#now the question is: Do I keep she’s good with a bow or modernize that?

[rabbittwinrithings]

So after the ask about human Khash, I was inspired to take another crack at drawing modern day, human Khash 🧡

[my-owl-baby]

Chapter one; The Lost Lady

Osferth x Modern f!reader

Summary: You woke up in the middle of nowhere, the last thing you remember is going camping with your best friend. Now your here with your belongings. Getting windup with a village of women and children taking care of them until something unexpected happens.

Warnings: killing, cursing, and hard language.

Word count: 2,787

you woke up sore, everywhere in your body ache as you sat up, removing the leaves in your hair. "Where am i?" You cough a bit feeling a bit cold from the air. Snowing already? It was just summer time. You sigh, getting a jacket out of your bag that was near you and putting it on.

"JON?" You yelled hoping your best friend wasn't far from here. You grab your things walking around to find Jon.

You guys were going camping for awhile since the loud city wasn't in the right mental state for the both of you. Now your here in the middle of nowhere, weather freezing cold.

"JON?!" You yelled once more looking around but only see a white landscape with tress around.

"This isn't funny!" You held yourself close not wanting to to freeze to death in the middle of the woods. Did you fall asleep a bit more longer then expected? Or kidnapped? No, they would have you in a room right?

Many questions wonder in your head wondering where you were or how you got here.

Your fingers felt like they were going numb, you saw people up ahead. You weren't sure if they were good or so. You took out your pocket knife keeping it in your back pocket if anything happens.

"Hello?" You yelled once more, seeing the two heads turn to you. You notice it was women which brought you a little hope to you.

"Do you know where I'm at?" You asked getting closer to see a better view of them.

"Stop right there" one of them said, taking a knife out, pointing it towards you.

You pause staying where you are, not making a move because she demanded. "I'm not a threat" you defended yourself, putting your hands up in the air so she can see you aren't one.

She whispered something to the lady, and ran off as she stayed watching me. "And what dose a Dane like you want?" She step closer, she wasn't a threat to you. But you needed her to trust you so you can leave the woods.

"Dane? I'm not Dane" you said calmly, she seem unsure with your response.

"Why do you dress like one" she responded to you, you looked at your outfit. You were your jacket, jeans and a long sleeve shirt.

"I don't understand what you mean miss" you tried to be respectful but she really is making you unpatient since you were freezing you ass off.

"Don't play stupid lady, your Dane...where are your friends?" She didn't believe your words, not one bit.

"Trust me, I'm not a Dane, I don't even know what that is" you kept defending yourself. She seem unsure once again.

You both stayed in silence until an arrow went through her head, causing her body to fall to the ground.

"What the hell" you turn seeing another arrow coming towards your, running to into the village. It was empty, they must be hiding.

"Where the fuck am i" you mumble under your breath trying to find a place to hide. It looked nothing like what Amish people do, or how they live.

You hid behind a blacksmith workshop, you fumble in your bag getting your gun for safety. You didn't know she was going to die, so it wasn't your fault that she died right?

You continued to convince yourself that it wasn't your fault until you heard men laughing out loud. "Find the other whore, and bring her to me" they were riding horses. Swords, arrows and wooden shield as protected.

Then it click you, you weren't home. You weren't in your timeline.

They started to search the place, seeing them near the church trying to open it but it wouldn't bugged.

"I can't use my gun" you mumble to yourself placing it down, seeing a sword and a bow and arrow there. You crawl not trying to make a sound to get your attention.

The sword was heavy and you did have your pocket knife which could be of use. You weren't going to let innocent people dying infront of you. Not like the other times.

Of the men were getting close to your area as the other men try to open the door. He got closer to you enough to grab him and slit his throat. And you did exactly that without anyone noticing.

The snow is painted red, with his blood and the rest of his people blood as well. You grab the arrows and bow getting somewhere high so they won't see you.

"I hate this, where are you jon" you mumble, you heart beat is fast from the adrenaline.

You climb on top of a tree, until you got a good enough view of the men. "Please keep me safe any God out there, that would be wonderful" you mumble once more getting ready to shot.

Leaving everything behind where you killed the man was a good idea? No it wasn't but you didn't want the heavy bag make you slow down.

You started to aim at the men who had arrows so they wouldn't be a threat. You shot your first one which made a commotion, they pick up their shield but not high enough to keep the safe.

You killed another and another after it, only leaving a couple 13 more men to go.

"FIND WHO DOING THIS" you heard one of them yell, as they scattered around the village.

You took a quick break, catching you breath it wasn't a camping trip you were hoping for. All you wanted was a quiet peaceful trip.

You ended up shotting at four more men, you were running out of arrows, only had four more left.

"IT MUST BE THE GODS PUNISHING US MI LORD" One yelled, getting on his knees mumbling to himself.

Another started to believe him and did the same actions as the other man.

"DON'T YOU DARE, ITS NOT THE GODS YOU FOUL" it was your cue to climb down from the tress, first person combat is your strong point. You shot the two men on the ground now colouring their blood with the snow.

You revealed yourself, the 'lord' they called saw you in disbelief. "A women, killed my man" his anger show without notice as he and the rest of his men started to dart at you.

You use you last two on two men who tried to come at you. You dodged them perfectly using your pocket knife to leave a cut on their ankle or wrist.

"How can a women kill my men!" He yelled coming towards you with a sword. You kicked his shield backing away only seeing three more men alive.

"A gun would be easier" you rolled your eyes, wiping the blood of your face with your jacket.

The leader came out you once more, with his sword, you dodge him running away to another man stabing his throat. The other one stumble on his horse yelling witch. Their lord once again tried to attack you pushing his shield towards you.

You fell on the ground, his legs were spread open and decided to hit him where it would hurt, his nuts.

He grunted holding his legs together tightly dropping his sword. "Always works" you said breathlessly, grabing his sword and sliding it through his throat.

You stood there, still hearing another man yelling, as he struggled to get on his horse.

"Really?, oh my god" you mumble grabing a used arrow and aimed it at the man who cried out for help ending his noise.

Now it was silent, the only thing you heard was your own heart beat and breath at the same time. You saw all the men lifeless on the ground, you didn't want to leave them there even though they did try to kill you, you wanted to at least have a proper rest.

You grab your gun placing it behind your jeans covering by your jacket and shirt. You place your bag near by where no one would get it as you started to grab a shovel to bury them.

Soon you notice people coming out the church looking at you, like you were their hero or some sort of monster. You didn't mind them, only trying to bury men you killed.

"You burn them instead of burying them" you heard a young voice said, you turn seeing a women about your age not to close to you.

"We thank you for saving us" she bow a bit before making eye contact with you.

"It's nothing, it's the least I can do for them killing your family member" you mumble not knowing the right words you stop shoveling.

"She was a nun here, for many years...we buried her not the Danes" she said, you nodded looking at the men you had piled in a line.

"So those are Danes, do you know where I am?" You glance at the group of men, then at the her. She nodded taking a deep breath, the children and women were watching you closely making sure you wouldn't hurt their nun.

"Umm, my lady your in the Wessex land" she looked away, playing with her fingers as she spoke.

"Wessex?" It didn't click you heard, until you thought about it more. England, so you either in the 5th-10th century, but you needed the right date.

"Um, do you need any help?" You snapped out of your thoughts, turning to the lady.

"What would be kind of you" you smiled, she nodded, as you both continued to talk to each other about this land or other people out there.

Two weeks had passed, and Uhtred came to the king, Alfred. Sitting down at the table eating along side with the kings wife, father Beocca and Haesten chatting about something.

"His name is Sigurd" Haesten said, eating his food at the same time. "His men call him bloodhair"

Aelswith spoke up "I don't not wish to know why something depraved, I'm sure" she slice her meat up.

"I have a man watching Bloodhair camp" Uhtred spoke, "but I'm curious...he didn't ask you to join him, Haesten?" He asked, taking a sip of his ale.

Alfred looked at Haesten, as he said he declined bloodhair offer. They started to bicker back and forth as the king watched. Uhtred didn't trust Haesten not one bit, and he had every right too.

"Uhtred, there came a report that in the near rivers in Wessex near north that someone killed seventeen Danes alone" he started getting the attention of everyone in his table.

"How can one man defeat seventeen Danes alone?" Father Beocca asked, Uhtred seem impressed, while Lady Aelswith praise the man for killing such evil men.

"I want you to bring that man to me, he would be of use" he said, Uhtred and the others agreed expect for Haesten himself, who stuff meat in his mouth.

Once the king left for air Haesten spoke "There's a lady that Bloodhair has...her name is Skade, she a seer of the devil father" looking at Beocca for a reaction, which he didn't give.

He left afterwards, leaving Uhtred and Father Beocca alone.

"Where are you going?" Beocca asked as Uhtred was walking away.

"Finding out the man who killed that many Danes and speaking to Bloodhair myself" Beocca said something else but Uhtred didn't pay no mind to it.

While those two weeks with you weren't bad, you were force to pray to be able to stay and take care of the women and children here.

It wasn't bad, peaceful then cramping. Jon haven't shown up, you wish he wasn't here but a the same time it would be wonderful to see a similar face here from time to time.

Some of the nuns didn't accept you so quickly as some did, the children grew found of you. You taught the lil boys to learn how to use a wooden sword. Even know you had no experience with a sword you did your best to teach them.

Even some of the girls wanted to learn as well, which you proudly did show them.

You help out as much as you could, chop wood, hunt, collect herds, help making better food and of course taking care of the children.

It was an everyday task for you, you didn't mind it since it was helping you a lot. You never knew how much peace you could taken. Almost like it's your new life now.

You were out in the woods looking for herds since you were already running out of some.

While you were gone in the woods a group of Danes came to the village. "DANES IN THE CHURCH NOW!" Anne yelled in worried helping the children get inside. They shut the door, pushing the table to door.

"Everyone stay calm" she held the kids as many as she could.

"Lady Y/n is out there she'll get hurt" one of the boys plead, she hush the boy holding him closer to her.

The banging on the door started, the rest of the nuns started to pray to their God. Hoping he will save them and keep them at peace more longer.

You began to walk back to the village seeing men there, Danes? You didn't know since they didn't dress like the last ones you met. "Do you need anything?" You spoke up, they didn't notice your presence so they were startle by your voice.

A man walked up to you with a smile "Yes, we are looking for the man, who defeated the seventeen Danes alone" you didn't give him a reaction, shrugging as you walked passes him knocking on the door.

"Anne, open the door" you said turning to the men, there was four of them.

"So your here for the man" you chuckled as you spoke the last word. The same one walked toward you standing by your side.

"We mean no harm, only coming for the kings order, I'm Uhtred" he held out a hand for you to shake.

You looked at him then at his hand before shaking "I'm Y/n" the door peak open, then finally fully open.

"Lady Y/n, you're safe!" The same little boy hugged your legs. A small smile appeared on your face patting his head.

"Yes, I am dear boy" he smile before running off with the other kids outside to play again.

They fix the table as you set the basket of herds on the table. "So this Anne the Abbess of the nunnery, speak to her" you said, not wanting to disappoint the men that you were the one that killed those Danes.

She gave you a worried look wondering why you would trust these Danes. But she trusted you enough to speak to them.

"Hello" she bowed her head a bit towards them.

"Hello, I'm Uhtred, these here are my men I trust" he started you made your way to the kitchen getting food ready for supper.

You could hear them talking with thin doors they have build in. "We came here for the man who killed those Danes a couple days ago" he started, you startrd to chop the fat off the meat.

"Oh, that wasn't no man" Anne laughed nervously, you smiled to yourself as you heard the conversation.

"Really? Was it a bear?" You heard another man's voice as he laughed, causing the two men laugh as well.

"Hah...no" she mumble started playing with her fingers looking at the kitchen door then at the men.

"Then who did it?" Uhtred interrupt her training thought. She smiled at them before she spoke up.

"It was lady Y/n...she saved us" she knew that these men wouldn't believe it, but Uhtred seem to surprise and at the same time believe the young nun.

While the three men, Osferth, Sithtric and Finan on the other hand were surprised that a women like yourself was able to kill that many men.

"May I ask how?" Finan asked Anne, they glance at the kitchen door still wondering how.

"I don't know how to explain it" she shook her head, she really didn't one second she saw you next you were gone while four men were dead on the ground.

"You can stay for supper and for the night, if you have any business with lady Y/n...it's between the five of you" she bow dismissed herself, to the kitchen helping you with food.

"We got ourselves a witch" Sithtric said, he was serious about his words. Osferth didn't want to believe it, you looked kind to even be a killer maybe it was a trick like how the devils are.

[nightingale-ghost-writer]

Possibly [Ghost x Fem!OC]

Summary: Ghost wouldn’t know love if it shot him in the face… or comfort, for that matter. A certain pretty medic could change that.

Author’s Notes: A companion piece for Maybe, with 10.7K words! Reading Maybe isn’t necessary, but provides bits of context for this toward the end. And again, a HUGE thank you to my beloved @uselsshuman for proof reading this for me. ❤️

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or events from Modern Warfare

Warnings: language, canon-typical violence, extremely suggestive content

Ten years ago

“Stay with me, Simon! Shit, shit, I need help!”

Ghost could hear Price yelling for the medical team, but he couldn’t make his mouth work enough to tell him to bloody stop. It was making his already splitting headache twice as bad. There were searing pains in his chest and abdomen that he was pretty sure came from bullets, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He tried to focus on the pain to keep him awake, but he could feel his consciousness slipping.

“Shit, Kate! I need that medic!”

Laswell did respond, but Ghost couldn’t hear what she said over the commotion of being lifted out of the chopper. “C’mon, Simon. Stay with me,” Price muttered. The older man patted his cheek somewhat less than gently, shaking his other arm. “We’ve got too much work to do for you to go dyin’ on me now.”

Ghost tried to snort, but what came out was more of a wheeze. He opened his mouth to retort, but couldn’t seem to get enough air in to say anything. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to compartmentalize the pain. The stretcher he was on bounced along with the footsteps of the men carrying it, making the throbbing in his torso worse.

His eyes snapped open when he heard metal doors slam against the wall. A pretty medic jogged to the stretcher, carefully shining a light into his eyes and running her hands down his body. He could tell when she found the bullet wounds, fingers prodding gently at their edges. He wheezed again.

Ghost was still fighting to stay conscious while she asked Price what had happened, one hand lifting to his mask. A last vestige of strength surged through him as he reached up to grab her wrist. Her eyes snapped to his, questioning.

“No,” he croaked weakly. His grip on her wrist had already loosened, despite his panic, and he feared she would pull the mask off anyway. But she only looked at him for a moment before pulling a pen torch from her coat pocket and shining it in his eyes. He squinted, trying his best to follow the light as it moved.

“Alright, you don’t have a concussion,” she said. “You can keep the mask on.” Ghost’s hand fell back to his side as she produced a pair of trauma shears and sliced through his tactical vest and shirt. The chilly air on his bare skin made him shiver. He slipped in and out of consciousness as the stretcher was carried into a surgical room and he was lifted onto a table.

Something cold swiped along his chest and in the crook of his arm. He felt a pinch as an IV was inserted, then a light tingling throughout his body. Then an agonizing pain pierced his chest.

He blacked out.

When he woke up again, bright sunlight shone through the window. It was cracked open to let in a fresh, cool breeze, and he could hear birds chirping outside. A soft beeping drew his attention to a heart monitor near his headboard. The pretty medic was at it, making notes on her chart.

Without looking toward him, she said “Good to see you’re finally awake.” Now that he wasn’t fighting for his every thought, Ghost took a moment to study her while she worked. She had delicate features; high cheekbones, a pointed nose, and a small chin. A deep cupid’s bow accentuated her full, upturned lips. Wisps of strawberry blonde hair framed her pale face while the rest threatened to spill out of a massive bun at the back of her slender neck, and he could see in the light that freckles dusted the bridge of her nose and the apples of her cheeks. Pale, seafoam green eyes sparkled at him as she tilted her head, studying him back.

Bloody hell, he’d been caught staring.

He cleared his throat, preparing an apology, but she cut him off before he could start in.

“You took quite a beating. I pulled out a couple of bullets and got your lung reinflated, but you’ll need to take it easy for a few days. I’d prefer a couple of weeks, but Captain Price told me I’d be lucky to keep you at all once you woke up.” She smiled wryly at him. “I’m hoping you’ll work with me, here.”

As if hearing his name, a soft knock sounded at the door and Price stepped in. He smiled at Ghost from the doorway before turning to the medic. “How’s he doin’, doc?” he asked.

“Oh, he’ll be right as rain in no time. He just needs to take it easy for a while.” 

Price snorted, glancing toward Ghost. “Good luck with that,” he muttered. The medic giggled, an echoing wind chime sound in the otherwise cold room. Ghost rolled his eyes, half because it’s what he would have done in the first place, half to stop from laughing himself. As he did, his grin dropped and his hand darted up to his face, instantly relieved to feel the fabric of his balaclava still there.

