’t have known what happened in the “nightmare” otherwise.

Their conversation in the dark resurfaces in his memory, “Ghost… this is the first time I’m repeating a day.”

Dark eyes return to his, a sort of relief loosening Ghost’s muscles. He nods, taking in a slow breath, “good. Wouldn’t want you hiding it from me.”

“How long have you been stuck…?”

Ghost hums, eyes unfocusing, “stopped counting after the second month.”

“Steamin’ Jesus…”

Things start clicking in Soap’s mind rapidly. Ghost’s odd change in behaviour, the way he knew when each and every event in the day happens, how he knew where to find him…

When the attack will begin…

Ghost’s entire speech before it… how he’ll never “escape this”...

“You gave up.” Soap walks around Ghost, attempting to catch his eye contact, “yesterday. Is that why ye wanted me to kill ye?”

Ghost avoids him again, murmuring quietly, “thought it would stop it.”

“You-” realization hits him, “you thought you’d stay dead. Have ye never died in the loop before?”

Ghost sneaks a hand under his mask, scrubbing at his eyes, “never had anyone else kill me. Killed myself plenty, but whenever I tried getting killed by someone else… never works.” the gloved hands retreat from under the balaclava, marred with greasepaint, and it strikes Soap just how tired Ghost looks. Body bowing under the invisible burden of countless days, countless deaths.

Simon doesn’t have anything left to give. A flicker of determination lights up in Soap’s chest, a decision to do anything to lessen that burden.

“Then go on, tell me the rules of this shite.”

Ghost squints, “the time loop?” he sighs, “day resets when I die or kill myself, and if I don’t, it will the moment the clock strikes midnight.”

Soap nods. It sounds like it’s not Ghost’s survival that is the requirement to break the loop. Then…

“Ye think if we manage to save everyone, we’ll stop repeatin’ days?”

Ghost leans back against the wall Soap was slammed into earlier, “undoubtedly.”

Soap tilts his head at Ghost’s solemn tone, “but…?” he prompts.

“It’s impossible.”

“C’mon LT, you can’t just-”

Ghost pushes off, stomping to tower over Soap with a sudden burst of movement, “you think I haven’t tried everything already, MacTavish?! I can save one of you, but the other two die. If we separate, you all die. If I tell everyone about the loop, Price reports me to medical because he thinks I bloody lost my mind, and if I don’t, I can’t explain how I know an attack is incoming.” Ghost exhales harshly, “I tried… everything.”

Soap doesn’t back down despite the sheer amount of rage dripping from Ghost’s tone. Because he recognizes what that rage is hiding.

“But it’s different, now.”

Ghost’s shoulders drop, “yes. Now I fucked you over as well. We’ll never escape this.”

Soap shakes his head, “we haven’t tried doing it together yet, ye can’t jus’ give up!” he decides to risk placing a hand on his shoulder, “please, Simon.”

He didn’t expect the words to budge anything in Ghost’s grim resolve to abandon hope, and he watches in astonishment as Ghost sighs and nods, “alright, Johnny.”

Soap wonders what has happened to Ghost before, what he has experienced with other versions of himself that made him trust him so readily. A pang of jealousy at them rings through him, that they got to see Simon open up to them.

What could they have told him? Which one called him ‘Simon’ first? When did Simon start calling him ‘Johnny’?

A heartbeat later, he shook it off, choosing to be grateful to them instead. Without them, Soap isn’t sure he would’ve been able to convince Ghost.

Soap smiles at him, letting his arm fall from his shoulder, “right. What intel do we have?” approaching this as any other mission is probably the only way he could keep from losing his mind.

He watches as Ghost enters the same mindset, “Power shuts off at 2125, but a rat causes a malfunction in the generators at the start of the day. I can’t wake up before 0600, so I can’t catch him.”

“Do ye know who it is?”

“Affirm. Got access to the cameras once, they leave base at 0530.” Ghost continues, “we can’t prevent the power outage, if we can’t fix the generator. Main power failure at night comes from somewhere outside base.”

So they’ll have to fight in the dark in any possible outcome… 

Soap is reminded of the explosions he heard yesterday, “what about the charges that went off?”

Ghost sighs, “they run along the outside, placed approximately at 2136.”

“I’ll be able to disarm them.”

“They’ll catch you before you get a pinky on ‘em.”

“Well, good thing we got infinite tries, aye?” Soap smirks. “Wait… will the loop reset if I die?”

“I…” Ghost looks away, “I don’t know.”

Soap frowns, looking at the recruits making their way to the training grounds. Gaz should arrive here soon…

“We should test it.” Soap reaches for Ghost’s sleeve, telegraphing his movements clearly so the man doesn’t spook.

Ghost bristles, “Johnny-”

He rolls the dark fabric back, revealing a long blade hidden beneath it, “I killed ye when you asked, only fair you do the same.”

“I didn’t think you’d remember.” Ghost mutters quietly, allowing Soap to take the knife despite his verbal protests.

Soap flips the blade in his hand, offering the hilt to Ghost. He doesn’t reach for it for several long seconds. “Ye rather I do it myself? Won’t be pretty.”

Ghost’s frowned brows regard the blade, before he takes it with a heavy sigh, “turn around.” he orders gently. Soap complies, feeling his heart rate jump at the touch of gloved hands on his nape. 

He’s not sure if it’s fear or exhilaration.

The hands tilt his head forward, and the tip of the knife barely scrapes the ends of his hair.

Ghost almost whispers into his ear, “relax. I won’t let you feel a thing.” he angles the knife so the blade will drive straight into his brain with a push, “tell me when you’re ready, Johnny.”

Soap takes a big breath in, forcing his muscles to loosen. He just needs to trust Ghost. Trust Simon.

It’s… scarily easy to.

“I’m ready.”

The world goes dark in a blink.

Soap opens his eyes to the sight of his barrack’s ceiling. He sits up slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. It felt painful for only a short moment.

Well, that answers his question, he muses to himself.

As the minutes trickle by without a knock at his door, Soap becomes worried. Where’s Ghost?

He quickly changes to his fatigues and walks out, feet taking him to Ghost’s door at the very far end of the hallway. It’s surrounded by supply closets and sits at a dead end, so most people don’t pass through here, making it unnaturally silent for how crowded the other parts of base are.

Soap knocks on the only door with a nameplate, “Ghost? Ye there?”

Nothing. Soap tries the handle, finding it unlocked, and slowly pushes in, “hope yer decent, LT…”

He spots Ghost sitting at the edge of his cot, elbows resting on his knees and eyes staring blankly at the bare wall in front of him.

“Simon?” he carefully walks over, crouching in front of him, “...ye solid?”

“...Didn’t reset.” Ghost eventually murmurs, jaw tight under his balaclava, “your death doesn’t reset it.”

Soap sits back on his haunches.

Ghost continues, “they found me, Price and Gaz. I didn’t- didn’t just want to leave your body there. They…” his voice breaks, and he clears his throat. Soap’s gut wrenches. “They apprehended me and shoved me in a cell. Interrogated me ‘till midnight. Never seen Price that angry, Gaz-” he shakes his head, as if to expel the memories, “kept screaming, threatened to come into the cell to off me, and-”

“Simon.”

Simon gets up with no warning, hands flexing by his side, unable to meet his eyes, “I’m- Johnny-”

Soap rises to his feet as well, and in the spur of the moment wraps his arms around Ghost, pulling him into a tight hug. Instantly, Simon sags into him, his head dropping to his shoulder.

He was callous to think Simon could kill him and think nothing of it. This is not the Ghost he knew a few days ago – this is a Ghost that saw his team die again and again, stuck in a loop he couldn’t break, for months.

Soap doesn’t think he could conceive of a crueler method of torture.

“Ah’m sorry.”

Simon’s fingers twist into his shirt. 

“Promise me… that you won’t die.” Simon whispers, sounding so much like a young child, afraid of the monster under his bed, and not like a decorated SAS operator. “I can’t- can’t-”

“I’ll do my best.”

He feels Simon’s head shake, “promise.”

“...I promise.”

They stay silent after that, holding onto each other like they’ll fall apart once their hands retreat. Soap lost in regret, and fear, and unfathomable worry, that Simon really will just give up. Even with him here, stuck in the same loop.

They may have all the time in the world, but how long will it take until there’s nothing of Ghost left to save?

They leave Ghost’s room, hands still unable to leave the other. Soap wants to get back to making progress on their mission, but he worries Simon’s drained. As if sensing it, Simon squeezes his hand, making Soap look at him.

“I think we should tell Price and Gaz.”

Soap blinks, “but ye said it never worked?”

Simon nods, eyes half-lidded, “Because it was only me. They won’t be able to excuse it with hallucinations when two people experience the same thing.” he lets go of Soap, his hand instantly mourning the loss, “they’ve left mess already, if they’re still behaving like usual.”

Right. This is new territory for Ghost, so he can’t rely on previous days anymore, “I’ll call Gaz, can you get Price?”

“Affirm. We’ll meet in the Captain’s office.” the Lieutenant turns to leave, and Soap opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, wanting to say something to encourage Ghost, or help him in any way, before he gives up and pulls out his phone.

The call rings only twice before Gaz picks up, “where were you this morning?! You missed the chocolate pudding!”

“Good morning to you too, Kyle.” he huffs, “had to deal with an emergency.”

Gaz instantly starts interrogating him, “what? You alright, mate?”

“Aye, but we need to get to Price’s office.”

“Copy. Stay safe, Soap.”

“You too.” he ends the call, and makes his way to the office. Anticipation roils in his gut. He had a hard time believing the time loop, and he saw it first hand. How are they going to convince the others of it?

Gaz is waiting outside the Captain’s office when Soap arrives. He gives him a reassuring nod, before knocking on the door.

“Open.” Price’s gruff voice calls.

Ghost is already inside, leaning against the far wall, and if Soap didn’t know better, he’d look as composed as he is every day. But he does know better, and the tension in his shoulders doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Right.” Price addresses Soap, “Ghost told me he and you have something important to tell us, and that it absolutely can’t wait for later, so let it out.”

Soap looks towards Ghost, a little lost with how to begin.

He regrets letting him start when he simply states, with no prior warning, “We’re stuck in a time loop.”

The office is quiet for a few seconds, before Gaz half-coughs, half-laughs. Soap sends him an unimpressed stare when he sees his lips tighten in an attempt to stay silent.

Price doesn’t sound amused in the slightest, “...if this is some sort of joke, it’s not very funny.” his tone becomes gentler, “but if you’re serious, Ghost, we can go to medical-”

Ghost takes a step towards Price, “I’m not having a psychosis episode, John.”

“Son-”

Soap intervenes, “Ah’m also in the loop, Captain.”

“MacTavish, this is not the time to fuck around!”

Shite, this is not working at all. He watches Ghost deflate, practically hears him give up again. He can’t watch him like this.

“Gaz” he turns to Kyle, “Smith texted ye in the morning, that’s how you knew about the pudding, right?”

Gaz’s brows shoot up, “yeah? How did you…?”

“There’s going to be a football match with Scotland today, ye were gonna invite me to watch with you.”

“You could’ve looked that up, Soap.” Price doesn’t sound convinced, but his expression loses the edge of anger it previously had.

“Scotland is gonna lose 0-2.”

The Captain sighs, “the match is at 1900, and even if you’re right, it still can be a lucky guess.” he leans back against his chair, “look, I can tell you’re serious about this, but I’ll need more proof before I can believe something like time loops exists.”

There must be something that could prove it, something one of them said that he shouldn’t know-

“Your favorite food is sausages, a specific recipe your father made. He died when you were nineteen, and you haven’t had them since.” Ghost murmurs. Price freezes, and his head turns slowly to stare at the Lieutenant.

“...I’ve never told that to anyone-”

“Garrick’s biggest fear is to watch his squad die.” Ghost continues, “he feels responsible for any injury any of us get, any loss. When one of us goes on a solo mission, he stays awake for as long as he can so he won’t miss any information about us.”

Gaz gapes, “How-”

“Price calls me Simon because he worries I’ll stop being used to the name.” Ghost crosses his arms, almost hugging himself, “Garrick was mocked during basic, was called weaker because he showed care to other soldiers, until he beat the records on several tests.” he doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes.

The Captain removes his hat, brushing a hand through his short-cropped hair, “fucking hell. Okay. I believe you.”

“Yeah…” Gaz shakes his head, “alright. You two are stuck in a bloody time loop. How do we get you out?”

A weight lifts from his heart. Soap smiles in relief, and it broadens when Ghost finally looks at him.

“There’s going to be an attack on our base this night. At least two of you will die, caught off guard.” Ghost explains, the soldiers in the room listening with rapt attention, “we need to keep you alive.”

“A surprise attack? How is that possible?” Price frowns.

Soap joins in, “they sabotaged emergency power this morning, and they’ll cut off the main source tonight, while breaching the south wall with explosives. And ‘fore ye ask, we can’t fix it, unless any of ye know how to operate a generator.”

“Do we know who it is?” Gaz asks.

“Anthony Simmons. Our latest target.” Ghost grounds bitterly, “think we disrupted his business enough he decided attacking an SAS base is worth the risk.”

Simmons… responsible for most illegal arms dealing in the UK. He must’ve joined forces with some of the 141’s enemies to have enough manpower to storm a base, but then again, those aren’t hard to come by, are they?

“Wait,” Gaz frowns and turns to face Soap, “how many times have you repeated a day to know all of that?”

“This is only the second time for me. Ghost has been stuck for… much longer.”

“And out of those loops, how many times have you tried telling us?” Price looks over to Ghost, concerned.

“...Twice.” the masked man answers, like it doesn’t twist Price’s features in shocked anger.

“Twice”, Price scoffs, “I’m… do you really trust us that little-”

“He trusts you plenty, Captain.” Soap cuts him off, hands clenching and nostrils flaring with anger, because he won’t let him insinuate Simon hasn’t been trying, “ye don’t trust his word, you always jump to the conclusion he must’ve lost his mind instead of telling the truth. You’ve done the same today, and if Ah wasn’t also stuck in this shite, ye would’ve sent ‘im to a shrink ten minutes ago.”

“Soap…” Gaz tries to placate, but he ignores it in favor of sending death glares at Price.

“Johnny.” Ghost breaks his resolve, “enough. He doesn’t need to apologize for something a different version of him did.”

Price sighs, “I don’t need to, but I will. I’m sorry, Simon. For not believing you.”

Ghost’s eyes widen, and Soap thinks they become a little shinier. He drops his head to the ground, clearing his throat. “Don’t worry about it, Captain.”

“We should each tell you a secret.” Gaz says, “something that will instantly make us know you’re telling the truth.”

“Good idea.” Soap hums. He hates approaching this day knowing they’ll likely will have to repeat this conversation again, but if they could speed it up tomorrow it’ll make it less demoralizing. “Do ye have anything in mind?”

Gaz blinks, and looks away with a bashful smile, “it’ll have to be something I would never admit under any other circumstance… yeah, I think I got something, unfortunately.” he plays with the strings on his sweatpants, “Captain, you remember Farah and Alex?”

The names are unfamiliar to Soap, but a glint of recognition lights in Price’s eyes, “of course. What about them?”

“Uhm… fuck, I really would not say it if it didn’t help you.” Gaz’s voice lowers, “I might be a little… interested in them.”

“...In what way?” one of Price’s brows lift inquisitively.

Gaz pulls on the bill of his baseball hat to hide his face, “in a romantic way.” he almost whispers.

“Oh.” the Captain softly exclaims. “That’s… completely fine, son-”

Kyle hides behind his hands and groans, “can we please not talk about it, sir?”

Soap pats Gaz’s shoulder, “we won’t ask, mate.” he grins towards the Captain, “yer turn, sir.”

Price sighs, and strokes his beard in thought. When he grimaces, Soap knows he found a suitable secret.

“When I was about fifteen, I smoked my first cigarette. Couldn’t take more than a couple of breaths of it before I puked.”

Gaz removes his hands from his face to point at Price, “there’s no way this is the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done!”

Price gives him an unimpressed look, “I puked directly on my crush at the time.”

“...Oh.” Gaz winces in sympathy.

“Yes, ‘oh’.” Price rolls his eyes, “now, let’s get back to that attack. You got anything else we can use, Ghost?”

