#living in platonic solids

[art-of-mathematics]

Today's Tiny Tetrahedron

(artist of the colorful artwork in the background of the first photo is unknown)

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

hold on. i just wanted to see their height difference and. and hold on-

ill probably clean this up & do the other neighbors but ohhhhh my god. hes SMALL!!!!!! TWELVE! APPLES! (bg Home included to see if Barnaby would be able to fit through the front door. nope<3)

[worstloki]

villain and hero who insist they're in a relationship and defend the relationship in question but refuse to define it stating that they don't believe in limiting strict rules on one

[onlyplatonicirl]

utmv is so funny to me because with most other fandoms its like - i have my favorite ships and i dont like other ones but with UTMV its just

yeah i think literally all of them should be kissing immediately. Suddenly I am the world's largest multishipper.

[cupid-styles]

yours (ymls check-in)

in which y/n just wants to be harry's — officially.

word count: 3.8k

content warnings: parenting/family stuff (y/n and harry are parents), smut (breeding kink, slight size kink, literal one "mommy" mention, dirty talk)

ymls masterlist | main masterlist

talk to me

. . .

Parenthood is difficult.

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out, so it takes Harry and Y/N approximately two minutes of bringing Clementine into the world to come to the same realization. Her loud wails break their hearts every time, sleep becomes a luxury, and breastfeeding takes an incredible toll on Y/N’s physical and mental health.

But in the same way that parenting is hard and filled with tears and confusion, it’s just as — if not more — rewarding.

Clementine is the best thing that’s ever happened to each of them. Harry can’t remember a version of his life where he wasn’t head-over-heels in love with his sweet baby girl, and Y/N has softened up a considerable amount now that she spends most of her day cooing to her daughter. 

It’s not perfect by any means — Clem is a tried-and-true daddy’s girl and sometimes it hurts Y/N’s feelings. Clementine also inherited her mom’s grumpy exterior and, in the middle of a visit from Harry’s parents or Y/N’s sister, will starfish her body, going completely rigid until one of her parents takes her. (Harry always thinks it’s funny while Y/N is embarrassed by it. It’s something they’re working on as a family.)

Beyond their little trio, though, lies a larger situation that’s been conveniently tucked away since Clementine was born: Harry and Y/N’s relationship. 

They never decided what they were after confessing feelings for one another. One day, they lived separately and were going the route of platonic co-parenting. The next, Harry moved all his things into Y/N’s, ended the lease on his own apartment, and painted the guest room a pretty pastel pink. 

At first, it didn’t seem like that big of a deal. Y/N has never cared for labels on relationships, and their devotion to each other was blatant — they were parenting a child together, after all. He kissed her good morning, they held hands on family walks, and at the end of the day, they were crawling into bed together. She didn’t need a ring or a title to reiterate where she stood in Harry’s life.

Until… well, until the supermarket incident.

It was a rainy day, but Y/N wanted to pop into the store before they rounded the corner to head back home. Now that Clementine’s pediatrician gave them the okay to start trying out solid foods — or, as solid as baby food can be — Harry had gotten really into making it from scratch. Currently, their kitchen was a mess of sweet potato, apple, and green bean purees, but Y/N was trying to be supportive, even if the noise of the blender sometimes woke Clem up from her afternoon nap. She remembered him mentioning a new recipe he found for carrots, mangos, and bananas, so she figured they could grab the ingredients on their way home. 

Clementine looked adorable in her cute little rain jacket and matching hat. Harry couldn’t stop taking pictures of her, and as they dipped into the produce aisle, stroller in tow, she remembered they needed another gallon of milk since they were trying to wean Clem off of Y/N’s breast milk. 

“You guys can stay right here, it’s just in the next aisle,” Y/N said, arms stuffed with produce bags. Harry nodded, though his attention primarily laid on Clementine’s gummy smile. Y/N snorted to herself as she quickly shuffled off to the dairy section — the duo were two peas in a pod, but she didn't think she would want it any other way. 

Glancing down at her watch, she put a pep in her step as she walked back to the produce aisle. They had about 15 minutes before Clem started getting antsy and whiney about her pre-dinner nap, and she didn’t want her to get upset on their walk home. 

Only, when she turned the aisle, Harry and Clementine weren’t alone anymore — no, there were two women standing with them, cooing over their daughter. 

“She’s so precious! How old is she?” one of them asked.

“Ah, almost eight months,” Harry replied bashfully, petting down the tuft of brown curls at the top of Clementine’s head. Y/N clenched her jaw. Why had he taken her hat off? It was supposed to protect her from the rain! 

“So sweet,” the other woman grinned, reaching out to thumb over Clementine’s puffy cheek. The vision sent a pang of jealousy through Y/N’s chest — her baby wasn’t some kind of doll that anyone could just touch! Clutching the produce and container of milk in her hands, Y/N all but marched over to the stroller and threw them in the bottom compartment. 

“Ready to go, honey?” 

Harry blinked at Y/N, a world of confusion swirling in the green eyes he shared with his daughter. She stayed silent and still, knuckles white from gripping the stroller handle so tightly. 

“Yeah,” he finally replied, leaning down to gently place Clementine back in her seat, “This is Y/N, Clementine’s mum.”

“Oh, your baby is so sweet! Harry was just raving about you!” one of the women nearly squealed. Y/N smiled tightly as she watched him buckle Clementine in.

“Okay, say bye bye, Clem,” Harry murmured. They’d been trying to teach her how to wave hello and goodbye, but Y/N would rather scoop her own eyeballs out than watch her do it for the first time with these women. 

In fact, she was already pushing the stroller down the end of the aisle before they could even get the word “bye” out.

Since that day about two weeks ago, it’s been constantly replaying in the back of Y/N’s brain. Even though Harry didn’t think much of it (she knows this because he immediately started talking about nonsense on the walk home), for the first time, it plucked at a chord of insecurity that she didn’t even know she had. She’d always felt fairly secure in her relationship with Harry — he’d all but begged her for this life together, and he’d been incredibly involved from the moment she got pregnant — so how is that two random strangers at the supermarket tore this out of her? 

It bothered her so deeply to the point where she did something she’d never done before: Ask Lea for relationship advice. 

“In the years I’ve known you, you have never asked me for help with a man,” Lea had said, her eyebrows raised so high they nearly met her hairline. Y/N grumbled as she wrapped her hand around her matcha, avoiding eye contact with her friend. She’d been able to sneak out for an afternoon coffee date with her while Harry took Clementine to the park. “You’re always so… sure of yourself. And you have a literal child with Harry. What gives?”

Y/N shrugged as she rubbed her lips together nervously. “You should’ve seen the way those girls were all over him. It was… gross.”

“It’s normal to feel jealous, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“I am not jealous,” she muttered, “I just… he introduced me as Clementine’s mom. Don’t you think I’m a bit… more than that to him?”

“Of course you are. But you’ve never had that conversation, have you?”

“Like you said, we have a baby together. What else could you need?”

Lea smirked, “That’s all that you need. But he probably needs a bit more confirmation than that.”

Y/N bristled as she stuck her straw between her lips, taking a long sip. 

“He knows we’re in a relationship, doesn’t he?” 

“I don’t know,” she replied honestly, “Dom and I used to hear all the gossip about you two before Clem was born, but since then, I think he’s just been focused on making sure you and her are both taken care of.”

“So what do I do?” Y/N asked through a sigh, leaning back against the worn leather of the booth. 

“Talk to him,” Lea said easily, “But… maybe don’t do it in your rough-and-tough-Y/N way. Maybe… make it a little special. He likes that, y’know? Little romantic gestures?”

Y/N scrunched her face. Lea was right — Harry was all about the little things, like surprising her with flowers or waking her up with breakfast in bed on the weekends. And while Y/N was positive she didn’t have a romantic bone in her body, she’d certainly attempt to find one if it meant making Harry happy. 

. . .

A few days later, Harry walks into his shared apartment with Y/N to the scent of something delicious. 

“Y/N?” he calls as he toes his shoes off in the entryway. They weren’t due for company, were they? He doesn’t think so, but with eight months straight of four to five hours of sleep each night, he had trouble remembering anything that wasn’t Clementine-related. 

He follows the fragrance into the kitchen, where Y/N is standing over the stove, stirring a bubbling pot of some sort of sauce. She jumps, hand over her heart, when he goes to greet her. 

“Jesus fuck, you scared me!” she exclaims, the wooden spoon nearly clattering to the floor. He smirks and lets out an amused laugh as he walks towards her, observing the array of pans on the stovetop. 

“What’s all this for?” he asks. Y/N presses a hand to his muscular chest and attempts to block him from seeing anything. 

“I’m making you dinner,” she mumbles, nibbling on her bottom lip, “Clem’s with my sister for the night.”

“Oh?”

She nods. 

“Did I forget a special occasion?”

She shakes her head.

“Then how come I’m getting spoiled tonight?”

Her cheeks warm at that, but they both pretend her blush is invisible. “I just wanted to do something… romantic for you.” 

“Romantic?” he repeats the word like it’s a bizarre concept and it makes a pit form in Y/N’s stomach, “That’s… sweet of you. Thank you.”

She nods, albeit a bit robotically. “Um. Yeah. It’ll be ready in like 5 minutes.”

“Sounds good,” he replies, “Do you want me to set the table?”

She shakes her head bashfully and Harry raises an eyebrow. “I already did that.”

Her demure nature makes a smile form at the edges of his lips and he reaches out to press a hand to her hip, squeezing gently. 

“Y’okay?” he asks softly, tilting his head to look at her. “You seem nervous.”

Y/N shrugs and it supplies him with a tepid answer. “I just wanna make this nice for you.”

His heart breaks a bit at that and he ducks lower to catch her lips in a short, sweet kiss. PDA isn’t irregular for them — not with touch being Harry’s primary love language — so it’s unsurprising to be on the receiving end of one of his dizzying kisses, even if it ends quicker than she’d like. 

“This is already so special to me. I do miss Clem, though.”

She snorts at that as he brushes his nose against hers. “Of course you do. She’s your mini me.”

“Except when she’s making that grumpy little face. That’s all you.”

Y/N lightly bats at his chest before mumbling out to go sit down in the dining room. 

Harry’s eyes widen when he sees the candlelit table — he can’t remember the last time they ate on actual plates, always opting for take-out containers or paper plates for the sake of convenience. He swallows as he sits down and listens to Y/N shuffle around the kitchen. He hears her curse, followed by what sounds like her emptying pasta into a colander — she always burns herself whenever she does that, and he can envision the slight grimace that appears on her face. 

Just as he’s getting antsy and preparing himself to ask if she needs any help, Y/N appears from the kitchen with a big bowl of pasta. She nibbles on her bottom lip as she places it on the table, then stands up straight. She looks like a soldier waiting to be told to return to their duties.

“Um… I made us that roasted red pepper pasta you like.” she says, wringing her hands out in front of her. “I hope that’s fine.”

“That’s great,” Harry nods, gesturing to the seat across from him, “Sit down. You look like you’re gonna have an aneurysm. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes,” Y/N grumbles as she sits down, and the sound of her grouchy voice makes him chuckle as he grabs her bowl to serve her, “I know I’m not, like… the most romantic person, or even the easiest person to be around, so it’s important to me that I make this really good for you.”

“I hate when you say that,” he murmurs before placing her full bowl in front of her. He moves to serve himself, “You’re the easiest person I’ve ever been around. You’re a great mum and I love being a parent with you.”