The medic arched one slender brow and smirked. “Don’t worry, it hasn’t come off.”

Ghost looked to Price for confirmation, who nodded slowly. “You can trust her, Simon.”

He looked back to the medic again, blinking at her. “I don’t even know your name,” he finally said. The realization had taken him too long to come to. 

“I’m Cat,” she said cheerily. “Nice to meet you, Simon.”

Ordinarily, Ghost would have flinched. Only Price called him by name. Maybe it was because Price trusted her, maybe it was because he thought he might have some small amount of trust in her himself. Just a bit. He didn’t flinch. He sighed, feeling something almost like defeat sag his shoulders. Exhaustion.

“Nice to meet you, Cat,” he murmured.

She hummed in response, ushering Price toward the door. “You should get some sleep. If you need anything, just hit that call button.” She gestured to a small device on the bedside table as she checked his monitors one more time. “I’ll be back after I make some rounds, but hopefully you’ll be sound asleep by then.” She turned to leave, then looked back over her shoulder at him. A smile spread across her pretty face when he held her gaze. “See you tomorrow, Simon.”

He slept peacefully that night for the first time in years. He decided when he woke up that it was from battle fatigue, not Cat’s presence in his room. She sat in a chair in the corner, curled up under a throw blanket, utterly engrossed in a book. For a long moment, Ghost just watched her. He couldn’t see what book she was reading- the back cover was facing him. The paperback spine was so worn that he couldn’t read the faint lettering on that, either.

“What’re you readin’?” he finally asked. His throat was hoarse, his voice even more gravelly than usual. Cat’s head snapped up and she beamed at him, scrambling out of the chair. She poured a glass of water from a pitcher on the countertop and moved toward him slowly. Giving him time to tell her to stop. 

“The Great Gatsby,” she answered, handing him the cup. Carefully, he raised himself onto his elbows, taking the cup as he scooted back toward the headboard.

“‘Every one suspects himself of at least one of the cardinal virtues and this is mine: I am one of the few honest people that I have ever known,’” quoted Ghost. Cat’s eyebrows shot up, eyes widening as a smile spread across her face.

“You’ve read it?” she asked.

Ghost gulped the water she’d brought him, nodding as he gestured to her tattered copy. “Not as much as you, though.”

Cat looked toward the book with a fond smile. “It’s my favorite book,” she said softly. Her gaze dropped to her hands. “I could read you some, if you’d like.” Ghost blinked at her. After a moment of silence, she glanced back up, suddenly nervous. “O-or not, I’m sure you-”

“I’d like that,” he said. Her smile came back full force instantly. 

“Well before I do, how do you feel? All of your vitals are looking good, but are you in pain? Collapsed lungs are no joke. And, y’know, neither are bullets.”

Ghost rolled his shoulders carefully. His stitches tugged, his joints ached, and there was a dull burning sensation where his wounds were. “I’ll live,” he said gruffly. Cat snorted.

“That’s kinda the poiiiint,” she sing-songed, grinning at him. She dragged her chair up to the bedside, leaning back and crossing her feet near his at the foot of the bed. She read softly, deliberately, voice lilting over the words. Ghost thought that if this was what taking it easy looked like, he could possibly get used to it.

Four years ago

Ghost hissed as he peeled his gloves off, tender skin protesting at the friction. His hands and arms had been burned pulling men out of a crashed helicopter. 

“Half an hour and you’ll be with the medic,” rumbled Price as he passed by.

“I’m fine,” Ghost muttered back. Price stopped dead in his tracks, turning slowly on his heel to stare.

“Half an hour,” he said deliberately, “and you’ll be with the medic.” Ghost stared for half a second before remembering himself, dropping his gaze, and mumbling a quiet acquiescence.

He didn’t need help like some of these men, but Price was unlikely to be swayed. Besides, there was nothing else for him to do when he got back to base. The mission had been quick and simple, a rescue for a downed bird. Price wouldn’t need him in the debrief and he’d only end up licking his wounds himself in the privacy of his own quarters. Besides, the base had a full medical team. The other soldiers would get medical care regardless of him. 

When their plane landed, he made his way to the infirmary. He watched as several men were carried in on stretchers and slunk to the back to wait in the corner of the room. He stood for what felt like both ages and only minutes, watching soldiers come and go. 

“Simon?” called a soft voice. He turned his head to see a petite woman with a mass of strawberry blonde hair. Cat.

“Cat,” he answered gruffly. She beamed at him, and even though she couldn’t see it, he smiled back. He was pleased to see her. After she’d treated his punctured lung some years ago, she’d come back to read to him every day of his recovery. He wasn’t sure if Price had specifically requested her presence, but he hadn’t been seen by any other medics during that stay.

It had settled his frayed nerves more than he’d ever admit.

Cat turned on her heel, motioning for him to follow her. He did. She’d treated various wounds and injuries since their initial meeting, and Simon had grown to trust her as Price did. She was competent and professional, gentle and compassionate. She seemed to know how much space he needed and she had never tried to insert herself into that space.

They reached a room, and Cat gestured for him to sit on the exam table while she shut the door behind him. He pulled off his hoodie as she slipped a pair of exam gloves onto her hands, back to him..

“So, Price tells me you’ve changed professions,” she said. Simon raised an eyebrow.

“He what?”

She turned to face him, eyes twinkling. “He says you’re a firefighter now.”

Simon scoffed at that. “That’s because the old man is losing his marbles.” Cat snickered.

She pulled a tray with various items across the room and stood directly in front of Ghost. He saw ointments, bandages, and several metal tools he didn’t like the look of.

He nodded toward the tray as she took one of his hands, lifting his arm to better look at it. “What’s all that?”

She glanced at the tray before turning her gaze back to his arm. “The tools? They’re for debridement, but I shouldn’t need them. They’re just standard in burn kits.”

Simon nodded, relieved. Cat cocked her head at him. “I… do kinda need you to take off your shirt. Well, preferably most of your clothes.”

He shifted uncomfortably for a moment, holding her gaze. She waited patiently as he stood, unbuckling his vest and pulling his shirt over his head. She busied herself with examining the tubes of ointment and opening the bandage packages as he untied his boots, removing those and his pants and sitting back on the edge of the exam table in his boxers and mask.

Simon cleared his throat, and Cat turned back to him, smiling gently. She murmured questions about his pain level as she examined the burns on his arms, smearing various burn ointments across them before wrapping them gently. She worked her way up his arms, across his chest, down his torso, and finally down his legs, periodically using ointment and wrapping patches of skin she deemed needed attention. When she was satisfied with her work, she strode across the room and washed her hands.

“You can get dressed now. You should be okay in the next week or two, just try to keep those covered.”

Simon blinked, standing to pull his clothes on. “That’s it, then?” The words left his mouth before he could stop them. Cat turned to look at him, gaze piercing. He knew what was coming. He knew he’d opened the door. Why, he would never know.

“Well,” she said softly. “I really should look at your face. Lots of your burns are thermal, and there could be more under that mask.” She continued when he stared blankly at her. “Thermal burns are basically like steam burns. There’s no actual contact with fire, but the skin heats up so much that it still causes damage.They can be painful.”

Simon sat again, looking toward the wall. His eyes snapped back when she said “It’s up to you.”

He studied her. He’d studied her a lot since he’d met her. She held his gaze, but not in challenge. He could see concern, built up from all the times she hadn’t asked him to take off the mask. She seemed nervous; she leaned against the counter, arms wrapped around herself. Her shoulders were hunched slightly and in that moment, she looked much smaller to Simon than he knew she really was. She was as nervous to ask him as he was to consider her request.

He weighed the choice in his mind, gauging how much he had come to trust this woman. Her eyes flickered anxiously over his hands, his chest, the bandages she couldn’t see now that he’d put his shirt back on. Anywhere but at his eyes. She hadn’t wanted to ask.

He looked down to his hands. “Alright,” he said softly. He said it so softly that for a moment, he thought she might not have heard him. He raised his head. When he caught Cat’s eye, she was watching him carefully. He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. Slowly, as though he were a scared animal she didn’t want to frighten, she placed her clipboard on the countertop and picked up a new pair of gloves.

She stepped toward the bed, pausing as she reached his side. With one hand, she tapped his knee. Simon froze for a moment, then parted his legs. Cat stepped between them, carefully raising her hands to the edges of the mask at Ghost’s throat. She glanced up at him, a final request, waiting for his tiny nod before touching the fabric.

Her fingers were feather light as she tugged up the fabric slowly, revealing his face centimeter by centimeter. Ghost held his breath, eyes unfocused somewhere near Cat’s elbow. She pulled off the last of the mask, laying it on his thigh lightly. Reverently. 

He met her eyes and felt stripped bare. More naked than he had been moments before without his clothes. She smiled at him, small and somehow relieved. Slowly, she reached up, turning his head in her hands. Her fingertips brushed against tender skin at his temple, then again at his jaw. She turned, opening another tube of ointment, and dabbed it onto where he assumed the skin was red. Simon’s eyes fluttered shut of their own accord. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been touched so tenderly, if he ever had been at all. He was overwhelmed with the abrupt desire for more of this gentleness. More of her.

Before he knew it, Cat withdrew her hands. He opened his eyes to watch her pull her gloves off before picking his mask back up. With as much care as one might handle a fine and delicate piece of art, she lifted the mask, rolling it carefully over his face. She leaned back just a bit, eyes soft. Simon instantly and viscerally missed her fingers on his cheeks.

“There you go,” she whispered. Then, before he could even gather his thoughts enough to thank her, she was gone.

Three months ago

Ghost breathed in through his nose, out through his mouth. He had to remind himself to do it, lest he lose his cool. Soap’s shoulders weighed inordinately heavy in his arms. Gaz held the Sargeant’s feet as they hustled down the halls, trying to find a functional elevator. Daniela ran from door to door, mashing buttons furiously, swearing under her breath in Spanish Ghost wasn’t sure he wanted to understand.

He couldn’t believe he’d shot his subordinate. His friend.

“Take the shot, LT.”

“Soap, I can’t get a clear-”

“Take. The shot.”

“-I’m sorry.”

He couldn’t believe he’d actually done it. What kind of sick, twisted-

“Aquí!” shouted Daniela. She’d found what seemed to be the only functional elevator in the building, and the 141 crammed into it. The tight space forced Ghost to hoist Soap further up, resting the younger man’s head on his shoulder. Daniela reached up, stroking his cheek and humming shakily. Ghost leaned back against the elevator wall, letting his eyes drift shut. He fought to keep a clear mind.

“He’ll be alright,” rumbled Price. Ghost’s eyes snapped open. The Captain was leaning heavily on the elevator wall, eyes boring into Ghost with an intensity he was much more used to giving than receiving.

Ghost didn’t answer him.

The rest of the trip passed in a blur. The exfil chopper landed and they loaded in, strapping Soap in as comfortably as they could. Daniela’s hands stayed on him the entire flight. She worked to stabilize him, alternately whispering prayers and curses. Price had stayed back to deal with Hassan’s body, but radioed a safehouse location to Gaz, who passed it to the pilot and graciously didn’t try to talk to Ghost. One look had told him all he’d needed to know.

When they landed on a hospital roof, Daniela held bandages against Soap’s chest as Ghost and Gaz carried him toward the door. Just before they reached it, it burst open and Ghost’s whole body sagged with relief. Cat. Her eyes met his and the two shared the briefest nonverbal conversation before she scanned his body, then Soap’s.

Cat took charge instantly, ushering her team forward to move him onto a stretcher, and the whole group rushed inside as Daniela nervously detailed to Cat what she had done to treat the wounds. Gaz was pulled to another room to be examined. Another medic motioned for Ghost, but he shook his head. He caught Daniela’s arm when she tried to follow Soap’s stretcher into the operating room. She tried to wrench out of his grip, but he had been expecting it and held her tightly. 

She screamed, fighting him as he lifted her bodily to carry her away from the door. She swore at him, kicking his shins and clawing at his arm, throwing her inadequate weight in every direction in an attempt to break free from his hold before realizing that she couldn’t. She sobbed brokenly in his arms. If Ghost hadn’t been numb from his own worry, listening to her whimpers and cries would have broken him, too. 

When she finally quieted, the two sat together in the hallway, backs to the wall, waiting on any word. Gaz joined them shortly after, wearing several bandages but otherwise looking no worse for wear. He sat across the hall, stretching his legs out to touch his boots to Daniela’s in solidarity. She sat curled into Ghost’s side, head resting on his shoulder, while he sat ramrod straight next to her. Gaz raised an eyebrow, shocked that she hadn’t been pushed away, and Ghost shrugged the shoulder her head didn’t rest on. 

He didn’t know how to comfort her, wouldn’t even begin to try- but he owed it to Johnny to allow her this. Especially since it was half his fault he was here in the first place.

It had been at least several hours when Gaz suggested that they find something to eat. His expression was nonplussed at the immediate “no” he received from Ghost and Daniela, even when he offered to wait outside the door, but he accepted it in stride and rose to his feet to find something himself.

He returned not long after, carrying chairs and followed by two nurses carrying steaming trays of food. Ghost gratefully moved to a chair and accepted the food, eating it robotically. If anyone had asked him later what he’d eaten, he wouldn’t have an answer for them.

The three were dozing in the hall when Price arrived, Ghost the only one to open his eyes when the Captain pulled up a chair of his own to join their silent vigil. They both nodded off, and everyone bolted upright when the door opened hours after his arrival. Cat walked through, offering quiet reassurances all around that their teammate would be fine. When her team rolled out the gurney, Daniela’s hand was on Soap’s before anyone could react. Ghost followed as their little convoy made its way down the hall into a recovery room, pulling a chair to the bedside for Daniela. She thanked him softly, laying her head on Soap’s hip and watching his face intently as she stroked his hand.

Cat touched Ghost’s elbow, bringing his attention to her upturned face. “Has anyone looked at you yet, Simon?”

“No,” he said hoarsely. “I’m alright.”

Cat’s brows came down worriedly. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” He raised a hand to hers, squeezing lightly. Cat’s face relaxed just a bit. “I’ll let you look at me once he wakes up, how about that?”

She rolled her eyes, smiling up at him. “If that’s the best you’ll give me, I’ll have to take it,” she teased. Ghost relaxed, squeezing her hand before moving to the other side of the room to sit in a chair in the corner. He watched the sun and moon dance across the window, watched Daniela doze and wake, took another tray of food from Gaz, and then another later from Price.

He and Daniela hadn’t uttered a word to each other since walking into the room. It was over a full day later when Ghost gently rested a hand on her shoulder, waking her from her fitful slumber. “You should go sleep in a real bed,” he said gruffly. Daniela shook her head violently.

“No,” she said. “I’m not leaving him.” They both watched Soap’s chest rise and fall several times before Daniela spoke again. “You should take your own advice, Lieutenant.”

Ghost shook his head. “No. I’m not leaving him, either.” He turned to the window, staring out across the water. “It’s my fault he’s here in the first place.”

The scoff that Daniela uttered was enough to turn his head. She leaned forward, stroking Johnny’s cheek. Her eyes were glued to his face. “No. El idiota se lo hizo a si mismo,” she said softly. Her words weren’t particularly kind, but her tone was affectionate. “It’s not your fault.” 

Their eyes locked, sharing a moment of fear and regret for the man in the bed. Then Ghost nodded. “If I go shower, will you go when I come back?” Daniela had begun to shake her head. “It’ll only take a couple of minutes. You’ll feel better,” he pressed. She hesitated, then nodded.

The shower did wonders to help rejuvenate Ghost, and he was grateful for the clean clothes that had been left for him. Even though he’d been virtually unscathed in the mission, he felt filthy. Guilty, and disloyal. The hot water helped to wash some of that away. Some. His mind had raced, the last day or so, over every detail he could have used to protect his subordinate. Johnny had told him to take the shot, but damnit, he should have found another way. There was no other way. If he hadn’t, Johnny would have been thrown to his death and they might have lost Hassan, anyway.

When he got back to the room, he called Daniela’s name quietly from the doorway to wake her from her drowsing. Despite her agreement, he still had to pry her fingers from around Johnny’s to get her across the hall. Ten minutes later, she was back in the same chair, head back on his hip as she stroked his skin. 

Cat had been by several times to check on Johnny’s vitals, saying nothing to disturb the peace. She’d only looked over first Daniela, then Ghost, concern written across her features. She hadn’t tried to convince either of them to leave. The next time she came after they’d showered, though, she walked to Simon’s side, fidgeting with something behind her back. She glanced back to Daniela’s sleeping form, then looked at her feet.

“What is it, Cat?” Ghost asked softly.