“Affirm. I know how each of you dies.”

Soap almost laughs at how chilling that statement is, coming from a guy dressed like the grim reaper.

Ghost shoots him a look that makes Soap sober up, “Price leaves his office at 2122, gets caught on his way to our common room. Garrick fights along a few other soldiers from the rooms next to his barracks, they all die to a frag. And Johnny…” Ghost’s eyes meet his, “Soap’s the only one with a decent gun inside base at the moment of the attack, so he runs off to help the others. He dies last, with an empty mag and a knife in his throat.”

Soap swallows around the bitter taste on his tongue at the mental image of Ghost finding his body like that, “You said ye can save one of us, but never more. What happens then?”

“Only reason you’re saved is by either knowing of the attack beforehand or by acquiring gear.” Ghost grounds, hand flexing in an odd way, and Soap realizes he’s fidgeting with the knife up his sleeve, “and as I’ve said before, I can’t warn you because you won’t believe me. I can’t carry enough gear for four.”

“But we know now.” Gaz interjects, “we can go to the armory, ask them for our vests and rifles.”

“We can. But that won’t save the rest of the base.” Price sighs.

“I have no reason to believe it’s necessary for breaking the loop.” Ghost states firmly, arms crossing.

The Captain’s brows lift, and he narrows his eyes at the Lieutenant, “you… we can’t just let the base fend for itself, while we know something’s going to happen.”

“I don’t care-”

“Simon Riley, I swear to all that’s good and holy if you finish that sentence-”

“I can’t care, Price!” Ghost growls, hunching over the desk menacingly, “I can’t save three people, you think I can afford to try and save hundreds?!”

Price stares at Ghost, his expression mellowing. “We have to try.”

Ghost lets out a laugh that sounds closer to a sob than anything else, “sick of trying, Captain.”

Price pushes off his chair, and puts a hand on his bicep, “I understand, son. I… can’t say I can imagine what you’ve been going through.”

Ghost takes a few deep breaths, nodding slowly and gently stepping away from Price’s touch, “we’re burning daylight. We need to come up with a plan.”

Soap wants to pull Ghost into another hug, the way he did this morning, but he doesn’t think that’s what he would want right now.

Instead, he says, “I got an idea.”

“Soap, Gaz, what’s your status?”

He lowers into a crouch, walking along the outer wall of the base, “solid. Still not in position.”

“Copy, you got twenty before power’s off.” Ghost’s low tone rumbles over their comms.

The area surrounding the base is made up of mostly flat land, to allow the huge floodlights around the walls to illuminate it and leave no place for a hostile (or a confused tourist, mostly) to hide.

Tonight, this will be a disadvantage for their side, as they won’t have any cover if they get caught by hostiles out here.

Gaz, whose been walking in front of Soap, motions him to stop, and points to one of the watchtowers above them. The soldier on duty seems to be alert, and Soap resists the urge to hold his breath while they wait. Not a few seconds later, the soldier startles, and pulls out his radio. He exchanges a few words with the caller before getting up and leaving the tower. That would be Price’s work.

The Captain reconnects to their line, “Watchtower’s empty, boys, you’re clear to proceed.”

“Copy.”

They continue their careful walk to the wall between this watchtower and the next - the planting site for the charges that will breach it.

Their plan, which was mostly Soap’s idea, is to separate to 2 teams; the first stays on base, making sure the soldiers are gathered together and ready for an attack, and the second slows the infiltration of Simmon’s men.

Both teams have to do so covertly, since they’ve come to the conclusion that even if they alert the higher ups of an approaching attack, without any more concrete evidence than ‘two of our elite operators are stuck in a fucking time loop’, nobody would believe them. They decided that Price and Ghost will stay, as they have higher ranks and therefore are able to order around more soldiers with less need to explain their reasoning.

Soap and Gaz, then, were left to be here, waiting for the hostiles to plunge the base into darkness.

Before leaving, Ghost pulled Soap to the side, his eyes a fake veneer of professionalism, but shaking fingers betraying him. Soap only gave him a smile, a soft punch to his shoulder, and walked before he could allow his nerves to show.

Because he is nervous, in a way he hasn’t been on a mission since he joined the 141. Not because he’s afraid to die, but because he doesn’t want Ghost to hurt any more than he already is.

Soap promised Ghost he’ll try to not die - and he will drag himself back to him with broken arms if he has to.

“Two minutes to power shutdown, get ready.” Ghost rips him away from his thoughts.

Soap flips his NVG’s over his eyes, blinking while they get used to the muted green-blue hues. Gaz ahead of him does the same.

“Copy, in position and ready.” Gaz radios back.

The seconds trickle by slowly, Soap feeling his heart rate rise in anticipation, and mentally chiding himself for being this anxious. He shouldn’t, considering he knows he can’t die (or stay dead, really). But somehow, the stakes feel higher than any other mission he’s been on before.

Maybe just like Simon, Soap too can’t watch someone he cares about fall apart.

The power shuts down, the electrical hum that previously filled the night air abruptly cutting off. Sop checks his clock.

2126. Ten minutes left.

He quickly pulls out the several kilograms of explosives he packed into his tacvest. Ghost gave him an approximation of the enemy’s trucks parking locations, but he hasn’t spent enough time in his previous loops here to give him exact coordinates. Soap decided to stay on the safer side, and pack more than he would’ve.

He throws the packs of C4 a good distance from Gaz, as the last thing he needs right now is to explode both of them. It might not be enough, but hopefully it will slow the hostiles down enough for their soldiers to realize something is wrong.

In the unnatural silence, Soap can hear the engines of several trucks approaching their position. Gaz clicks off the safety on his assault rifle. He gives one last check that the explosives are connected correctly to each other and the detonator, and returns to Kyle’s side.

His heart screams that they’re not going to win this time around.

“Hey Gaz?”

“Yeah?”

Soap gives in to the sinking feeling in his gut, “if I don’t make it… can you make sure Ghost doesn’t see my…”

“I won’t, Soap.” Gaz reaches for him, putting an arm around him as much as he can with all the gear on them, “let’s try to not get to that, though.”

“Aye.” he can make out the shapes of trucks filled to the brim with hostiles hurtling towards the base. Gaz switches the sights on his gun.

“You got about 5 seconds before they reach the explosives.”

Soap’s finger hovers over the detonator, counting under his breath.

Three…

Two…

The trucks roll over the half-circle of charges around them. Soap presses the button.

One second the vehicles are there, the next a flash of light blinds them both. Even though he knew to squeeze his eyes shut, Soap could still see colorful shapes dancing in his vision when he opened them. A smaller explosion shakes the ground, Simmon’s men screaming at the surprise attack. Serves them right.

Unfortunately, they regain their footing quickly enough, and soon bullets started ricocheting off of the base’s walls.

“Soap! On your two, three hostiles!” Gaz shouts while aiming to his left, fire messing with their NVGs.

Soap shoots two men down, the third ducking away and only getting grazed. He takes out a Semtex, throwing it in the last man’s direction and averting his attention to Gaz right as he yells.

“Kyle!” he watches in horror as a bullet rips through his thigh, a matching wound in the other. Gaz goes down hard, with grunts of pain and bared teeth. Soap runs towards him, shooting another hostile down, but he’s not fast enough.

Gaz stares at him, eyes full of horror, gaze flickering back to the fight when a bullet almost hits his head. He’s stuck, unable to get to cover, fate practically sealed.

Soap slides to a stop. He changes course to the nearest wrecked truck, more mangled steel than a vehicle. The lingering fire singes his arm hairs, but he doesn’t feel a thing.

They’re trapped, pushed against the wall with no backup in sight. They may be able to fend off by themselves, but the moment they run out of bullets…

He lifts a shaky hand to his comms.

“Ghost?” Soap whispers.

“Soap. What’s your status?”

He swallows thickly, “Don’t come to the wall.”

“What?” Ghost’s voice sharpen.

“Ah’m sorry, Simon. Gaz, he’s- his legs are fucking shot, they’ve got us surrounded, not gettin’ out of this alive-”

He cuts himself off when he hears a small sigh, clothes rustling on the other side, Price’s voice shouting from far away, “SIMON DON’T-”

And like a curtain at the end of a show, Soap’s vision goes black.

Soap wakes up with a sharp inhale, clean air jarring, when all he smelled a moment ago was smoke. He jumps out of bed, changing quickly and running out of his room.

He almost runs into Ghost in his hurry. Ghost, who was on his way to his room.

“Easy, Johnny.” he gets caught by his shoulders.

Soap pants, “Ghost- it was my fault, I should’ve placed the explosives farther ahead, detonated them later-”

“Sergeant.” Ghost squeezes his arms lightly, “I’m not mad.”

And he really isn’t, when Soap actually takes the time to look at Ghost, he discovers him completely calm.

“...You expected this to happen.”

Ghost’s eyes crease, in the way Soap has learned means he’s smiling, “this is what always happens. I’m just happy I ended the day before all of you were dead.”

Soap feels his lips twist downwards, adrenaline leaving him unmoored and tired. He’s not sure if he’s telling it to Ghost or to himself, when he says, “we have to keep trying.”

Ghost doesn’t answer, instead letting his hands fall away. “You got a new plan?”

A door behind them opens loudly before he can answer, “where’s-” Gaz turns his head to them, “oh, Soap! And Ghost. C’mon, we need to go to the cafeteria, Smith texted me-”

Soap drops his head, slightly irritated for having to repeat this conversation again, but happy to see Gaz nonetheless, “aye, there’s chocolate pudding in mess.”

“Yeah! How did you know?” Kyle gives him a lopsided smile.

He sighs and throws a thumb behind him, “stuck in a time loop with Ghost.”

Gaz stares at him before a laugh erupts from his throat, and he bends over giggling. Soap allows him a few moments before he comments, “are ye done?”

“Fuck mate you can’t do that to me this early in the morning, the look on Ghost’s face-” he laughs a little more, before forcing a serious expression, “yeah, yeah I’m done.”

“Good. You have a crush on Alex and Farah.”

Gaz freezes for a moment, and his brows shoot up, “how the fuck- how do you even know who they are-”

“I don’t. Ye told me yesterday.” Soap frowns, “or, well, today… was yesterday for me.”

Ghost taps him on the shoulder, “we need to get going, Johnny. Earlier we get everyone together, the more time we got to prepare.”

“Right”, he takes Kyle’s arm, nudging him in the direction of Price’s office, “let’s go.”

Gaz makes a confused sound, “prepare for what?”

Ghost mutters quietly, so lowly that Soap almost misses it, “another death.”

Fifteen times. They’ve tried fifteen times since that day.

The first three were similar, the same plan as before with minimal variation. One time, he went out with Ghost instead of Gaz. Soap ended up with a bullet to the shoulder, incapacitated and waiting to die. Ghost made sure he didn’t wait long.

After that, they tried telling more people. Alert the soldiers at the watchtowers, supply others with weapons. For the most part, they didn’t believe them, even when Price and Gaz vouched for the credibility of their story. And when they were believed, it wasn’t enough. The base too big, their enemy too strong.

On the fifteenth try, Soap managed to slow the infiltration with precisely placed explosives, toppling a recently vacated watchtower over the entrance. Ghost was alone, using the cover of night to pick off anyone getting close to the barracks, where most soldiers are at the time. Gaz and Price were with Soap, leading the charge on the main group of hostiles.

It went well. They reached 2240, the furthest they’ve ever seen.

Maybe it was that fact, or the fact that Soap has done this so many times, each day starting to blend together, each defeat the same shade of bright red.

He doesn’t know what it was, but he lost focus, and while the others were fighting ahead of him, he got blindsided by a heavy body slamming into his.

The hostile tackled him to the ground, and Soap barely managed to get his arms up in time to block the knife heading for his throat. He grunted as the blade dug into his forearm, and attempted to push off the enemy. The man was built like Ghost, big and muscular, and Soap might’ve been able to win, if he wasn’t on his fifteenth day.

But he was, and the hostile breaks his guard, stabbing Soap in the chest, then the shoulder, then the stomach. Soap can’t breathe, but by instinct alone his arm reaches for the pistol at his hip, and shoots the heavy bastard three times in the head, until the body drops.

Every single part of him hurts. Most of all, the vile taste of another loss on his tongue, and a broken promise.

Soap futilely tries to get the lifeless body crushing him off, but his muscles feel like jelly, and every small movement shoots fire through the several holes littering his torso, making more blood bubble up.

So Soap gives up. He clicks his radio on, listens to the others check in, notice his absence. He knows he should say something, let Ghost know this loop is a bust and restart, but…

He finds he doesn’t want to. For once, he just wants to stay here, bathing in his own blood, pain so blinding he can almost pretend it’s not there.

“MacTavish, fucking answer me! What’s your status?!” Ghost’s voice sounds… frantic. Soap doesn’t like it.

It takes a lot of effort just to click the button to answer, “s’rry, Ghost. Ah’m… Ah’m here.”

“...Johnny? Where are you?”

He coughs a little, a flush of cold making his vision swim, “in general? Stuck.” he laughs at his own stupid joke, the sound turning into a bitten off cry when pain shoots through his body again. “Fuck-”

“How bad is it?” Ghost asks, gently, in a way Soap doesn’t think he’s earned to hear from him.

“Bad. H-hurts.” Soap feels tears run to his hairline, “but Ah don’t want to die. Don’ want ye teh die. I can survive, just-” a whine rips from his throat without his permission, “just a wee bit over one hour till midnight, righ’?”

“I’m not going to let you keep suffering-”

“We are s-so close.” Soap’s eyes cease to see, blood loss taking his vision and plunging him back into the darkness he grew to despise more than anything, “Ah don’ want teh do this again, Ghost… please…”

Ghost sounds more muffled when he murmurs, “I’ll see you in a few, Johnny.” a finality in his voice that tells Soap he’s putting a gun to his temple yet again.

“No…” Soap wants to beg, but talking is starting to become more difficult than it should be, “Simon… please… don’t…..”

He hears a gunshot, and then nothing at all.

When Soap wakes up, he doesn’t bother opening his eyes. He knows what he’ll see, the same ceiling, in the same washed-out white shade, bathed in the same morning sunlight of the same fucking day.

It must’ve been a few minutes of him drifting into uncomfortable consciousness, when there’s a knock on the door. Same one he’s heard all the way back when this shit started.

“Soap? You still there?” Ghost asks behind the thin plywood. Soap can hear the handle rattle as Ghost checks if it’s locked.

Apparently, ‘yesterday Soap’ locked it. He couldn’t remember if he tried - it’s been weeks since ‘yesterday’.

“Johnny?”

How did Ghost survive this long alone? The world around him oblivious to the glitch in time, lives around him continuing like normal, as if they aren’t also stuck?

A heavy weight squeezes his lungs, a despair in a magnitude he’s never felt, the knowledge they’re not going to ever escape this caving in his rib cage. Soap keeps his eyes closed, because if he opens them, he’ll need to face another day, fight and die, like he won’t just do it again in the next.

The flimsy lock on his door clicks, and it slides open slowly, “I’m coming in”, Ghost warns, not that Soap cares.

He’s facing the wall, but he can sense Ghost walking towards the bed, and sitting down after a few moments of silence. Soap lets one eye blink open, still staring at the wall in front of him. Somehow, with just his presence, Ghost lends him strength.

Soap clears his throat quietly, words spilling out before he can stop them, “I don’t know if I can keep going.”

A hand finds his calf, slowly caressing him through the thin blanket, “we can stop.” Ghost murmurs, his tone similar to the way he talked when he understood they’re not making it out this time.

“Stop? And what, stay stuck?” Soap scoffs.

The hand warms his skin, more than this sun ever could, “yes.” Soap hears clothes rustling, “give up. But that’s not what you want, is it?”

“An’ how do ye know what Ah want?” anger starts bubbling within him, Soap regretting his harsh tone a moment after he lets it out. Ghost doesn’t deserve it, never does.

The hand leaves him, and Soap raises his head in alarm, because if Ghost leaves, there really is no point to continue-

His eyes widen when he sees him, mask in his hand, knee coming up to rest on the bed. Gentle blond curls almost glowing in the sunlight, brown eyes like dark pools that anchor him in the spiral he found himself in.

Simon’s thin lips move slowly, Soap enchanted by the way they pull on the scars, “I know, because you kept me going.”