Y/N swallows as she listens to him, leaving her food untouched. He watches her and takes a bite of his pasta, chewing slowly. 

“Is that… all I am to you?” she asks softly with low eyes. Harry furrows his eyebrows.

“What do you mean?”

“Like… am I still just a co-parent to you?” 

He sets his fork down and uses his napkin to wipe his mouth. “Well, we never really talked about it, I guess. But you know you’re more than that to me.”

“You’re more than just Clem’s dad to me,” she continues. “And it kinda hurt my feelings when you introduced me to those girls as ‘Clementine’s mom’ a few weeks back.”

Harry raises his eyebrows, “Oh. I didn’t think anything of it.”

“I know.”

His heart strains at the thought of hurting her feelings, but he also knows that what happened in the supermarket was weeks ago. Had she been sitting on it and thinking about it all this time?

“I never want to make you uncomfortable, Y/N. To be honest, I don’t know how to refer to you but… I’d say you’re my partner, yeah? You’re my teammate in raising our beautiful girl and I love getting to live life with you.”

Her heart thumps rapidly in her chest. “But what if… what if you called me your girlfriend, too?”

Harry’s silent for a moment. He reaches out to place his hand on her knee, squeezing softly.

“Would you want that?” he asks. “I’ll only do it if that’s what you want.”

She looks up at him and nods. Her eyes are glassy and it makes Harry’s chest tighten. Suddenly, he needs to be closer to her, so he stands up and scoops her into his arms. At first she rejects his touch, mumbling out sentiments about still having postpartum weight, but Harry shushes her and pulls her into his lap. 

“Tell me what you’re feeling, Y/N.” he murmurs. He leans up and presses a chaste kiss to the side of her neck. She shivers and he keeps his hands as solid anchors on her hips. 

“I want you to call me your girlfriend,” she says, lifting her gaze to look at him. “I don’t want you to entertain any other person or let them flirt with you or touch our baby. I just want it to be the three of us, always.”

If Harry’s being honest, he would have been content with living in this gray, in-between area with Y/N for the rest of their lives. He was happy — so incredibly happy to be in her life, to sleep next to her every night, to raise a gorgeous baby girl with her. He felt fortunate to be there for every moment, good and bad — but he would be a liar if he said he hadn’t been waiting for the day where she told him what was really going on in that pretty head of hers.

He presses a chaste kiss to her temple. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings,” he says quietly, soft fingertips smoothing over the expanse of her hip, “You’re my girlfriend, okay? Not just Clemmie’s mum. You’re so much more than that.”

She nods her head and Harry smiles gently at how flustered she continues to be — it’s a side of her that he rarely sees, and the sight makes a low chuckle sound from deep in his chest. 

“You’re silly,” he mumbles against the shell of her ear. “Isn’t that what you are? A silly baby desperate to be mine?”

Y/N bristles and swallows harshly, keeping her gaze low in his lap. His smirk only grows as he begins to press slow kisses along her jaw and down to her neck. Her eyes flutter closed. 

“Everyone thinks you’re this pretty, grumpy girl, but I know better than that,” he continues, sliding his hands beneath her tee-shirt to feel her warm skin, “You’re loving and kind. The best mum I’ve ever seen. The best partner and the best girlfriend, too. Isn’t that right, mama?”

She gasps wetly and he feels her thighs threaten to clench, but his hips prevent her from getting any relief. He hums, satisfied with her response and, in a quick movement, pulls her shirt from her body and tosses it to the floor. Her swollen breasts sit prettily on her chest and he tries his best not to groan at the sight. 

“Don’t tease,” she mewls. He chuckles as she grasps at the fabric of his own tee-shirt, the soft material in the tight clutch of her knuckles. 

“Need me to fill you up?” he asks, though he knows the answer is an obvious and resounding yes. They haven’t had actual sex in at least a month, not with Clementine occupying 99% of their time. Even if he’s attempting to play it cool, his cock is hard and throbbing beneath layers of his clothing. He swears he can even feel the warmth of her pussy through her own clothes and it’s taking everything in him not to thrust up and grind against her. 

“Yes,” Y/N pants, shaky fingers digging beneath the waistband of his trousers to pull his length out, “S-stop playing around. You know it’s been too long.”

Harry laughs lowly and lifts his hips up to grant her enough space so she can retrieve his cock. She doesn’t even bother pushing his pants or briefs down, swallowing tightly at the sight of the ruddy tip already leaking with pre-cum. 

“Relax, baby,” he mumbles, grabbing one of her trembling hands and intertwining their fingers together, “Breathe, yeah? I’ll take care of my girl.”

Her pussy clenches at that — my girl — and she nibbles on her bottom lip eagerly when he pushes her soft shorts to the side to reveal her pussy. He wishes he had more willpower to look at what he’s been missing out on and his throat bobs when his eyes flicker down to the puffy clit tucked between her lips. He thinks they’ll both explode if he doesn’t get inside of her in the next two seconds, so he gives his cock a pump before he positions himself beneath her and slowly pushes in. 

Immediately, she whimpers out and he stalls, his free hand pressing rigidly into the skin of her thigh. 

“Y’alright?” 

“Yeah,” she whispers, “Tight fit.”

“I know.” he mutters, glancing up at her to read her expression. “Do you need me to pull out?”

She instantly shakes her head, “No, no. Keep going.”

Harry leans up to seal their lips in a messy, wet kiss as he continues pushing in as slowly as he can. He supposes he should’ve spent more time stretching her out, but if there’s one thing he’s learned about Y/N over the past year, it’s that she’s always eager and ever determined to take him, even if it’s been weeks since their last time together.

When he’s finally all the way in, his balls snug against her bum, their kiss slows, though it doesn’t seem like Y/N has any plans to separate their mouths. He doesn’t move a muscle, even if he knows his cock is throbbing from the tightness of her pussy. And then, after what seems like an eternity, she nods.

Slowly, he begins to fuck up inside of her and breathy moans depart from her swollen lips. Harry’s mouth catches each one, punctuating every whimper with a gentle peck. 

“There you go, mama, take my cock. You’re doing so good, aren’t you?”

She only responds with a lilting whimper and he moans, feeling the way her pussy clenches around his length. It’s not the dirtiest sex they’ve had — not by a long shot — but god, if it doesn’t feel incredible knowing that they’re completely devoted to one another.

“You make me feel so good,” she mewls, making his eyes nearly roll back, “I love your cock— ‘s so good, Harry, want— want you to give me another baby.”

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, squeezing her hips hard, “Can’t just fucking say that stuff, baby. I’ll bust before you even cum.”

“D-don’t care,” she shudders, but he can tell she’s reaching her peak by the way her thighs begin to tremble, each of her muscles tightening. “Cum inside me, m-make me a mommy again.”

His chest vibrates with a deep groan and he reaches between them to pinch at her pearly clit, rubbing it in quick, tight circles. He’s seconds away from bursting himself, but he refuses to finish before she has a chance to. 

It barely takes a few loops around the bundle of nerves before she’s shaking in his lap, her pussy tensing around his length as she moans out his name over and over again. It’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard and he presses his forehead against her sweaty shoulder, shuddering as her orgasm triggers his own. As requested, he pumps his cock deep inside of her as he comes, pushing his seed as far as it’ll go. She whimpers from the sensation as pants fall from her lips, shivering every time he thrusts another rope of cum into her.

They’re both shaking by the time both of their orgasms taper off. Harry wraps his arms around her sweaty form, pulling her chest against his. 

“You’re mine, yeah?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “You and Clem. We’re a family.”

Y/N nods, echoing his words. “Yours.”

They settle into a comfortable silence; Harry’s softening cock still inside. He’s unsure of how how long they stay there, but he does know that they’ll have to move eventually so he can clean her up. It’s only then that she sits up to look at him, her eyes soft and tired. 

“Harry?”

“Yeah?” 

“Will you get me Plan B tomorrow?” she asks, biting her lip. “I think Clem is… more than enough for me right now.”

He laughs and nods his head. 

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’ll pick some up for you tomorrow.”

[pucksandpower]

if requests are open, can I pls request baby vettel telling her brothers (the grid kids) she has a "boyfriend" when she comes home from kindergarten one day ??? if requests are closed, please ignore 💗 love your works so much !!

Grid Kids: Cooties

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: the grid kids take being big brothers very seriously

Series Masterlist

“No.”

Max’s voice is firm, his face aghast.

Charles, sitting next to him, nods in agreement. “I thought we agreed that you’re not allowed to date until you’re 40?”

Your daughter looks up from her crayon artwork, her little brows furrowing. “But Tommy said we’re boy ... boyfr …”

Lance interrupts, “Boyfriend and girlfriend? No, no, no. Absolutely not.”

George chimes in, holding up a toy car, “Tell whoever this Tommy is that you’re too busy racing to have a boyfriend.”

Lando adds, “Besides, boyfriends mean cooties. Do you want cooties?”

She tilts her head, pondering the dire consequences of these so-called cooties.

Charles, trying to be the voice of reason, kneels down to her level. “Sweetie, you’re a smart, wonderful little girl. And Tommy is, well ... you can do better.”

Mick, watching the entire exchange, laughs. “Guys, she’s just a kid. They’re probably just sharing crayons.”

Lando looks scandalized, “Crayons today, hearts tomorrow. It’s a slippery slope!”

Sebastian, watching the overprotective madness unfold, turns to you with a smirk, “I think our daughter has a solid set of bodyguards.”

You laugh, wrapping an arm around him. “Good luck to any actual future boyfriends.”

Your daughter simply shrugs, scribbles something on a piece of paper, and hands it to Charles. “For Tommy.”

Charles reads aloud, “We can be friends. But no cooties. Okay?”

***

The next day after school, Max bends down to your daughter’s eye level, “Now, which one is Tommy?”

She points a tiny finger to a little boy playing with a toy car on the playground. He has sandy hair and an innocent expression as he makes car noises.

Lando claps his hands together, “Alright, mates, game faces.”

George rolls his eyes but can’t help his grin, “Really? We’re really doing this?”

Lance nudges him, “We have to ensure he’s good enough for our sister!”

As the grid kids approach Tommy, he looks up, wide-eyed at the small army of grown-ups marching towards him.

Charles squats down, “Hey there, buddy. You Tommy?”

Tommy nods slowly, clutching his toy car.

George, leaning down too, tries to sound stern, “We heard you’re, uh, dating our sister.”

Lando, animatedly acting out air quotes around the word dating, adds, “We just wanted to have a quick chat.”

Mick, clearly finding the whole situation hilarious, jumps in, “You know, about intentions and all.”

Tommy blinks, “Inten-what?”

Max clears his throat, “Look, Tommy, we just want to make sure you’re treating our sister right. No stealing her toys or snacks.”

Lando jumps in again, “And absolutely no cooties. We had a long talk about that.”

Tommy nods fervently, “I don’t have cooties!”

Charles chuckles, “Good to know. So, you’ll play nice with her?”

Tommy nods again, “I promise. I just wanted to show her my new car.” He holds up the toy proudly.

George pats him on the head awkwardly, “Alright, Tommy. Just remember, we’re watching you.”

***

“Operation Sneaky Sneak is a go. Over,” Lando whispers dramatically into his walkie-talkie from his hiding spot behind a bush.

“Copy that,” George responds, trying to peer into Tommy’s living room window from a tree branch, “They’re ... playing with dolls? Oh, and there are some cookies. Over.”