“I, um, thought you might like something to read,” she stammered. She pulled a book from behind her back, holding it out to Ghost to take. He recognized the tattered paperback before he even saw the cover. The Great Gatsby. He took it from her outstretched hand, suppressing a shiver when their fingers brushed.

Something had changed between them the day she’d seen his face.

It was like she couldn’t bear to look at him any more if it wasn’t a medical conversation. Ghost felt ill at ease in her presence, nonsensically longing for physical hurts to match his injured soul, just to have her benevolent gaze and gentle touch again. He found himself mourning the easy banter they’d shared, her quiet presence being enough to quiet his mind. He was both cynically unsurprised and stupidly, deeply wounded by the shift in her demeanor around him. 

He broke from his rampant thoughts when she stroked a finger down the side of his hand, and he realized he hadn’t actually withdrawn it. He snatched the book toward his chest. “Yeah,” he started hoarsely. “Yeah, thank you. That’s nice.” He glanced up, meeting her stare briefly before dropping his eyes. “That’s really nice. Thank you.”

“Of course.” She lingered for a moment, and Ghost held his breath. She seemed to want to say something. He hoped she did. But she turned and walked away, murmuring a quiet goodnight from the door.

He sat for a long while, staring at the place she’d been, before opening her well-loved book reverently and beginning to read. Upon opening the worn pages, he was surprised to see notes scribbled in most of the margins. He felt as though he’d been brought to a secret, special place- reserved only for Cat’s deepest thoughts. He felt honored. He read by the moonlight, storya nd notes alike, wondering briefly if he was like Gatsby- craving the idea of Cat rather than who she really was. But he put that thought quickly aside, not truly believing it for even a moment.

He devoured the book, and around the time of Gatsby’s grand declaration of love, Soap stirred. Ghost sat bolt upright, watching closely. He barely dared to breathe. Then, Soap’s eyes opened slowly. 

“Johnny?” Ghost whispered.

Slowly, Johnny turned his head. As he did, Ghost rose to his feet from his chair, taking two quick steps to the bedside. Soap opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Ghost scrambled to pour a cup of water, then gently helped Soap lift his head to drink. He saw the younger man’s eyes settle on Daniela before swallowing several times to clear his throat. 

“What happened?” he finally asked.

Ghost’s gaze dropped to the floor, dreading this very question. “Do you want the short or long story?” he asked. His voice sounded exhausted to his own ears.

“How about the short one, for now?”

“I shot you,” said Ghost. He let that statement hang in the air before looking up to meet Soap’s eyes. “I shot you, Johnny. Because you told me to. Because you’re the best of us, and you’re clever.”

Soap nodded, eyes drifting shut, as though this was the answer he had expected. Ghost wondered if he’d really heard him.

He took a deep breath to steady himself. “You’re lucky I’m such a good shot,” he grumbled. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to ease tension only he felt, or create tension on his friend’s behalf. He shouldn’t be so okay with this.

Soap chuckled softly, wincing as he did. “That I am,” he said. “Hassan?”

“I shot him, too. Twice, actually.”

“Through me the first time, eh LT?”

Ghost deadpanned. This wasn’t funny. But when Soap grinned at him, he softened. Good that he could find humor in even this.  “That’s right, Johnny.”

“Perfect shot, LT.” “You called it, Sargeant.”

“The best of us, huh LT?” Of course he’d heard that.

“Can it, Sergeant.”

For a moment, the two shared a companionable silence. Then, Ghost spoke so softly that he wondered if Soap would even hear him. Almost hoping he wouldn’t. “I almost didn’t take it.”

“The shot?” Of course he’d heard. Again. “Why not?”

“There was no shot,” Ghost exploded, throwing up his hands. His frustration was finally breaking the surface. He glanced at Daniela, lowering his voice as he continued. “He had you directly in front of him, and he would have thrown you out that window before I had time to move.” He had been scared for the first time in who knew how long. Soap’s calmness was making him angry, because he shouldn’t have been okay with this. He should have been angry. Ghost was supposed to take care of him, not shoot him.

Almost as though he could hear Ghost’s raging thoughts, Johnny let his eyes drift shut again. “You still got him, LT. I’ll call that a win.” Just like that, Ghost’s anger abated. Only weariness remained. “We got him, Johnny.”

“I’m starting to think you really have taken a shine to me, Simon.”

Ghost hung his head before looking back up. He most certainly had. Johnny had been one of only two people he’d let himself learn to trust in the last decade. “Maybe I have,” he relented. He turned, picking up his chair, and sat it right by the bed as quietly as he could. “That one has, for sure,” he said, nodding to Daniela.

Soap looked down at her. “How long have you both been here?”

“Since you got here,” Ghost mumbled. Soap’s head snapped back to him.

“And when was that?”

Ghost shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Four days, give or take.” Soap stared at him. Finally, he threw up his hands as irritation bubbled back to the surface. “You, Sergeant, should have died.”

He lifted one gloved hand, ticking off fingers as he spoke. “You have a field-treated gunshot wound to your right arm, which was in fact infected. Thank your lucky stars that Daniela saw through your idiocy.” Johnny, at least, had the decency to look sheepish at that. “A bruised bone in your hip. Three cracked ribs. A grade four concussion. Multiple hairline fractures in your legs. And a shredded left pec from a 50 caliber bullet. Might I add that last one only missed your heart by centimeters?” By some miracle.

Soap snorted. “Well, that explains a lot about how I feel. Hell, how I’ve been feeling.”

Ghost just shook his head, dumbfounded by Johnny’s casual reaction. Most men would have been in an uproar. Then again, Johnny wasn’t like most men. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Thought we lost ya. Again.”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy, LT.”

“Good,” grumbled Ghost. He looked toward Daniela. “I had to pry her off of you,” he said softly. 

Soap looked down at her again. There was a softness in the way he looked at her. Simon had only seen it a handful of times before- when Daniela looked at Johnny, when Price looked at Laswell, and when Cat looked at him. “Yeah?” he asked. 

“Mhmm,” murmured Ghost. “Could hardly get her across the hall to shower.” He was tired all over again just remembering arguing with the feisty woman.

Soap let his eyes drift shut, looking exhausted. “Where are we, anyway?”

“Amsterdam. Laswell has friends here. We’re in a private hospital.”

“Price? And Gaz?”

“They’re trying to find a lead on Shepherd.”

Soap nodded sleepily. “She kissed me,” he murmured.

Ghost rolled his eyes. “Doctors say she saved your life with that.”

Soap hummed, cracking one eye open to peer at Ghost. He shrugged. 

“Something about the adrenaline helping to push off the shock.” It made sense to him, in a strange way. He wondered if Cat would ever kiss him like that, if she thought he was dying.

He banished the thought quickly as Soap hummed again, letting his eyes slide shut.

“Sleep, Johnny.”

He didn’t answer, and within moments, his breathing had evened out as he rested. Ghost waited for a while, watching the monitors beep steadily. Then he stood, stretching before he made his way to the door. He padded down the hallway to Cat’s office, then stopped outside her door. He rolled his shoulders, bracing himself, and then knocked.  

He’d barely lowered his hand when the door flew open, Cat looking anxiously up at him.

“Is he..?” she asked.

“He’s fine. He woke up for a few minutes, but he’s asleep again. All of his vitals looked good.”

Relief washed over her face. “Good, then we’ll let him sleep.” She stepped back, gesturing Simon in. “Now let me take a look at you.” He shuffled past her, sitting on the chair in front of her desk. On a wild impulse, he pulled his mask off and ran his hand through his mussed-up hair. Cat froze for a moment when she saw him. Then a wide smile broke over her face.

“Nice to see you again, Simon,” she said. He flushed.

Under his breath, he murmured “It’s nice to be seen.” He’d thought it when he pulled off his mask days ago, standing alongside Price and Johnny and Daniela and Kyle and Alejandro. He thought it again now as Cat stole glances over her shoulder at him while she donned gloves and gathered instruments.

She came around the desk, slowly moving between him and it, to perch on the edge between his knees. He spread his legs, leaning toward her, and let her check his pupils and inspect him for injuries. She ran her hands over his face, his arms, and his torso. Her soft words didn’t do enough to prepare him for the cold of her stethoscope on the skin of his chest as she reached under his shirt to listen to his heartbeat. 

He leaned involuntarily closer as she reached around his back to listen to his lungs, raising his arms to rest on the desk on either side of her thighs. He hadn’t realized he’d shut his eyes until Cat ran a gentle thumb along his cheek. He blinked up at her.

She looked angelic in the soft lamplight. Her hair seemed to halo around her head, and Simon belatedly realized that it was in a long braid over her shoulder instead of her usual copious bun. Her skin looked velvety and he longed to touch it. Her eyes roamed over his face as her thumb smeared the grease paint under his eye.

“How are you really, Simon?” she whispered.

“Tired,” he answered truthfully. He felt so exhausted from the past week that he wasn’t sure any amount of sleep could restore him. 

Cat studied him for a moment. Then she firmly pulled his head down to rest on the top of her thigh. She threaded her fingers through his hair and scratched gently at his scalp, reaching her other hand up to squeeze his shoulders. 

Simon nearly purred.

He shifted his arms so that they circled her waist, burying his face in the crook of her hip. Cat lifted her legs, crossing her ankles behind his back and pulling him closer.

For the first time he could remember, he felt at home. Comfortable, safe. Before he knew it, he was fast asleep. When he woke up, Cat was half folded over him. Her arms were around his shoulders and she was leaned forward, cheek resting against the top of his head. He didn’t want to wake her, but he was sure she couldn’t be comfortable. He disentangled himself as smoothly as he could, but as he lifted her arms, her eyes fluttered open.

“Hey,” she said sleepily.

“Hey yourself,” he answered. She reached up to scrub her eyes, wincing as she straightened out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“Don’t be silly,” she yawned, leaning back and raising her hands above her head. “You need the rest.”

“So do you,” Simon retorted. Cat smiled lazily at him. He looked to the ground. “I should go check on Johnny.”

“I’ll come with you.” Cat reached behind her on the desk, then held out a small, black piece of fabric to him. His mask. 

He took it from her gratefully. Once he’d pulled it on, he extended a hand to help her off the desk. The short walk from Cat’s office to Johnny’s room gave Simon enough time to fully wake up, but he still wasn’t prepared for the sight that greeted him when he opened the door. 

Johnny had clearly woken up while they’d been gone. He half lay, half sat, propped up on one elbow as he held Daniela tightly to him. She straddled him, one hand bracing her as the other ran through his hair. Her mouth was on his collarbone, and his eyes were shut in bliss. Simon blinked and the image of himself in the same position with Cat seared itself into his eyelids and his brain before he could stop it.

He coughed sharply, to shake both the lovebirds and himself out of the haze they all seemed to be in, and looked to the ceiling. He could feel his face burning under his mask. Daniela sprang up, scrambling off the bed with one hand covering her mouth. Johnny’s head whipped toward the door.

Simon could hear Cat’s amusement as she quipped. “Glad to see you’re feeling better, Sergeant. My name’s Cat, I’m a friend of Kate’s. Mind if I take a look at you?”

Johnny must have given some indication that he didn’t mind, because Cat moved toward him while Daniela retreated to the corner of the room. Simon refused to lower his gaze from the walls. 

“Would you two-” started Cat.

Johnny cut her off. “They can stay. Nothing they haven’t seen already.”

Simon glanced at Johnny as Cat helped him out of his gown. He flinched internally at the mottled bruising, angry broken skin, and the two bandaged bullet wounds. He looked back toward the ceiling.

“So Cat,” asked Johnny. “How did you meet Laswell?”

“Oh, she and I met probably fifteen years ago. She was still on the field, back then. I was still in training, working in a field hospital. I patched her and John up after a rough mission. I guess she decided she liked me, because as soon as I graduated, she snapped me right up.” She turned to Simon, who had turned his gaze to her as she spoke, and smiled. “Good thing, too. I’ve fixed this one up more times than I can count, and Kate tells me he won’t let anyone else touch him.”

Simon looked away again, focusing on a scuffed tile halfway between the chair Daniela sat in and Johnny’s bed. He hadn’t expected her to know that.

“Oh, is that so?” teased Johnny. Simon shot him a warning glare. He didn’t like that tone. The younger man’s eyes twinkled with a mischief Simon hoped he was imagining, but knew he wasn’t.

“I trust her,” he muttered.

Cat beamed at him. She looked back to Johnny, smiling conspiratorially. “Quite the compliment, eh?”

“That it is,” he answered smugly. Simon held his stare, unamused. Johnny looked back toward Daniela, eyes softening. She smiled back at him. Then Cat smiled at Simon, and he thought she might have looked at him the same way Daniela had just looked at Johnny. He blushed even more. He was so absorbed in his own bashfulness that he missed most of what Cat said to Johnny.

“Alright, well I’ll be back tonight to check in with you again. Simon, would you walk me out?”

He saw Johnny’s head whip in his direction, but refused to look at him, holding Cat’s gaze instead. He nodded at her, holding the door for her on their way out.

“He’ll be fine,” she told him as they walked. Simon nodded, relieved. “It might take a month or so, but he’ll be back on the field in no time.”

“That’s good,” breathed Simon. He held her office door open, following her in.

“You need to sleep,” she said. “Why don’t you take my cot over there?”

Simon glanced at the cot in the corner of her office. “I don’t want to put you out,” he began, but Cat’s cheshire-cat grin stopped him in his tracks.

“Who said you’d be putting me out?”

Simon’s face flamed. He’d seen Johnny and Daniela in a too-small bed together twice now, and he’d by lying if he said it didn’t make him crave sharing his own space. He’d never wanted to be close to anyone before, but Cat was like a magnetic force to him. He wanted to be close to her, and after today’s display, he was having flashes of desires less innocent than simply being close to her.

“I- I don’t-” he stuttered. Cat took mercy on him, reaching out to lay a hand on his.

“I’m only kidding. Sleep for a while. I have some paperwork to fill out, and you need the rest much more than I do.”

He looked longingly at the cot again, and Cat took the opportunity to shove him toward it. Her determination was rather cute, really. He moved because she wanted him to, not from the force of her physical strength. But she got him to the edge of the cot, sat him down, and rested her hands on his shoulders. He looked up at her, hoping she would stay. But she only smiled, turning to walk toward her desk.

“Will you wake me up when you’re ready to sleep?” he called.

He sounded desperate to himself, but Cat gave no indication that she thought so when she said “Of course,” to him. He lay back, closing his eyes as his body tensed and then relaxed into the cot. He could faintly smell something like the ocean, and realized it was Cat’s pillow. Before he could overthink it, he turned his face, pulling his mask up over his nose, and breathed in. He drifted off not long after that.

Today

Ghost breathed deep, forcing himself not to panic even as he felt it bubbling through his stomach, searing up his throat. Even as his mind threatened to grow fuzzy from it.

A week ago, Price and Laswell had briefed the 141 on a new mission far behind enemy lines. It would be unsanctioned and unsupported. They’d have no backup if anything went wrong. It would be just the four of them- Price, Gaz, Soap, and Ghost- and one medic.

Cat.

Ghost had asked Price privately if it had to be her. Price kindly didn’t question his Lieutenant questioning orders, only assured him that it did have to be her. She was Laswell’s most skilled and trusted medic, and this mission called for the highest level of skill and trust.

She’d gravitated to him on the bird in, and he’d helped her secure her parachute and pack and tactical vest. She was to post up in an abandoned bunker two klicks from the site they were infiltrating. She was nervous, but not too nervous. She’d be alone, but she’d be safely away from the enemy. At least, that was the plan.

The plan didn’t pan out.

Somehow, the enemy soldiers knew they were coming. They were met at the gate of the facility by at least ten men, all of whom were quickly and quietly gunned down. Soap made good on his call sign, Gaz made good on his excessive target practice, Ghost made good on his hand to hand combat skills, and Price made good on his leadership skills. Within ninety seconds, all ten bodies were hidden and the 141 pushed silently forward. 

Ghost was grateful for the radio silence Price had called for on their way in. It meant he got a break from Soap’s incessant pestering and teasing about the way he acted around Cat.

“Didn’t know you had it in you, LT.”

“Had what, Sergeant?”

“Love.”

Ghost had scoffed. “Love? I acquiesced to taking a shine to you, but I wouldn’t call that love.”

“‘M not talkin’ about me, LT.”

“Who then?”

Soap’s face had been unimpressed.

All throughout Soap’s physical therapy and rehabilitation training, Ghost had listened to this. Any time Cat walked away, Soap would joke about Ghost hating to watch her go. Any time she passed them in the halls, Soap would get her attention, trying to set up awkward encounters for Ghost to wriggle out of. At one point, he got so far under Ghost’s skin that the Lieutenant said something he instantly regretted about Soap projecting his missing Daniela. The joking had stopped then, and Ghost had felt guilty. But the reprieve hadn’t lasted, so neither did his guilt.