“But-” Soap brings his knees up, “Ah didn’t know what ye were going through before. Didn’t know it really is…”

“Impossible?”

“Aye…” he drops his head to stare at his own lap. A gloved hand appears at the edges of his vision.

Ghost nudges his shoulder softly, “move over.”

Soap blinks up in confusion, and scoots closer to the wall, allowing Ghost to sit beside him. The bed was certainly not made for two people their size, and their bodies are pressed together. It’s comforting.

“That day wasn’t the first time I tried to get you to kill me.” Ghost lets out eventually.

Soap stares at him, “what happened the other times?”

“You got mad.” Ghost smiles sadly, “threw the gun away, as far as you could. Grabbed me by the face and forced me to look, really look, at you. And you talked.”

“And what did Ah say?”

Ghost’s light eyelashes flutter, “you’d always let me know, before anything else, how much of a ‘dafty’ I am.” Soap laughs a little at that, while Ghost continues, “then you’d say that I’m not allowed to give up.”

Soap frowns. “Why?”

Ghost turns to stare at him, “you said I haven’t seen everything this world has to offer yet. You promised to show me, if I stay. You were so…” he sighs, mind clearly far away in an unreachable fantasy, “determined. Sure that you could change my mind. I didn’t understand why you cared so much.”

Soap’s heart hammers loudly in his chest, his own words swirling with distant memories. Of yesterday, and the days before it.

“I called you Johnny, once, on a whim. Wanted to see your reaction.” Ghost huffs, “and in all the days I’ve been through, you never acknowledged it, never told me to stop. Always smiled wider instead.”

“Simon…”

He leans closer to Soap, their noses almost touching, “I know you want to live, because you made me continue living. I know how you look when you lie, and you never lied to me.”

Soap exhales shakily, “but Ah’m not that person anymore. Neither of us are.”

Simon wraps a hand around his nape, pulls his head to rest on his shoulder, “no. But we haven’t seen everything yet. We’ll keep changing, and maybe we’ll become something better by the end of it.”

Soap buries his nose in Simon’s neck, “and what if we won’t? What if this is really how the rest of our lives is gonna go?”

What if there really is no way out?

“Then… Then I’ll be glad it wasn’t alone. I’m glad it was with you.”

In the safety of strong arms, a warm body beside him, Soap nods. In acceptance of their unknown fate, of their hopeless endeavour. An understanding, that they have to try anyway.

Because trying and failing is worth something too, if they get to have this small moment; so insignificant in larger scale.

And yet nothing means more to Soap, than the fingers drawing small loops on his skin.

He doesn’t know how long it takes for someone to take notice of their absence, but it becomes obvious that it has, when both Soap’s and Simon’s phones start buzzing with no end.

Soap pulls away first, after several minutes of gearing himself up to it. Doesn’t make the jarring shift any easier. He leans over Ghost to grab his phone from the bedside table, and cringes when he sees the number of missed calls from Gaz and Price.

His phone rings again, and he swipes a finger to answer, “he’s still not picking up- Soap?!” Gaz’s voice becomes louder, as if he put the phone back near his mouth, “where the fuck were you?! I’ve tried calling you all day mate!”

“Uh- Phone was on mute, sorry.” he mumbles.

Soap winces a little at the answering sigh from Gaz, “...alright. You solid?”

He doesn’t know why that innocent question made tears well up in his eyes. Soap quickly wipes them away, not fast enough for Ghost to miss, though. “Aye, Ah’m good.”

Soap can tell from Kyle’s voice he’s not entirely convinced, “good. Wanna come torture the recruits with me?”

He smiles softly, closing his eyes, “yeah, think I’d like that right about now.”

Gaz laughs a little, “I’ll see you on the training grounds?”

“See ye.”

Soap tosses the phone on the bed, scrubbing his face. He looks up at Simon, who stayed close for the entire call, “what’s on the table for us today? Are we gonna tell ‘em after training-”

“Take the day off, Johnny. You need it.” Simon gets up with a groan, stretching his back and reaching for his mask. Soap stops him with a gentle hand on his wrist.

“Ye need it too. Come with me.”

Simon’s brown eyes turn a honeyed color in the bright morning light, “...alright.”

It’s been a while since Soap had what almost felt like a normal day, acting like tomorrow will come. Betting on who could come up with the weirdest exercises with Ghost and Gaz was more fun than anything he’s done since entering the loop, shooting the shit with each other and trying not to crack up when the recruits would look at them with bewildered eyes before hurrying to follow their orders.

In the afternoon, they went back to the common room, Gaz inviting them to watch the football match with him. Despite knowing Scotland will lose, Soap agreed, and they even managed to drag Price to sit with them.

And at that moment, Gaz throwing sunflower seeds at the screen, Price confiscating the bowl with a wide smile on his lips, and Ghost’s thigh pressed to his, eyes mirthful, Soap realized something.

He wants to have more days like these. Ones where he can just exist with his team, his friends, the people he holds most dear in the entire world. 

At about 2100, Gaz and Price say their goodbyes, leaving Soap and Ghost by themselves, TV off and the rest of the room silent. As the clock ticks closer to the attack, it feels as if all of his muscles twist tighter, a coil ready to snap.

He didn’t notice his leg started bouncing, until Ghost stops it with a firm hand. “I can stop today right now, if you want.” he asks.

Soap’s breath hitches, and he’s instantly thrown back to the first day, shaky hands wrapped around his, pulling the trigger-

“No.” he blurts, “I- I don’t want ye to…”

Ghost scans his features, before nodding and standing up, offering a hand for Soap. He takes it, a bit flustered when Ghost doesn’t let go.

“We can leave, then.”

“Leave?”

“The base. For tonight.” Ghost offers, “I have a place in mind. Will take us about thirty to reach it.”

Soap frowns, guilt gnawing at his heart, “and the others…?”

Ghost lowers his gaze, “won’t remember a thing.”

He swallows his feelings down, nodding weakly. It hurts, to let them die and do nothing to stop it, but they both know it won’t matter by the end of the night.

They would’ve been dead a dozen times over if it did.

Ghost leads him outside, motioning him to stay low and quiet as they reach the northern side of the wall surrounding the base. The Lieutenant kicks at the fence, a section surprisingly loose, enough for them to crawl out and into the grassy hills outside. Soap sends him a look, to which Ghost just shrugs and says, “I’ll report it when we reach tomorrow.”

When, he notes. Not if.

He continues walking beside him, his figure almost melting into the night skies, save for the bone-white skull mask he grew to love.

A gale brushes upon them, the tall grass and bushes sway along with it. It’s… peaceful.

Until a far away explosion rattles the earth.

Soap freezes, hand pulling on Ghost’s. He knows his eyes must be desperate, when they meet his.

Ghost delicately untangles their fingers, to instead wrap a supporting arm around his shoulders. He leans in to whisper, “just a little more, Johnny.”

It’s odd, how those arms can instantly make Soap feel safer, that voice guiding his mind away from base, to a little bubble of their own.

They walk up a small hill, where at its top stands a single, ancient looking tree. Soap marvels at the place, the fact that somewhere like this exists so near to their base, oblivious to the horrors of their endless deaths.

Ghost sits down, ignoring the crunch of dry grass beneath him, and lays back to stare up at the stars. Soap, as always, follows.

The sky seems endless this way, like his tether to the ground can break with a small tug. Stars shine brightly across the darkness, tiny specks that are still so beautiful despite being so far away.

Soap turns his head to look at Ghost, those brown eyes almost black now, reflecting the universe back at him. It makes something hurt in his chest, reminds him just how much he has to lose, if he chooses to give up.

And Soap finds he really, truly, doesn’t want to give up. If only to see the stars again, feel a cooling wind against his skin again, laugh with Gaz and get a pat on the back from Price, lay back and watch colors swirl in Ghost’s, Simon’s, eyes.

“I want to try again, tomorrow.” Soap whispers, watches the moment Ghost processes the words, “and the day after that, and after that, until we reach an end. Whatever it may be.”

It brings him a significant amount of joy, that he has learned to tell when Ghost smiles by now, “whatever it may be.” he repeats.

Ghost’s wristwatch beeps three times, and Soap stares at it as he brings it closer to his face to read.

“Two minutes to midnight.” he informs.

Soap sighs, wishing the day wouldn’t have to end so soon, and yet also eager to get up and fight, “I’ll see ye in a few, LT?”

Ghost drops his arm, nodding resolutely, “always, Johnny.”

The stars melt into the void as they stare into each other’s eyes. 

A new day greets Soap, as it always does. This time, however, it feels different.

Soap gets out of bed, diligently dressing up, before a knock sounds on his door. Without opening, he knows whose behind it, and asks with a smile, “did ye ran outta bed today, Simon?”

“You’re just slow, Soap.” a muffled answer comes back, making him smile wider.

He unlocked the door, taking in the sight of Ghost. Same dark clothes he wears every single day (even before the loop, if he’s being honest), but the look in his eyes…

Seems like they both needed yesterday.

“Ready to talk with Price and Gaz?” Ghost motions with his head towards the hallway.

Soap cracks his knuckles, “let’s get teh work.”

Five minutes to power shutdown. The watchtower above him has been cleared, Price’s orders to the soldiers doing their work. Soap finishes planting the last of the charges, nerves somewhat settled by the fact he knows this part will work. There is a comfort in knowing exactly how a mission will go, for once. Well, this part at least.

“Got an eye on you, Johnny.” a low voice murmurs to him through their comms. Soap huffs fondly, sparing a moment to glance back at the base, searching for a sniper glint.

He smirks when he finds it, knows Ghost can read his expression with the scope he’s using, “only one? I’m offended, LT. Don’t think I deserve your full attention?”

“Think you’ve earned it?”

Soap makes a show of thinking over it, “hmm… What if I say yes?”

“Then I’d say you’re right, Sergeant.” Ghost radios back with a warmer tone. “Remember your promise?”

“Of course.”

A promise to try. A swear to fight. A vow to live.

“This is Price, me and Gaz are in position, what’s your status?”

“Explosives are set, in position.” Soap answers.

“Two minutes to power shutoff.” Ghost warns. Soap clenches his jaw and backs away, detonator in hand.

Their plan for this loop is similar to the last one, with Soap dropping the watchtower on the infiltrating group, while Gaz and Price take point at the barracks. They made minor adjustments to positions, using the intel they’ve collected in the previous run, and one major change.

This time, Soap has Ghost to watch his six.

He’s been through this so many times, he didn’t need to watch the clock to know exactly when the lights will go out.

The darkness makes his breaths quicken a tad, but Soap grinds his teeth and pulls the reins on his own mind. Even if they fail today, they have an infinite amount of tries.

He takes a sharp inhale, covers his eyes, and detonates. The familiar sound of dozens of tonnes of metal crashing down is like music to his ears, and Soap opens his eyes to watch bullets flash through the night sky. Ghost picking off the remaining hostiles.

“How was the light show?”

Ghost sighs, putting on an air of irritation that Soap has learned to see past, “splendid, Soap. I’d put a picture of it right next to the definition of a pyromaniac in the dictionary.”

Soap begins running towards the barracks, knowing he has mere minutes before the hostiles reach it, “ye say the sweetest things teh me, Simon.”

“Wasn’t a compliment.” Ghost mutters, “I’ll meet you on ground in ten.”

“Copy.”

The barracks building fast approaches, dark windows flaring every few seconds with gunfire. He’s about to rush in when a hand wraps around his nape. Soap reaches for a knife he slipped up his sleeve when he hears a gravelly voice near his ear.

“Thought we’re not runnin’ off on our own anymore.” Ghost murmurs, scolding him lightly.

Soap sags against his grip. “Attacker doesn’t get me for another thirty-four minutes.”

“Don’t care. Haven’t been through this version of the loop enough times to know where every hostile is.” Ghost guides him to the direction of the side door, “be careful.”

Soap nods, skin feeling cold when Ghost releases him. They make their way down dark hallways, NVGs on, echoing bullets getting closer and closer. Someone runs out of a door to their left, and Soap has mere seconds to figure out which side they’re on.

Tactical vest, rifle in hand, ready for combat. A clean shot through the head and the man is dead.

The air around them is charged, his lungs almost choking on the tension, but his hands are steady on his gun, as years of military training drilled into him.

“Soap, Ghost, we’re getting overrun in block B! Where the fuck are you?” Gaz pants into his mic, choppy gunfire slips around his voice.

“Clearing block A, but Ah can come yer way-”

Ghost cuts him off, “we are on our way to you, Garrick. Don’t take unnecessary risks.”

“Copy.” Gaz clicks off. Wordlessly, they start running.

So many things can go wrong, finish their loop early, make them fail. Before, it felt like the entire world was fighting against them, the very fabric of time and space coiling around their throats and smothering their lungs.

Ghost sprints ahead of him, a long blade in hand as he opens the door to block B, and the knife gets buried into an unlucky hostile.

Things are different now. Soap lines a shot with another bastard trying to flank Ghost. The Lieutenant turns to give him a thankful nod.

They have to be different.

Block B houses the 141, among other squads. Usually at this hour, its hallways are empty and quiet, the occasional sleepless soldier drifting towards the common room.

Tonight, barracks have been turned into cover for both friendlies and hostiles, every uncleared room a possible hiding hole for a henchman waiting to blow a hole in their face. Soap and Ghost find the rest of their taskforce in the middle of shooting enemies running between the rooms.

“What’s the situation, Captain?” Ghost crouches down beside Price, peppering a few shots when hostiles pop their head to return fire.

Price grunts, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, “fuckers keep crawling out like roaches up ahead, we can’t push forward like this.” He glances at Soap, “got anything left that we can use, Sergeant?”

Soap mentally runs through the supplies he gathered this afternoon from the armory, “got five Semtex, three frags, a drill charge-”

“Give me a Semtex.” Ghost orders, lifting a hand without looking away from the target-rich hallway. Soap places it in his palm, curiously watching him throw it on a hostile rolling to cover. The man had too much momentum to stop his slide, and he shouts when he realizes he’s just brought a grenade into a room full of his teammates.

A loud explosion, and Soap whistles lowly, “feckin’ ruthless, Ghost.”

The 141, along with the rest of the soldiers who have been sleeping in block B until the base was invaded, use the break in the enemy’s defences to push forward, overwhelming the henchmen and making them scramble back to avoid death.

As they fight, Soap notices a group of hostiles around a single man, seemingly protecting him. When one of them moves, he catches a glimpse of their face, and his blood boils over.

Anthony Simmons, in the flesh. The man responsible for the attack.

Soap knows, somewhere in the recesses of his mind, that Simmons isn’t the one responsible for the existence of the time loop. He had no way of knowing, that attacking the base will cause time to break around Soap and Ghost.

But he has watched his teammates, his friends, get shot by his men countless times, felt unimaginable pain, helpless when that pain broke him, broke Simon.

Soap knows it’s not his fault, but fuck if he’s going to let him walk out of this intact.

Before anyone can stop him, he breaks into a run after Simmons. The man has lost more of his henchmen at this point, his little circle of soldiers dead at his feet, so he fled deeper into the building. The rest of his men, however, still stand between Soap and Simmons.

Soap pulls out his knife again, this time intending to use it, slipping under thick arms that try to wrestle him down, and stabbing his opponent in the ribs. He quickly slits his throat and continues the chase.

Voices ring out of his comms, a mix of concern and anger from his squad. Soap plans to ignore them, until one stands out.

“You fucking promised me Johnny, don’t do this to me!”

His steps falter, and after a beat he decides to answer, “Ah’m going to end this, once and for all. In pursuit of Anthony Simmons.”

“You’re going after Simmons alone?!” Gaz grunts, clearly in the middle of fending off an enemy.

Ghost’s voice is dripping with rage, “is he really worth killing yourself for, Sergeant?”

Soap can tell, behind that furious voice, that Simon is scared. That anger for Ghost is a smokescreen for anything else.

…They are the same in that regard, aren’t they?

“No.” Soap realizes, “it’s not.”

The comms are quiet. He scans the way ahead, understands that Simmons has no other place to hide besides…

“He’s in our common room. Waiting for backup around the corner.”

“...Copy. We’re five minutes out.” Ghost sighs, previous anger fizzling out.