Lance, hidden behind a garden gnome, chimes in, “I hope they're chocolate chip. Over.”

Charles, from his spot on top of a garden shed, adds, “No visual on any suspicious activities. Just some Barbies about to get the worst haircut of their life. Over.”

Mick, wedged between two trash cans, mutters, “Feels like we’re in a bad spy movie.”

Max, crouching behind a car, counters, “Feels? We ARE in a bad spy movie.”

Suddenly, the back door to Tommy’s house swings open and out step his parents, chatting and laughing. The grid kids freeze.

George, panicking, whispers into the walkie-talkie, “Abort mission! I repeat, abort!”

Lance tries to slink away, “Going dark! Going dark! We have been compromised.”

But it’s too late. Tommy’s mother spots them. “Um, gentlemen? What are you doing?”

Charles attempts to play it cool, “Oh, you know, just ... birdwatching. Beautiful sparrows around here.”

Tommy’s father suppresses a grin, “In our backyard? With walkie-talkies?”

Lando, thinking on his feet, responds, “Modern birdwatching. Very high tech. Over.”

Mick gives him a look, “Did you seriously just say over out loud?”

Max tries to salvage the situation, “We just wanted to ensure the playdate went ... smoothly.”

Tommy’s parents burst into laughter. “You guys really care about her, huh?”

Before anyone can respond, there’s a rustling from above. Thunk! “Ow!” Thwack! “Not the face!” Crash! “My hair!”

Everyone’s attention is immediately drawn to George who has dramatically fallen out of the tree, hitting almost every branch on the way down.

Rubbing his back, George groans from where he’s splayed on the ground, “Guess I should leave the climbing to the kids.”

Tommy’s mother takes pity on the fully grown children masquerading as adults in front of her, “Would any of you like to come in for juice boxes?”

The grid kids exchange sheepish glances. “Yes, please,” they reply in unison.

[chaedomi]

JEWEL OF OBELIA

SUMMARY . to them you were a jewel, precious and highly valuable. they, in turn, will express their strong emotions toward you, even if it means resorting to... more hostile methods.

CHARACTERS . ATHANASIA / CLAUDE DE ALGER OBELIA

WARNINGS . YANDERE, female reader, platonic, ooc, violence, death, suicide, unhealthy relationships (if i missed any, kindly alert me)

WORDCOUNT . 1.7k+ / MASTERLIST.

LETTERS . why have all the readers in my manhwa fics originally died so far... anyway, can you tell where i started losing motivation?

IN THE novel, Lovely Princess, the story went like this. True to its title, the book contained Lovely Princesses. There was The First Princess, akin to the moon, who held a gloomy and foggy disposition. Then came The Second Princess, resembling the sun, bright and cheery. And finally, The Third Princess, similar to the stars, was reserved but gentle and a source of comfort.

You were… The First Princess’s younger half-sister. Although your mother was unknown (you were found inside a basket in the gardens crying) those jeweled eyes and your uncanny appearance close to The Emperor were solid proof that you were in fact of royal blood. It was… certainly strange to learn that the book entailed you as an 'unimportant' character. While The Second Princess was adored by the whole continent, the love the people harbored for you, The Third Princess, could put The Second Princess to shame. They treated you as though you were some supreme gift bestowed from the heavens, to be treasured and pampered. And among those who glorified you… was your father, The Cold-Hearted Emperor. You were like The Protagonist more than The Second Princess could ever be.

You were also… the best sister anyone could ask for to The First Princess. Because The First Princess was deprived of affection in her life, she mostly relied on you to fill the gaps in her heart. And you endearingly did so, trying your best to shine a light inside her darkness. It soon became that you both were inseparable, attached by the hip.

…So, obviously, you will spiral down into despair over The First Princess's death. You knew The First Princess was innocent of The Second Princess's poisoning. She was simply too sweet to commit a vile act, especially when she too took a liking to The Second Princess. But, alas, your reasoning went through one ear and out the other, and without proper evidence, your father executed The First Princess.

However, just as The Emperor's wrath was not to be underestimated, so was the extent of your grief as you promptly took away your life hours after The First Princess's execution. And that was the sad ending of your story, The Third Princess.

HOW WAS THAT ANY FAIR??? The confusion of the roles and the cheesy plotline were already bad enough on their own, but your unnecessary death pretty much destroyed the chances of her leaving a positive review. Was it done to reestablish the fact you were an unimportant character, or to remind everyone that The Second Princess is the original best girl in the story…? No amount of copious explanations can ever make ATHANASIA understand the validation for your death.

What she can come to understand however is that you, out of all people, did NOT deserve to die. You had all the rights to receive a happy ending just like The Second Princess… and that is what she aspired to make a reality as she was tossed into the fantasy world of the novel. It was obvious that it all went to hell when The First Princess was executed at the hands of The Emperor. So, in order to avoid your death, she will have to avoid hers first.

A genius plan, she dubbed it, stealing various riches from the Ruby Palace to live the rest of her life on as she escapes. She also thought of the brilliant idea of taking you along with her, after all, being inside the palace is kind of… the reason for your death, was it not!? Why not avoid the source altogether!? Or… that is what was supposed to happen before she accidentally stumbled across The Emperor four years early. Now, she will have to scrap that genius plan. Damn…

On a bright note, as time passed, using an alternative plan, Athanasia eventually evaded all chances of earning death at the hands of her father. This means that you too won’t have a pitiful ending as you originally did! Yay!

You truly didn’t deserve to die, and Athanasia will keep on saying it as much as needed. The years she spent beside you as your sister, further strengthened her motivation to keep you alive. She also understood why The First Princess had a strong attachment toward you. Innocent, Pure, Patient, Merciful, and Kind… who wouldn’t swoon over a person with such admirable traits? What struck her heart the way it did, was your affection. In her previous life, Athanasia… didn’t have people around her to provide her with love.

So, it surprised her a lot when it happened. Sure, she had love from her Nanny and the rest of the maids, but yours had her heart pumping, energy rushing through her veins. It was warm… a feeling she wanted to cling to for an eternity. Was it silly that she felt envious of a fictional character? To think that The First Princess was subjected to this kind of treatment from you… How did it feel to live her dream? Not that it matters anymore. Now, she can have you to all herself! You wouldn’t mind if she got a little… greedy, right? Of course, you won’t! After all, if you learned of her tremendous effort to keep you safe, why wouldn’t you reward her with more of your presence? What she does is in your favor. So, don’t get too upset if what she does seems a bit extreme, alright? It’s all for your benefit.

Betrayal can hurt. But, betrayal stings when it comes from the person you trusted and loved the most. You didn’t understand why it had upset her more than it upsetted you. More so, if she was so against the idea, why hadn’t she said so first? She was supportive about it too, choosing to help pick out a perfect disguise for your outing in the town. So why was it that on the day you were about to leave, lo and behold, there was your father by your doorway, inclusive of his knight… and your sister beside him, smiling triumphantly? Maybe if you had paid attention to how the shine left your sister’s eyes as you told her of your plan, you could have avoided such a dreadful punishment.

What bugged you the most was how Athanasia carried out her day normally, and acted sweetly to you, as if she didn’t partially contribute to the punishment of breaking your legs. Today was no different, as she sat on the chair beside your bed rambling on about her day. “You know, that’s the most I’ve seen Daddy upset.” She laughed, tracing her finger down your legs. “Usually, he would never dream of even hurting a strand of your hair. What you’ve done was really bad…”

She smiled at you, her jeweled eyes looking all the more terrifying under the dark lighting in your room. “I don’t understand. I should feel despaired seeing my sister in so much pain. Why does it bring me so much relief?” She sighed, holding one of your hands in hers. “...You scared me terribly with what you told me earlier. My mind couldn’t stop focusing on the many possibilities that would arise with you out there. Even worse, what if they learned of your true identity, and an enemy nearby attacks you?”

“I agreed with your plan, solely to avoid trouble. If I said no, you would have avoided me, right? I… don’t ever want to see you in danger, or place you in it, knowing I could have done something to prevent it. Not like anything like that will happen anytime soon!” She gently poked your injured legs. “I will help ensure that too.” You didn’t realize that the tears building in your eyes began to fall, your sister’s fingers quickly working to wipe them away.

In the novel, CLAUDE naturally favored you more than The First Princess. Upon your first encounter during the festival on The First Princess’s ninth birthday, with an outstretched hand, he escorted you back to the party, leaving your older sister in the dust. You lived a rather lavish life after that, him spoiling you with exquisite goods. So, it’s not like you had to form some extreme plan like Athanasia to protect yourself from the dangers that lurked inside the palace. Everyone here adored you…

Yet, not only did Athanasia’s interference with the plotline create many changes for her, but it also resulted in triggering unsettling events for you. Now that The Cold-Hearted Emperor has learned to display affection for the firstborn he originally detested, where would that place you, the daughter he always loved?

…His methods were very much frightening, even traumatizing, you may add. The numerous times you witnessed something gruesome to the eye, for the littlest offenses toward you. He would imprison, he would murder, he would execute, all in your name. His presence too, was very much suffocating, more than Athanasia, and that spoke volumes.

You hated how they both attached themselves to you, but, if you had to choose, you would pick Athanasia in a heartbeat. For the cold jeweled eyes that scrutinized every movement you made were too much for your poor heart to endure. It was as though he was waiting, waiting for your slip-up, to gain a perfect reason to permanently confine you behind the walls of your bedroom. And you fear… that the day you kissed your freedom goodbye was approaching quicker than you initially anticipated.

“What will it take for you to treat me as normally as the rest?” the (h.c) haired girl wept, clutching on tightly her father’s robes. “Shall I become like my sister, Athanasia? If I do… will I become like a free bird, and be granted more privileges?” grief-stricken jeweled eyes peered up at her father. “Will you finally release me from the shackles you trapped me in?”

“Do what you want,” her father smirked. but, as quickly as her hope came so was it shattered. the piercing concept. his voice in her ears was the cruelest of them all. “Such a thing won’t happen till the day I perish.” what a terrible vow. she knew he would do anything in his power to maintain his promise. and so, the deepest of despair like never before flooded her eyes. what have you done to receive this…?

you were very precious. nothing, not even the rarest pieces in the world could be compared to you; you were the highest value among them all. for all, it was a high requirement to treat you with the utmost importance and respect. yes, to them, to everyone, you were, the jewel of obelia.

©chaedomi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.

[hydraflow]

MDNI | demon!Ren has me in chokehold QvQ.

HEADCANONS LISTED BELOW:

- He was obsessed with Angel ever since they first met right after his initial creation/birth (i’ll leave the reason why up to your creativity), and made it his goal to make a pact in every single one of Angel’s lives

- Angel’s soul and demon!Ren’s existence are quite LITERALLY linked together by the red thread of fate because of how many times they’ve contracted (to Ren’s delight)

- Souls don’t reincarnate immediately and instead have a few decades (or upwards) between their last death and next life, so demon!Ren has A LOT of time to kill where he’s just moping about, waiting around for Angel to return. He ends up messing with cultists who try to summon demons as a pass time though.