He’d rebuffed his friend over and over, denying any feelings for Cat other than comfort.

“I trust her, Johnny, but I wouldn’t know love if it shot me in the face,” he’d huffed after a particularly long session of rebuttals.

He’d never seen Johnny look so unconvinced.

He’d have never told Johnny, but he was honestly confused about his feelings for Cat. He’d never loved anyone before, and he’d only been half joking when he’d told Johnny he wouldn’t know love if it shot him. Ever since she’d seen his face, the air had shifted when they were together. Ever since falling asleep in her lap, he craved her presence. Ever since watching Johnny with Daniela, his thoughts would race to imagine himself with Cat like that.

He’d dreamed about her, after that. Often. Mostly, the dreams were innocent. She’d read to him, they’d have picnics, or he’d just be in her office, spending time with her whenever he could.

Some dreams weren’t so innocent. Her hair spread out under her, cheeks flushed as she moaned his name. One hand on her mouth, one on her belly, holding her against him and keeping her quiet as they moved together in his cot with the rest of the 141 only meters away. He did his best not to think about those. It felt wrong, as though he were betraying her trust. He felt ashamed. He told himself it was just pent-up lust, manifested in her because he cared for her as a person. As a friend. It couldn’t be love.

Now, as he stood with his hands raised, kicking his gun away, he knew- deeper than anything he’d ever known, better than he knew himself- that he had been wrong.

He did love her. More than anyone he’d ever loved before.

He wondered- as tears streamed down her face to the gag in her mouth, as he put his hands on his head, as he was roughly shoved to his knees- whether he’d ever have come to the realization on his own. Probably not. 

The squad had known they were coming because Cat’s bunker hadn’t been abandoned. The enemy team had sought refuge there after a mission of their own gone wrong, found Cat, and dragged her back to this base to warn their fellow soldiers.

Ghost had breached the room he stood in now, ready to eliminate any target who showed his face.

Only one had. From behind Cat’s back. 

He held a gun to the side of her head, wrenching her back by her cuffed hands, and screamed at Ghost not to come any closer.

Four more men flooded the room, all guns on Cat.

“Drop your weapon,” snarled the first. 

He did.

“Hands on your head!” yelled another, while the first shouted for him to kick his gun away.

He did those things, too.

Cat shook her head violently back and forth, sobbing around the gag in her mouth. Blood dripped from her temple into her coral hair, and her normally pale skin was bone white. She shook in her captor’s grip. Whether it was from fear or pain, Ghost couldn’t tell. 

“Ghost, how copy?” came Soap’s whisper in his ear. “I can hear men, are you in that room?”

Ghost said nothing.

“Alright,” breathed Soap. “How many?”

Ghost turned his head almost imperceptibly. Then, as softly as he could, he clicked his tongue five times.

“Five?” said Soap. Ghost made no sound, hoping beyond hope that the Sergeant could put together a plan. He was quiet for almost too long, then “Cat?” Clever, Johnny. 

“Cat,” he said softly. “Are you injured?” She shook her head quickly. He breathed out a sigh of relief, even as the man behind him kicked his legs, pushing his shoulder to drive him to his knees. Another yelled and stepped closer, cocking his gun. Soap cursed quietly in Ghost’s ear. Cat wriggled, wide eyes still on him. His eyes hadn’t left hers since they’d met two minutes prior.

After another long silence, Gaz spoke in his ear. “Ghost, I’m in the building across. I have sights on the bastard who’s got her. When I fire, you go get her, alright?”

Ghost nodded a tiny nod.

“We’re right behind you, hermano,” came Soap’s low rasp. “We’ll get the other ones.”

“On my mark,” whispered Price. There was a beat, then two, then three.

Ghost breathed in.

“Mark.”

A loud crack rang out as glass exploded and the man who held Cat dropped. She spun to look at his body in shock, ducking instinctually. Ghost launched himself from his place on the floor, tucking her under him as he wrapped his arms around her head. Heavy fire rang behind him as Soap and Price burst into the room, taking advantage of the other soldiers’ surprise to put them down.

Cat whimpered, shaking, and Ghost tilted his head to be closer to his ear. “Shh, I’ve got you,” he whispered. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

By the time he got the words out, the gunfire had stopped.

“LT!” called Soap. He’d jogged the two steps forward, extending a hand to pull Ghost up. “Y’alright, sir?”

“Solid,” rumbled Ghost. He tucked his hands under Cat’s armpits, hauling her to her feet less gently than he’d have liked to. He reached for the gag, dragging it down and out of her mouth, and she gulped in the stale air.

“Simon,” she whimpered. He hauled her to his chest with one hand around her waist, the other stroking the back of her head.

“I’ve got you, Cat,” he whispered. Then, over his shoulder, “Price! Have you got keys?”

“I’ve got ‘em!” called Soap. He’d turned away the moment Ghost had pulled Cat forward, his small gesture of granting what little privacy he could. He’d made good use of the time, patting down the bodies of the fallen soldiers as he went. He tossed the tiny key to Ghost, who caught it deftly and spun Cat to release her hands from the cuffs. “Got the flash drive, too.”

Ghost glimpsed Soap handing the flash drive to Price as Cat rubbed at her wrists, still shaking. He still had a hand on her elbow and he wasn’t keen to let her go quite yet. He’d be damned if he let her out of his sights again, that was certain.

“Alright, move out! Gaz, how soon can you get to the rendezvous?”

“Three minutes, Captain.”

“Right, let’s go then.” Price and Soap raised guns to move out, and Ghost turned to Cat.

“C’mon, petal, let’s go.”

She nodded, but as she moved toward him, she lurched forward. Ghost’s hands flew to her shoulders to steady her as he looked her over frantically.

“What’s wrong?”

“I think I am concussed,” she said softly. Her lips were pursed, eyes narrowed as she thought to herself. She looked up at him, and nodded. “I am concussed.”

Simon leaned down, wrapping one arm around her waist and one under her knees, and hefted her up. “Thought you said you weren’t injured,” he grumbled.

“Well I was a little too busy getting dragged away to think about it at first, and then they-”

Ghost glanced down at her as he rushed down the hall after his teammates. They were halfway down the staircase, carefully checking each landing and doorway. When he looked back to Cat, she was staring at him with an intensity he’d only seen a handful of times over the years.

“I thought they were going to kill you,” she whispered. She reached up, stroking her fingers across his cheek over the mask. Her eyes were watering, her bottom lip quivering, and her hair had long since abandoned the tight-wound bun she’d put it in before they flew in. Simon curled his arms up until he could touch his forehead to hers, allowing himself one brief moment to close his eyes and thank the powers that be that she was okay.

“I thought they were going to kill you,” he murmured back, moving quickly through the building again. Price had just breached the door at the ground floor and Soap made his way to an abandoned truck. Gaz jogged out of the building he’d positioned himself in, meeting Price and Soap as they popped the hood of an abandoned truck. “Never would’ve forgiven myself if anything happened to you.”

Cat’s voice was soft when she said “It wouldn’t have been your fault.”

Ghost only looked at her as he climbed into the chopper.

The flight back was filled with quiet chatter as Price assessed Cat’s concussion, Gaz filled in Laswell, and Soap watched Ghost watch Cat.

Ghost was just grateful the Sergeant kept his mouth shut.

Cat leaned heavily on Simon’s shoulder as they stepped off the chopper, but was able to walk on her own. Price dismissed him from their debrief and he walked her to the med bay to be checked over by a colleague, then back to her office, opening the door for her and helping to ease her into her chair.

“You don’t have to stay with me, you know.” She grimaced even as she said it, reaching up to rub her temples. 

Simon froze, watching her. “I… I can go, if you want me to-”

“No! I mean, I didn’t mean it like that,” she stammered. She looked down to her hands, picking at her cuticles. “I just meant I’m sure you have more important things to do than babysit me.”

“I don’t.” Cat’s eyes flicked up in disbelief and he shrugged. He pulled a chair around from the front of her desk to sit facing her, taking her hands in his. He studied them as he struggled to choose his words. His palms dwarfed hers, fingers nearly fully looping her wrist to touch his thumbs where they stroked the backs of her hands. “There’s nothing more important to me than you. Not even the mission.”

The silence was tense enough to snap, like a rubber band stretched to the breaking point. Like a tripwire about to set off a grenade. Simon’s heart pounded in his ears as he stubbornly refused to look up, keeping his eyes locked on his fingers. He had to get the words out before he buried them too deeply to ever be found again. 

“I make out like I think Johnny’s pretty daft most of the time, but he’s one of the most clever people I’ve ever met.” He paused, steeling himself. “He annoys me, but he knows how to read people. He’s been telling me for months that I’m in love with you, and it took today for me to realize he’s right.” Cat inhaled a sharp breath, but he still kept his gaze glued to their hands.

“It took being scared for the first time in…” He thought of Las Almas. He’d been scared then, too. But nothing like this. “I’ve never been afraid like I was today. Afraid that I could lose you without telling you that I love you. And that I’ve loved you for… probably years, now.”

Simon finally tore his gaze from their joined hands. Cat’s eyes shone with unshed tears that he reached up to wipe away. “I don’t expect you to feel the same way-”

“I do,” she cut him off. 

They stared at each other for a moment before Simon said “I think that’s your head injury talking.”

Cat’s head whipped back and forth as she shook it emphatically. “It’s not the concussion, Si.”

With that single syllable, Simon’s heart seemed to melt in his chest, seeping between his ribs and pooling in his stomach with a warmth he’d never felt before. He let his eyes drift shut as he pulled Cat’s hands up, laying them on his masked cheeks and leaning heavily into her touch. 

“I’ve known for a long time, too, but… I didn’t want to scare you off,” she admitted softly. He opened his eyes to find her watching him, eyes shining again. Her fingers twitched against the fabric of his balaclava. “I know you have a hard time trusting people.”

“I trust you.” The words came unbidden, instant. He’d never meant anything more. He leaned further against her hands, turning his face to nuzzle her palm. As her fingers fiddled with a loose string, he whispered “Take it off.”

She froze. Then, slowly, she ran her fingers down his cheeks, across his jaw, down his neck to lay against his collarbones over his hoodie. She grasped the zipper, waiting for him to protest, and tugged it down when he didn’t. She only lowered it enough to tuck her fingertips under the edge of the balaclava, pulling up gingerly.

She paused again when she reached his mouth, fabric bunched under his nose. Suddenly, Simon couldn’t help himself any longer. He leaned up, quickly closing the gap, and kissed her softly. She tugged the rest of the mask off, tossing it onto her desk and pulling him closer by his hoodie’s zipper and the back of his neck.

Their lips slid together, insistent and firm. Cat’s lips yielded when his tongue traced them, allowing him entrance. He groaned quietly as her grip on him tightened, pulling him nearly out of his chair. His hands ran from where they’d rested on her shoulders, down her sides to grip her waist, and he pulled her forward.

She let out a squeak of surprise, but spread her legs as he dragged her onto his lap, body flush against his. She gathered herself quickly, tilting his head up with her thumbs on his cheeks, and bent down to kiss him again. Simon squeezed her thighs as she kissed him feverishly, pressing him back until his head hung over the back of the chair. When she broke for air, Simon wrenched his head up to attach his lips to her neck, just under her jaw, sucking lightly. When his tongue ran over the flesh there, she keened, throwing her head back and holding him tightly in place by the back of his neck. All of those less than innocent dreams and thoughts came flooding to the surface.

His heart stuttered in his chest and he doubled down, desperate to hear that sound again. To drag it out of her. He sucked harder, tongue flat against her skin, and wrapped one arm around her waist tightly. He reached up with the other hand to grip the back of her neck and then leaned forward until Cat was nearly parallel with the floor, held up only by his hold on her. She clutched at his shoulders, gasping as his tongue laved the tender skin just under her jaw. No dream could ever compare to this.

When he leaned back again, pulling her up with him, she held his head and kissed him sloppily, sucking on his bottom lip. His breath caught in the back of his throat, and then she released him and took her turn at kissing his neck. When she licked the underside of his jaw, his hands fell to his sides, vision blurring around the edges. She took full advantage of his ragdoll state, pressing herself forward and squeezing her thighs around him as she sucked a spot that made his head spin. She reached up to his hoodie again, pulling down the zipper, and Simon came back to himself like he’d been hit by a truck.

He reached up, grabbing both of her wrists in one hand, and held her upright with his other as he leaned forward. Cat stared at him, wide-eyed and panting. Simon squeezed his eyes shut. The only sound in the room was their labored breathing.

“I’m sorry-” Cat began, but he shook his head to cut her off.

“No, I’m sorry.” Then he whispered “I can’t take any more from you than I already have.”

Cat wriggled a hand out of his grasp, stroking his cheek with her knuckles. “It’s not ‘taking’ if it’s freely given.”

A humorless chuckle escaped him. “Wouldn’t be freely given if you knew what you were getting yourself into with me. Who I am, what I’ve done.”

Cat pulled her other hand free and held his face. “Look at me,” she commanded. Simon opened his eyes, holding her gaze. “I know who you are, and I don’t care what you’ve done. I’ve loved you from a distance for years. And if you’ll let me, I want to love you from a little closer now.”

Simon searched her face for any sign of uncertainty, but there was none. His heart beat wildly as he reached up to stroke her cheek.

“And if I don’t come back one day?”

Cat’s eyes watered, but she still gave him a shaky smile. “‘‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all’,” she quoted.

Simon let out a breathless chuckle. “‘Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?’”

Cat beamed down at him through her tears. “You know Alfred Lord Tennyson?”

Simon reached up to tuck a fallen lock of hair behind her ear. “‘Course I do. I grew up 200 kilometers from where he lived.”

Cat hummed, turning her face to kiss the palm of his hand. Again, he wondered at the lovingness with which she touched him. He wondered at his killing hands, touching her with the same love. He leaned forward, laying his head on her chest and clutching her waist, and rocked them slowly. They stayed that way for a long time until Cat finally leaned back, taking his face in her hands again.

“Don’t shut me out, Simon.” Her stare was heavy, sincere. “Think you can do that?”

He leaned up, kissed her temple, and then rested his forehead against hers. He smirked slightly. 

“Possibly,” he teased. The smile Cat beamed at him wiped away any fears he had for the moment, and he leaned up to kiss her again.

[smartycvnt]

Vena, Not Venus

Title: Vena, Not Venus Pairing: Rowena Macleod x Reader Summary: Y/n's magic lesson with Rowena goes a bit awry. Minors DNI, 18+ Warnings: smut, bottom Rowena, top reader, vaginal fingering NR WC: 1297

The air was thick with incense smoke as Y/n and Rowena sat across from each other. Aside from the candles lit around their bodies, the room was completely engulfed in darkness. Y/n kept her eyes closed as she muttered the words that Rowena had given her over and over again. Rowena held onto Y/n's hands to allow for their magic to flow through each other. The spell that Y/n was trying to learn was a simple one, the easiest of the old magic that Rowena could think to teach her pupil. Y/n had excelled in Rowena's lessons on the more modern kind of magic, but the had hit a wall when it came to learning the older stuff. There had been a less clear line of good and evil back then, and for something to have been marked as evil, it had to have been some serious stuff. Real life for life and blood for blood business.

"I would hate to interrupt your very obvious flow of things, but what exactly have you been saying all this time?" Rowena asked as she opened up one eye to check on her surroundings. The flames of the candles were supposed to be burning a deep, dark red, but instead they had a pinkish glow to them. Rowena had thought that she had misread Y/n speaking earlier, but as she looked around the room and assessed her own feelings, she knew that she had heard Y/n correctly.

"Venus-," Y/n started, only to immediately be cut off by Rowena.

"Vena, not Venus. You've been offering up your body to Venus, not opening your blood to let the magic through. This has turned into an entirely different kind of ritual my dear." Rowena tried to keep her voice even to avoid insiting panic in Y/n, but instead her words came out shaking in between ragged breaths.

"Wh-what kind of ritual have we been doing?" Y/n asked as she shifted onto her knees. Rowena watched as the robe Y/n was wearing dipped down to reveal the now flushed skin on her chest. Y/n was attractive, and Rowena had never been one to dismiss that fact or deny it, but she had done a good job of not reminding herself of it at inopportune times like this one. Ignoring what her body wanted wasn't a choice that Rowena knew she had. The spell was enhancing the feelings for Y/n that were already there, and if Rowena was being honest, it was startling how good Y/n was at this particular spell.

"Let's just say that if all else fails, you've got a monopoly on being a Priestess of Venus. I'm not sure how in demand they are, but I'll put out a good word for you," Rowena joked. The usual punch of it was gone though, and Y/n finally noticed the state that Rowena was in. Rowena could feel the entire energy of the room shift as Y/n's brain finally caught up with everything that was going on around them. The light pink of the candle flame began to darken as Y/n sat up straighter. Rowena felt herself cower and bow a little, something that she never would have done in anybody else's presence.