Soap stares ahead, at the familiar path to their common room, now dark and lifeless. It’s a path he never walks alone, and today will not be any different.

His team arrives one minute early, bloody and bruised and worse for wear, but alive, so blessedly, wonderfully, alive.

“Gaz, keep an eye on our six, Ghost, Soap, with me.” Price commands, back straight and weapon at the ready.

They take measured steps to their common room, small noises and grunts like gunshots in the silence. Simmons sounds agitated, whispering orders into his radio. He clearly didn’t expect anyone to follow him, evident by the door he left wide open, and the fact he left his gun to lean against the wall.

Ghost walks ahead, footsteps perfectly noiseless, slinking behind their target like a predator circling its prey.

Soap cringes inwardly when his boot connects with the end of the couch, a small thunk alerting Simmons. As unprepared as the man was, he still noticed, head perking up and hand dropping from his comms.

Shite.

Simmons gets up with a sudden flurry of movement, hands instantly on his weapon. Ghost attempts to apprehend him, but the man starts shooting wildly all around him while screaming, “not gonna let you 141 rats fuck with me again!”

Simmons swings his gun to his left, and Soap watches in horror as the barrel lines with Price’s heart. He makes the split second decision to tackle the Captain.

They both grunt when they hit the floor, Soap feeling hot pain spread through his shoulder. Bastard got lucky.

Ghost takes the opening to Simmons’ right, and Soap barely sees the meager light in the room reflect onto his blade before it slices into Simmons’ neck. Ghost twists it once, and pulls it out, allowing the body to fall.

Gaz rushes into the room at that moment, spotting Ghost looming over their target’s dead body, and him and Price still on the floor, “fuck- Captain, Soap, are you broken?”

Soap pushes off Price with a groan, the Captain answering, “negative. Soap, what’s your status?”

Price places a hand on his shoulder, one that would be comforting in any other scenario, but in this one makes him yelp in pain. Price pulls his hand away, Gaz crouching down beside him to inspect the gunshot wound, “shit, Soap’s been hit.”

Soap’s mind transports him to the last loop, to Ghost’s unshakeable decision to reset before he could suffer any longer, and blurts out, “jus’ a gunshot wound teh the shoulder. I’ll live.”

He turns his head back to Ghost, the giant man standing above him like a fucked up guardian angel.

The power chooses at that moment to come back on, blinding all of them. They flip their NVGs up, rubbing their eyes and groaning, when Soap notices Ghost’s watch beeping. They make eye contact.

“Two minutes to midnight.” Soap whispers. He reaches with his uninjured hand to Simon’s, making him sit back on his haunches. He brings the watch closer to his face, senses Gaz and Price huddle around it as well.

Four pairs of eyes watch the little clock tick closer and closer to midnight with bated breath. Thoughts begin to whirl in his head, that perhaps this wasn’t the answer, that there is just no possible solution to this wretched loop.

2359…

0000.

Midnight. Soap looks up, sees his shock reflected in Ghost’s dark eyes.

They’re free.

The 141’s common room might be Soap’s favorite. It’s nothing fancy, a couple of ratty couches, a kitchenette. No TV, and near-constant mold under the sink.

Soap wouldn’t have it any other way. Sitting here, chatting with Gaz about nothing and everything, laughing when Price acts in a way that reminds all of them how old he is, feeling Simon’s arms wrapped around him, Soap wouldn’t change a thing.

Well… one thing has changed. A clock has been mounted on the wall, along with a calendar.

Time continues moving. Soap knows his future will hold unmeasurable amounts of pain, that his end might be closer than he thinks it is. That their little common room will eventually fall silent, for good. But Soap also knows he will get to have more days like these, memories of incomparable comfort and soul-deep calm. Moments that are worth the pain.

And it’s that knowledge, that makes hope bloom in his chest. In his heart, and in deep brown eyes, that now crescent for him more than Soap could’ve ever wished for.

[basicallyaturtle]

never been part of a tag game, sounds really fun! tagged by dear Lanvender, @khan-crete

Do you make your bed? A freshly decrumbed, stuffed animal arranged and dirty clothes removed bed feels great. How often do I do this? We mustn't ask (like once or twice a month) that's all making the bed entails for me, I just have a fitted then normal sheet and blankets

Favorite Number? 4 4 4 4 4! I've loved four my entire life she is like a goddess to me. 2+2 2*2 2^2, divides into halves twice. can only compete with sixteen, whose status and 2^4 and 4^2 is nice, but not as symmetric. 37 and 73 have a place in my heart as the 12th and 21st primes, but not a large place compared to 4

What's your job? What do I get paid for? undergrad lab TA, what do I do? grad research in low energy nuclear physics

If you could go back to school, would you? In school technically still. Would I rewind time to experience school again? highschool no college yes. would I go back for another college degree? I could be convinced if it would be cheap and unobtrusive to my current schooling. Was always torn between physics and linguistics. I made the right choice but I always wonder what if.

Can you Parallel Park? I have done it, on the driving test, like four or five years ago. I think I could do it again, but not too confident

Do you think Aliens are real? Eh, probably in a 'the observable universe 9.3e+9 ly across, it must have happened more than once' kinda way, but not in a 'they've been feeding us tech for thousands of years or are visiting us' kinda way.

Can you drive a manual car? Never tried, hubris tell me yes, anxiety with even normal cars tells me I'd probably fuck up the transmission while trying to leave the driveway. gonna say yeag

Guilty Pleasure? I think like cheesy childhood disney live action movies?, generally I'm pretty full chested about the things I enjoy

Favorite Type of Music? yeah, hard, a lot of vocaloid, which isn't reallly a genre, a lot of edm genres from like old school monstercat, a lot of jrock by way of anime OP's of show's I've never watched then finding other songs by those artists. some rock music though that genre is also extremely expansive and I'm not sure how I'd categorize a lot of it. Generally my music consumption consists of a group of maybe five songs completely unrelated on repeat for months at a time and genre is not a huge factor in that

Do you like puzzles? twisty puzzles like rubik's cube type puzzles are really fun working, towards doing a 3x3 blindfolded but challenging, I used to do jigsaw's with my mom but over the course of a very long time because we'd get frustrated. crosswords, but I'm no good at them

Favorite Childhood Sport? Soccerrrr. Wish I'd stayed with it, but there were only a couple more years before there wasn't a league for my age group anyway, been trying to get back into it recreationally

Do you talk to yourself? I do, but as if I'm talking to someone else. I prefer not to do it because I'm not content with my voice atm, but I find myself doing it a lot especially when getting stuck on research stuff trying to talk it out or I will say a comment to someone I disagree with outloud rather than typing it and posting it. A lot of this is to my reflection which is probably part of the reason it feels like someone else lol

Tea or Coffee? tea all the way. drank iced sweet black tea my entire childhood and started drinking it hot with milk in college. I was the kind of person that disliking coffee was a sort of pillar of my tastes, but then a few years ago made it with like half milk and a lot of sugar and like it, lotta people wouldn't call that coffee, but eh.

First thing you wanted to be when you grew up? The actual first thing was everything. I would amalgamate like all the stereotypes of things kids want to be into one so a firefighter-astronaut-whatever else. When I got a better sense of my interests, inventor, so I guess like product designer, but what that meant to me was I got to sit around and think of neat gadgets and items then figure out how to make them like freeze ray, time machine, clone gun, that kind of thing lol. the first practical idea of a job I wanted was theoretical physicist in like middle school, which I kinda am now so success I guess

What Movies do you Adore? not much of a movie person, but like to watch movies other people are interested in with them, love castle in the sky, LOTR, howl's moving castle, your name, probably others in those categories I don't know about yet or have forgotten and I have a strong soft spot for childhood halloween movies like twitches and halloweentown

I'm curious what @arc-archernar and @charyou-tree have got to say if they'd like to, and anyone else that wants to participate!

[theglamorousferal]

Persephone's Binding Part 12

Hardcover/Anger Management ship Sacrificial Bride au

AO3 Prompt Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

"Ellie!" Danny shouted and then sped towards the source of the surprise attack. The person he tackled had the sides of her head shaved with a short mohawk the same snow white as Danny. She had four black studs in one ear and three studs on the other side that were teal, orange and pink. She was in black and white winter gear that had studs and spikes on her coat, gloves and boots.

She giggled as they roughhoused in the snow. She was about the same height and build as Danny and that prompted Jason to ask Jazz. "She's the clone sister, right?" He turned to where she had been standing to find she wasn't there. He glanced around to see her standing to the side speaking with Frostbite in quiet voices. Frostbite's face was full of concern. He handed her a bag, set his hand on her shoulder, then turned to go back to the exam room.

Jason watched as Jazz's shoulders rose and then slumped. He approached her, "Jazz?" Her shoulders hiked to her ears. "Is everything okay?" She turned around quickly and she had schooled her expression to seem casual and at ease.

"Nothing you need to worry about. Just Regent stuff. Did I hear Ellie?" She sped past him, securing the bag on her shoulder. He narrowed his eyes, but let the issue drop.

"Yeah, is she the clone sister you were telling me about?"

"Yes she is! She must be here for her shots, it's been roughly three months I think." She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted in the direction of the flying figures, "Hey, big sis wants a hug you gremlins!" She handed Jason the bag before she was tackled into the snow by two black and white blurs. Laughter broke from the pile of figures and after a few moments Jazz's hand shot out from the mass.

Jason helped her stand leading to them suddenly standing very close to each other and Jason looking up into those perfect teal eyes with flecks of luminescent gold swirling in them. Some of her hair began to float about them before twin coughs startled them both enough that they stepped away from each other.

Jason glared at Danny who put on a smile of innocence perfectly mimicked by Ellie. Jazz brushed the snow from her coat before reaching out for the bag. "So, Ellie, are you planning on staying for a little while before heading out again? Also where's Dante?"

Ellie blew the hair that had come loose from her mohawk out of her eyes before responding. "Yeah, I was planning on sticking around for at least a week since I heard about this whole 'sacrifice' thing." She seemed to bare her teeth at Jason before rolling her eyes. "As for Dante? Him and Skulker bet each other that they could break outta Walker's first a few days ago, I give them another day or two before we see them at all."

"Cool, so Ellie, this is Jason, he's the one who got sacrificed, we are still doing some research on what ritual was used so we can figure out how to break it so we can send him back to his home dimension."

Danny's innocent smile turned to a smirk. "I mean, we still gotta figure out which one he's from to be able to send him back. That could take a while. I say we make the most of it. Once Johnny's done with your bike, we'll do a little tour of my favorite places in the Realms. Probably can get that shard that's messing with your core taken care of too. I'm sure that Pandora would be willing to remove it if you agree to spar with her and introduce her to the Amazons you know once we find where you're from."

Jason's glare had changed to a smile, he turned to Jazz. "Maybe we can take a day and go to the Boardwalk?"

She had a wistful look on her face. "I wish I could, but duty calls I'm afraid. Which reminds me, we should head out soon. Ellie, are you coming with us?"

"Yeah, Frostbite cleared me this morning, I was just waiting for y'all to show up. I already put my backpack in the Speeder."

Jazz smiled. "Great, let's head out then, I have something that I need to take care of when we get back."

The other three watched as she marched herself towards the ship. They shared a look. Danny looked away first, biting his lip as he followed his sister. Jason and Ellie traded confused and alarmed faces before following.

The return trip was spent discussing places that Danny and Ellie wanted to show Jason while Jazz slowly reduced her white-knuckled grip in the wheel.

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

okay so we know that if reader tried to be creepy towards yves about sexual stuff he would cut them off (and/or traumatize them if they went even further).

but what would happen if yves set up their perfect meet-cute, they started dating, and after a while reader tried to initiate sex. and yves is like oh, no. explains his whole thing about only doing it like once a month, and on his terms. and reader is like oh, okay! i totally respect that!

and then the next day, they sit down for dinner, and reader essentially tries to break up with him? basically just saying i don’t think this will work out between us, i’d really like a partner who i have very regular sex with even if not every day, but you’re really cool and really nice and i’d love to stay friends :)

how would yves react? i feel like he wouldn’t traumatize them because they didn’t actually do anything wrong, but he’s also been super clear about being monogamous so he doesn’t seem like the type to allow reader to pursue a sort of fwb relationship on the side? that is, if reader even wanted to have a side relationship just for sex, they might only want one relationship and need it to be both romantic and regularly sexual.

another thought that’s sort of tied to this: what if yves was dating a reader who, because they couldn’t successfully initiate sex and were told not to try ever again the one time they tried, and because yves so rarely initiates sex, started feeling really self conscious and like they aren’t worth having sex with? like even with yves being such a sweetheart and loving on them all the time, the lack of sex really gets to them and makes them feel undesirable?

sincerely, a very shy anon (who is Constantly Horny and also gets insecure)

Tw: sexual stuff, drugging

The thing is, Yves would have already known that you're seeking for a more sexually fulfilling relationship with someone. It depends on your personality, is it a must that you have to touch him in ways he wished you wouldn't? Is it a must for Yves to touch you in ways he rather not? Even with his 'interventions'? Then, Yves has no choice but to let go of the idea of being your romantic partner. It doesn't mean he will abandon you, he will assume the role of a smothering monster-in-law.

However, if he already knows the ins and outs of your body, the limits of how much he could drug you without any adverse effects, Yves wouldn't mention about sex at all. He would take it slow, letting the relationship progress until you're comfortable to discuss such proclivities or attempt to make the first move. The longer you're with Yves, the more you feel loved and spoiled by his riches and acts of services.

But... By the time you would usually feel undesirable due to a lack of sexual initiation from Yves, you would find yourself saying "yuck" to anything related to genitalia. Perhaps even feeling glad that Yves didn't see you in that light yet, dreading the day where you have to say no to him.

Hell, maybe you wouldn't even care to initiate it either, you somehow lost interest in something you used to crave badly and you don't know why. The idea of it feels... Dull, boring and maybe overbearing, it's like eating the same meal repeatedly to the point it makes you nauseous thinking about it. The thought of being horny and getting off your bed to work for that orgasm makes you go "Ugh, do I have to?"

Assuming that you masturbate to alleviate your frustrations, you suddenly find that your stimulating toys would just not do it for you anymore. Neither would your fingers, nor pornography. You just feel... Nothing. No tingles, no drive and no desire to chase that high you were once addicted to. It feels tedious as if you're doing a soul sucking chore, you would rather cuddle with Yves instead, fully clothed too with each other's hands away from the major erogenous zones.

You wouldn't notice it. The change would be so gradual that you wouldn't realize your favorite sex toy is collecting a layer of dust under your bed. The idea of Yves going anywhere near your crotch never crossed your mind, why would it? You're not interested in doing the tango with him and neither is he, and you would like to keep it that way in order to avoid the awkwardness of rejection.

You never visited your favourite erotic sites anymore and you're not yearning for that excitement, you have lost a core part of yourself and you are none the wiser.

And that's how Yves likes it; to let yourself be pampered by him in every way except one. What you don't know will never hurt you.

[luvxxriki]

could i req ex!riki meeting reader again after a while but they still love eo n stuff 😶🙏

SCREAMING AND CRYING.

pairing - ex!riki x fem!reader

genre - angst, past lovers, exes to lovers (?)

warnings - heavy heart break, crying, slight cursing, mentions of depression, he's kinda barely toxic but reader doesn't care

wc - 1.3k

notes - tysm for the req i literally love this one🫶 this is kinda my first time writing real angst, so i hope you like it🫡🩷

Finally, it was your first day of your last year of highschool. You walked into the room and sat at a random desk while you waited for the teacher to show up. Looking around the room, you noticed a few people you’ve had classes with before, so you figured it would be easy enough to talk to them throughout the year.

After a while the bell rang and the teacher arrived. She greeted the class and explained some ground rules, as well as assigning everyone seats. 

“Yn… looks like you’re sitting alone for now, your seatmate isn’t here. Sit at that table in the back corner, near the window” She smiled and pointed at the table for two. You walked over and placed your bag on the empty chair since your seatmate wasn’t here, which you honestly didn’t mind.

While your teacher continued explaining the course, there was a knock on the door. When she opened it your face immediately flushed red and your heart started beating a million miles an hour. You could feel your body heat up as you started to panic, doing your best to conceal yourself at the back of the class.