- Sometimes Angel’s soul is solid enough after passing on from their most recent life, that it is able to sustain itself in ghost-like state and just chills with demon!Ren until they reincarnate again. During this state, Angel regains memory of all their past selves and is able to recount older memories with demon!Ren, so it’s just a good time overall

- Speaking of, demon!Ren has never made a pact with anyone OTHER than Angel

- Pact marks or contract seals between demons and humans never disappear once made, so he likes to admire and trace over each mark when sometimes missing Angel in between their reincarnation periods

- demon!Ren can see the shape of every individual human soul so as to see who is easier to corrupt and make contracts with etc., which is how they can tell when they have FINALLY reunited with Angel >:3

- Has seen MANY different versions of Angel, and has loved them all equally (be it platonically or romantically depending on Angel’s preferences during each life)

- Made a deal with Angel’s soul early on in his existence (though reluctantly since he wanted Angel to continue enjoying living in the human world as a regular being, but ultimately caved at the request of Angel), in which once he makes a pact with Angel over the course of a thousand lives, they can finally live together in the Underworld forever, both as demons and get their « Happily Ever After » QwQ

[route-to-eutopia-if]

Route to Eutopia - New WIP IF

DEMO(28K) I CHARACTER DOSSIERS I PLAYLIST (TBA)

You have one year left to live.

But are you afraid of dying? Probably not. Since you don’t even know how to live your life. You have been hidden away from public eye since young. And the only friend you have is an Alter, humanoid species born to only serve other people and nothing else. Alters live so ‘people like you’ could live.

That makes the two of you. Alive. But never here. Never lived.

If opportunities arise, would you take a chance to change it? Only you can answer.

In a world where feeling nothing at all is better than letting your emotions rule over you, your choice to break those rules and make a change will paint a new shade of history that no one ever could. 

Hidden behind shut doors to live your quiet life as a secret child of Bastien Palmer, Sole Leader of Eutopia paradise, you never experience anything except for repeating the same old routine your entire life. You are the existence which should not be known, not just for the reason that you are the byproduct of your father and his secret lover. But also because of your frightening ‘Alter-like’ eye color, most of it is silver like any Stargaze–but nevertheless… tinted shamefully by crimson streaks.

You are told to stay away from public eyes for the sake of Palmer’s reputation in which you feel obliged to. However, your life of peaceful solitude will never be the same again after tonight…

Route to Eutopia is a violent dystopian loosely-conceptual interactive story where you are a bystander surrounded by The Chosen One of your own choice. You are to designate whether this story will head towards the direction of mutual peace between Alters– a human-like species believed to be plagued by uncured disease since birth– and Stargazers —a group of survivors whose ancestors once lived on a faraway planet before an inevitable disaster occurred and forced them to flee into another dimension, or towards a doom fate that cannot be reversible.

To be noted; RtE is a heavily-relationship based game (not necessarily in platonic/romantic sense) each of your interactions with any character will determine the tone and purpose of their motivation. Any choice you have chosen, make sure to embrace the consequences of your action at your own expense.

With that being said, it is also worth mentioning that you don’t need to engage into a romance or specific relationship with any character to complete the story.

RtE also rated 18+ for strong language, suggestive contents, disturbing topics such as racism, sexism, discrimination against queer people, explicit descriptions of violence, murders, drug use and sexual behaviors of certain characters with optional intercourse scenes.

Setting

RtE takes place in a post-apocalypse society where the concept of time is lost and any history known was only speculations at best and rumour at worst. Trying to maintain their sense of utopia, Stargazers built and operated their space colony as a temporary base for self-preservation (in which only fews know details about) called ‘Eutopia’. 

In this dystopian paradise people’s sole purpose of living was fixated on surviving. And in order to do that, the whole population creates a solid ground rule not to let themselves ‘feel’ about other emotions that do not serve for public favors. Hence, you will be challenged to adapt to several situations and handpick the best flavor of your actions based on the emotions you have learnt or developed from your surroundings.

Who do you play as?

For now, you will be playing as a secret child of Bastien Palmer, the leader of Stargazers who already has a wife and two other perfect children, your younger sister and brother. Ones you have never interacted with nor you ever get the chance to.

MCs subjectively considered a white sheet which you can paint anything on by your preferences. Explore the world full of colorful emotions or bottomless pit of numbness by your own choices. 

But remember, Eutopia is a place where everything goes according to one simple rule ‘To survive’ hence the marriage between a man and woman will be set as the norm and only truth, and someone who will state otherwise must face and suffer the ugliness of social standards accordingly. However, I do not encourage any transphobic/homophobic behavior of the characters in this story. Please kindly be assured of that.

There might be a chance where you can start off as other characters, that is, however, still a subject-to-change matter as of now.

Introduction to the Chosen Ones [ ROs]

**Please be aware of mild spoilers below**

Vegaris (M/F) 19 Star-crossed lovers or Nemesis route, The Rebel.

They would do anything to survive, even if it means to betray the only person who trusts them deeply… like you.

Vegaris is an Alter who has so many sides hidden behind closed doors. Unpredictable, cunning, hot and cold are the words that describe them best. Due to their traumatic childhood (much like other Alters on Eutopia), they have a deep-root hatred for Stargazers. Although they were brought in by your family and treated almost the same as one of your father’s own kids. They still witness the unfairness of being an Alter in society and never afraid to point the wrong in other people’s doings. 

Their usual mask, however, is one where you cannot crack open that easily. They always remain calm and composed in front of you, and only show their fangs when circumstances arise.

Dana/Darren Regency (M/F) 22 Childhood friends, Forbidden route, The Face.

For a person who seems to be easy to read as much as an open-book, they sure talk with silence better than with their own voice.

A poster girl/boy for Regency Academy. Your former childhood friend (for some unknown reason, they're trying their hardest to avoid you) and an only child to the Head of Deans at Regency, Sandalphon. They are the precise image of how one should raise a Stargazer. Being a honor student. A model citizen. And a perfect ideal partner. They are assigned to be married with the most capable genetic-wise fiancé. As popular as they appear to be to the public, their private life (as private as it can be) is still a gigantic loophole for most imprudent reporters trying to catch even just a glimpse.

It seems like what they are trying to avoid is not just you, but the entirety of Eutopia.

Sandalphon Regency (M/F) 40 Age-difference, Single-parent route, The Pacifist.

Do you believe in something just because it's true, or it becomes the truth only when you believe in it?

Sandalphon is the most powerful influence among the deans of Regency. A group of people that has control over governing matters even beyond that of Bastien Palmer, the President. For Sandal, they are anything and everything people could ever ask for in a Regency. Kind, generous, well-versed with every branch of knowledge in the universe. Never wrong in anything. And never judge anyone based on their bias.

If only people knew the truth, they’d probably beg to differ.

Maybe they are just good at hiding beneath that gentle facade, maybe a calculated mind with strings to pull works best with neutral suggestions... who knows?

One more hidden character will be revealed in the demo, Into the Madness route, The Savior.

[ Classified info. ]

**There will be two sub ROs and flings to be introduced later in the story.**

More info will be announced.

Demo 1st update : 24/01/2024 Chapter 1 (28k codes excluded)

Datalog is completed roughly til the end of the story. Coding and polishing will certainly take time. Any more updates will be announced solely on this blog.

Reblogging is appreciated. Thank you!

[spacedace]

Snippet/prolog thing from a DP x DC fic that lives almost entirely inside my head outside of this & a few other bits.

Please feel free to take this as an overly long prompt haha

If anyone wants context to this let me know and I'll be happy to info dump at you lol

-

The kid had been eleven the first time John Constantine met her.

A little ghost girl, too small for the crowns and dominions that were rightfully hers, wandering the world alone and unattended because to stay in one place would drive her mad - or worse. He didn’t think himself as having a particularly soft heart, but there was something about little Stella Phantom that grew on him - a bit like a mold, he liked to explain. Maybe it was the way she swore like a sailor and kicked a demon in the low hangers with a feral grin the first time he met her. Maybe it was just how lonely she looked, small and slight in the large world she was so obsessed with exploring.

She had a family. A Grave of her own that worried about her, but who couldn’t follow her on her constant travels no matter how much they wanted to. Proof that being some of the most powerful beings in existence wasn’t enough to prepare you for parenthood.

Somewhere along the lines she started following John around. Interested in what he was doing, where he was going, who he worked with. It hadn’t taken long to get her folded into JL Dark. Zantanna had blanched when he’d shown up with little Elle, pulling in the big wigs from JL Light to argue about the ethics of involving a child in their work. As if Supes and the Bat had legs to stand on with their own brood so often in the thick of danger. Elle was safer under his watch than she’d be under the loose oversight the Titans had or whatever fresh hell was going on with Young Justice but hell if anyone would listen to him on that front.

He lost the war when she met Superboy Jr. and Robin V.

She’d adored them from the start, delighted at having children her own age around to spend time with. They formed a little team, working together here and there, then more often as they got older. She still worked mostly with JL Dark, but she was growing up. Spreading her wings a bit.

Elle was seventeen when the Bonds first formed. The spider-silk thin threads finally winding themselves into the heavy binds that spilled out of her Core and reached out for anchoring in the boys. It was sickeningly sweet, in the way puppy love always was. She was too young for Core Bonds like that to settle, of course, in the way children were always too young when they fell in love the first time. It was normal though. Ghost children the Realms over made Bonds only for them to fade or change as they grew, almost never anchoring to anyone til they were full grown.

She’d blushed as red as Marvel’s suit when she realized John could see them, stuttering and embarrassed. He’d teased her about it for a long time, about how much she’d grown up, how much trouble she was going to cause, how he was going to have to fight the big bad Bat and his pet boy scout when she inevitably dishonored their poor, innocent sons. It was entertaining, endearing.

He waited for the Bonds to fade or shift. Weeks. Months. Years. As she turned nineteen, he started to wonder if they would stick around. If in another few years they might strengthen, begin the slow process of anchoring.

She was twenty-one when her boys - calling themselves Flamebird and Phoenix now - started dating each other.

The Bonds remained, steady and solid and painfully unanchored.

John stopped teasing her about them.

They hadn’t changed to accommodate platonic bonds, nor had they faded any. Their tendency to tangle around her like snare was another point of concern. Core Bonds weren’t meant to cause difficulty for the ghost they were born from, and they certainly weren’t meant to wrap around the ghost’s limbs and body in painful loops like that. They weren’t supposed to hurt.

When she was twenty three he started suggesting it might be time for intervention. The irony that he of all people would be trying to get someone to take steps to cut out the thing harming them was not lost on him. Nor was the way the fond feelings he had for the girl had skewed decisively paternal over the years in a way that his younger self would have mocked him for endlessly.

He felt better about broaching the subject knowing that her Grave had been suggesting the same thing. That he wasn’t overstepping the bounds of whatever odd partnership they’d developed over the years. John was, he had very reluctantly come to accept, the girl’s mentor if nothing else. His job was to teach her and guide her, not be her parent.

No matter what his old, battered heart might try and suggest.

Even still, he couldn’t help but be concerned.

She was twenty-five when they got temporarily launched into that broken, bleak world. When they met the Elle and Flamebird and Phoenix of that horrible dimension.

The three alternates’ bonds were anchored completely, tying the triad together in threads of silver and green. Not even Other-Elle’s complete, sickening deterioration into something cannibalistic and feral had been enough to break them. He can’t imagine how much it must have hurt to see that, for his girl to glimpse a world where something she’d longed for for so long happened, only for it to seemingly be at the expense of reality itself.