"What do we do to finish the ritual?" Y/n asked. Rowena could tell by the apprehensive way she asked the question that Y/n knew the answer. A part of Rowena wanted to tell her that it would be fine if they left without completing, the spell, but she honestly had no idea if that was true. She hadn't ever attempted a ritual of this sort before, but knew that one way or another, all rituals demanded their completion once they had begun.

"It's a bit, erm, awkward. I could take care of this myself technically, but it might go by faster if you do it," Rowena said. Y/n brushed off the offer, and moved forward slightly.

"Just tell me what you need me to do," Y/n told her. Rowena gently grabbed Y/n's chin as she pulled Y/n closer. Rowena had been alive long enough to try nearly everything once, but she could tell Y/n would be different. This wouldn't be like any of the other moments of intimacy that Rowena had shared with other witches, and not just because of the magical edge that Y/n brought. Rowena felt something for her, something that ran much deeper than she had even realized.

"I want you to touch me. Help me get through this," Rowena muttered just before she pressed her lips to Y/n's. Y/n tried but failed to match the same feverish energy that Rowena was bringing. A part of her felt ashamed, but Y/n knew that Rowena wouldn't blame her. Y/n could feel teh magical effects of the ritual, but it wasn't affecting her in the same way that it was Rowena. Still, Y/n swore that she could feel the small touches that she was giving to Rowena on her own body.

Y/n pressed on as she pulled Rowena onto her lap. Rowena ground her hips against Y/n's torso, and that was when Y/n knew that something was going on. The sounds that Rowena was making were definitely more than enough to have an effect on Y/n, but they weren't quite enough for a physical sensation like what the younger witch was feeling. Rowena seemed hesitant to rush things, but Y/n could tell that Rowena couldn't help it. The woman grabbed Y/n's hand and guided it down her body, just barely pausing to allow for Y/n to feel her body heat before letting Y/n's hand move underneath the robe.

"I can feel it inside of me," Y/n said as Rowena sank onto her fingers.

"I'll explain later, at a better time. For now, don't worry about it and fuck me," Rowena said, her voice on the edge of pleading. It was much more desperate than Rowena liked to be around anybody. She had half a mind to kill Y/n when this was all finished, but admittedly, Rowena had fallen a little too far for the other woman. However, she would only ever verbally admit to being mostly fond to Y/n's presence for the sake of having another powerful witch nearby.

"Hey, focus on me," Y/n muttered as she used her other hand to turn Rowena's face towards her. Rowena surged forward to kiss Y/n as she moved her hips back and forth to ride Y/n's fingers. It was so different from being with a man or even touching herself that Rowena's head was spinning. Being with Y/n was unlike anything that Rowena had experienced before. Even within the coven, none of the other witches had the same skill and prowess that Y/n did. Sex was different now, much more of a spectacle in the modern world than it had been before, but Rowena was certain that Y/n was on another level by any time period's standards. Rowena's body curled into itself towards Y/n as she came. Y/n carefully placed her hand on Rowena's back as she held the shaking woman in her lap.

"For the sake of your training, I'm not sure how many more times this can happen." Rowena's voice was shaky at best as she tried to suck in as much air as possible. Y/n didn't blame her as the same feelings washed through her at a lesser intensity. She wasn't quite sure what had happened, but it definitely felt as if some sort of spell had overcome her.

[astrabear]

My labor, and my leisure too (pt. 2)

This is significantly longer than I'd planned this section to be, but I couldn't justify breaking it up. As before, unedited and un-beta'd. The next (and I think final) part is underway.

First part here

******

Was this how the kids had felt during the briefing? Banging their fists on the walls of her certainty, trying to find a way to break in? She missed that. She missed being inside the walls. Now there she was, trying to claw her way through to Nicky and Joe. And it wasn’t working.

After the initial shock subsided, she and the kids – the other kids, she felt like a frightened child again – barraged them with questions. Surely there were things they wanted to do. Surely they wanted more time. Hadn’t Nicky talked about looking forward to seeing Joe going grey, seeing his laugh lines deepen and spread? Hadn’t Joe spent centuries mapping out the house he wanted to build, on a real planet somewhere, with no vents or circuitry to worry about gumming up with graphite and charcoal dust? What about the garden they could grow once they didn’t have to move around all the time? What about the pets they could have? The kids? The lives? They could have another century, with modern technology. Wasn’t that worth something?

But they were… not unmoved, they were both crying openly. Unpersuaded. Nile was beginning to suspect, unpersuadable.

“That was only ever a fantasy,” Joe said. “A fun way to pass the time. We always knew that.”

Nicky added, “We have spent more of our lives in space than planetside, now. Where would we go? There is no home to return to. There is nowhere that could become home, without all of you with us.”

“But you can’t –“ Jerrah’s voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “You can’t have thought this through. It’s been less than twelve hours! You’re still in shock, you shouldn’t be making these kinds of decisions yet.”

“If it’s our time – “

“Don’t you dare,” Nile growled. “Don’t you fucking dare say that, Nicky. Not now, not here.” He bowed his head and held his hands up in surrender.

“Twelve hours is more than Lykon got,” Joe said quietly. “It’s more than Booker got.” God, Booker. For the first time in almost three hundred years, Nile was grateful for having lost Booker (relatively) young. She could not have borne his grief on top of her own.

Joe went on, “But you’re right, it doesn’t have to be decided right now. We’d be spending at least a few more days on planning anyway. And the optimal window isn’t for a couple of weeks.” He grinned with some of his usual sparkle and winked. “You’re stuck with us for a little while longer.”

“This is not the way we wanted to tell you. But we could not let you give up this mission, not when there’s another way.”

“Well there’s still some disagreement about whether that even counts as another way – “

“Enough.” Nile cut Lijie off sharply. “We’re tabling this for now. Jarrah, go back to your quarters and review my calculations. Maybe I missed something. Lijie and Gert, pull up the notes from when we first started planning this. See if anything we’ve learned since then gives us an option other than a direct assault. Use the dining room. You and I,” she said to Joe and Nicky, “have some more talking to do.”

The three kids stood up, reluctantly, from the circle on the floor they’d all ended up in. Nile could see each of them looking for excuses to stay. “Come on guys,” she said. “This is a lot to deal with, and we will keep discussing it, and we will work it out together, but sitting around crying isn’t going to do us any good right now. We’ve got work to do.”

Slowly, they shuffled out. Joe opened his mouth to speak, but Nile held up a finger to tell him to wait. When the door had closed and she judged that the kids were far enough away, she scooted across the floor, wedged herself between the two men, drew them close to her, and burst into tears.

“You assholes,” she said as she felt them mold themselves around her. “You absolute bastards.” This was how they (and Andy, Quỳnh, and Booker) had held her when her mother and brother died. When Andy, and then Quỳnh, and then Booker had died. When their hope of ever returning to Earth had died. They’d been with her through thousands of years of loss, theirs as well as hers, and she sobbed until she was hoarse.

"I'm not ready to be the oldest," she murmured into Joe's shoulder.

He stroked the fuzzy stubble on her head. "Yeah, you're only what, 2600 years old? 27? You're just a baby."

A thousand times as old as she'd been when she first became immortal, and she felt no more prepared to handle this than she'd felt then. "Yes," she said, "just a baby. So I'm not ready. I'm not ready to be the only one who remembers Earth the way it was. I'm not ready to be the only one who remembers Andy. I'm just...not ready. To lose you. I can't do it."

She felt the press of lips against the top of her head. It could have been either of them. I'll have to be strong for the kids, she thought. I'm not going to have anyone whose first instinct is to take care of me, instead of expecting me to take care of them. I'm so old, we're all so old, it shouldn't matter. But it does, it still does.

"I've never been ready," Nicky admitted. "Not for any of it. Not for Andy or Quỳnh. Certainly not for... I still wake up sometimes and forget he's gone.”

"What happened to all that 'if it's their time' business?"

He laughed ruefully, and she felt the breath of it on her ear. "That is what I believe. It isn't always what I feel. And I remember my first death. I'd known I would die there, but when the moment came..."

"That animal need," said Joe. "Wanting more, always more. Of life, of feeling, of the people you love. You'd think it would be sated after living so long, but you just get more things you want to keep doing."

"So how can you just... throw it all away?" How many times had she questioned them in that plaintive tone? How do you, how can you, how could you. Needing answers about immortality that she wouldn't be able to understand for centuries to come.

"We're not throwing anything away. We're uh... " Joe screwed up his face, looking for the right word. "We're donating it. To people who need it more."

"The life we want to keep living is this life here," Nicky said, "doing what we have always done. Not a house and a garden, with neighbors we can't relate to and children we'd have to lie to. And there is no way to last another hundred years doing that. So..." He shrugged.

"Dying with your boots on," Nile muttered.

"Precisely."

She sat up and leaned back against Nicky, rubbing her face. Joe patted her leg in the way that meant "it sucks and I'm sorry but it's time to get moving." Joe had a rich and complex lexicon of physical affection, and she'd been fluent in it for millennia. She wondered if she'd live long enough to forget it the way she'd forgotten American English.

He said, "It's a happy ending, really," and she wanted to argue with him. But what could she say? "It would be better if it was just one of you, so I wouldn't lose you both at once?" That had been their nightmare for thousands of years. And she knew full well that losing one meant losing the other in all the ways that mattered. "You should give up the things that matter most to you so I can put off feeling sad for a little longer?"

She sighed. "No it isn't. It's just the best one available. If there has to be one."

Nicky wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder. "Even for us, there has to be. Even when we aren't ready."

She closed her eyes and recited the lecture she'd given to each of the kids, more than once. "We do the things that have to be done, that no one else can do. It's all right to be scared - you can do it scared. It's all right not to feel ready - you can do it unready. You can do it grudgingly, resentfully, exhaustedly, sadly. But you've gotta do it. Because we fight for what we think is right, and the only thing we're less able to do than stay dead is walk away."

When she opened her eyes again, Joe's gaze was there waiting to lock with hers. "Only one part of that has changed, Nile. We still can't walk away."

You can do it unready. You can do it sadly. "Ok," she whispered. "Ok."

[hinatastinygiant]

3 | Դուստր

Pairing: Uzui x Fem!Reader

The Emptiness You Left

"Suma, you're in charge of taking care of her," Ubuyashiki instructs.

"Yes, sir! She can stay with me at my place," Suma nods her head profusely.

"That's a good idea, Suma. I will notify Uzui of the situation," Ubuyashiki replies as he holds out his arm to the side. You find it odd for a moment, until a black crow comes swooping down and lands on his arm. He then whispers something in the crow's ear and the bird flies off.

"Woah," you can't help but gasp.

"Thank you again, Master," Suma nods before leading you out of the room.

Suma then leads you out of the estate and the two of you walk to another, similar-looking building nearby.

"Well, this is it, Y/N," she beams over at you. "Your new home!"

You look up and admire the architecture of the house. It's very modern and sleek. The outside is a light shade of grey and brown while the roof is black. The windows are long and thin, stretching all the way down to the floor.

Suma leads you up a gravel path and slides open the door to the first room. She walks you over to the kitchen where she hands you a glass of water and tells you to wait.

While she's gone, you examine the place. It's so clean and spacious, it's almost intimidating.

"Hey," a familiar voice says from behind you. When you turn around, you see Suma again. However, this time she is accompanied by a man with two thick, golden rings around his large upper arms.

"Hello," you say quietly, not knowing what else to say as you scramble to your feet.

"I'm Tengen Uzui," the man greets you, holding out his hand.

You shake his hand and introduce yourself. His grip is strong and confident, just like his personality.

"How did a cute girl like you end up here?" he then questions, taking a seat on the couch.

"Oh," you start, "I, uh-"

"You already know the answer to that," Suma chimes in, shaking her head.

"That doesn't mean she can't tell me the story herself," he retorts.

You take a deep breath and recount the events from earlier. You tell him about your sister and Doma, but decide to leave out the part about your brother for now. Thankfully, Suma doesn't bring it up, either.

"Okay," he nods once you finish explaining everything to him. "You may stay here until you get back on your feet."

"Thank you, sir," you nod.

"This is great!" Suma cheers.

Uzui sighs, "Now, for some ground rules. You will take care to keep your room spotless and maintain proper etiquette. There will be no eating or drinking in your room. You must clean up after your own messes. And you must address me as Lord Tengen or Master Tengen."

"Yes, Lord Tengen," you nod your head slowly. "Um, may I ask what it is that you do for a living?"

"I'm a hashira," he answers, which means nothing to you. "I fight demons."

"Demons?"

"Does she know nothing?" he sighs, looking at Suma with a defeated expression.

"She just arrived here today, Master Tengen. Don't expect her to know anything about demons," she says, shrugging.

"Fine. Y/N, that thing that ate your sister was a demon," Uzui explains. "We are a group of demon slayers who are fighting against these demons. There are twelve hashira and we are all assigned certain areas. My area happens to be right where Suma found you which explains how you ended up at my door."

"My sibling said something about demons before..." you mutter aloud. "But I just thought they were playing one of their weird games again."

"Demons are certainly no joke," Uzui shakes his head. "Especially the one you were able to escape from. It's quite impressive, I do say."

But his words mean little to you as all you can think of is poor Inosuke hiding in those vents.

"Do you want to sleep now?" Suma then asks.

"Actually," you whisper, "can you tell me more about the demon slayers?"

Uzui nods his head slowly, "Yes, of course. Suma, why don't you go see to Y/N's room?"

"Yes, sir," she bows before walking out of the room.

Uzui then begins to recount stories about his past and the different hashira he knows. He tells you about his three wives and how much he loves them. And he tells you about the different demons he has destroyed. Everything about him makes you so inspired to follow in his steps. To become a demon slayer.

"Alright, Y/N, I think it's time for you to get some rest. I'll go call for Suma," he then says after he finishes speaking. However, the second his back is turned to you, your arm reaches out and you grab him by the wrist.

Uzui looks at you with a puzzled expression.

"Can you teach me?"

"Teach you what?" he asks.

"How to become a demon slayer. I want to be like you, Lord Uzui," you say with stars in your eyes. It feels so good to finally know a way for you to protect someone in your family- your last blood relative left.

He's taken aback, but he quickly gathers his composure and clears his throat. "No. No, Y/N, I will not teach you."

"What? Why not?! I want to help!" you plead.

"It's far too dangerous for you. You've barely lived past your last encounter," he tells you, his tone getting rougher. "Suma! Come down here!"

"Then teach me how to fight and live through the encounters!" you try once more.

"No. This is the end of the discussion. You are to stay here and mind your own business," he orders, and you are immediately silenced.

Just then, Suma walks into the room. She can quickly tell the atmosphere is tense and she looks between the two of you with wide eyes.

"Suma," Uzui calls, looking at her once before glaring back down at you, "show her to her room."

The Emptiness You Left

[a-998h]

Heya! I would like to see how the Duwang gang would react to Cockney vampire! reader? Let's say Jotaro brought Reader with him to Morioh

"Aye, Josuke.... That's your name, innit? How's 'bout we be mates?"

Oh good god

They would be so confused. It's already hard for you to learn Japanese, but your accent makes things a lot harder to understand.

Josuke

He is a bit nervous

I mean, you're a vampire

Josuke: umm, hello mister/misses

Reader: Ello, yew must be Josuke. Please to meet yew koid.

Josuke: *confused* thanks?

He relies on Jotaro for translation sometimes

Once he gets to know you, he has so many questions

Asks you about being a vampire

Finds you accent a little funny

Wants to know how you and Jotaro became friends

He will ask you about Dio... then stop when he sees you're about to punch a hole into the wall

Asks you about the bow and arrow

You two share stories about friends, family, and the chaos of kicking ass

Picks up on your slang, but uses it wrong sometimes

Asks for your address so you two and still keep contact

Feels a little bad that you have immortality

Teaches you things about the modern world

Okuyasu

He is so sweet, and so confused

You being a vampire freaks him out

He doesn't understand what you half the time but he tries to

Okuyasu: 👋 HI.

Reader: Aye, Okuyasu.... That's your name, innit? How's 'bout we be mates?

Okuyasu: *confused head nodding* sure

He asks you questions about being a vampire

Asks you about Dio once... he no longer does

Ends up as your friend

He doesn't understand your slang sometimes

Does try to fight you when you two first meet

Only stops after Josuke and Jotaro explain the situation

Asks you about Stands and stuff

Finds your stoires really cool

You two bond over trauma

Likes when you talk about your family

Sometimes forget you can't have food

Okuyasu: Want to go to Tonio's?

Reader: Maoite, I'm a bloody vampire.

Okuyasu: so, is that a yes?