“You must be Nishimura Riki, I had your older sister!” Your teacher smiled once again. “Your seat is right in the back, near yn”

“Thank you” He said politely. His voice hadn’t changed one bit, still attractively arrogant yet somehow still playful. 

You moved your bag off the seat so he could sit, and looked out the window. It didn’t matter how long it had been, a day, a month. Almost five months now. You couldn’t face him, not yet.

“Ok, your first assignment is to get to know your seatmate. Talk to each other for a while, and if I notice you aren’t participating it’s a write up” The teacher announced. Your heart sank to the floor and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. 

“Yn…” Riki started. You could feel him looking at you. 

“Yea?” You barely whispered loud enough for him to hear, and it didn’t help that you were still facing away from him.

“Look at me. We have to at least pretend to do the assignment”

You turned slightly, just enough to make it look like you guys were talking. You both stayed silent for a while, until RIki sighed and broke it.

“How are you?”

“I’m good. You?”

“Been better, but I’m good” 

You cringed internally at how dry and awkward you both were being, but also because this was the first time you guys talked since he broke up with you back in April.

It was a cloudy day, one of your favorites. You had just finished classes and your long-term boyfriend texted you to meet him outside of the school, right near the big tree you guys always met near. The spot where he confessed to you. 

You walked happily to the spot, a content smile plastered on your face as you couldn’t wait to finally see your comfort person after a tiring day. 

“Riki!” You called out for him. When he looked up at you, you could tell something was off. You ignored it though, assuming he just had a hard day.

“yn…I need to talk to you”

Your smile faltered but you nodded, signaling for him to continue.

“We’re breaking up”

“What?” You felt a pain in your chest, like he just drove a knife through your heart. The more he spoke, the further it went in.

“We’re breaking up. I can’t be with you anymore” He sounded cold, like he didn’t even care and just wanted to get this over with.

“Riki…why?” You asked. You swallowed the lump in your throat and wished that you would be shaken awake from this nightmare, with your boyfriend by your side to hug you and tell you it was all a bad dream.

“I just said it!” He raised his voice. You took a step back and your first tear fell down your flushed cheeks. He had never raised his voice at you, never did anything to hurt you. So this? This was terrifying.

“I…I’m sorry” You stuttered out.

“Whatever…Bye” He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked off, not even sparing you another glance.

After that day, you never talked to him. You were too scared to text him, and did anything and everything to avoid even seeing him or his friends at school.

“That's good” You swallowed thickly, the painful memory making it hard to concentrate on what he was saying. He went quiet for another few minutes, then placed his hand on top of yours which was resting on the table.

“Look at me…” He said softly. You hesitated, but finally looked up at him.

To your surprise, his cheeks were just as red as yours, if not worse. His eyes looked like they were trying to tell you something, they looked sad and apologetic, like he really regretted what happened. It took everything in you to not break down right there, to not cry over something you’ve wasted thousands of tears on already.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry” He whispered. His thumb caressed the back of your hand with the same gentleness he would use back when you would reach for his hands when you would get nervous.You could tell how hard he swallowed by how his adams apple bobbed up and down.

You continued looking at him, your eyes tearing up and the lump in your throat getting bigger by the second. 

“I’m sorry” He repeated. His voice came out as a broken whisper, the complete opposite of the confident and teasing way he would speak to you when he chased your adoration.

“Why did you do it?” You asked tearfully.

“I’m so sorry baby, I really am” He repeated again. The old pet name fell from his lips so naturally, he barely realized he did it until he heard the broken sob escape your lips. You didn’t even cry this much when he first broke up with you, and it was breaking him the more he realized how bad he had hurt you.

“I was just having a really hard time, I was really stressed. Between school, soccer, my parents, and everything going on, I didn’t want all that shit to affect you. I didn’t…I didn’t wanna hurt you, ok? That’s the last thing I wanted, and I thought it would hurt you less if we just broke up. I’m sorry” He explained. 

He reached his hand out to wipe your tears as he spoke, the few tears that fell from his own eyes going completely unnoticed byy him.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me? I loved you so much, I would’ve helped you” You sobbed.

“I know you would’ve. I should’ve just told you, but I didn’t want you to worry about me baby, you had your own things and I didn’t wanna make it worse-”

“You wouldn’t have made it worse Riki, you were the one thing that made all that stuff better! I would’ve done anything to help you, I don’t care, as long as you’re ok”

He nodded and quickly wiped his eyes as he finally realized the salty tears dripping onto his cheeks.

“I know. I was just in a really bad place, and leaving you made that so much worse baby, I really need you” He stroked her damp cheek with his free hand.

“Me too. It was so hard without you” She finally looked him in the eyes, her own bloodshot ones still stinging with tears.

“I still love you baby…”

“I love you too”

[starry-nights-garden]

NCT Dream as the Demon hiding under your bed

✧ NCT Dream all members x gn!reader ✧ genre: humor, crack, fluff ✧ warnings: none

Mark:

the confused demon

does not know why he is here

one day wakes up under your bed, hits his head, crawls out and startles the shit out of you

he’s as clueless as you are as to what he’s doing here

laughs awkwardly, attempts to introduce himself and keeps switching back and forth between english and korean

????

maybe the awkwardness is the reason why you’re not scared of him when he explains that he’s a demon

“So I guess I’m supposed to take your soul?” - he figures someday

you just shrug it off and agree because ever since he suddenly moved in with you you two have become pretty good friends

also he’s very cute and seems clueless as to how a demon is supposed to behave, so you secretly don’t think he’d ever be able to take your soul

plus, you know he’s taken a liking to you and his soft spot for you won’t allow him to harm you

really you kinda just chill in your room all day and watch series or play games??

he’s more like a brother you get along with super well than a demon trying to kill you

however, when other demons find out that he’s not doing his job, they decide to do it for him

you can trust him to always hide you well and keep the other demons at a distance

he will do everything he can to protect you from them

Renjun:

the annoyed demon

has been living as a demon for so long that he’s kinda getting tired of it tbh

especially if he ends up choosing a person who doesn’t give up their soul so easily

unfortunately, you are one of those people

so when he realizes this, he just begins to dread the whole thing aksdjfölka

however, he takes his duties as a demon very seriously, and his pride won’t just let him ditch you - he has to see this through until the end

when he finally reveals himself to you, because you just will not give him any kind of opening to steal your soul otherwise, you are understandably scared at first

however, when he offers to grant you your biggest wish, you start to wonder if it’s worth making a deal with him, because surely he must want something in return?

you stay suspicious and start asking questions to figure out what exactly he is

and in the end this discussion is being dragged out so much that he simply lets out a deep sigh and admits everything lol

but since he already promised to grant you a wish, you decide to trick him and wish for him to be your loyal servant until the end of time

which, in your dictionary means he shouldn’t be able to take your soul in the first place, and in his eyes it means that he might still have a chance

so here he is, your own personal servant, who you also just made a pact with

you make him do stuff like bringing you snacks or doing your work for you at first, receiving death glares in exchange

however, at some point a weird tom-and-jerry like friendship starts between you two, and you actually start enjoying spending time with each other

he keeps joking about how he will simply murder you and take your soul while you’re sleeping at night whenever you annoy him in the slightest

but he says that with such an adoring smile on his face ???? 

technically he shouldn’t be able to do that, as it goes against what you wished for - he’s still Renjun tho, so you can never be too sure…

and no matter how well you get along in the end, he will still end up taking your soul one day

Jeno:

the soft-hearted demon

one night you wake up to him, looking all scary and threatening, on top of you, pinning you down to your bed so you can’t escape

you’re obviously scared and don’t know what’s going on

you try to scream, but no sound will come out when he covers your mouth with one hand

and then suddenly you see his features become very soft and the tension leaving his body

has a mental breakdown in the corner of your room because your eyes were wide with fear and you looked so scared and he just isn’t cut out for this whole demon lifestyle

disappears after that but realizes he’ll get in trouble if you reveal his identity, now that you know his face

so he returns one day, politely knocking on your window pane until you let him in :’)

you’re obviously suspicious and scared at first, but then he starts incoherently rambling about his worries

you understand nothing

he panics and eventually leaves again?????

he really is NOT cut out for this…

eventually he HAS to return to you though, because he’s in danger, and you’re also now in danger of being found by other demons

explains himself a bit more coherently this time and out of guilt he offers to protect you???

wasn’t he supposed to take your soul instead???

you’re not sure how this bundle of soft feelings and internal panic is supposed to protect you, but he also refuses to leave with a huge pout on his lips so you decide to let him stay for now

when other demons start swarming your home a bit after that, he makes sure to ward off every single one of them

you grow closer and you come to trust him eventually, feeling reassured that he can protect you

Haechan:

the troublesome demon

technically pretty smart, because he takes the time to observe and get to know about you first

however, when you can’t sleep and keep rolling around in bed and getting up and lying down again several times the very night he was planning on surprising you in your sleep to take your soul, he loses all patience

lets out a huge groan eventually and crawls out from under your bed, wordlessly goes to the kitchen to get chips while mumbling something about needing snacks to calm down, and then sits next to you to watch you fall asleep

obviously NOW you can’t fall asleep because there’s a stranger in your bedroom??? eating your snacks???

he does not explain anything, he just sits there grinning to himself while snacking away

only when you scream in terror that you’re going to call the police, he gets up

“Whoa there, no need to go that far.”

explains that he’s just some apparition and you’re actually already sleeping and you’re just having this hyperrealistic dream to process some kind of hidden worry??

decides that he could just have a bit of fun with you before doing his work, so he crawls out from his hideaway every other night to chat with you

eventually he also convinces you to play games with him and to cook midnight snacks together

he originally made this all a part of his plan to get you to trust him but actually?? spending time with you??? is a lot of fun??

also maybe he’s developing a little crush on you and he can’t decide if that makes it more dreadful or more fun to take your soul later on

he ends up getting really attached to you and clings to you all the time

that is until one night, another demon comes to take your soul and he protects you, ending up explaining everything to you

becomes your personal guardian and gaming buddy after that

Jaemin:

the responsible demon

one day he simply appears and starts telling you what to do??

nags you to do your homework and teaches you how to do taxes

gets really annoying when you don’t do your chores

“I cannot have you live like this.”

lists 74385723 reasons why you should keep your house clean and take care of yourself (literally who askeddddd???)

threatens you to take your soul on the spot if you don’t do what he says aksjdflka

actually very caring and means well, but just cannot watch you procrastinate on stuff that needs to be done eventually

at this point he doesn’t feel like an intruder anymore, so you just accept that there’s this supernatural being somehow supporting you in getting your life together

he also doesn’t really give you the time to figure out that maybe keeping him around could potentially be dangerous to you

either way, you actually come to appreciate his efforts in motivating you, and as he too gets more used to you and takes a liking to you, his words become more gentle

that doesn’t mean he will let you slack off and procrastinate on things that are just stressing you out unnecessarily because you keep not doing them

also has weirdly specific household tips and tricks for you??

if you attempt to cut into your sleep time by staying up too late, he will literally pull you to your bed and not let you get up again until morning kjsdflkas

forces you into taking good care of yourself, and he’s somehow both the nicest and the most annoying being you know

but as a responsible demon, he still has to do his job of taking your soul eventually

however, there’s still some time until then; after all he has to make sure you’re eating three healthy meals a day and that your tax return is filled out correctly

Chenle:

the melancholic demon

tells you in detail about how life on earth was 800 years ago

you think you’re having a fever dream when someone suddenly emerges from under your bed and starts off a conversation with “You know, back in my days…”

dude, you’re like 20, what are you talking about???

really, he’s been wandering this world for hundreds of years, not aging physically due to him being a demon

and now he’s here to take your soul - he doesn’t literally tell you that though

instead, he starts openly explaining how he’s taken the souls of many other people and how you can’t escape him anyway, due to his experience and knowledge of the human mind

basically he’s explaining to you in the most chill and unfazed way possible that he’s about to kill you, while throwing in some memories here and there, feeling nostalgic

you’re in for a very long night, because this guy just won’t stop talking and sharing his wisdom, and at times it seems like he doesn’t even care if you’re listening or not

at some point asks if you happen to have a good bottle of wine at home??? kind of like a last supper he wants to have with you??

what is wrong with him

eventually you join in on the conversation and he finds what you’re saying so interesting that he takes an instant interest in you

maybe he won’t take your soul right away?

you somehow end up talking until sunrise, and to your surprise he simply crawls back under your bed and disappears? you feel even more like you just had a very long fever dream now

however, the following night he returns to talk to you again, claiming that he had so much fun and for as long as you manage to entertain him he will spare you

obviously you feel very pressured now, maybe even so pressured that you fail to find something to talk about at all

rest assured though, he’s been in this for long enough to not let any chance to enjoy the small things in life slip away, so he always helps you out in finding a topic for a conversation

Jisung:

the awkward demon

has no clue what he’s doing

like that villain who always explains his grand plan of evil to you before actually executing it, except make it very awkward and also there is no actual execution of the plan that follows

he’s a shy bean and who even ever thought he’d do well as an entity designed entirely to take people’s souls???

and it’s his first time taking someone’s soul too, so he’s just very anxious, and what if he embarrasses himself??? (like that’s the part he should be most worried about???)

anyway, he has a super-foolproof plan (at least he thinks it’s foolproof), which already fails at step one

so one night you’re lying in your bed, about to fall asleep, when you hear something rustling under your bed

you don’t think much of it, but when you hear the noise again you decide to get up and take a look

you turn on the lights and find a person hiding there in plain sight, eyes squinting because it’s too bright and holding a huge bag of sweets in his arms

he’s very dumbfounded

eventually he holds out the sweets to you and goes “Let me take your soul in exchange for these treats!”

you start screaming, because there is a complete stranger under your bed and how did he even get there??? so he finally jumps out, slamming his hand over your mouth

“Shh!! What if someone hears us or finds out I’m here?”

eventually changes his bribe into you shutting up about him in exchange for the sweets, and also slips up somewhere in between, revealing that he is - in fact - a demon

now he feels so guilty for inconveniencing you that he’s unable to take your soul

therefore he simply surprises you every night with a new supply of sweets

he still has a lot to learn, sigh…

[timmie15]

How would you rank the more major AC6 characters based on how much you like them?

hmmmmm i had to think about this a LOT since I love everyone..

All of them are so well written, even the minor characters imo

But when it comes to major characters.. hm

Not even sure honestly

Though, my opinions contain [spoilers] from the game!!

I'm a dirty Iguazu lover. He's such a great character holy hell. He may be a pathetic pos but he's relatable. He's so fueled with spite and hatred that he doesn't realise how powerful he actually is. He's a great pilot, but his inferiority complex and envy is what takes him down. Something that anyone could experience at one point in life. He's realistic, with flaws and all. He's not perfect and that's why I love him the most. A tragic character, but in his final moments he spills his true feelings of envy towards you, and honestly this made him grow on my heart.

Classically, I love Rusty. He's the total opposite of Iguazu. He seems chill and all. [Spoiler] But hell he's a great spy. In the mission when you had to collect data about him and you find out he's a RLF spy that gets in that situation where he has to eliminate his own people.. It broke my heart, but hell it's respectable. He's doing his best, but I'm sure his heart is heavy, doing these sacrifices for the greater good. He's skeptical of you too, which also is why I love him. He doesn't trust you easily, and thinks that you're still a threat because nobody knows what's your next move. One day you may help someone, while the other day you could backstab only for money. But later, in the Liberation ending.. he finally trusts you, since you have the same goals.. and he remains your buddy. When you have the Fires of Raven route, the fight made me cry. It felt heavy to fight him, even in that moment he doesn't want to kill you, even if he must. It could have ended differently. Somehow he still had trust in you, and probably he feels bad that even you, like the corps, are a threat to Rubicon. He's a true guy and sacrifices to save the many, yet his end is tragic.

I adore Ayre too. She's intelligent and supportive, but I hate how mischaracterized she is by the fandom. I consider her a total girlboss, but so kind and supportive. Someone you can call a friend in this miserable world. Of course, at first she seemed a bit cold to me since, as anyone, she barely made contact with you, yet still helps you in anyway she can later on. She knows about Rubicon, but her flaw is that she's naive. I like that about her. In the Fires of Raven, when you both fight, she still has that hope that you'll change your mind about your choice and the idea to walk together. The feels man..