He helped cover for her, after their two groups had been mixed up and separated for the night - or what might be called night in a world that no longer had any light to make those kinds of distinctions in time. When she came back with the Flamebird and Phoenix of that world, after their little separation from the larger group he kept her two boys misdirected. Distracted Nightwing and Zantanna so they didn’t go asking too many questions he knew Elle wouldn’t want answered. The Bat John was helpless to do much about, but thankfully the big brooder seemed too intent on the desolate, lightless world itself to notice the way Elle’s gaze was going distant, bittersweet at the edges.

He didn’t know what, exactly had happened in the hours she was gone. He could guess, from the way the Other-Phoenix and Other-Flamebird looked at her, the way she avoided her boys. Loneliness and desperation made for an easy slide into bad decisions. John might just have to admit that Zantanna had been correct, all the times she’d said he was a bad influence on the girl. Not that there was any surprise there.

Elle’s Bonds were even more of a knotted mess than before. Offered something so close to anchoring only to find no purchase. They twisted about her throat like a noose now, ready to strangle the life out of her one day.

He signed off on her leave of absence when they finally made it back to their home dimension.

Anyone else would want details to write down. Would want to know the specifics of why and for how long and a whole mess of other details she either wouldn’t or couldn’t answer. He’d get his ass roasted over the fire for the mess the paperwork was in, but that was fine. He’d endured far worse for far less important reasons.

Personal leave, he’d written.

Duration of leave: indefinite.

Reason for leave: None of your fucking business, Bats.

They shared a cigarette on one of the high catwalks in the Watchtower watching dawn break on the world below. Grateful to see the sun and stars again after those two days in utter blackness. They didn’t talk about her Bonds. About what happened. About how she hadn’t talked to her Boys since coming back. Just stood and smoked. He pretended not to notice her tears. She pretended not to notice his. Neither of them had ever been any good at goodbyes.

When the time came she bumped his shoulder in thanks - for the cigarette, for the company, for the years of friendship and family - before turning and stepping through the bright purple door standing impossibly in the middle of the walkway.

He glimpsed the green of the Infinite Realms and the distant shape of her Lair beyond. A world of worlds, paradise to one that never stopped, always off to find something new, something never seen before. It was against all odds that she’d even stumbled upon this one in the first place. A small speck in the crushing infinite.

When the door closed it did so slowly, a painful whine and a soft, mournful click all that marked her leaving.

John watched it bleed out of existence, and wondered if he’d ever see her again.

Six months later, the stars started to disappear.

[yawneon]

ameliorate

a/n : i’ve never publicly posted a fic/drabble here before so i’m nervous about this and i’m knew to fandom writing so bare with me.. (thanks if u read this, love u lots (b ᵔ▽ᵔ)b )

pairing : luke castellan x apollo kid!reader

summary : you were there when thalia got turned into the pine tree. you were a healer, why couldn’t you have healed her?

!!! : angst, luke comforts reader, gn!reader, reader has a lot of emotional turmoil, a lot of self-loathe, reader blames themselves, i tried my best okay (｡•́︿•̀｡), you can read this to be platonic or romantic idfk, pre-percy

————— ୨୧ —————

a healer, that was your job.

ever since you took a step into the camp, you were given a role and that role is what you were going to do. heal and protect others, that is your purpose.

it was going to be easy. how hard could it be? heal some cuts here and there, maybe a sprained ankle when luke went too rough on another camper.

that’s what you thought it was gonna be. that’s what it was meant to be.

the events of that day still run circles in your mind. you should’ve done more, you could have. it was hard for everyone of course it was. grover failed at his job, luke and annabeth lost their sister. it was selfish thinking like this wasn’t it? to feel like you were the one taking it the hardest.

-

a sigh comes out shakily from your throat as you stand infront of thalia. your hand drags along the rough wooden exterior that once used to be her skin. trailing down you feel the gritty moss beneath your touch and you remember her soft hair, her laugh, her eyes. it was self torture thinking like this. you knew that.

but you were a healer.

why couldn’t you heal her back to normal? people at camp- no even chiron said that your powers are some of the best he’s ever seen so why the fuck can you not heal her back to normal? why in that moment you couldn’t have had some instinct to heal her? what was wrong with you? you had every chance to save thalia,

why did you not take it?

before you realise it tears stream down your face and your knelt infront of the solid lumber which was once your friend, your sister. on both knees you cry into your hands. thalia was gone and you failed your whole purpose.

you heal people.

-

you lost count of how long it was since you came to see thalia. had it been 20 minutes? maybe an hour? you didn’t know. you stood yourself up now, tears still silently rolling down your cheeks. you were stuck in your head for what felt like weeks, years almost. you came to do this often, to see thalia. to try and erase the guilt that built in your stomach and plagued your mind every living moment of every living day.

you were sick and you were tired, exhausted if you must. you wished she would wake up, gods you wished you would wake up and this would all be some batshit hallucination. but alas, the gods don’t respond to such calls.

you feel a breeze hit you, it wasn’t cold but you still shivered at the feeling. you close your eyes hoping for something to happen. you wait,

one second,

then two,

then th- are those arms around your waist right now?

-

“shit!” you jump, feeling two strong arms curl around your waist. turning around your met with the goofy smile of luke castellan. “sorry, sunshine.” he laughs softly, quickly you raise your hands to your face wiping your eyes and he tuts his tongue at you. “why are you hiding away from me?” luke pouts at you, one arm secured around your middle while his other hand reaches to your face cupping your cheek.

“what are you doing out here?” you say clearing your throat to stable your voice. “i’m here to make sure your not in your head.” he grabs the top of your head and shakes it about and you swat away his hands with a soft “quit it.”

“i was just about to head back in” you say, let me rephrase that. you- “your lying.” he says and quite literally takes the words out of my mouth.

“we all wish we could’ve saved her, sunshine.” luke coos, standing next to you now. his hand now securely on your shoulder pulling you close to comfort you. it was ironic calling you sunshine honestly. yeah your dad was apollo, greek god of sun and light, but your light was dimmer compared to your bright and bouncy siblings. a rough sigh escapes your throat and you hang your head low, “i could’ve done more. i should have luke you don’t get it.” you murmured.

luke looks at you worriedly, his hand rubbing your shoulder warmly. “we all wish that, sunny.” another contridictive nickname. “i know what is going on in that brain of yours you know.” luke’s the one that sighed now. “you know your abilities a lot more deeply now, you were a kid back then. we all were, you can’t keep blaming yourself for things that a kid who was barely a teenager could have never done.” luke emphasised, his eyes drawing from thalia to look at you.

“she isn’t even dead, sunshine.” luke smiles solemnly at you, his lips forming a tight line before the corners of it rise. “she’s right here.” his hand touches the bark of the tree. “right here with all of us.”

luke’s hands draw to both of your shoulders and he turns your body so both of you are face to face. “no matter how strong someone is, you can’t save everyone.” he nods sadly, “i know you wish you could, but you can’t.” he bites his inner cheek to stop his own tears from pooling out. “sun-“ before he could finish that sentence your arms were around him, embracing him softly. no words had to be spoken for luke to just hug you back. soft sobs escaping your throat as you cry into his warm body.

you two stood there for a while but that didn’t matter to him, he was your friend and he was your pillar in this time of need. no matter how wet his tshirt was right now, it didn’t matter. luke would rather stand there and hug you for a century, for a millenia, for fucking ever if that meant that you were gonna be okay. he’ll be there right by your side through everything. you’ll heal every one of his cuts and he’ll fight the ares kid that makes fun of you during capture the flag and then you’ll bake him blue cupcakes as a thank you.

-

you were a healer.

and despite not being able to save your sister, thalia. you vow to never let anyone else go through that. you were a healer and you will heal others and yourself for her.

f/n

————— ୨୧ —————

[mistydeyes]

can you do a 141 boys (maybe + könig if u write for him :3) where they're all watching a horror movie together and expect reader to be scared of it, but instead reader is enjoying it and even laughing at some parts? like reader isnt phased by the horror at all, meanwhile soap is shitting his pants😭 <3

anon I LOVED THIS REQUEST! im a horror movie junkie myself and ill laugh while everyone is screaming :) this was close to home so I hope you enjoy!

horror movie protagonist

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summary: Task Force 141 had an odd tradition of showing horror movies to their newest members and scaring the absolute living shit out of them. However, they're surprised when you start to commentate on the movie as if it was some nature documentary. They're even more surprised when you starting laughing hysterically.

pairing: Task Force 141, König x gn!platonic!Reader (codename: Monsoon)

warnings: SWEARING, fictional movie violence (but GORY IMAGERY SO BE WARNED and also spoilers for Martyrs

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Despite being trained soldiers and experiencing all types of horror on the battlefield, the 141 still acted like American frat boys. Once the guns were all locked away and they changed out of their fatigues, they were the absolute worst. One of their hazing rituals was to make their newest member watch a gruesome or terrifying horror movie. The ritual started when Gaz joined, they made him sit through Hostel and he still fears traveling. Next was Soap and he shared Gaz's sentiments after watching Infinity Pool and experiencing the absolute terror that is Mia Goth. They even roped König into their routine and watched as he held his hands over his eyes and sat through Megan is Missing. Poor boy couldn't even hide behind his mask as he watched the horrifying images of Megan appear on the screen.

After a good training session with the team, they invited you to watch a movie in the common room. It was your first week as an official addition to the 141 and you were happy to participate in some comradery. You headed off to the showers before the film and couldn't see the devious faces of Gaz and Soap. They had a plan for you that night and were excited to continue the tradition. "You don't think it'll be too scary?" Gaz said to Soap as they walked to the showers. "We picked a solid one," he replied but shuttered when he remembered his experience, "still can never look at me in the mirror."

After your shower, you dried your damp hair as you entered the common room. Your team had used their strength from training to move together two couches and a few chairs in front of the television. "Ready for movie night, Monsoon?" Kyle asked as he appeared with some popcorn. You grabbed a handful before you nodded. You took a seat next to Soap and Gaz joined on your other side. Price was lounging on one of the chairs and Ghost sat with König to his left. "We picked a good one, just for you," Soap said with a suspicious smirk but you shrugged as he unpaused the film. "What is it?" you questioned as you looked around to see everyone had a similar expression. "Nothing like you haven't seen before" Price replied and you nodded as you turned to the screen.

The movie opened with a family enjoying dinner and you rolled your eyes at the thought of another heartwarming piece. Before you could speak up, a woman entered and brutally murdered the family one by one with a shotgun. "Fuckin' hell," Ghost muttered as the blood stained the screen and you couldn't help but feel a little skeptical. "The blood is too red, they could've done a better job," you muttered and Soap looked at you as if you were insane. You threw your hands up defensively in response. "I'm just saying," you muttered and the film continued.

The next scene you had commentary on was when Anna was exploring underneath the house and discovered a secret chamber. There, she discovered a woman with a steel blindfold attached to her face. "Holy shit," Gaz whispered as they zoomed in to the metal mixing with his scarlet blood. König was silent but it was clear he was fearing the worst as he tried to look away. "How is she even still alive?" Price uttered and you chimed in. "Exactly! It's an actual death sentence and just unrealistic that they can screw that in and not have her die from blood loss," you exclaimed, pointing at the screen. Yet again, everyone looked at you incredulously. "You can't expect me to watch a movie and not point out the flaws."

You remained relatively silent and kept your opinions to yourself until Anna became the latest subject and experienced brutal beatings and verbal degradations. With every shot, everyone turned away but you just rolled your eyes. You even looked bored at some points, much to the confusion of everyone in the room. Even Ghost was a bit disturbed by the brutality of the movie and put down his plate of leftovers. "I don't get what's so scary," you mumbled and Gaz lightly hit your leg to silence your sarcastic commentary.