Reader: *facepalms*

Isn't mean, just a lovely dumbass

Koichi

Is so scared of you

He hides behind Josuke and Okuyasu when you show up

Comes around when you prove you're not a threat

Still on edge every time you're around

Just nods along with what you say

Has so many questions

Has been warned not to ask about Dio or the bow and arrow

Asks about your adventures with Jotaro

Talks to you about Stands

Asks you for advice on how to deal with Yukako

Reader: *talking about how evil Dio is*

Koichi: *nodding along, not understanding*

Reader: Are yew just nodding along 'cause you don't understand?

Koichi: *nodding along, not understanding*

You teach him slang too

He doesn't use some of it cause it doesn't make sense even after you explain it

Shares some of his interests with you

Has to warn you abut Yukako and Rohan

Tries to keep you away from Rohan at all costs

Begs to you protect him from Yukako

Wonders how you and Jotaro became friends

Thinks its kind of cool you're a vampire

Sometimes forgets you can't eat normal food, but he apologizes when he forgets

Begs you not to follow Yukako's wish of making her and him vampires

Yukako

is not scared of you at all

She is suspicious of you

When she hears your voice she gets confused

She's never heard a British person before

When she learns you're a vampire.... run

She'll be begging to make her and Koichi vampires

Yukako: Please, Please, Please. It would mean the world to me!

Reader: No what in 'ell! Oi'm not doing vhat to another person!

Yukako: *batting her eyes* please.

Reader: No

Koichi: *scared for his life*

Asks you about life as a vampire

Will somehow find you when Koichi tries to keep you away

I upset when she learns you can't see your reflection

She now has spa and self cares days with you

Will threat to leave you in the sun if you make her mad

Overall, you're scared and she's excited

Asks about other things

Tries to keep you away from Koichi sometimes

Wonders if her Stand will work on you

Asks you about Stands

Rohan

Also, not scared

He finds you fascinating

Well track you down to ask you about your life

Has you over so he can ask questions about your life as a vampire

Will either make a character, or use your story as manga inspiration

Tries to find ways to transcribe your accent in Japanese

Will ask you about Stands

Will ask you question that bother you, just because he can

Really wants to use Heaven's Door on you

Finds it gross you drink blood

Your accent confuses and excites him

Rohan: So, what's it like?

Reader: Being a vampire?

Rohan: Yes.

Reader: *vents their frustration at being a vampire*

Rohan: *frantic note taking* go on.

Sometimes forget you need blood

Also finds you when Koichi and crew try to keep him away from you

Asks about Stands

Asks about your origin and journey with Jotaro

[talesofsorrowandofruin]

Find the Vibe Tag

Thanks for tagging me, @sarahlizziewrites! :D

My vibe is “so bad it’s good”. The closest I could find is this excerpt from The Power and the Glory, where Abi tells the world’s dumbest lie (under the cut because it’s long):

Jiarlúr said, "Abihira, this is not a joke. Get away from that thing this minute!"

Abi still refused to move. "Don't call him a thing! He's a doctor. He works here. His name's Lian and he's a friend of Mirio's."

Jiarlúr made a choking sound as if she was having difficulty breathing. Abi's words finally jarred Lian out of his state of frozen shock. He quickly went over his cover story. His name was Vieraneth Dimeniesilru, he was a shopkeeper's son from the city of Kashurë on the western coast and spoke the Tholvad dialect, he was just over three thousand years old, and he had never been anywhere near Eldrin in his life. Contrast that with Prince Imrahil Mihasrinsilru, who by now would be almost six thousand years old and who spoke the Eldrin-Savidar dialect. No, even if she investigated she would find nothing to prove he was really her nephew. That thought gave him the courage to look her in the eye and pretend he didn't recognise her.

"It's an honour to meet you, your Highness," he said politely in Saoridhian, bowing to her. After so many years of wandering all over the planet, the galaxy and beyond he knew his accent had changed beyond recognition, but he still took the trouble to use the most western Saoridhian accent he could manage.

Jiarlúr stared at him, her mouth a grim line. Lian didn't believe for a minute she was really deceived. But as long as he put enough doubt in her mind, she couldn't go to either King Shi Zheng or Empress Raivíth. What would she say, anyway? "There's a doctor here who looks like my nephew. Yes, I know we all believe my nephew is dead, and the doctor's age and background doesn't match up at all." She'd be laughed out of the palace. Nor could she accuse him of being Imrahil in front of Abi, who as far as Jiarlúr knew also had no reason to believe her long-dead brother might still be alive. She'd have to explain the whole sorry saga, and it would sound even less convincing than when he told it.

Her thoughts ran along similar lines, judging by her increasingly dour expression. She looked sharply at Abi and tried another tack. "Why are you talking to a doctor? Are you ill?"

Abi didn't hesitate before answering. On the one hand this made her answer more convincing. On the other, as became painfully clear a few seconds later, it meant she didn't think before speaking. "I'm not talking to him because he's a doctor. He's engaged to Mirio."

Lian would have been less shocked if Empress Raivíth herself had arrived and personally asked him to come home and let bygones be bygones. He retained enough control over his expression to keep from openly gawking, but he shot Abi a sideways glance that let her know exactly what he thought of this.

Jiarlúr folded her arms and glared at Abi. "Do you really expect me to believe that your foster brother, the son of an emperor and the nephew of a king, is engaged to a foreign commoner?"

Abi nodded. Astonishingly she managed to look as if she really believed what she was saying. "That's why I'm talking to him instead of Mirio. I'm passing messages for them so no one will suspect. They're keeping their relationship quiet until Mirio finds a way to break it to his parents. You know how strict his father is. He'll be furious if he knows Mirio wants to marry a commoner."

Good lord. If this continued she'd tell her aunt they were a modern Suafin and Dahayes, complete with feuding families, one of them having killed the other's mother, and an impending tragic ending if they didn't manage to complete some impossible task. Lian elbowed Abi in the ribs to make her shut up before she dug both of their graves.

On the bright side Jiarlúr no longer looked suspicious of Abi. On the less bright side she looked instead as if she was questioning everyone's sanity, including her own. "This is the most preposterous nonsense I've ever heard."

Abi gave her a look of exaggerated innocence that would be better suited to a toddler than a grown woman. Lian elbowed her again to get her to tone it down. Jiarlúr stared at the two of them. Lian continued pretending not to recognise her. He kept his face a mask of bland polite uninterest.

Eventually Jiarlúr "hmph!"ed and stalked away, muttering to herself. As soon as she was out of earshot Lian turned and glared at Abi.

"Of all the excuses you could have found, you came up with that? What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't thinking at all," Abi explained, confirming his suspicions. "And it's a good thing I said that."

"...A good thing?" Had she hit her head on something? Lian resisted the urge to check her eyes for signs of a concussion.

Abi nodded. "It's so absurd that she'll never think it's a lie."

Tagging @oh-no-another-idea, @emelkae, @verba-writing, @ashen-crest, @orangeismorethanacolour, and anyone else who wants to do this! :D Your vibe: “I’d offer moral support, but I have questionable morals”.

Adding TPATG’s taglist: @ajbrooks-writes, @mjmnorwood, @houser-of-stories, @time-space-and-the-muses, @lothloriien, @aliensmoon, @rataltouille, @thescatteredscribbles, @alexwritesfiction, @moth-with-a-pen, @thelaughingstag, @diphthongsfordays, @athenswrites, @ladydawnxx, @talesfromaurea, @jacquesfindswritingandadvice, @original-writing (Let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

[imtiredofbeingafraid]

Continued from here @littlelightningbvg

“Well, what if I want to… make you something?” Kay questioned with a small shrug. “I don’t have to go out and get anything, we have everything I need to make you something right here.” He’d been right about her never having a Valentine’s Day before. In fact he’d be right to assume that she’d never experienced any of the main stream holidays. “No. I’ve never had one before, so this is my first one ever! And it’s the best first one I’ve ever had!”

There was still a lot she was trying to understand about the world. Religion was one. Couples was another. Even holidays she didn’t quite get. But Dan had done his best to explain as much as he could, and she appreciated his response to every question she had. “I liked Christmas, it was really pretty. Especially when we went and saw all the windows! It’s sad they don’t do that for this holiday too…” She had to wonder why some holidays got celebrated more decoratively then others.

As Dan explained what were included in this holiday, Kay set the stuffed animal down on the table, and moved off to retrieve her paper and colouring pencils. Once she was back she set it all down in front of her but paused, “What’s cupids? And what’s love?”

"I can't stop you. I can't stop you from doing anything." That was a terrible thing for him to admit to a child because usually a parental figure would discipline them and tell them what to do if they did something out of hand--but she'd had enough discipline in her life and he had always been told he was too soft.

"They do plenty of other things for Valentine's Day. It's mostly selling stuff though. Some stores will put giant teddy bears and flowers on display." Kay seemed like she was going to occupy herself with her craft so maybe now would be a good time for him to attempt to get some things done around the house but he stopped at yet another one of her complex questions--he let his brows furrow under his glasses--uncertain how to answer.

"Cupid is a character from Greek and Roman mythology, he's the son of Venus, his representation has changed a bit over the years but the modern version is a cherub baby who has a bow and arrow and makes people fall in love. Please don't ask me why." He has no idea why they took the original God and turned him into a flying baby and he's really not sure that he wants to know.

"And love? Some people say it's an emotion or a feeling. Some think it's more physiological. It basically causes us to form connections to those around us and bonds us with them. So that you want to keep them happy and safe and care for them. There are different kinds of love and ways to love, like your love for a family member or friend would be different than that of a spouse. Or when I say I love birds, it's not the same kind of love. I wouldn't celebrate Valentine's Day with a bird."

[uweiy]

Upside to the Down - chapter 4

(Chapter 6 on AO3)

Everything in the Harrington house is neat. In the living room is a modern looking granit fireplace, unused, with a glass door. 

In front of it, two white, simple but pretentious slash expensive looking couches, on each side of a round glass table. 

The floor is wooden and vernished, of the same color as the stairs, with a grey carpet on it. There are bookshelves behind the couches. 

It is okay, Eddie guesses, for somebody who has a socially acceptable good taste in interior design.

And so, fucking impersonal.

There is nothing that reminds Eddie of Steve in it.

He peers curiously at the books on the bookshelf.

 

"Ah-ha," he says to himself, as he pulls out something that looks like a photo album. "Bingo."

 

He leans on the backrest of couch and flips through it. 8 year old Steve at a basketball game.

 

Steve kinda looks like his mom. They have the same brown hair and eyes, though Steve's are softer, in a way. The same haircut even.

 

9 year old Steve with a bucket on his head. Eddie snickers. "Hahaha. Cute."

 

The doorbell rings, and Eddie drops the book and ducks behind the sofa. "Jesus." 

 

His heart is racing.

 

The doorbell rings again.

 

Eddie gets to the door, crouched down, as silently as he can. There is no peephole, so he presses his ear against the door. 

 

"Did he run away?" "No way." You sure he's here? "Who is he?" "Eddie. A friend, El."

 

Eddie exhales a sigh of relief, and gets up fully.

 

Then he flings the door open. 

 

Seven, little and not so little, known and unknown faces stare up at him.

 

Dustin's smile is wide, as he holds up a bag "We thought you might be bored so we brought you some stuff."

 

Eddie settles against the doorframe, so it doesn't show that he's still a bit unsteady on his feet.

"Speak Friend, and you may enter," he announces, opening the door wider but barring it with his arm.

 

Dustin answers "Melllll-lon" in a deep voice and Eddie lets him in with a high five. The others follow Dustin, pushing past Eddie and promptly dispersing in the living room.

 

"And take your shoes off!" Eddie yells after them.

 

"Whooaaaah." 

 

"Dude, this house is awesome." 

 

Lucas takes Max's crutches, and a very short-haired girl Eddie hasn't seen before helps Max onto the couch.

 

The others keep looking around, and chatter among themselves.

 

"How come Steve never invites us."

 

"I know right?"

Eddie gives them a moment. Then he claps his hands.  "Attention please!"

Immediately, everyone stops and turns to him.

 

"That's better. First things first," Eddie pauses "glad you doing... okay Red. I think you should pick up a guitar cause you," he points at her "are a fucking rockstar baby. And if you ever decide to play DnD, I'll give you a +6 bonus in courage, no questions asked. " And he bows down, as far as he can, anyway.

 

Sinclair looks at Max proudly, and with so much love Eddie almost wants to barf. 

 

"Name's Max," she says. But she looks pleased.

 

"Sinclair, Henderson, Lady Applejack, Mike," Eddie lists, and twirls his hand from his head down to greet each one of them. They nod back in aknowledgement.

"Now. There are two of you... hobbits that I don't know."

 

"So this is, Eleven my girlfriend. The one with superpowers," Mike explains. "We call her El."

 

"Hello," El waves, a bit shyly, from the sofa next to Max.

 

"Digging the hair," Eddie gives her a thumbs up.

 

"And this is my... best friend Will. He loves DnD." Mike gesturing at the boy apparently named Will, who has never once stopped looking at Mike. Eddie's eyes cross back and forth between the two of them. He doesn't miss the whistful expression that crosses Will's features. 

 

Uh oh. Poor boy.

 

"Heard a lot about you Mr. Munson," Will advances towards Eddie, offering his hand. 

 

Polite. Eddie likes him already. He takes the hand and shakes it vigorously

 

"Great!" Eddie lets go, and turns back to the wider circle. "Now we're all acquainted. I would tell you to make yourself at home but– one it's not mine and two. Seems like you already are so–" he spreads his arms and exclaims "do what you want!" 

 

They all cheer. 

 

"Last one in the pool is a sore loser!" Erica says, and immediately runs past Eddie, almost throwing him out of balance. 

 

Lucas, Mike and Will look at each other. Lucas looks to Max. 

 

She gives him a reassuring smile."Just go. I can take care of myself. And there is El." 

Lucas nods, an unspoken agreement passing between him and El, then they're off.

"I'm gonna watch a movie with Max Mr. Eddie, upstairs" El says, seriously, after a few seconds of whispering with Max.

 

"Whatever you want My Lady. But uh Red these stairs are one hell of— holy fucking shit," he exclaims, as El spreads her arms and Max starts to levitate, just slightly, as if a gentle force was holding her up. 

 

"Told you,"  Dustin says from next to Eddie. 

 

"Nothing. Nothing will surprise me in this life anymore I'm telling you." Eddie says, his eyes not leaving Max who is slowly floating up the stairs, Eleven behind her.

 

"Now Henderson," Eddie bends sideways to whisper confidentially to Dustin "where are my gifts."

 

"Right." Dustin walks into the living room space, up to the couch and sets the bag on the table. Eddie follows, curious. "They're not exactly gifts 'cause they're like, your stuff. But yeah."

 

"Well that kinda ruins it," Eddie says, but still sits down next to Dustin.

 

"So uh, there's have a walkie-talkie, you know, if we're not here and you're bored." 

 

"My trusted companion." Eddie states, as Dustin passes it along, and he weighs it in his hand.

 

"...And if we don't answer" Eddie rummages through the bag, and pulls out... Something, that he waves in front of Eddie's face. "Ta dah! Some of your tapes." 

 

Eddie almost rips them out of Dustin's hands. "Henderson you're a saint." And presses them against his face. "Oh my beloved." 

 

Dustin lowers his eyes a little, eyes downcast. "I'm sorry about your guitar."

 

Eddie has been trying not to think too hard about it. He puts his hand on his heart. "It's okay" he sighs, dramatically. "We had a good run, her and I. Maybe we were just not meant to be. And she had a good ending yeah?"

 

"For sure. For sure she did." Dustin looks up and there are tears in his eyes. He sniffles.

 

Oh no. "Hey hey hey. You don't get to be more heartbroken than me, alright?" 

 

"I'm sorry!"Tears start to run down Dustin's face. "Now that it's started I can't, stop iit—" and there it is, the kid's bawling.

 

"My brother in Christ" Eddie checks quickly — no one around — opens his arms, and draws him into a hug. "Cm'ere."  He pats Dustin's head, keeping him there. 

 

Until the crying dies down.

 

"Thanks man," Dustin says. He shakes himself. "Blblblblvlb." 

 

"You all right there?" 

 

"Yup. All-righty. A-okay. Pheeew." Henderson exhales to steady himself. "Anyway, last thing," he turns back to the backpack, plunges his arm into it, and pulls out a considerably sized box. "your DnD stuff.

 

"Just in case you wanted to... Prepare the next campaign or something?" he says, not managing to hide the hopeful tone in his voice.

 

Eddie takes the box as if frozen. His fingers lightly trace the opening of the red metal Box, feeling where the lid connects to the box. The box pops open with a click, and Eddie sets the onto the couch. 

 

There are all his books, his binders, his papers, his figurines, his set of dice. He sifts through the pages, transfixed.

 

"Eddie?"

 

"Henderson. Uhm," He sounds more vulnerable than he has ever been, with Dustin around anyway. "I love Hellfire with all of my heart, you know I do."