Walter is also such a great character, though cold and hides a lot of stuff from you, still cares about you, yet hides it. This caring shows a lot when you finally fight him in the Liberation ending, even if brainwashed, he realises that your actions are also driven by your own friend's wishes.. He also hides his own feelings towards others too, like when you accept to kill Michigan. Michigan may be in good terms with him, but doesn't stop you either way, yet has this hidden grief in his words that hides it with "this is just a job". He tries to be cold, but this demeanor slightly cracks in certain situations.

A honorable mention is Snail. I love to HATE him. Like, he's such a corporate scum of a human being that you love to hate him from that. Egoistic bastard that sacrifices for HIS own benefit. It's a typical villain that's just pure evil that's backstabbing his own people. I love it, I love this character type. He doesn't have any good things other than his strategy methods, but he's dirty and uses others. Yet, people like this exists in real life too.

I could yap about all of the characters all day, since I love ALL of them. They are so unique in their own ways and the cherry on top is that they are so realistic personality-wise. I played AC6 for big robots and stayed for these peak characters!

[pakhnokh]

I keep coming back to this specific panel and thinking about how vulnerable Wei Wuxian looks in the last frame. Thinking about it and assuming everything that happened before the start of HoG was canon, this is probably the first time ever Wei Wuxian was allowed to be human without everyone judging him for it or demanding that he explain why he fucked up again.

Lan Wangji just says Wei Wuxian doesn't need to explain, doesn't owe him that, he's not *entitled* to Wei Wuxian or his thoughts and feelings. Irony of finally owning himself while also feeling trapped aside, I can't imagine how raw that must have made Wei Wuxian feel.

(this late analysis brought to you by me being bored at work 😂)

Awwww thank you so much for being bored at work because I loved this analysis a lot! 🥺

If there's one thing that guides this story is LWJ understanding WWX's harsh position and trying to respect him as a man, as a former part of the proper cultivation world of their society, as a boy who was happy and enthusiastic once, and as a person who always stood up for what is right, even if it brought destruction upon himself and others.

In several parts of this arc I saw many people comment stuff like "hug him, lan wangji!" "kiss him!" etc, and I know it was people getting really emotional hahaha I would've commented the same.

But LWJ won't do that unless he earned WWX'S trust and love. He wants to show him support not by words of love, but by words of understanding, of taking action, of making him know that he has someone to rely on. LWJ knows what it's like to be a cultivator, how much hard work it takes, and what it means to be a part of their society. He knows that WWX position and honor as a cultivator in their world was harmed and he knows how hard it is, so if he offers any comfort, it's standing by his side as an ally in this political world and trying to find a solution to redeem his reputation. Offering romantic love is something that he'd really want to do, but doing it to a person who's been through all that hardship feels like mocking him and belittling from his status, or at least, the status WWX once had. So he's being patient and wants to help WWX the best he can. To be honest, he doesn't even rely on the possibility of his feelings being returned. He just wants to save his Wei Ying from those who wish to harm him, and to make things better for him.

In this part you shared, LWJ knows how it must feel like for WWX. Even without knowing about his trauma of being pushed from the sword, LWJ suspects that WWX might not have his core anymore (see arc 1) and plus, he feels guilty for all that WWX had to deal with on this day he planned to take him out. So even if WWX says that it's just cause he's tired, LWJ believes it too, since it's a huge emotional toll to have to sneak out hiding your identity, then the fear of being discovered, being the cause of mass panic and hate, hearing insults and accusations, realizing he's hated by all, and on top of it all - staying hungry 😭

He doesn't need WWX to explain nothing. He just wants him to rest and be safe, so that he could figure out how to help him 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Thank you again for your message ❤❤❤❤❤ hope it got better at work lol

[the5n00k]

Trauma is not a competition (long post)

‼️Spoilers for the ghost and Molly McGee season 2!‼️

And 1 but that's a year old so I assume you've seen it already

Just like the title says, Trauma is Not a Competition. And somehow, Molly and Scratch understand that better than most people out there. Heck, better than most people I know in my own family. Let me explain:

All trauma is equal, if it traumatized you and changed you as a person, it doesn't matter what it is. It could be so much as a bad dentist visit or your house burning to the ground in front of your eyes. Trauma is trauma

I've heard some people imply Molly's trauma is not as bad as Scratch's because she's younger or hasn't endured the same pain of losing everything after death. But she did lose everything. Multiple times. Now I personally believe they've been through equally as terrible shit but even just saying that is reductive because it doesn't matter what my opinion is because trauma is equal.

For an in universe explanation of how the characters understand this concept, let's look at season 1:

As early as episode ONE, Scratch is empathizing with Molly. He doesn't remember Adia at this point or even care about Molly as a person, he just met her. But his expression changes in a very peculiar and specific way. He puts his walls up right after this though.

First Day Frights is a prime example of him going out of his way for her feelings that everyone points back to but what Really stands out to me are the two bandshell episodes and Saving Christmas. Molly gets repeatedly beaten down by circumstances out of her control and her positivity is sapped out of her. And it freaks him out. He can't stand to see her like this and does EVERYTHING in his power to return her "annoying" positivity. Perhaps he's empathizing subconsciously from a life full of disappointment? But regardless, he deeply cared about her problems from the very beginning. They mean just as much to him as they do to her

In Home is Where the Haunt is, he knows she's had to move a lot, leave behind a ton of friends, and that he means so much to her because she thought she'd never have to leave him. Everywhere she went, he was there because of the curse, he couldn't leave either and she must have unintentionally gotten security from that feeling, knowing he's always there. So when it broke, and she knew it broke, (she says "I've been thinkin..." she was probably thinking about the curse being broken for the entire month the month the McGees were homeless) he saw her worried and instantly comforted her. In the goofiest goofball way possible (while also low-key avoiding the issue) but that's just how he does things, he's not good with the feelings stuff so using humor is his next best option most of the time. But his "see? I'm not goin anywhere" was probably the most genuine we'd heard him be up until this point.

I don't know if he ever considered leaving but even then, what's the point now? He finally had everything he ever wanted and Molly needs him just as much as he needs her.

Moving onto season 2

Even in situations where he can't directly relate to her like in 100% Molly McGee, he tries his best to help her feel better. He's terrible at giving advice but he still tries his best. It really means a lot to me that even when he was bunging up the entire inspirational speech, he tried naming something he knew always cheered her up (that being "puppies")

He stayed up probably all night with her cramming in as much Thai education as he could with her just so she'd feel less inadequate around her family. Season 1 scratch wouldn't be caught DEAD (again) putting in that much work. He was even trying to help her through the dinner scene (even if they were both getting overwhelmed)

Most of the time, even if he can't directly relate, Scratch does Everything he can to make Molly feel better and that's the sign of a good friend. That's emotional maturity I wish more people had quite honestly. Now I've rambled about this dumbass (/affectionate) enough, where's Molly fall on this?

Well first of all I'd like to start this by saying she literally separated her soul from her body to save him so girlie is also willing to do Anything for him.

But most of her emotional encouragement comes from season 2, let's take a look.

A Soda to Remember is a good example of this. For as much as she really wanted to learn more about Scratch, she understood how scary it must be to suddenly remember a past you've completely forgotten. She was willing to let him make the choice himself and that is HUGE emotional maturity for a 13 year old. Like some adults will pry more than her, but she's more than okay with giving him his space if he wants it, even after putting in all this effort to get him this soda. It could have been a huge waste of time for her but she was still willing to give him a choice and to me that just solidified how far they've come as best friends.

Now here's the really spoilery part, PLEASE don't read until you've watched All in the Mind

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You have? Okay, good. Anyways

Molly is once again (understandably) thrilled to learn more about Scratch by experiencing his memories first hand. I've actually had a talk like they had on the boat with my family and friends that was very similar, she just wants him to open up and be honest about his feelings. Because keeping it bottled up (ha) is a recipe for disaster. She probably knows a lot about how much that hurts because despite all the pain she's endured, she has to keep this upbeat, chipper attitude to keep enhappifying others. She has to keep moving forward. I wish we got an episode where she just Acknowledged all the shit she's been through at such a young age but eh, beggars can't be choosers.

After Scratch admits he kept the Adia memory a secret, she isn't mad. She's just confused and a bit sad about it. She just somberly asked "why didn't you tell me?" She's a little hurt about it, obviously because she's his best friend, but she realizes how hard that must be to talk about, especially after how scared he sounded the entire time. And she reiterates what she told him in A Soda to Remember:

Then, they see the memory together.

(small aside, I think it's interesting with how many parallels there are to Molly and Scratch's relationship and Adia and [Scratch]'s relationship that Molly would see the blurry memory and ask "is that us?")

She saw the moving truck pull away, she knows now. She's been the one pulling away too. Countless times.

Both of them, regardless if it was s1 ep18 or s2 ep12(?)b, did NOT hold any resentment towards each other for being on the other side of the situation. A selfish asshole like scratch could very easily say "well how would you know? You're the one always leaving! You have no idea what it's like being the one who's left." but they're better friends than that. They both understand how much that entire circumstance SUCKS from either side. So she empathizes with him by mentioning how it feels to have people leave. Each time probably burned into her memory, no matter how short her time in any town was.

And she uses his own words to her to comfort his worry before he even expresses any. She recognizes how terrible that must have felt for him just how terrible it was that they had to move out of their forever home for a while. She remembered him comforting her after they moved back in and she began to worry about the broken curse. They both recognize how deeply hurt each other are by no longer having the people from their pasts in their lives. And they both reach out with nothing but empathy and understanding. They even extend the same care and compassion towards feelings they personally haven't experienced. Because they're best friends.

Might get a little personal here but I appreciate that they aren't one-upping each other constantly with whatever problem they currently have. I've had people do that to me and it's honestly discouraging and keeps me from opening up because it makes me feel like my problems don't matter. But their problems matter to each other, all of them. Even the stupid little problems they have, all of them matter

"If it upsets you, it matters" is something I've been told when I refuse to open up about something because I think it's dumb. And basically that's their entire relationship. If it bothers one of them, it matters to the other

I just think that's beautiful and a good, healthy friendship. Nothing is one sided, they both deeply care. They're both deeply flawed. Both deeply traumatized. Both deeply loving (platonically of course)

Ramble over, I have no idea if I got my point across At All because I had to stop writing this like. Three times to do something else lol but I think I got it. Hope you enjoyed me pouring my heart out because of Molly and Scratch. It will happen again. This is a threat

[green-alien-turdz]

Hey dude, I've seen almost all of your posts and you're LITTERLY the most amazing Tumblr artist and person ever! You've got me to quit SH and I thank you for that, but I also came to try and help you. You're amazing at art and helping others, I know that isn't a reason to stay on this god forsaken planet but trust me it's not worth it, really. I've learned a lot when I stopped cutting and that is, its scary... To leave and not know...but I know things are bad on your end. Please don't go bro, you've helped a lot of people and you can help yourself, I know you can, because your the best person I've ever met on a social cite. I hope you will eventually pull through with this, if not I wish you a more than amazing journey into the... Afterlife? I'll just put it like that bc I don't know your stance on that stuff, but the point is, we love you dude. Don't leave while the going is good, we are always here if you need to tell us anything. ❤️ (Dayum I wrote a whole memoir😭)

First I wanna say that I'm so proud of you, I hope you truly acknowledge how big of an accomplishment that is. I sincerely wish you the best n most smoothest recovery ever. n you're super sweet, man. This was kinda like the most bittersweet message I've been sent, I'm not gonna lie. I know I openly talk about how bad shit is, but I don't think I ever expected someone to wish be a good journey to the afterlife yknow? It's such a personal thing to say n it kinda has me thinkin about just how bad I must be gettin if this is somethin a person thinks to say to me. I'm so sorry . Thank you for sendin this in.

[mermaidsirennikita]

Hi! Do you by chance have any kind of reading list for newbies to romance who want good examples of common tropes & an understanding of how the genre has evolved over time? Or recs for iconic titles and pioneer authors in the genre? I know Nora Roberts and Danielle Steele are everywhere but are they really the best place to start?

I can offer some recs/guidance! My word definitely isn't gospel and I have my blind spots—I try to read diversely, but I can always do better and am a white, cis, physically abled woman.

Soooo in terms of Nora and Danielle, I'd say yes to trying Nora, no to her necessarily being the best START, and personally I don't care for Danielle's books. But that's a pure taste issue, and the big thing is that the vast majority of Nora's books are romance (more recently, she's been published some dystopia/fantasy-bent stuff with romantic subplots while still publishing romance, I believe, and she's been publishing her In Death series, which is romantic suspense with some sci-fi elements, for years as J.D. Robb) whereas a lot of Danielle's books aren't. The first Danielle Steel book I ever read as a kid was pitched as a romance. It wasn't, and I hated it.

Nora is very good, but I do think she can be a bit overwhelming for new readers just because she's been through so many eras. She also has a very distinct voice, and you're either gonna be into it or you aren't. Nora writes a lot of trilogies, which will sometimes offer standalones and sometimes reeeeally read as interconnected series that happen to focus more on one of three couples per book (while the other couples still stay on as strong supporting characters). See my favorite books I've read by her, the Circle Trilogy. It's paranormal romance with a strong fantasy element. While each book centers one of of three couples, the books must be read in order and all feed into this overarching "save the day" storyline.

But to cut to the chase... Here are some books that can offer you an intro "sampler".

Iconique Classiques

A Kingdom of Dreams by Judith McNaught. This medieval romance is enemies to lovers where they're LEGIT enemies to lovers, with a delightfully complicated heroine. It's a great example of Judith McNaught, who is a foundational author, and despite being written in the 80s (with all that entails) it holds up really well.

The Bride by Julie Garwood. Another foundational medieval with a "oh, this is 80s but it hjolds up" vibe. Arranged marriage with a classic medieval setup: the Border Marriage! (Scotland x England marriage for political purposes.) Alec Kincaid is an EXTREMELY influential hero, and this is just such a fun book.

Indigo by Beverly Jenkins. Beverly Jenkins isn't by any means the only author who's written historical romances about Black characters, but she's perhaps the most influential and probably the historical romance novelist wh does the most research in general. Her writing is gorgeous, and this book focused on a practical heroine who ends up in over her head after she nurses an infamously rakish Underground Railroad conductor back to health is just so romantic.

A Knight in Shining Armor by Jude Deveraux. This is a really interesting romance, again very 80s but still good (imo). It focuses on a heroine in the 80s who goes to a church to cry wishing for a knight in shining armor after being abandoned by her douchey fiance. Then a literal medieval knight literally time travels right before her eyes. And he's also a douche lol. But a hot one!

Johanna Lindsey is also a very influential author in the genre, but a lot of her big CLASSICS are more noncon-leaning. A big one is Prisoner of My Desire, in which the heroine is forced to rape the hero in order to get pregnant (he later does the same to her in revenge... and then they fall in love). Kathleen E. Woodiwiss's The Flame and the Flower also features the hero raping the heroine, and it's also a classic. I won't get into it on a request post, but if you want to explore the genre more academically~ and are okay with reading noncon, I'd encourage checking out these and/or McNaught's Whitney, My Love. They're good books, imo, but the reality is that consent issues are a part of the genre's history, and that books with consent issues did and DO appeal to many romance readers for reasons that I think relate to the genre's appeal in a big way.

Kiss an Angel by Susan Elizabeth Phillips. Susan Elizabeth Phillips did a lot to work towards the contemporary romcoms of today, except her books are often a lot more romantic and a lot funnier. This one is also generally WILD with a super dickish alpha hero who takes the heroine (who was forced to marry him by her dad) on a jaunt around the country with a TRAVELING CIRCUS. It's crazy. It's extremely fun. It's WILD.

To Love a Dark Lord by Anne Stuart. This is another historical, and to me it shows a lot of the early seeds of dark romance. You have a shady hero, a deal with the devil, and high stakes throughout. Stuart writes the biggest assholes for heroes, but this one is on the softer side for her.

Contemporary

Reel by Kennedy Ryan. Kennedy is one of the best in the biz! This book focuses on a famous director who falls for the up and coming actress he's chosen to star in his passion project. But she has a secret that could come between them. It also has a unique quality in that it goes back and forth between their story and the movie "script", which tells its own love story.