Eventually, Anna reached the "final stage." The screen was filled with horrifying imagery and in the middle of it König took a break to walk away and hit the head. You continued watching the spectacle and tried to keep your thoughts to yourself. However, as Ghost and Price looked disgusted as the doctor peeled off her skin in a few fleshy sheets, you couldn't hold it in any longer. You laughed as the attention was on you again. "What now, Sergeant?" Price asked, bewildered. "It's just so anatomically impossible for her to survive, I mean look at her she's practically being skinned alive," you exclaimed and pointed at the screen. König had the unfortunate timing of returning when the camera zoomed in on Anna and you could hear him turn around and walk away. You chuckled as Gaz's covered his eyes to block the sight of Anna sitting in a comatose state with nothing left except for her muscles and veins.

Soap had enough and grabbed the remote to pause the film. "Okay, what the fuck, Monsoon," he interrogated and you could feel the spotlight fall on you. "What do you mean, Soap? I'm just saying the obvious," you replied back and childishly crossed your arms. "No," Gaz continued, "why are you so unfazed?" You laughed suddenly and your sides began to hurt before you recovered. "Stuff like this doesn't scare me at all," you said as you wiped some tears from your eyes. "So you're telling me you watch this for fun?" Price joined in and you nodded in response.

"Oh yeah, I love horror movies!" you explained as they looked at you wide-eyed. Ghost laughed loudly at the reveal. "I've watched all kinds of messed up shit," you continued, "From The Human Centipede to Hostel, I've seen it all." Gaz looked at Soap and you could see the glint of disappointment in their eyes. "Were-were you trying to make me scared?" you questioned and the two nodded. "It's a tradition we have in the 141, watch a gruesome movie and get the shit scared out of you," he replied quietly and you couldn't help but feel a little bad. "We can still continue?" you offered but Ghost shook his head as he got up. "If I don't have to sit through this, I won't," he said and waved off before heading to his quarters. Price followed suit and Gaz began to clean up, leaving only you and Soap on the couch.

"You are fucking crazy," Soap swore and you shot a look at him. "You telling me that was scary to you, Sergeant?" you said skeptically and Gaz laughed in response. As he shook his head in refusal, you knew how you would get back at him. A week later Soap's screams filled the base as you had snuck a picture of the martyred Anna into one of his nudie magazines. "Serves you right, Mactavish," you smiled to yourself before you settled back onto the couch and played the first movie of your Insidious marathon.

[bloodynereid]

Could I request a scream story where reader is Tara and Sam’s younger adopted sibling who had a rough life, and they think the others’ lives are more important than theirs, and they get hurt and Tara and Sam are protective but scared for them?

Of Flowers Flooded With Blood

pairing: tara carpenter x sam carpenter x adopted sister reader (platonic)

warnings: blood, stab wounds, mentions of murder, hospitals, hiding injuries, near death experience, general scream warnings

description: when you hide a stab wound from your siblings and it almost has disastrous consequences.

a/n: I AM SO SORRY i swear i was going to write this earlier and then just didn't. i hope this little drabble makes up for it though! i had fun writing it so i hope you enjoy.

The adrenaline started to dissipate slowly. You were sitting on the concrete sidewalk, not caring about how dirty the New York street was. The distant sounds of sirens and talking from your sisters felt like background noise, they kept fading in and out as you tried to take deep breaths.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, Tara. Are you?” You said, straining a smile when your older sister sat down next to you. She wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into her. The action sent a pang of pain through your side that you were trying to ignore.

“Better than I was when three crazy murderers were coming at us.”

“I’m sorry about Chad.” You said suddenly, giving your sister a reassuring pat on her knee.

“Me too.” Tara uttered sadly as she pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

“Hey guys. Ambulance is coming soon.” Sam said as she sat down to the other side of you, mirroring the motions of Tara she put an arm around your other shoulder. The three of you were now in some kind of makeshift hug.

“You okay, Sam?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. Are you?”

“Hmmm.” You hummed in affirmation as you felt the heat and love from your sisters encase you. Lulling you into a space right before something as the pain in your side got stronger.

Under the layers of blood on your shirt and jacket lay a deep stab wound, one that Ethan probably got into you right before you smashed one of the glass cases on his head. It felt irrelevant to tell your sisters about, Tara was already starting to mourn Chad and well Sam had this haunted look in her eyes that was beginning to scare you.

You weren’t even their real sister, even if you shared a bond you hadn’t been their sister until a few years ago. You used to just be Tara’s friend until their mom adopted you and the crazy events dealing with Amber and Richie happened.

The sounds of an ambulance got louder and louder as the world started to blur around you. A few moments later your head suddenly slumped down and everything was black. Leaving you in the void between life and death and your sisters in a state of complete and utter panic.

Loud beeping slowly pulled you out of the darkness, it almost felt like you were floating. Maybe you had died. A feeling of sadness washed over you when you realized you would be leaving your sisters behind. You should have said something…

Your thought spiral was suddenly interrupted when the feeling of a solid warm was felt all around you. As if someone or two someones were holding you.

“Ugh?” You groaned and tried to open your eyelids, only to feel shuffling from both sides of the bed.

“Sweetheart? Are you awake, little sis?” Sam’s distinct rasp made a smile slowly tug on the corners of your mouth.

“Sam?”

“Yeah, I’m here. I’m here. You’re okay.”

“Oh God, don’t do that ever again.” This time Tara’s voice cut through the fog that you now knew was caused by painkillers, not death.

“Tara?”

“I’m here too. You’re going to be just fine.”

“Hmmm. I love you guys.”

“We love you too, now go back to sleep, sweetheart. You deserve the rest.” You felt a pair of lips press a kiss to your forehead as you were slowly pulled under again. This time fear wasn’t gripping you with its claws, instead it was love and joy for knowing that you had your sisters there.

i am getting through requests yayy! i have another scream rq in my inbox so expect that at some point soon.

[cranberryjuice-posts]

Busy being yours to fall for somone new

—

GO READ PART ONE NOW‼️‼️‼️‼️

P t 1 here

Pairings - Abby Anderson x fem! Veterinarian reader

AN: I lowkey this reminds me some of Evelyn Hugo’s apology to ciela lmao 😭 (it’s not plagiarized just inspired)

Synopsis- abby can’t live without you (that’s some downbad lesbians shit)

“I don’t have sex with friends”

That’s all that ran through Abby’s mind for the next 4 months.. winter was starting to come to an end, Abby would be lying if she didn’t say she struggled some— that is trying to get over you. The cold bed, the empty apartment when manny was gone, the avoidment in your voice when she talked to you.. everything that she missed loved and more about you, that’s what she struggled to get over.

——

There were the times when you just ignored her -

Abby had walked towards the animal kennels with Alice in tow. The happy dog ran ahead of her and jumped onto your back as you were closing the pasture gates.

You smiled and bent down. “Hey sweetie” you spoke in a baby voice while scratching behind the dogs ear. Abby smiled down at you, she wanted to say something but was to worried about ruining things.

She watched as you stood up and pointed at the clipboard before turning and leaving calling Alice to follow you. Abby rubbed her eyes and sighed, she knew she fucked up but shit did you really have to act like she didn’t even exist.

——

Then the time she was caught by her friends-

“Right and I was thinking what if we watched legally blonde” Nora smiled and held up the CD. The group was currently inside Abby and mannys apartment having yet again another movie night. Yeah Nora and Owen were arguing over which movie but once again abby didn’t care. Hell she didn’t even realize when the group went quiet.

“Abs..” Nora spoke and put a hand on her knee.

“Huh?” She snapped back into the conversation.

“Legally blonde or The hot chick” Nora raised an eyebrow guestering her head towards the tv.

Manny shook his head and leaned into the conversation. “She upset over her breakup” a shared look of confused passed over the group.

“The hell Are You Talking About” Owen asked.

“Manny there is no break up—“ she started but was ultimately innerupted.

“We all could tell Abby” Mel looked over. “What ever was between you and Y/n sure as hell wasnt platonic I mean every-time we saw you two it was like we caught you two about to devour one another” Nora agreed along side manny but Owen remained confused and fustrated as he didn’t understand what they were talking about.

“Also it’s pretty weird that you and her haven’t actually hung out together along like before and rarely in together in the group since you laughed at Mona saying you two were together”

Abby groaned and covered her face with her hand. “Was it that obvious”

Mel shook her head. “Not really, I mean we noticed because were your friends but everyone else wouldn’t of suspected”

She remained quiet and sighed before dragging her hand down her face, her eyes becoming glassy something not common for the solider.

“Let’s Just Watch whatever dumbass movie Owen chose” she wiped her eyes and put her guard up once again.

——

Then lastly.. the time she dreamed about you-

Abby laid in her bed silently dreaming, the only noise being the grinding of her teeth. In her dream you were sitting in her waist.

“Abs what are you doing” you smiled as Abby started to let her hands go under your shirt and press against your stomach.

“Nothin~” she cooed and continued to tease you. Abby looked up at you with that same look she always gave that you knew you couldn’t resist.

“Stop looking at me like that” you laughed, you wore one of Abby’s shirts that while tight on her large on you. You playfully grabbed her chin and tilted your head.

“I have no idea what your talking about” Abby teased and let her hands wander before resting them on your hips. You leaned forward as if to kiss her but the kiss never met before Abby woke up in a cold sweat.

She felt some tears run down her face when she laid back and closed her eyes in defeat. Abby opened her eyes and looked up at the cieling. She reached over and touched the spot on the small mattress you had claimed as your own trying to find some sort of comfort but it was hopeless.

She knew she had no other choice than to go running back to you.

—

At the same time you laid in your empty bed you were messing with a dog tag necklace Abby had given you, the tag had her solider ID in the WLF engraved onto it. You chuckled remembering the time you had tried to give it back but Abby made you keep it since she had another.. you closed your eyes wanting to forget while trying so hard to not cry. You were the one who broke each-other up so Why the hell were you so hurt.

You knew you weren’t over her, I mean you were wearing her shirt as a nightgown still. Deep in thought, it was soon innerupted with a hard nock at your door. You raised an eyebrow at who would be here at 2am.

The door opened and you saw Abby standing in all her glory. Hair down, sweatpants and her sports bra with her muscles on full display.. a combo that use to and still does make you go weak.

“What” You yawned trying to act un-phased seeing her.

“Please can we talk—“

“Go back to your place Abigail” You stopped her and gave her a dirty look. You tried to shut your door but once again abby stopped you, you swore you hated and loved how strong she was. She walked in the apartment and closed the door.

Abby grabbed your arms and got down on her knees. Your eyes widened and you looked around embarrassed. “I. Love. You.” She sternly spoke. “Please.. let me love you right this time like I know I can” she begged and pressed your hands to her forehead. You were quiet. “I don’t care what anyone else has to say.. I don’t give a shit if the entire WLF hates me just as long as you are with me”

“You Need to go Abby I’m serious” you tried to pull your hands away. But Abby persisted she looked up.

“I know I know but please—“

“It’s late.. I’m tired.. it’s 2am and I really don’t wanna deal with your bullshit”

You turned your face away trying to show some kind of strength, You pulled your hands away and stepped back looking down waiting for Abby to leave.