 

"Obviously," Dustin nods. Then opens his mouth as if to speak and closes it again. Eddie can see the gears turning. "I feel like there's a 'but' there." 

 

"You lot... Have been through enough shit," Eddie states. "I mean. The name is kind of sullied now."

 

Dustin mulls it over.

 

"What about the lost sheep?" He says. 

 

"What about them?"

 

"False conformity. That's what's killing the kiiiids"  Dustin mimics. Eddie snorts. 

 

"You taught us that if liking a game made us freaks, then it was okay to be freaks. You made us feel like...  Like we belonged." Dustin asserts.  "Not to mention you are the best and most metal DM I have ever had the honor to campaign with."

 

Eddie doesn't know what to answer to that. He settles for "Obviously."

 

"Yeah. So let's not let them take that away from us." Dustin insists. "Though we could always change the name," he adds.

 

"And what do you suggest, Henderson the Great?"

 

"Hm." Dustin frowns, thinking hard. "Vecna's... middle finger?"

 

"That's terrible."

 

"Oh ooh how about 'Biter Bats."

 

"Right." Eddie shakes his head. "I've decided. Hellfire it was, Hellfire it shall remain."

 

"Yesssssah!" Henderson jumps on the couch and makes a victory fist. 

 

"Better get to work on that campaign then,"Eddie says. Then after a beat,"wanna help?" 

 

Dustin's jaw drops. 

 

"For real?"

 

"Yeahp. Not gonna tell you what I'll be planning, exactly obviously but. I could teach you the basics and stuff. If you want." Eddie rubs his neck. Shit he's getting soft. 

 

But it's hard to not be, with Henderson looking at him with such awe, eyes twinkling with excitement. It feels good to be admired sometimes.

 

"Is that even a question??"

 

"Okay then. Let's get to it."

 

 

__

 

 

"Ooh. Smells rancid in here." Erica comments when she trudges back in a few hours later, hair still dripping.

 

Eddie is laying with his stomach on the couch, propping himself up on his elbows. Dustin has papers sprawled all over the tables the opposite couch, the floor, one pencil behind his ear, and one in his hand, frantically writing down what Eddie is dictating. 

 

"Have you been at it all afternoon?" Mike asks.

 

"Yeah." Dustin answers "We're working on this new monster?"

"It's called—" Eddie interjects, making a 'dramatic reveal' kind of hand movement "the Steve."  

"Seriously?" 

"Oh a Steve can be terrifying, lady Applejack."

"It sucks at close fist-fights, but give him a bat-shaped object—" Dustin reads from the paper he's holding. "—and the Steve becomes unstoppable. The Steve," he continues "is at its most powerful when it has to take care of someone. It then turns into its ultimate momma-Steve form."

 

Eddie nods along. "And voilà."

"Eeeh, seems about right." Lucas agrees.

"So," Mike asks Eddie. "you've experienced it too?" 

"Oh yeah," Eddie agrees. "Terrifying. And kinda hot, if I'm honest?"

Mike, Lucas, and Erica simultaneously pull a face. "Ugh."

"What-ever," Erica says, and it sounds like 'I am already so done with this shit'. "Is there anything to eat in this house?"

Eddie rolls onto his back, grinning. "Kitchen is over here. Oh and get some popcorn for the ladies upstairs." 

Lucas holds his thumbs up, following Erica.

Suddenly, a plastic bag crashes to the floor.

"What," Steve says, looking at the utter chaos that was once his living room "the fuck." 

Read on AO3 (in progress)

___

<<Previous // next >

AO3 has two more contextual chapters between the 1 and 2 Tumblr chapters. That is why the numbering is different.

[citrusreadstoa]

Reading The Dark Prophecy: Chapter 3 (SPOILERS)

"Some old lady drops the mic / And kills everyone" That's a much larger mic than I expected. Or the people are a lot smaller. Maybe both.

"I volunteer for death!" Insert Katniss jokes. Apollo, I understand the situation was dire, but...

"What would you consider yourself, Calypso? A Titan? A demi-Titan?" Exactly what I've been wondering since she was introduced in The Battle of the Labyrinth. She exists in, like, a weird limbo zone (Hey, just like her island!). "Calypso cleared her throat with a noise that sounded suspiciously like idiot." So she considers herself an idiot? Got it.

"You're breaking my rhythm." Oh gods, is he singing this? "most worthless of teens!" Every time they repeat this, I am reminded that they're trying to make this somewhat musical and I just. I can't keep a straight face.

"making his way toward the bulldozer under the guise of an interpretive dance routine" I'd love to see this. I can guarantee you that what he's doing is so painfully obvious that the only reason he hasn't been called out yet is because the blemmyae don't want to accidentally insult his "dancing."

"Vary your adjectives" Cut her some slack, she's halfway into shock. She's doin' her best.

"stapled the bulldozer operator . . . right where his actual eyes would be." AAAAHHHHH my worst fear being realized! "Our friend is only giving you a dramatic interpretation of how we beat the Cyclopes." HAHAHAHA this poor little pathetic excuse--

"They're getting away!" "No, not at all! . . . You see, we traveled for many weeks like this..." I am fully laughing now. Also, many weeks? Half of it I chalk up to Apollo's exaggerated interpretation of events which he admittedly does all the time and not a single word out of his mouth when he's recalling a story can be trusted, and the other half I attribute to Festus being wonky. "Imagine you are Camp Half-Blood . . . and we are traveling away from you." HAHAHAHAHAAAA

"our getaway ride shuddered to a halt." Wow, I expected the bulldozer to last a lot longer. More than a page, at least. All that interpretive dance for nothing...

"The naming celebration is in three days" Is someone being born? Is a new building being opened? If it's a baby, I hope the baby doesn't end up dying or something. It's innocent in all this! "the main attractions in his slave procession!" Meg got demoted by a lot, huh?

"Suddenly an arrow" ARTEMIS. Don't even finish your sentence. It's Artemis. "A shrill whistle" NEVER MIND, IT'S HER HUNTERS. I don't need to read further. It's the Hunters. Every time a whistle sounds in these three series, I swear, it's the Hunters. Every time they describe the Hunters of Artemis entering a scene, it's gradual and dramatic with clue after clue in separate sentences or even paragraphs like, first it's an arrow. Then there's the whistle. And the wolves. And then some girl does a dramatic pose in an iconic parka like jumping down and landing in front of them or epically lowering a bow from on top of a tree far away. It's the moviest cinema thing ever.

"this woman was at least sixty years old" What??? I was so convinced. There wouldn't be any Hunters this old, right? I know they've made some exceptions for older teens, but this seems pushing it.

"sweeping red targeting lasers in every direction." Awfully modern technology for them.

"And that ghost you saw--that was Agamethus." Agamethus? I only know Brieanna. Is this some kind of underground resistance against the Triumvirate? Have we officially met the communists?

"the bomb-diggity." "Thank you.. I think." Hey! You never question when someone calls your crossbow trinkets the bomb-diggity! It's the highest of compliments.

"'If you knew Zoë, then you must be one of my sister's Hunters. But you can't be. You're...' I stopped myself before I could say old and dying." Good job, Apollo. OMG is this an ex-Hunter who broke her oath? Did she fall in love with someone and have to leave? If she is, it would explain the dramatic entrance. Holy geez, what if it was Apollo? 'Cause he keeps flirting with his sister's Hunters, it wouldn't be surprising if it worked at least once.

"Come, I'll take you to the Waystation." Holy guacamole, this is an underground resistance. It's all about the principle, baby!

[lessthanpure]

Evandria and Certak Chapter 2

Summary: Getting to know each other.

Tags: modern royalty, werewolves, A/B/O dynamics, forced marriage, slow burn (as slow as i’m capable of writing anyway)

No warnings in this chapter but they will come.

Wordcount: 3203

18+ only

Rating: Explicit (well, not really, but the fic will be porny so that's why)

ao3 link

The two weeks are boring . But Skylar learns some small things about Kyle, almost accidentally. She learns that he loves to read, especially mysteries, and can get engrossed in a book for hours and forget to do anything else. So she puts food in front of him when it comes and he barely takes his eyes off the page to eat. 

Kyle also likes to watch her play Minecraft because he sucks at it. He watches her kill enemies with ease and build complicated redstone contraptions, asking question after question. She answers them all patiently and shows him tutorials that she learned from and gives him tips and tricks she’s picked up over the years.

Then Skylar sees him pick up a paper and pencil and ‘doodle.’ It turns out gorgeous, swirling patterns that fill up the page in the outline of a person. She compliments it and he turns bright red. But he does draw more for her, showing her the ‘good’ drawings he saved on his phone. He always finds some fault or other in them. “Kyle, no one is ever harder on you than you,” Skylar says when he’s ripping apart his own piece. “No one can see your vision in your head, and so when they see it they don’t know where it exactly lines up,” she points out.

Skylar is nervous but reads him some of her poetry. Kyle listens, enraptured. He compliments the way she can ‘weave words’ and make him think about things from a different angle. Her own face must be bright red when he finishes. She also reads him some of her short stories and he laughs at the right parts and gasps at others. 

“You could publish,” Kyle exclaims. “People would go nuts for it.”

“If I ever did, I would use a pen name,” Skylar shrugs. “I don’t want someone to pick it up just because a high lord’s daughter wrote it.”

“Your work would stand on its own,” he promises. She smiles. 

At the end of the two weeks, they leave the room. They go to the informal dining room and have breakfast together. Royal Advisor Raymond walks in and smirks at them. He inhales deeply and his smirk gets even more predatory.

“Hi, Kyle,” Royal Advisor Raymond says, sitting across from his cousin. “How was your honeymoon,” he asks, folding his hands on the table. Skylar feels her face heat up. 

“Fine, Ray,” Kyle says, glaring at him.

“I’m glad.” The Royal Advisor looks at Skylar. “And how did you like the two weeks you were alone with your husband,” he asks.

“Very much, Royal Advisor Raymond.”

“Call me Ray. After all, we’re family now.”

“Ray,” she repeats.

“I’m glad you two enjoyed yourselves,” Ray smiles and stands. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” he says. He walks away. 

Kyle watches Ray leave, gut tightening. Skylar doesn’t notice and keeps eating. 

Ray is smug as he walks. Kyle hadn’t claimed Skylar. This should be fun. He secures an audience with his King and approaches him. Ray stands with his hands behind his back and spine straight. “What is it, Ray,” King Rowland asks. 

“I just came back from breakfast with Crown Prince Kyle and his new bride, Your Majesty.”

“And that is of interest to me why?”

“Because she hasn’t been claimed.”

King Rowland stills and Ray watches, barely suppressing his smirk, as his eyes grow thunderous. “Are you sure?”

“Quite, Your Highness.”

“I’ll summon them at once. Thank you for the information, Ray.” Ray bows his head. He waits to be dismissed. “Ray,” his King says, pensive.

“Yes, sire?”

“I don’t think that Lady Skylar and my son are the best match,” he admits. Ray’s mind starts to work.

“Of course they aren’t, Your Highness. A Crown Prince and the youngest daughter of a high lord are hardly equal.”

“My thinking exactly, Ray.” King Rowland steeples his fingers and thinks. “But this alliance is important,” he muses. “And I hardly want Lady Skylar to be wed to a Second Prince- she isn’t a match even for him.” King Rowland sighs deeply.

“Permission to speak freely, sire,” Ray asks.

“Permission granted.”

“What if I were to wed her,” Ray asks. King Rowland looks at him, thinking. 

“Go on.”

“The Royal Advisor is a suitable choice,” Ray continues, keeping his expression and voice earnest and helpful instead of lustful. “High enough not to be seen as an insult, but not directly connected to the royal family. That would free both Princes to wed people more…appropriate,” he offers. 

King Rowland tilts his chin up slightly, examining Ray. “Do you have any ideas on how to get Lady Skylar away from my son?”

“Not currently,” Ray says. “But there are ways to do it, if she remains unclaimed.”

“You think my son would willingly hand her over,” King Rowland asks, eyebrow raised.

“There must be some reason he didn’t claim her. Perhaps if you discovered why, it would make it easier.”

King Rowland hums. “You’ve given me a great deal to think about, Ray. You may go.”

Ray bows and turns on his heel, leaving the room. Ray smirks as soon as he’s out. 

King Rowland takes some time alone to think. Ray makes excellent points- he’s the Royal Advisor for a reason, after all. He’s counseled his King well over the years. And King Rowland trusts him to provide the same sound advice to his son once he is gone. 

King Rowland rubs his chin. Lady Skylar wedded to Ray? That’s an interesting idea. If they can manage it, it would be a fine choice. As Ray pointed out, he’s high-ranking yet not directly royalty. If he’s right and Kyle hasn’t claimed Lady Skylar yet, it would make it easier. Perhaps his son isn’t interested in her. And why would he be? She’s the youngest daughter of a mere high lord. She hasn’t had the proper upbringing to be able to match him in the slightest. Kyle is most likely bored, especially after two weeks. After all, if he hasn’t claimed her yet there’s a slim chance he will in the future. And King Rowland isn’t blind- he can see the girl is beautiful. Long brown hair, lightly tanned skin, warm almost-honey colored eyes, a full figure. He sends a guard to fetch the hopefully-not-happily wedded couple. 

“Crown Prince Kyle,” a guard says. 

“Yes,” Kyle turns. He and Skylar had finished eating and were just talking. 

“King Rowland desires to speak with you and your wife.”

“Of course,” Kyle nods. He stands and Skylar follows him. She’s nervous. Why would Kyle’s father want to see her?

They’re led to the visiting council room. The guard posted outside knocks. The door is opened and Kyle and Skylar walk through. The door is shut behind them. 

“Father,” Kyle says, approaching where his father is seated at one of the chairs at the round table. Skylar follows him. 

“Kyle. I trust that you enjoyed these past couple weeks with your new bride,” King Rowland says. Skylar’s face heats up even more than when Ray had said it. 

“I have.”

“Good. Lady Skylar? Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Excellent. Lady Skylar, you may go. Kyle, a private word,” King Rowland says. Kyle nods and Skylar bows- she isn’t wearing a skirt- before she leaves. 

Skylar checks the time and goes to where Kim likes to go between her duties- the garden. She finds her friend sitting on the grass under an oak, face turned towards the sun. “Kim,” Skylar calls.

“Hey, Sky,” Kim grins. Skylar sits next to her and sighs. “What’s up?”

“Kyle’s with his dad,” Skylar explains. “And I needed someone to talk to.”

“What’s wrong,” Kim asks gently. 

“I don’t know,” Skylar sighs. “Everyone that isn’t a Beta we’ve spoken to seems to want to know what Kyle and I did the past couple weeks,” she blushes. 

“Ugh. I’m glad I’m a Beta. From what you’ve told me, there’s too much knowing going on. Being able to smell when my parents bone? No thanks,” Kim snorts.

Skylar laughs. “Yeah, that takes some getting used to. Smelling emotions is weird,” she shrugs. “Knowing when someone’s angry or turned on sucks. Useful at times, but still sucks.”

Kyle looks at his father, who looks pensive. “Kyle,” King Rowland says. “Is there a reason you haven’t claimed Lady Skylar?”

“Father,” Kyle protests. “That’s personal.”

“If there’s an issue, I can help.”

“There’s no issue. Thank you for your concern.”

“But you haven’t claimed her, correct?”

“Correct,” Kyle says. It’s no use lying- the nose knows. 

“Why not? Is it because she’s beneath your station?”

“No,” Kyle says. “Father, I don’t want to talk about this,” he admits.

“Kyle, you know how important this alliance is for us,” King Rowland says. “If you don’t claim her soon, King Windham might get offended.”

“There’s no offense intended.”

“I understand that. But King Windham might not.”

Kyle sighs. “I never wanted this,” Kyle says quietly. 

“The marriage?”

“Yes.”

“There’s still time. I can figure something out,” King Rowland assures him. 

“No thank you, Father. I’ll stay with Skylar. I’ll get used to it.”

“Alright. But if there’s anything you want to talk about, I’m here.”

“Thank you, Father.”

“You may go.”

Kyle bows and leaves. As he walks back to the informal dining room, he thinks. It’s true- he never wanted this marriage. And neither did Skylar. But if this is what peace means, he’ll do it. After all, his parents have an arranged marriage and they seem happy. Skylar seems kind and he’s sure he’ll grow comfortable with her soon. He takes his phone out of his pocket and sends Skylar a text asking where she is. She replies within five minutes. 

He gets a servant to bring him to the gardens. He soon hears women laughing and follows it. Skylar is sitting with Kim and they’re both happy, talking with their hands and nudging each other. He watches for a few seconds. Skylar’s face is relaxed and she has a nice laugh- it’s loud and unapologetic, just like her. It’s not the controlled, polite laughter of the women of other royal families he’s met. 