Get a Life, Chloe Brown by Talia Hibbert. The first in Hibbert's funny, feelings-y, and hot Brown Sisters trilogy. Showcases a heroine with chronic pain who decides to get a life (as the title suggests) witht he help of her hot neighbor.

Lush Money by Angelina M. Lopez. A super unique billionaire romance with a Latina heroine who is in fact the billionaire, making a very unique deal with a prince in need...

How to End a Love Story by Yulin Kuang. A successful author sets out to have her books adapted into a TV show, only to find out that one of the writers on the show is a man who was pulled into her sister's suicide when they were teens. (Basically: her sister jumped in front of his car, it was by no means his fault but the heroine and her parents hated him for it.) They can't resist their chemistry as adults, and begin a short-term no-strings thing that obviously... is a lot more. SUPER emotional, super hot, would recommend 100000%. READ THIS OVER EMILY HENRY. IMO.

Heated Rivalry by Rachel Reid. A great way to try sports romance, and a particular niche of sports romance called hockey romance, and a particular niche of hockey romance called GAY hockey romance. One of the only hockey romances I'm into, about a pair of longtime rivals who've secretly had a FWB situationship for years and are clearly in love but can't handle admitting it. SO. GOOD.

Chef's Choice by T.J. Alexander. A classic fake dating setup with a lot of cooking when a down on her luck woman agrees to pretend to date the French heir to a famous cooking family while he takes on a cooking... challenge...? To lock in his inheritance. A book with a trans hero and a trans heroine, rare (unfortunately) in romance.

Managed by Kristen Callihan. This is a great example of a rockstar romance, albeit one that focuses more on the manager of the band who's sooo uptight, and the social media girl/photographer he can't live without.

Lead by Kylie Scott. And if you want a rockstar romance that's about, well, the rockstar side... Here's a book about a recovering addict frontman whose world is turned upside down when his hard-ass assistant/sober living companion/unintentional best friend quits her job (because she just realized that somehow she's fallen in love with him).

The Kiss Quotient by Helen Hoang. A woman on the spectrum who's convinced that she's bad in bed (and wants to get married to please her family) hires a sex worker to get her out of her funk. Definitely recommend!

Historical

Again the Magic by Lisa Kleypas. This is the prequel to Kleypas's Wallflowers series. By and large, I generally recommend trying to read older editions of Lisa's earlier books—she's been making a lot of edits since 2015ish that I don't... love.... I haven't heard of any edits being made to this one, though, and she's one of the greatest historical romance authors of all time. This is a dual romance, with a second chance/revenge interclass romance as the main story, with an age gap sort of redemption romance in the second story. Both are excellent.

Thief of Shadows by Elizabeth Hoyt. Hoyt's entire Maiden Lane series is sooo good, but if you're going to read one book by her, go for the one with the virgin vigilante hero who finds love with a jaded society widow.

The Duke Gets Even by Joanna Shupe. This is a standalone that's even better when you read the prior books in its series first. However, I think it's a great sendup of historical romance tropes—you get a rakish heroine, a hero who likes some rough sex (giving AND receiving bites and bruises) and a lot of HIGH OCTANE EMOTION with a feminist streak.

A Lady for a Duke by Alexis Hall. A friends to lovers romance between a PTSD-ridden duke and a woman who, unbeknownst to him, is his best friend from before the war, who faked her death after the Battle of Waterloo in order to live as her true self. A rare historical romance with a trans heroine.

The Dragon and The Pearl by Jeannie Lin. A cat and mouse villain/kidnapping romance set in Tang Dynasty China. Super tense in the best possible way.

An Island Princess Starts a Scandal by Adriana Herrera. A sapphic romance set in 1800s Paris, with one heroine being forced to show the other the secrets of the lesbian art community as a part of a business deal.

Princess by Gaelen Foley. To me, this is a great example of CAMPY 90s bodice ripper vibes in the best possible way. A bodyguard! A princess! An age gap! It can't be! She lactates when he sucks on her tits (she's a virgin).

The Mistress Experience by Scarlett Peckham. A sex work-positive romance with a shy hero and a bold heroine, a super modern and exciting look at historicals.

Devil's Bride by Stephanie Laurens. This is one I would definitely recommend to see a throwback—it's a great example of the campy historicals focused on one big family, with a solid dose of humor. And I mean... you kind of need to read a book with a hero named Devil.

Unmasked by the Marquess by Cat Sebastian. A super lovely friends to lovers romance with a nonbinary protagonist. It definitely broke new ground in historical romance.

Waking Up with the Duke by Lorraine Heath. Lorraine is one of the best historical romance writers in the game and is known for turning bonkers plots (in this case, local man agrees to impregnate his impotent best friend's wife) into suuuuuuper emotional love stories. A must-read.

Paranormal Romance

Slave to Sensation by Nalini Singh. A really interesting, influential shifter romance with a heroine who's literally incapable of feeling emotion... falling for a hero who's a literal panther shifter that feels ALL the emotion.

A Hunger Like No Other by Kresley Cole. A CLASSIC paranormal romance and the first full-length installment of Immortals After Dark, the best PNR series I've ever read. Very classic hyper alpha werewolf book, with the "feminine but headstrong" heroine type Kresley's so good at. I would also make your way to Lothaire, which is later in the series but probably the BEST vampire romance novel I've ever read. A true example of a villain romance, which can be hard to find.

Dragon Bound by Thea Harrison. Another Big Alpha romance with mating bond stuff, this time featuring a dragon shifter who hunts the heroine down after she steals from him.

Morning Glory Milking Farm by C.M. Nascosta. Not MY favorite book, but it's cute, and if you want an example of the modern "soft monster" romance, this... is it. (Run, Run Rabbit is my Nascosta of choice, but it's definitely a darker bite and feels a bit less "monster romance" to me as the leads are werewolves. To me, a monster should be less... humanoid.)

Bride by Ali Hazelwood. I really liked this, but I also think it's good to read to see the contrast between currently lite paranormals and paranormals from the height of the early 2000s wave. Plus, it's a tradpub book with knotting, which... shows how far we've come lmao

Moonglow by Kristen Callihan. Another KCallihan, but she writes across so many subgenres! This one I'm recommending to illustrate a particular niche we don't get enough of—historical paranormals. A werewolf/witch book set in Victorian London? And he's a Scottish rake? HELL YEAH.

A Long Time Dead by Samara Breger. A recent release that offers more gothic approach, with a romance between sapphic vampires spanning centuries. You can totally see an Interview with the Vampire call and response thing going on, but as a true romance novel with more explicit queerness (referring to the Interview book, not the show).

Erotic Romance

Priest by Sierra Simone. Good for dipping your toes into the Sierra Simone waters, a very classic "taboo" (but the taboo is religious, so it's light for a lot of people) romance between a Catholic priest and a woman seeking to unburden herself. With unique usages for holy oils. For Simone, I'll also recommend..............

The New Camelot Trilogy. This is for people who are ready to expand a bit and explore poly romance—I personally don't think anyone writes poly as well as Simone. An MMF triad retelling of the King Arthur myth, with the president, vice president, and first lady in a tangled, semi-dark-but-more-emotionally-speaking-not-violently-speaking triangle. Her writing is MAGNIFIQUE.

Praise by Sara Cate. Sara Cate is hit or miss for me, but this one is a great way to try her out while getting a good example of a "sex club" romance. The heroine ends up in a light D/s relationship with her ex-boyfriend's dad, with a good bit of praise involved. ;)

The Master by Kresley Cole. Another author who has to be featured multiple times due to her expansiveness. This one is a Russian mafia book that involves some truuuuuuly interesting... devices. But also, a lot of heart, as Kresley Cole is so good at making everything work. An interesting contrast to Lothaire, which I maintain is the paranormal version of this book in a lot of ways.

Mafia Mistress by Mila Finelli. A great example of an Italian mafia romance, with a massive age gap and some daddy stuff. I will also say—it does end on a cliffhanger and you need to read Mafia Darling to get the full story. Mafia Madman is actually my favorite in this series and is about a different couple, but they're ALL super good.

His Valet by S.M. LaViolette. A historical erotic romance with boss/employee stuff, secret identity stuff, a great grovel, and a nonbinary protagonist. Gorgeously written, daring, and a must.

Preferential Treatment by Heather Guerre. A billionaire romance that critiques the very concept of billionaires, and a great example of a soft femdom romance.

Act Your Age by Eve Dangerfield. An interesting and again self-analytical daddy age gap romance.

Fantasy Romance

A Heart of Blood and Ashes by Milla Vane. An amazing barbarian-type romance with a big fantasy world and a ton of heat and swoony passion. A must!

The Witch Collector by Charissa Weaks. I just think this series is everything people tell you ACOTAR is, and I would absolutely recommend for multiple great romances (m/f and m/m), complex characters, and amazing dynamics throughout.

Kingdom of the Wicked by Kerri Maniscalco. This kicks off Maniscalco's Kingdom of the Wicked series, with witchcraft, demons, and more. This series began with a YA tone (the heroine was never underage, though) but in the second book Maniscalco transitioned to a fully adult sphere (and content...). You could also begin with the "adult from the start" spinoff Throne of the Fallen, it's up to you.

The Wisteria Society for Lady Scoundrels by India Holton. A whimsical and super romantic book kicking off a series with thieves, flying pirates, witches, and a ton of humor with a historical romance bent.

The Winter King by C.L. Wilson. Another high fantasy type romance with a conquering winter king marrying a summer princess in a true-making arrangement. Ice sculptures, war, and enemies to lovers goodness ensues.

Aaaand I don't read a lot of alien/sci-fi romance, but I'd definitely say that everyone should give Ruby Dixon's Ice Planet Barbarians series a try for the culture! Barbarian's Mate is my favorite, but Barbarian Alien might be a good place for newbies to start.

[not-poignant]

Hi!! I hope you’re enjoying spring! And I hope that the warmer weather and the blooming flowers bring about comfort and rejuvenation (if they have indeed started blooming, I have no idea how and when spring springs in your part of the world at this time). 🌷

How do you feel about fanfics of your original fiction? I’ve read most of your works on ao3 and have been following your tumblr for a while so I know (or at least it seems like) you are very encouraging toward any type of interpretation and writing.

I’ve seen there are a number of works people have written that either use your original characters or your worlds and I’m wondering how that feels on a personal level. Have you read them all? I imagine it’s quite flattering. But what if things seem a bit out of character or not exactly how you imagined? And what if those out of character moments or out of world moments seem like misinterpretations rather than reimaginings?

Basically this is all coming from a place of uncertainty. I’ve written some Ice Plague fanfic that I am personally proud of but it’s scary 😳. It’s still a draft and has been sitting as an open window on my computer for months now.

I have so much respect for any artist who puts their art out into the world. You’re so amazing Pia!!

I meant to reply to this and then Life did it's lifening thing SO HERE I AM NOW

Firstly I have a blanket 'omg yes please I love fanfics of my stuff' - there's even a fandom tag wrangled for it on AO3 (it might not stay there forever, and idk how it happened, but it's amazing and I'm forever 'omg thank' to the person who did that, though I wish it happened for more original fandoms over at AO3 which are very fandom friendly and have lots of fanfiction).

But you know that, I just figured I'd say it again. :D

Now to the nitty gritty of it all:

Philosophically I think it's fantastic in general. Every author feels like they've 'made it' as a 'real author' at different points in their career. For some it's their first paycheck or royalties. For others it's their first published novel. For others it's their first positive review from a stranger.

For me, it was the first time I got fanart, and then the first time I got fanfic. That for me was the marker of realising I'd 'made it.' Everything else is incredible too, don't get me wrong, that was just my metric. I didn't know it was until I got there, and I was like 'oh, this must be the feeling other people were talking about.'

Have you read them all?

So, no I haven't. I have a rule that I don't read any fics for a universe I'm still actively writing in. This applies to fanfiction for works I'm writing right now (so I haven't read any transformative works like fanfiction for the Underline series), and it also applies to fanfiction for works I'm writing fanfiction for (I stopped reading BG3 fic the moment I started writing Palmarosa, and I don't read Stardew Valley fanfic either).

This is mostly a 'liability' rule so that people can't say 'hey you copied this idea of mine give me money.' That's not highly likely to happen, but it does happen, and I think occasionally people forget that if I set up enough foreshadowing in a story that's not finished, and other people unconsciously write the 'logical end' of that foreshadowing, and then I write it myself, I didn't copy them, I followed the logic of my own story, lol.

I do read everything once I've finished writing in a particular original world! Back in the day I used to leave a lot more comments and engagement and then realised that might not be wanted or might be strange, or even might be seen as playing favourites if I do that to some people and not others, so now I try to keep some distance so people don't feel like I'm breathing over their shoulder basically, judging them.

There was a period of people trying to check in with me about their fics to be canon compliant, and I sort of disliked it, because to me that's the opposite of what fanfiction is - they're not writing my version of a story - I'm doing that, they're writing their version. And as with everything else, just like you have to make up what's not present in say...The X-Files, I like it better when people invent their own solutions or change rules based on what they want to see. Now I'm a lot firmer about encouraging people to remember that fanfiction is 'anything goes' and it's really not at all about how I feel about their ideas or how "correctly" those ideas apply in my own mind about my universe.

That leads me to answering your next question:

But what if things seem a bit out of character or not exactly how you imagined?

GOOD!!! That's what fanfiction is! Anyone expecting anything different is like...wildly out of touch with the purpose of transformative works which are meant to transform characters, canon, plot points, and scenarios. If people want to take my characters and put them on a spaceship, they can. If people want Temsen and Gwyn to fuck and have a happy ending, they can write it and I'm happy for them.

I literally am extremely happy about this, even if it's so wildly not what I'd write it's actually a trigger for me and I can't read it lmao. That's what fanfiction is for.

Fanfiction isn't for me, fanfiction is for fandom, for the people in it, for the people transforming the original thing. I'm extremely lucky I get to participate in it, but do you think I'm out here worrying about whether ConcernedApe/Eric Barone (creator of Stardew Valley) thinks my version of Alex or Sebastian in my Stardew Valley fic are like the most 'in character' version? Nope. I don't want him to know about my fic at all, I'm doing terrible things to his characters lmao.

And what if those out of character moments or out of world moments seem like misinterpretations rather than reimaginings?

That has nothing to do with me, and it's not my business. It's wrong to even pretend to make it my business. I don't want to be flippant and say 'so what?' - So it's more like - that's literally the point of fanfiction. Or again - good!

People can make characters into self-inserts. They can turn a character into pure wish fulfillment. They can take a world they love (the Underline universe) and then put themselves in there and make Gwyn super femme and I'm not really going to want to read that and that's great, because ultimately it has nothing to do with me and it shouldn't have anything to do with me. They can make every character experience mpreg, if they love mpreg, I'm so happy for them lmao.

Tbh, I also feel this way about fanfiction for other fandoms too. Do I stumble into Dragon Age fics with characterisations so wild and offputting I'm like 'OH GOD NO' and want to throw my phone across the room? Of course! And what do I do? I close the tab and find someone who's not doing that. It's so free and easy to just make different choices and find (or write!) the fics I want to see in the world without judging other authors for living their best lives.

I want fanfic authors to live their best lives, and that includes me as a fanfic author. I don't want to - as a creator of some original universes - have attitudes that would go against that.

So yeah, I'm...what I would call pretty zen about people 'misinterpreting' my characters (it's not really a misinterpretation, because that assumes that the goal of fanfiction is to always write characters 'in character' and it's not - there are many many goals in fanfiction, being canon compliant is only one of very many).

I'm less zen about people trying to get me to approve their ideas for fics or headcanons they have about my stuff. First, that's not really my job in the sense that...this is their responsibility if they want to write a fic, and also it's not great for me to interfere with their creative process (and not really fair on me to expect me to do creative work for them outside of the creative work I already write - asking me to have thoughts on their headcanons usually ends badly if they're unrealistic lmao). Like, it's not really fandom 'normal' to just go up to the show creators of Teen Wolf and go 'hey do you think my headcanon would happen? What about if they all got pregnant?'