She didn’t leave however.. Abby stood up and walked to you cupping your face, she rested her head against yours and after some silence she spoke. “I will never stop loving you..” that was all she said before leaving the apartment.

A week passed-

You found yourself hanging out at a watering hole in a QZ near by. Some soliders had decided to have a bond-fire, you of-course managed to be dragged by your friends.

You had your hair pulled back and you wore a simple black bikini. You knew you were hot and you also knew there were a few men’s eyes on you.

You had also seen Abby slightly, her gaze transfixed onto you. Part of you wanted to go up to her but the other part told you not to, starting shit up with her would only end up in you hurt again.

—

You walked out the water with Leah following you. You laughed with the girl enjoying spending time with your friend when you felt a harsh smack on your ass.

“Hey there cutie” John a cocky solider stood behind you grinning sadisticly. You cringed at seeing him.

“What the fuck dude” Leah scoffed and tried to move you towards her but John grabbed your arm and pulled you into him.

“John let me go” you complained trying to push him away.

“Nah sweetheart I’m happy with you right here” he grinned and leaned his head down. You tilted your head back still uncomfortable.

“We got a problem” Abby stood at The shore with her strong arms crossed. You admired her simple yet attractive outfit of a black wife beater and dark green cargo pants.

“Nah Anderson we’re just fine you can go” John spoke defensively, still holding onto you right. A few people started to crowd around wondering what would happen.

“Oh yeah?” Abby spoke sarcastically walking more towards the water til she was closer to John and you. “Cause it fucking seems your forcing my girlfriend to feel your hard on”

John rolled his eyes. “You’ve gotta be kidding” he grinned but his smile fell and his grip on you tightened. “Are you talking about that dumbass rumor Mona said some months back about you two fucking around- that was true” he scoffed.. You pushed him away and stumbled back into Abby.

She protectively wrapped an arm around your waist. “Yeah is that an issue” she started her stance getting more aggravated.

“I mean shit Abby.. i knew you looked like a fag but never expected you to actually be one” he scoffed with a sarcastic smile. “Besides we both know all Y/n needs is a man.. and I mean a real man not sone woman who thinks she tough just because she’s got some muscles”

“Really? Why don’t you come over here then and i can show you how much of a man I really am” Abby’s stance got more defensive all while her tone remained eerily calm. Some guys grabbed john and yelled at him pulling him away from Abby, they were stupid but not stupid enough to not know that someone would get hurt and it certainly wouldn’t be the woman they described as an ox.

Once they and the crowd that started to build left Abby grabbed your face- her entire demeanor changed. “Are You ok.. what else did he do did he—“

“No no” you shook your head and started to softly breath once again. You gently placed your hands ontop of hers which still had your face in her grasp and looked up at her. “Girlfriend?” You asked with a confused chuckle. “I thought.. I thought you didn’t want anyone else to know about you being…”

Abby blushed and nodded. “Y/n i told you i don’t care what anyone else thinks anymore, I want to love you proudly and openly.. I wasn’t lying that night i showed up to your place, I would give up everything for you” you pondered for a moment still deciding what to do before grabbing her face and kissing her softly yet passionately pouring all your emotion into it.

“I actually hate you” you chuckled and smiled at her gently while she grabbed your hips.

“Yeah I know” she grinned and kissed your forehead with a sigh of relief, You two were gonna be ok.. and you knew that, deep down you always knew that

Hope you enjoyed thank you for all the love on pt 1 😭💗💗💗💗

@4rt3m1ss @redwlf843 @macaroni676 @azxulaa

[keys-hellscape-1020]

You’re a healer, not a fighter. And yet…

Enjoy more stitch y’all sorry it took me so long. Also the title for this is SO bad I’m so sorry.

Platonic!141 x Medic!reader

Tw: Canon typical violence, cursing, gore, blood, Background character death, explosions, grenades, heavy smoke, reader is dissociating, implied that reader is having a panic attack, military inaccuracies, light angst, hurt/comfort.

~

You hate, nay despise, when you get separated during missions. If history holds true, and it always does, it won’t end well.

You are currently stuck in a small room, well stuck is a strong word as you do have 2 possible exits, it’s just that neither is very promising.

The slightly more promising of the two is a small rectangular window on the other side of the room, about 6 feet away. You’re not sure if you could get your torso through, and even if you did, if the 5 story drop didn’t kill you the enemy that was swarming the building certainly would.

The other exit was a hallway, leading back the way you fled from. You were crouched in a corner that bordered the door, gripping your gun tightly. There was no cover in the room, simply beige walls and that dammed window.

Suddenly a loud noise crackled from your comms, causing you to fumble to quickly turn it down a few notches. “Stitch! Stitch are you there? We almost have the case!”

You shuddered in a breath, carefully watching the door as you lifted one hand up to your radio to respond. “Sounds good Soap. I’m currently pinned on the 5th story, no visual on the enemy.”

“Stitch do you have any way to get out of there? We are pushing on 7th story.” That was Price, you could hear the sounds of a firefight in the background.

“I’ll find a way around.”

“Copy that, repo quickly.”

You carefully came out of your corner, crouching near the door you grabbed the doorknob, quickly flinging the door open.

The moment the door opened it was filled with bullets. You ducked behind the wall, grabbed a grenade from your gear pulled the pin and hoped.

When you heard a loud explosion paired with a choir of screams you leapt into the doorway, your gun posed in front of you.

You quickly took care of the few enemies you could see between the smoke and rubble. After a moment of no movement you moved forward to the rubble.

Crouching down you looked at the one solider who was still alive from your assault, half buried under rubble. He was a big fucker.

“Fuck off.” He growled at you as blood ran down his face.

You assessed him with a critical eye. His injuries would prevent him from moving very far. If you moved all weapons away from his reach he wouldn’t be a threat. That is assuming he lives.

You leaned over him to grab his sidearm from its holster on his side. As you leaned over he grabbed your arm with one hand and your shoulder with the other.

In any other circumstances he would’ve been able to break your arm, but he was injured and you were on high alert. You quickly tore his side arm from its holster and drove it into the side of his head, knocking his grip off of you.

Pointing his gun at his forehead you growled, “I am showing you mercy. Do not make me regret it.”

Breaking you out of your focused state was your radio, crackling to life loudly on your chest.

“STITCH! DON’T- THE EMEMY- TRAP”

The enemy used your shock to his advantage, grabbing your elbow and attempting to pry the gun from your grasp. You however were still faster despite your shock. You ram you head into his, causing him to let go of your elbow. You then pull your knife from its sheath and drive it home in the side of his neck.

With his blood staining your hands you turned to respond to your radio, ignoring the enemy’s gurgling in the background.

“What about the enemy? Do you have the case?” You asked, concern growing in your chest.

“STITCH” That at least you could tell was Price.

“Captain? Captain what’s going on?” You asked frantically, you had to fight the urge to run to them. If things were going wrong getting yourself hurt would not help anyone.

Suddenly your radio was full of very loud static. You fiddled with the channel, hoping it was just a technical error, but the longer you tried to get a connection the more you lost hope that it was simply a technical error.

You feel the blood drain from your face as the reality of the situation hit you. Your boys were captured. You quickly switch your mic off. Damnit.

Alright think. Your boys still have to be in the building, there’s no way they got them out already. You know they were heading to the 7th floor. The enemy will most likely be taking them up to the roof to lift them out. You just had to intercept them in time.

That is assuming they’re not dead.

But there is no time to think like that. They can’t be dead. If they’re dead you’re going to drag their sorry asses back to the living world and kill them again.

You quickly look around in the rubble, there has to be something here you can use. The corpse of an enemy solider catches your eye. They’re about the same build as you and while their uniform is splattered in blood it would do the job well enough.

You quickly pull on their jacket and vest along with their helmet. You could only hope that would be enough, you had to move.

————

You found the stairwell on the 5th floor, once you executed your plan you would have to move quickly or face loosing your boys forever.

You quickly started climbing the stories, you keep marching forward undisturbed until you got to the 8th story, when you were met with two guards.

“Who the fuck are you?” One of the guards shouted at you, pointing his gun at your head.

You quickly raised you hands in the air, it was vital they thought you one of them. “We- were attacked. 5th floor. Everyone is dead.” You croaked, forcing tears into your eyes and tightening your throat.

The two guards looked at each other, back at you, then lowered their guns a few inches.

“Where on the 5th floor was this and when?” One guard questioned, narrowing their eyes at you.

Fuck. You thought it was on the western side but you couldn’t be sure. No more that 10 minutes could’ve passed since it happened, but how could you be certain?

You couldn’t be, you just had to take a guess and hope you were right. “Western side.” You shuddered, hoping you weren’t overdoing your acting. “It- it just happened. No more then 10 minutes ago.”

“We just lost contact with a group on the eastern side. You know anything about that?” The guard shot you a suspicious glance. The other one fiddled with their trigger, glaring at you.

Fuck it.

You grabbed the one who was fiddling with their trigger and pulled them in front of you, using them as a human shield against their friend who sprayed a wave of bullets at you on instinct.

You pushed one guard into the other, and while they were reeling from the shock of having their friends mutilated corpse pushed into them you grabbed your knife and rammed it into the side of their head, aiming at the lisp of their helmet and angling upwards. So much for the plan.

There were footsteps coming down the stairwell, you had to act fast. Quickly you stash your knife in its sheath before pulling out your gun and firing it at the entry to the 8th floor, shouting expletives.

A team of 6 rounds the corner on high alert, they’re looking where you’re shooting and not at you, good.

“They went that way!” You shout, gesturing towards the door with a nod of your head.

“Move!” The leader barked, rushing towards the door. You pressed yourself to the wall, watching as they filed into the empty floor.

Once the coast is clear and the last of the enemies are through the door you turn around to creep carefully yet quickly up the rest of the stairs.

You manage to move up the next two flights of stairs without difficulty. You make your way to the floor right below the roof and listen carefully, your ear perched right up against the door.

You are met with the sounds of very angry, very Scottish yelling. You let out a shallow sigh of relief. Just as you suspected your boys are still in the building, now the hard part. Getting them out of it in one piece.

You wait at the door a moment longer listening for any clues, you fail to hear any coming from beyond the door, but you do hear one from above.

Carefully, and ever so slowly, cracking the door to the roof open, you are met with exactly what you expected. A helicopter is slowly descending to the platform on the roof, surrounding said platform is at least 5-8 enemy soldiers.

While not great you can work with these conditions, and that’s what you plan to do.

Not that you have much of a choice.

————

You quickly run to the floor they’re holding your boys and in a moment of fuck-it-I-have-nothing-to-loose (you’re lying to yourself you have everything to loose), you charge in, slamming the door to the wall.

You immediately stand at attention, and direct your eyesight to the man you hope you are correctly assuming is in charge.

When no bullets start firing at you you realize they are waiting for you to speak.

“Sir!” You bark out. “The heli is waiting on the roof sir!”

An old, short man turns to focus his eyes on you. You feel the cold sweat gathering on your neck as he fails to say anything, you swear that in the moment you could feel him cracking open your chest and feasting inside. Discovering all your secrets, uncovering all your sins.

Then he speaks, “bout damn time! Have the rest of your team come down. Escort these damn prisoners the fuck out of here!”

You turn to report to the rest of your fake team when a sense of dread hits you like a cold water ballon.

The messenger they would be sending. To alert the old fucker about the heli landing. That you already told him about.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!!” You hiss out quietly to yourself, two seconds away from stomping your foot and pouting like a child.