And second, it implies that this is an area I should have input into and it's not. Even if I said 'I hate fanfiction don't write it' like a hypocrite, people can still write it. That's how much I don't matter to the process of writing fanfiction for an original work I've created. If people make getting my approval for their headcanons my 'problem' by putting it in my inbox, I will reply from the perspective of someone who writes the canon (which can sometimes lead to headcanon shattering, which I don't want to do! So tread lightly, folks), if people don't want me to shatter their headcanons before they write the fic, don't share 'em with me - they're not my business. :D

This can get confusing because sometimes people are asking me genuine worldbuilding questions and hypotheticals in good faith about my writing, and sometimes they're kind of trying to ask about their writing and get me to do some of the hard work for them, and I can usually tell those folks by how many anons they send me and if they seem strangely fixated on a particular subject I clearly have no interest in writing about, like mpreg (mpreg anons, you know who you are). In those cases it's like *I hand the pad and pen to you, and now it's your turn to answer these questions - if I wanted this to be part of my imaginative landscape, I'd be imagining it, and I don't want to.*

I get to be here and share other people's fanfiction and fanart, that's a privilege I get to enjoy, but I don't sort of have to be here to validate what other people are doing or thinking or writing or drawing etc. It's something I get to be a part of when people choose to share it with me in a way that I can then share it with more people, but I'm not an arbiter of it.

It can exist not only in my absence, but also in the face of my active disapproval (bless all you Anne Rice fanfiction writers who said 'fuck you' to Anne Rice being extremely litigious about people writing fic for her works and doing it anyway, bless every single one of you).

Thankfully I don't disapprove of it at all, no matter how batshit triggery wild OOC the headcanons are, it's like looking at something happening in a building I don't live in and am not supposed to live in. My response is like: 'Well, I don't live there, so...that has nothing to do with me, but hey, maybe other people want to live in that building so I'll share the address to folks who know me too.'

[kairiscorner]

Hello, I'm very scared on the dentist so I wanted to ask for Spider-Noir with a s/o with brackets that has to go to the dentist often but is also scared of the dentist

Especially because many times your teeth hurts after going to the dentist and you can't eat for some hours (or days), or at least that's my experience

Wish me luck too (ुŏ̥̥ŏ̥̥)

HI ANONNN omg that really must hurt, i'm so sorry 😭😭😭BEST OF LUCK TO YOU !! I HOPE THIS BRINGS YOU LOVE AND COMFORT <333

spider noir helping you out with your braces

when noir saw your braces for the first time, he was actually super amazed. he wondered just how they worked, when you told him they were to fix your teeth, he'd looked at you confused then smile and be like, "but love, what do you mean your teeth need any fixing? i think they're already wonderful they way they are now. especially with how bright they shine when i say you're the most lovely person in my whole, darn life..."

when you'd admit that you were scared of the dentist, no matter how often you had to go there, noir would never chide you nor shame you for feeling that way.

"aww... it's only natural, love. just because you're forced to see them every month or two doesn't mean you lose that fear. c'mere, i'll hold you all the while we're there. i promise."

AND HE TRIES TO FOLLOW YOU INTO THE ROOM WHERE YOU HAVE TO GET YOUR ADJUSTMENTS. the dentists would tell him to wait outside, but he'd try to compromise and explain he promised to keep your comfortable and safe there.

"sorry doc, but i promised my beloved i'd hold them the whole time. i'm not one to back out on my promises." "but sir, it's for sanitary reasons you have to leave." "i'll wash my hands, wear the robes, the hair caps, the gloves, masks, whatever. just... i want to keep them comfortable."

there were times when he'd be allowed to stay, usually for longer procedures and more risky ones like tooth extractions and such. and all the while, he'd hold you. he'd hold your hand, feel his thumb over it, let you squeeze his hand if you were ever scared; and he'd assure you he's got you.

and after the procedure, he'd still be holding on to you if you needed him. he'd praise you for how brave you were, toughing it out at the dentist's chair and how well the progress on your teeth was getting.

"man... i can't wait to see just much prettier your smile will only get from here. you're already a total knockout, what more when you lose the braces? oh, i'd be in heaven by then, killing me with your beauty, you damned cutie."

if there were times when you'd feel pain after the adjustments, peter would rush to the nearest pharmacy and buy A TON of pain relievers and painkillers, hoping you wouldn't have to suffer so much.

he'd also buy you the softest foods he could think of, like breads, some canned soup for him to make for you two, rice if you wanted.

HE'D BUY YOU WHOLE TUBS OF ICE CREAM BECAUSE HE HEARD COLD STUFF RELIEVES THE PAIN !!! he'd buy out the entire ice cream store just for you and your comfort :>>

if you'd tell him what he did was appreciated but overboard, he'd chuckle and tell you: "love... nothing's too overboard for me if it meant i'd see you happy and comfy. trust me, it's an absolute pleasure for me to see you smile--even if you're a little embarrassed to show it, i love every bit of that sweet, lovable smile of yours."

a/n: BEDUBCEUBCIUFBNIOFBNIOF NOIRRRRRR

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @sabcandoit @binibinileonara @k4tsu3 @luvstarrstruck @connors-cumslurper @maxoloqy

[cantstoplovingjude]

To Steal You Away: Alfons Sylvatica Ch.2

This is from Ikemen Villains EN, Cybird owns everything.

Kate: "We don't have to hold hands, but... can I just hold onto your sleeve?"

(He's definitely going to tease me now...)

Alfons: "Of course. Whatever you wish."

I looked up at him, surprised by his kind response, but then saw a smile curving on his lips.

Alfons: "Did your heart skip a beat just now?"

Alfons: "You can grab me anywhere you like. Go on."

Kate: "This is fine. Thank you."

Alfons: "Are you sure? Such a reserved little robin. You should be more demanding sometimes, you know."

His reply was lighthearted and airy. However...

I noticed he was walking slower than usual.

(Is he matching his pace to mine?)

If he was indecent and dishonest and the stuff of nightmares, then I should keep my distance.

(So why does he make it so hard for me to do just that?)

I kept those feelings to myself as we began looking for any stolen items that might've been stashed away here.

Alfons: "This place is just packed with things. It looks like Elbie's room!"

(This is what Lord Elbert's room looks like...?)

I had to admit that this sort of light chitchat was the best way to stay calm in dark, scary places like this.

But I felt the fear creeping up on me again and blurted out the first thing that came to mind, as if to ward it off.

Kate: "Liam told me something the other day."

Kate: "He said you two often go out together late at night."

Kate: "What in the world are you two doing together?"

Alfons: "Do you what to know because Liam's involved? Or because of me?"

(There he goes again, teasing me.)

Kate: "I'm the Fairytale Keeper, so I thought I'd ought to know."

Alfons: "What a boring, trite answer. However, I'll indulge you just this once."

Alfons: "Due to his curse, Liam must satisfy his curiosity on a regular basis."

Alfons: "Which just so happens to align with my hedonistic views, as I love a good time."

Alfons: "So before we knew it, we both started looking for new thrills to satisfy our curiosity together."

Kate: "What exactly does that mean...?"

Alfons: "Well, we have a game where we jump from rooftop to rooftop while drunk. If you fall, you're out."

Alfons: "There's also a game called Chicken where we race horses to the edge of a cliff."

Kate: "That's definitely beyond what I'd imagined."

Alfons: "Oh, I'm pleased to hear that!"

Alfons: "There are other delightful things we get up to as well, but I shouldn't share those with others. Would you like to tag along next time?"

Kate: "Sorry, but I think I'll pass."

Alfons: "Ah, what a shame."

Alfons chuckled and picked up a dusty marble that lay at his face.

Kate: "Hm?"

It let off a dull glow as he held it in his hand.

Alfons: "Liam needs to forget about reality sometimes."

Alfons: "You're starting to pick up on that fact, aren't you?"

Kate: "Yes... I had a feeling."

Liam wasn't just satisfying his curiosity because of his curse.

When I was having a hard time or was feeling sad, he always the first person to come to me.

He generously gave me his time to try to cheer me up.

I had a feeling the reason he was so good at doing so was because he empathized with people's pain and sadness.

So, there must have been a lot of suffering and sadness in his past.

Maybe he was keeping himself going through his dark and dreary everyday life by coloring it with curiosity.

That reminded me of what Alfons had said to me before.

It was the first time he'd used his ability to rewrite perception on me.

-Flashback-

Alfons: "Life is a tragedy. There are many painful realities that can't be changed even if we try."

Alfons: "So what's wrong with escaping into dreams?"

-Flashback Ends-

(Back then, I was so confused about what he was doing that I didn't think too deeply about what he meant.)

But those words had lingered uncomfortably inside my heart.

Alfons was a thrill-seeking hedonist who loved having a good time and enjoyed making people see illusions.

However, now he told me that he was aware Liam had something he wanted to forget, and that was why he went out with him at night.

(Maybe it's just convenient for me to think this way because it's what I want to believe.)

(But what if...)

(What if Alfons really is showing people illusions to help them escape from painful realities that plague them?)

Just then, I heard a noise from the back of the hallway and exchanged glances with Alfons.

Kate: "Is it the culprit?"

Alfons: "I suppose we shall find out. Get behind me, Miss Kate."

I turned and peeked over Alfons's shoulder, but saw someone very unexpected.

==========

Elderly Man: "...Who are you young'uns?"

An old man with white hair was settled deep in an armchair.

(Somehow I have a hard time believing that man's a thief and a murderer...)

It certainly looked like he was the owner of this house.

Alfons: "Our cat wandered in here, so we came after it. Terribly sorry to come in without permission."

Elderly Man: "Oh, I see... I thought you were another one of those fools barging in here again."

Alfons: "What do you mean?"

Elderly Man: "Well, some lads have been sneaking in here at night without my permission."

Elderly Man: "Just because I had a spare room, they thought they could take advantage of me and make themselves at home."

He lived here alone and seemed to be turning a blind eye to the criminals using this place without permission.

(But why are they leaving him alive?)

It was definitely risky to keep him around.

All he had to do was tell one person who'd call the police and that'd be the end of it.

They'd supposedly already killed before, so it wasn't because they were hesitant to kill...

Elderly Man: "Oh, I'm sorry. I was so absorbed in my guests I forgot about you."

(Huh? Is there someone else here?)

I looked around, but we were the only ones in the room.

And then, I realized he was speaking to a portrait of a woman on the wall.

Elderly Man: "Will you forgive me? Yes, I know. You've always liked guests."

I was confused, but then heard Alfons whisper into my ear.

Alfons: "Oh, I see. He's senile. That's why they kept him alive."

Alfons: "What should we do about him, Miss Kate?"

Kate: "What do you mean?"

Alfons: "If I use my ability, I might be able to bring him to his senses."

Alfons: "That way we can get his testimony and our mission will be easier."

I wasn't sure how the old man viewed what was happening here.

But I did know that he looked blissfully happy as he gazed at the painting.

Kate: "I..."

==========

We decided to seize the stolen items we recovered as evidence and move forward with the condemnation at a later time.

That way, we wouldn't cause any harm to the old man who lived in the house.

Alfons: "Why didn't you want to bring him out of his dreams back into reality?"

When he'd asked me before, I told him I wanted to leave the old man alone.

Kate: "He needs that dream in order to survive. So I don't think it's a bad thing."

Kate: "Even if the dream was just a convenience."

Kate: "Also..."

Kate: "I thought that's what you would do, if given the choice."

Alfons stared at me for a moment.

Then without warning-he pulled me toward him and hugged me against his chest.

The next thing I knew, I heard a gunshot ring out. A nearby potted plant in the garden exploded from the bullet.

(What's going on?!)

Man with Stubble: "You think you can just barge into our hideout, huh?!"

A man loomed before us, his eyes fixed on the stolen goods we'd confiscated.

(He's one of the culprits!)

Man with Stubble: "I can't let you outta here alive now. I'm gonna kill you!"

Alfons: "That's pretty rich, considering you're the one who trespassed into someone else's home."

Alfons swept behind the man in a flash and twisted his neck, rendering him unconscious in an instant.

Alfons: "Whoops, I forgot that we trespassed too. Oh, well."

Alfons: "Shall we confiscate him, too?"

==========

After we safely delivered the stolen items to Jude's warehouse, we walked through the city at night.

(Oh...)

Only then did I notice my hands were trembling slightly.

The sound of the gunshot brought back memories of the previous night.

(I hate this... I just want to forget about last night and get rid of all this fear inside me.)

(I don't want it to control me forever.)

I clenched my hands into fists to try to stop shaking, and then Alfons tapped me on the shoulder.

Alfons: "Miss Kate. Miss Kate...? Do you have more time to spare?"

Kate: "Huh? Oh, yes. I don't have any other plans for tonight."

Alfons: "That's a relief. How about staying with me a bit longer, then?"

Kate: "For what?"

Alfons: "Since Liam's away, this is the perfect opportunity to do all sorts of shameless and indecent things to you."

Alfons: "Now that our mission is done, we can extend our date. The excitement's only just begun."

End Ch.2

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

Why hello,Hera here. I saw your Carmilla ramble and just wanted to say that I 100% agree. However,I feel like she makes sense somehow? Let me explain! We clearly see her as this respectable (yes,Velvette stay put) fairly modest woman, but I surmise that's a clear “don't judge a book by it’s cover” type of thing. And..yes,I would put photos but I cannot do that in anon...anyway.

Let's look at her. She is PERFECTLY portrayed as a hypocrite. Yes. Obviously there were some..character writing issues to say the least but she IS a hypocrite. Not just because she sells weapons; what does a hypocrite do? Say stuff and do otherwise, to their own advantage. She does everything she does to save her daughters and herself, saying to not cause war but outright attacking Vaggie AS SHE SET FOOT inside her chambers. She couldn't care less about other sinners,and that's WHY she sells weapons. She's a bad person, she sells guns to make other sinners outright attack eachother. Why? To bring more Sales of course. If you know you're in danger then..let's just say, wouldn't you sell your soul for some security? People have sold them for far less after all.

Secondly, notice how she's outright manipulating Vaggie,maybe Zestial even? She does absolutely NOT care about them. The only thing she has ever done for Zestial for all I remember in the show was stop Velvette from causing problems during the meeting,and when she felt like she was losing control over it — as someone manipulative would do — she shuts her down sending her away. She understood she f-cked up and TO NOT RUIN HER FACADE she literally admitted everything just to keep the strings stretched thin. And that's the thing about the final stretch: It can keep stretching for however long she wishes it to. After keeping it from people you must either speak up about it or let the situation fall into the hands of fate which isn't really reccomended when you're trying to guilt-trip someone with a heart wrenching Song,no?

ABOUT SONGS CAN WE PLEASE SPEAK ABOUT OUT FOR LOVE? that song is absolutely screaming: “I didn't tell you this for my own advantage but I'm trying to distract you by telling you to fight for who you love yes whoo totally cohesive with what the main trope is!”.

Last and probably least, we take english as the official and outmost canon language in which the show is written. However, in certain translations DURING the overlord meeting — more specifically while velvette sang respectless — she said “I warn you that sooner or later you will pay for it, If it were up to me I would kick you out of here!”. Now, I know this is probably to actually make it rhyme but IT'S NOT JUST THAT. Because if we take a little more objective view we understand that she is exactly the type to be so aggressive. She sells weapons,attacks Vaggie, Stays behind closed doors when she could've HELPED her, and look at what information she actively chose to withold versus what she said up until out for love? . Think about it,She cares for herself and for her daughters..which brings me up to the first point.

Now, you're probably right and she's Just badly written but THERE'S STILL HOPE! I hope-

Ah you are certainly onto something. I also noticed that she basically confirmed Velvette's words by shutting down the meeting just to not ay it directly. Like, it was a terrible choice. She's obviously not as strong and wise as she poses if one (1) loud lady was able to disarm her so quickly. She's as short tempered as Vox or Val considering that Vaggie she attacked for no reason. I honestly agree with everything that you've written because it makes sense. I'm sure her being just a hypocrite wouldn't bother me that much if it wasn't for the way the show frames her. I can't really describe it I feel like it insists, I should see her in a positive light. That's not the case with any other Overlord. Even Rosie is explicitly shown to be profit-driven and manipulative (don't get me wrong, I would die for this woman but she basically told Charlie "here's how you can convince my people to die for your cause without telling them that they will probably die"). But Carmilla is just fierce, protective, supportive and reasonable. Dunno, I hope they will fix her somehow in season 2 since she's probably not going anywhere.