Your panic is cut short however when the door to the roof opens. You quickly snap to attention as the solider heads towards you, fixing you with a scalding glare.

“What are you doing?” They question. You feel like they are a priest, pulling all your sins out of you one by one.

“I’ve been assigned to guard here, on account of the enemy solider running amok.” You say stoically, puffing out your chest in a crude imitation of a loyal solider, proud to be guarding their commander.

The other solider briefly stares at you, before gesturing for you to get out of the way. Fuck there’s nothing you can do. Any attempt at taking them out would surly be heard. Fuck it- there’s nothing you can do.

You step aside.

————

It feels like a lifetime as you wait for a sound, a whimper, a pen dropping, an indication of what your next move should be. It feels like a lifetime as suddenly the door you’re standing next to bursts open.

You are guided by instinct as you fire a bullet into the head of the solider who had opened the door. You duck low, pull the pin on a grenade, and throw it into the room.

You are shaken by the proximity of the explosion, and your ears are ringing fiercely. You push forwards anyway, and once you are well hidden by the smoke in the room you duck behind the remains of a pillar. You hear movement and you quickly peek out form behind it, firing wildly. It is only another moment before the smoke begins to clear enough that you can see.

You glance around cautiously, and see that every solider in this room is dead, remarkably there are fewer corpses then you expected. The only option for where your boys could be is behind a door on the other end of the room.

You can hear yelling coming from it.

You can hear footsteps from behind you.

You slam the door behind you shut, amazed it’s still on it’s hinges. You grab a chair and shove it beneath the handle. You hope that buys you enough time to get your boys out because otherwise you’re doomed.

You approach the door, your gun posed in front of you, and kick.

The door holds.

You kick again.

The doorframe splinters under the force with a shrieking groan and the door swings open.

You are met with the man who you had addressed before, holding a pistol to Price’s head. All of your boys are in the room, looking like they had been thrown in haphazardly, their arms tied behind their back and their legs held together by zip-ties.

You creep one foot into the room before the old fucker shouts out, “Stop! One more step and I blow his brains out!” As he speaks he kicks Price, not hard enough to send him to the ground, but he still lets out a small grunt of pain.

“Hands off him ye’ wanker!!” Soap shouts out from one side of the small room. He pulls against his bonds with a groan, but does not accomplish anything.

Suddenly a loud shout and a bang is heard from the farthest door. You are forced to turn around, your gun held high, as you hear the enemy continue to struggle to get in.

“You’ll be dead soon. Surrender and maybe I’ll go easy on-” suddenly his speech dissolves into a blubbering mess of groans and hiccups, all began by the distinct sound of metal sinking into flesh.

You whirl around, panicked, only to see your Captain standing over the fluttering body of the enemy commander, holding a small pocket knife.

He glances at you over his shoulder before speaking, “Hold the door, I’ll get them out.”

You do as he says, moving to crouch behind a pillar, gaze trained on the door.

“Sir,” you call out over your shoulder, “enemy heli on the roof.”

Price makes a noise of acknowledgment and quickly crouches down next to you behind the pillar, an enemy gun in his hands. You barely notice Ghost, Soap, and Gaz moving to shelter on the other side of the room before the door bursts open with a sense of finality.

————

It’s nothing short a blood bath, a mess of bullets and gunpowder framing the centerpiece of organs and body parts. Bone fragments, and limbs, and cries of pain and pleas to merciless gods. It feels like both a century and a moment before soldiers stop flooding into the room.

Price motions for you to move forward, and gestures towards your belt silently. A smoke grenade. You nod in understanding and pose right behind a door, a smoke grenade in your hand. You glance over your shoulder briefly, checking that all your boys are in place.

With a confirmation that they’re ready you pull the pin on the grenade, shut your eyes tightly, and throw it. Once you hear the smoke dispense you desperately push forward.

It feels like a fever dream, moving through smoke and cries of pain. You feel like you’re watching a movie, a compilation of photos as you feel yourself pull the trigger again and again and again. Body responding before you can even think to. You feel every movement so intensely, and yet not at all. Like a puppet you react to your instincts, watching your boy’s backs. Making sure they stay safe. By the time the smoke clears and you’re ready to move to the roof you swear you can feel yourself swimming in blood. You can feel it creeping up your shoes, your shins and your knees, you hips, up and up until it’s entering your throat and your nose- suffocating you- you can’t breathe-

“Stitch?” You’re forced back into your body by a firm hand on your shoulder. Turning your head you see Gaz standing next to you, somehow managing to pull a small, kind smile onto his face. “We’re almost out.” He soothes kindly.

You swallow the blood in your throat before nodding firmly. “Right. We’re almost out.”

————

It was surprisingly easy to take control of the helicopter, but you suppose you should have expected that. Once they’d heard the shooting and explosions beneath their feet they would have almost certainly abandoned their post in favor of helping their allies. It doesn’t truly matter to you though, their lives ended all the same.

After busting through the door, that they hadn’t even bothered to lock in their rush, it was simply a matter of taking out 3 soldiers and the pilot. A laughably easy task considering what you had just accomplished.

You leaned back in your seat on the helicopter heavily, resting your head back against the side of the beast. You feel your weariness in every bone in your body. You don’t think you’ve ever dealt so much death in such a short period of time. While you were no stranger to the feeling of taking a life, you took less than the average solider. You focused on mending, not breaking, whenever possible.

You supposed that today mending life was not in cards as much as tearing it apart. You wonder if you have what it takes to be a solider, if you break at the first sign of difficulty.

You’re broken out of your thoughts by a firm hand on your knee. You open your eyes and sit up to be met with the sight of Soap’s big blue eyes staring at you in concern.

It’s takes you a moment before you notice that he’s handing you something, his field journal. You take it with a confused glance, but he mearly gestures for you to look inside.

You look at the page he was holding open, it contains many small doodles, that despite their small size are still remarkably well done. You see doodles of Ghost and Gaz, who are sitting across from you. He’s sketched how they currently look, Gaz with his head resting on his fist as he stares at the clouds racing by. Ghost as he leans back, his arms and legs crossed.

What really draws your attention though is a question, messily scrawled beneath the doodles. Next to it is a stylized, cartoonish drawing of you, surrounded by several hearts.

The question reads, “You alright hun?”

You look up at Johnny and he blinks at you a few times before suddenly startling, like he had forgotten something, and sheepishly handing you a pencil.

You scrawl down right below Johnny’s handwriting, “I’ll live. You?” You hand his journal back to him, and watch as he scrawls down his response.

“Bit shaken, thought I was done in for a second there. At least until you stepped in <3” Next to the heart he’s drawn a goofy kissy face, equipped with his signature Mohawk and all.

Johnny and your’s silent conversation is cut short by Price shouting over the sound of the heli from up by the cockpit, “We’re landing in 2 minutes!”

“Roger that Cap!” You yell back, handing Johnny his journal back with a ruffle of his Mohawk. He gawks at you in playful insult while you go about making sure you (and your boys) are prepped for landing.

————

Once you’ve got both your feet back inside base exhaustion hits you like a tsunami wave. Now that you’re certain you’re safe the adrenaline is fading like water out of a balloon. Despite the fatigue festering in every part of your person, you’re not in bed. Instead you’re in the armory, cleaning your gear.

You want nothing more than to sleep, but it’s routine for you to make sure all of your duties are accomplished first so you can sleep well. You’re silently taking apart a pistol when you hear footsteps approaching the armory, knocking you out of your thoughts.

It’s only a moment before Price walks through the doors, surprisingly enough he’s not carrying any of his own weapons.

As soon as he sees where you’re sat on one of the benches he B-Lines to you, approaching with a speed and purpose that you’ve only seen him use on missions. The adrenaline from the mission must still be in his system, you muse. He’s been in this industry long enough for it to make sense.

“Go the fuck to sleep sergeant. The actual hell are you still doing awake?” He barks as he approaches you.

“Will soon sir.” You respond nonchalantly. “Just cleaning my gear first.”

He guffaws like it’s the most foolish thing he’s heard all day, (which says a lot considering he has gotten captured today) and gestures for you to scoot over.

You do so, slightly confused by what he intends to do. Once you’ve made room on the bench he sits down next to you and grabs your vest. As he lays it on his lap he goes through the pockets systematically, making sure the vest is perfectly up to code.

As you observe him you’re slightly surprised by his actions, you imagine he must be wanting to go to sleep after the day he’s had.

“You don’t have to help me sir.” You say carefully, tip-toeing around his grumpy outward appearance.

“A good leader always makes sure his soldiers are taken care of before himself. Now finish cleaning that pistol so we can get the fuck to bed.”

————

With Price helping you it didn’t take long for you to finish and finally head to bed. You could feel your feet sticking to the ground with every step, and it took you twice as long as it normally did to walk to your barracks from the armory.

As you approach your door you notice a slumped figure next to it, causing adrenaline from the day to start kicking back up inside you. Feeling your heart start to hammer, yet not having the energy to do anything about it, you continue to approach leisurely.

As you get closer you recognize the balaclava and all black clothing that clings to a large frame. Ghost. When you finally stand next to him you nudge his hip with your foot.

“Come on big guy.”

He blinks up at you wearily, but starts to stand all the same as you unlock your door. You walk in and throw your boots and jacket off as you approach your bed, little care for where they end up.

You flop down on your bed, the scratchy blankets and thin military mattress feeling like paradise after all you’d been through. When you see ghost’s shadow approaching out of the corner of your eye you roll over, facing the wall.

You feel Ghost lie down on your mattress and sling a heavy arm over your waist as you both settle down into a deep sleep.

It had been a hard day, but you would do it all over again for your boys.

[mirrorofliterature]

there's something very amatonormative about the way booker sees the world

he tells nicky and joe that they had always had each other, whilst andy and booker only had themselves and their grief and that's uncharitable and an amatonormative way of looking at the world.

yes, nicky and joe are in a long-term romantic and sexual relationship that is very solid, but that doesn't negate like... their platonic relationships?

when booker says that, it is so damn self-absorbed and naive and amatonormative

does he not realise that nicky and joe have always been with him too? that nicky and joe lost quynh too? sure, andy lost her lover but look at nicky and joe when they tell nile about quynh - they loved her and her loss deeply fucked them up.

booker's betrayal is so, so selfish and amatonormative. and sure he had his reasons - grief, alcoholism, depression - but those are not excuses, but explanations. I'm on the side of 'booker is a character and what he did was understandable and he clearly needs therapy' but 'holy SHIT let nicky and joe feel BETRAYED because they were and shouldn't have to moderate their reaction to protect ickle booker' - like the amount of work booker needs to put in for a proper reconciliation is astronomical.

anyway I digress. by saying 'you always had each other', booker is being an amatonormative little shit who downplays both nicky and joe's platonic relationships, I love and care for the other immortals, including him, but also that they have suffered loss too - their families, and how their first meeting wasn't exactly serendipitous.

anyway! booker's framing of nicky and joe is deeply fucked up, stemming from amatonormativity and booker's worldview of competing grief. like booker.... grief sucks but it's not a competition, y'know?

anyway! this is a Reading TM of booker's worldview vis a via nicky and joe that I've felt strongly about because booker just like. is so self-absorbed in his grief that he cannot recognise and appreciate what he has, nor can he recognise that nicky and joe's lives haven't been sunshine and rainbows because they're in a romantic relationship.

like bro. they love you. go to therapy.