“Oh my God, have you ever gently pushed over a big dog,” Kim asks.

“Of course,” Skylar giggles. “They act so surprised.”

“They seem like they’re thinking ‘whatever has happened to me,’” Kim says in a falsely posh voice. “‘But nay! Perhaps I shall make the best of it.’” Skylar rolls onto her back and clutches her stomach, laughing. “‘I might take a nap. Perhaps I may even get lovely belly scratches! The possibilities are endless!’” Skylar’s laughter turns silent and she smacks at Kim. “Meanwhile little dogs are like ‘Vengeance! Death before dishonor! I shall slay whoever has the audacity to push Muffins, the first of his name!’”

“Oh my God, Kim,” Skylar chokes out before dissolving back into laughter. Kyle smiles. Kim starts to chuckle. 

Skylar’s laugh starts to fade and then Kim lunges, getting on top of Skylar and tickling her. Skylar’s laugh comes back full-force as she squirms. “Kim!”

Kyle approaches. “Am I interrupting something,” he asks.

Kim looks over her shoulder and grins at him. She rolls off of Skylar and they’re both now propped up on their elbows, laying back. Skylar is still giggling. Skylar reaches out and taps the grass next to her. “Come sit with us,” she offers, smiling.

“I’ll get grass stains.”

“They wash out. Come on, Kyle!”

Kyle pauses but sits cross-legged in front of Skylar. “You seem like you’re having fun,” he says gently.

“I am,” Skylar smiles. “Kim is hilarious,” she nudges her.

“Oh, stop, you’ll make me blush,” Kim bats her eyelashes.

“How did you two become friends,” Kyle asks. “I mean, a servant and a daughter of a high lord make strange company.”

“Kim and I just grew up with each other. We saw each other for six months straight since we were kids,” Skylar smiles. “We made fast friends.”

“And your parents let you be friends with her,” Kyle asks.

“Why wouldn’t they,” Skylar asks, clearly confused. 

“Don’t they think she’s below your station? No offense,” he directs to Kim.

“No,” Skylar shrugs. “They don’t think anyone is ‘below’ us. There’s just people who are different. With different circumstances and lives. I was always told how if I had been born somewhere else, I might have turned out just like them. It doesn’t matter where or to who you’re born,” Skylar says. “What matters is what you do with yourself. And to prioritize kindness above all else.”

“Huh,” Kyle says quietly. “I never thought of it like that.”

“You’re thinking of it like that now,” Skylar smiles. “And me being friends with the staff was never seen as odd. And Kim decided to come work for us at our estate when she was old enough. We got even closer after that.”

“Is she your personal maidservant,” Kyle asks.

“I never use the word ‘servant,’” Skylar shrugs. “It sounds so…demeaning. Like they’re only there to do your bidding,” she rolls her eyes. “‘Staff’ is a lot better.”

“Sorry. Is she your personal, uh, staff member?”

“I guess so,” Skylar says, looking at Kim and thinking. “We spend the most time together, and she helps me with almost everything. She has the room next to mine in our estate.”

“Wait, there’s no separate serv- staff quarters?”

“No. Here in the castle, yes, but the staff at our estate can take any room they want.”

“Wow,” Kyle says, surprised. 

“Apparently the staff who come to work for us from other families think it’s a big adjustment,” Skylar laughs.

“I can understand why.”

“But my family and I never believed in separating anyone. It feels like the old segregation shit- ‘separate but equal.’ If it’s separate, it’s certainly not equal.” 

Kyle shifts uncomfortably. That makes sense, and the thought that most people who can afford to have servants normally make them live together in a separate part of the home now bothers him. 

A phone alarm goes off. “I gotta go back,” Kim says as she turns it off. “Great seeing you, Sky,” she says as she stands, brushing herself off. Skylar stands and helps her with her back. 

“Always good,” Skylar says with a smile. The young women hug. 

“And it was nice talking to you, too,” Kim smiles at Kyle.

“You too, Kim.”

Kim walks off and Skylar sits back down. Kyle looks at her as she stretches out. He shifts to lay next to her and props himself up on his elbows next to her, on the opposite side Kim was lying on. “So, what did your dad want to talk about,” Skylar asks, looking at him.

“Politics stuff.”

Skylar rolls her eyes and nods. “God, that’s always so boring. I never had to do much of it, but my dad has to. High lords in Evandria are kind of like unofficial Royal Advisors,” she explains. “And King Windham trusts my dad a lot,” she smiles. “So he kind of gets more sway.”

“Maybe that’s why King Windham asked him to let you marry me,” Kyle says.

“Probably,” she shrugs. Her phone makes a soft noise and she rolls slightly towards Kyle to get it out of her back pocket. She hums as she checks it. “Ugh. Politics,” she says, sitting up. Kyle follows her as she stands. “Sorry, I gotta go,” she says. 

“Ok.”

“I’ll text you later, give you more of a tour,” Skylar offers.

“That’d be nice,” he smiles. 

“Later.”

Skylar walks away. Kyle wanders the gardens. It’s small, probably only about a hundred acres, so it doesn’t take long. He sets off in search of something to do.

Skylar goes to her parents. “What’s up,” she asks.

“Are you alright,” her dad asks.

“With what?”

“Crown Prince Kyle,” her mom clarifies. 

“We’re fine. Getting to know each other a bit,” she shrugs. Her mom casts a glance at her dad. 

“Did he, uh,” she starts. She leans in. “Claim you,” she whispers.

Skylar’s face burns and she groans. “First Ray, then King Rowland, now you two,” she complains. “I thought I’d avoid it with Betas.”

“Did he force you,” her dad says. His voice sounds calm, but she can hear the anger under it.

“We didn’t have sex at all.”

Her parents stare at her, shocked. “Really,” her mom asks. “Because you can tell us anything, sweetheart.”

“I know, mom. And really. It’s an arranged marriage, it’s not like we know each other,” Skylar shrugs. “Kyle doesn’t seem to want this any more than I do.”

“I’m sorry this happened,” her dad says. She hugs him. 

“Not your fault. And it isn’t King Windham’s, either. His daughters are too young. I was the next best thing.” She pulls away and smiles gently at him. “Kyle seems nice,” she says as she steps back. “We’ve been talking a lot. I think I can learn to become friends with him.”

“Honey,” her mom says reluctantly. “You have to be more than friends, otherwise you’ll insult King Rowland.”

“He didn’t seem to mind,” she shrugs. “He asked to talk to us, and he didn’t smell angry or seem offended.”

“That’s good,” her dad’s shoulders relax. 

“I haven’t spoken to Queen Rowland yet, but if King Rowland isn’t offended, I’m sure she isn’t either. And if she is, King Rowland will tell her the truth- that Kyle and I have…time,” she admits. “Because it seems like King Rowland loves his son and truly wants what’s best for him,” she smiles. “Which makes him a good man in my book.”

“Ours, too,” her mom smiles, holding her dad’s hand. “Alright, that’s all we wanted to talk about sweetie. Unless you want to talk about something?”

“I’m alright.”

“I can send your dad out,” she offers.

“There’s nothing more to tell you,” Skylar smiles. “I said everything that happened.”

“Good.” Her mom kisses her forehead. “You can go back now.”

“Thanks, mom. Thanks, dad,” she smiles. She leaves and texts Kyle.

‘Done. Where are you?’

She walks towards the center of the castle. ‘I’m in the sunroom,’ Kyle replies. ‘The East one, anyway.’

‘Got it. Be right there.’

Skylar walks there. Kyle is sitting on the couch, his back straight. She sits next to him and relaxes, putting one leg under herself but keeping her shoe off of the cushion. “What do you want to see first,” she asks. “And don’t say the library,” she jokes.

Kyle chuckles. It’s the first time she’s heard him laugh, and it’s a nice one. “Just a basic tour, then.”

Skylar nods and stands up. She leads him around, showing him the various rooms- the five studies, the two rec rooms, the bathrooms in case he needs one, on and on. It takes her two hours to show him everything. “Well, that’s it,” Skylar says. “Sorry it took so long. You’ll make your way around fine soon, I promise,” she smiles. “And if you ever get lost, either send me a picture or ask a staff member, they’ll be more than happy to help.”

“I will. Thank you.” 

It’s lunch and they go eat. 

[kaleidoscopexheartss-a]

her ghost - self para

writer’s notes; this self para was written for an aged up modern verse, ellsie is twenty six in this and a college graduate, events of this take place during season one. a study in ptsd, borderline substance abuse issues, being pulled down the rabbit hole once a door is opened, among other things

“i just... i don’t know. i get on that and i don’t feel anything. it’s like i don’t love music anymore.”

are you done yet? did you get all out of your system yet? thank god that’s all over. the questions that everyone wanted her to have, but she didn’t. twenty six and expected to have her life together and figured out. little miss perfect has everything tied up in a bow and handed to her. she never had to do anything for herself, right? spoiled, entitled, selfish, princess, and brat. was it true? was she really those things? the blonde mulls over the thoughts running through her head. eyes fixed nowhere in particular while she’s seated at the park, the music blares in her ears, sounding like nothing but a bunch of noise... it doesn’t resemble anything like she used to love hearing, what happened? the lay of the area is a canvas covered with trees and leaves. blue hues gloss over the scenery, thinking about the young girl that had been running through the woods in a hospital gown painted with blood so long ago. always expect the best and assume the worst. everything has her key wound so tight that she feels like a time bomb waiting to go off, destroying nothing but herself in the fallout. the bad habits are becoming noticeable but she doesn’t know how to stop, purge herself until she can’t feel anything anymore. drive the pain as if it was bound to ruin her life before she could even do anything good with it. hands dig for her car keys, she had an appointment to get to and she was sitting there like a pathetic bitch who didn’t know what the meaning of life is-

the office is quiet save for the calls that the receptionist answers every now and again. her leg bounced as ellsie sat there, wringing her hands together or picking at the nail polish on her nails, it’s chipped, she really needs to clean what’s left off and apply a fresh coat, or just get them done. she jolts when the door opens and she hears the therapist call her name, motioning her back. there’s no hesitation as she stands up and is quick to follow the professional to her office that she had grown so familiar with over the years. it definitely wasn’t her favorite place to be, the walls haunted her, a reminder of the trauma that clung to her like a parasite that was starving and in need of nutrition. arms hug herself when she slides through threshold and into the room that lays beyond it. the room hasn’t changed much at all, the furniture is moved around some, maybe to make the room look larger, she wasn’t sure. she doesn’t need to be asked, she sits down where she usually does, right by the window. while her therapist is busy preparing for the session, she’s content to look at the floor or out the window, it’s hard to keep her gaze in one central spot. as much as she hadn’t wanted to make this appointment, but she knew that she probably really needed to, for the sake of herself after all. for a moment, she looked up and saw the other woman flipping through some sheets on a clipboard.

“i can’t say that i’m entirely surprised that you scheduled an appointment with everything going on in town. it’s been a while since you’ve been in, ellsie. why don’t we take some time to catch up. how are you doing, any changes that i should be concerned about?” she asked, the woman removing her glasses while ellsie leaned back in her seat, words dying in her throat as she prepared to speak. she needed to say everything, just get it all off her chest and she wasn’t in a space where she would be judged for it. a slight laugh left her as she looked down at her lap, pulling at the fabric on her hoodie. “well, honestly, i’m really scared with all the shit that’s going on right now. i mean- someone just went missing and i can’t help but feel like i just have to sit back and watch it happen. i can’t control how fucking upset i am, like it’s going to come out of the shadows and just grab me so it can pull me back in. i’ve been drinking and smoking so much weed in hopes just to make it go away or even just push it away some. i’ve been lashing out at people, i just haven’t been myself at all lately.” her breath shakes, already on the brink of tears, watching the other write things down and making a mental note in some hesitation. “and how much would you say that you are drinking and smoking if you don’t mind me asking?” ellsie swallows hard, closing her eyes. “way too much... i’m lucky if i can go a few days without drinking and waking up hungover. i smoke several times a day, to the point where it’s hard for me to remember certain things that have happened in a day. it’s getting so bad and unmanageable.” tears roll down her face. “did this start before everything started happening?” she nodded at the question. “yes, it’s as if i had a bad feeling that something was going to happen.”

there is silence for a while, just her sitting and watching the other write her notes down. she sucks in a breath when she hears a sigh. “well, ellsie... i think that it’s pretty clear that this event is triggering your ptsd and pretty badly at that. and i’m assuming that you’re probably still having those nightmares that we talked about the last time that you were in. you’re basically going on a bender and that isn’t going to help you very much. i honestly think that you need to have a psych evaluation and you need to be put into rehab to help you recover.” she puts her head in her hands. “please, god, no... no rehab, i’ll be okay. yeah, the nightmares have continued, but i’m not too surprised that they haven’t stopped yet. i just think i need my meds readjusted. i’m not an addict, i promise, i’ve just noticed that they’re not working as well as they used to.” a silent cry for help from a ship on the ocean. she watches and finally sees a nod from her. “okay, i’ll see what i can do about that for you.” she breathes a sigh of relief and just nods herself, suddenly stilling when she feels a hand on her knee. “just know this will never get better.” her leg jerks away and she stands up. “what are you talking about? i don’t understand what you’re talking about.” a quick turn of head reveals that the window that was once there was now the double sided mirror that was in the rainbow room. she draws back, attempting to assess the situation that she could, she had just been in her therapist’s office, what the hell happened? there was absolutely no way that this was real, no way at all. it just wasn’t possible, it just couldn’t be, it didn’t make any sense.

a brief touch is delivered to wall, it’s in fact real, she can feel it cold and firm beneath her hand. but how? “you’re a good hider, you know?” she snaps around to face who is speaking, breath catching in her throat, recognizing the white clothes and the blonde hair. “come now, there’s no need to look so frightened, four, i thought you would be happy to see me. it’s been a while since we’ve talked.” there really isn’t anywhere she can go, especially with him approaching her, she was already up against the wall. mirroring a stray feral cat that’s stuck in a cage and someone is trying to get close. “this isn’t real, you aren’t real.” she said, shrinking back into the wall when he got close enough to her and he stopped. hands shook at her sides, she could feel him breathing on her, that in itself was hard to ignore, even more so when he lifted her chin. “nonsense, of course it’s real. i want to show you something, it’ll be quick, i promise. don’t you trust me, four?” her lips parted so that she could speak, but before she could say anything, she was engulfed by darkness. she blinked a few times, letting her eyes adjust to the dim light, drawing her foot back when she saw blood on the floor while taking in her surroundings. heart pounded in her chest, she recognized this scene and she hate the thought of reliving it like he was about to make her. a few steps were taken back, only to feel a hand against it. “watch. i need you to pay attention for you to understand.” the grin on his face was sickening and she did as she was told, just watching with tears in her eyes.

the sound of someone running down the hallway was distinct, the fast and urgent foot falls. an innocent soul wishing to flee the bloodbath that the lab had become. a young girl came into view quickly, looking frantic and lost. she stopped when she saw someone laying on the floor not too far from where they. it was so hard to watch... she couldn’t bear to see it, not like this. the girl approached the man who was laid out, he was still but still breathing, covered in blood. “dr. henderson?” just hearing was enough to make the tears fall. the fallen doctor smiled weakly and held an arm out towards her. “e-ellsie, you’re okay. t-thank god.” she was quick to rush to his aid, panicking when she saw the amount of blood he was covered in. had he been shot? her hands trembled. “y-you’re bleeding a lot... we need to get you to a doctor.” her words were hushed, small hands fumbling to cover the closest wound to apply pressure to it. he winced, which made her pained, her breathing heavy while his sounded labored. “sweetie, d-don’t worry about me, i’ll be okay. y-you need to get out of here, r-run, save yourself while you can, please.” he grabbed one of her hands and immediately stuffed his security card into it. “you r-remember me telling you about m-my little dusty, right?” he asked. she struggled to nod, practically choking on the sob that frightened to leave her. “don’t cry, honey, i-it’s going to be okay. c-can you show m-me he and my beloved claudia o-one last time? you have t-to promise me to run though, o-okay?” she was practically trembling like a leaf. “i-i promise.” it came out barely as a whisper and she removed her hand, carefully laying it on his head and closing her eyes. with a situation like this one, it was extremely hard to concentrate, but soon enough they were standing in the memory corridor. she reached and opened the nearest door, bringing him with her through it. they were standing in a park and he was pushing a little boy on the swing set while the woman she guessed was his wife, was busy snapping pictures on a camera. such a happy little family, they looked like nothing could ruin their happy moment. “thank you.” was the last thing before the memory faded away into nothing and she was sitting on the floor again. he was dead. the look of horror on her face was unforgettable and her whole body shook as she sobbed. and the way she screamed, oh the way she screamed, it was just heartbreaking. for a few moments, she just sat there by the body, crying before she got up and she just ran for her life.

ellsie wanted to run after her younger self, so desperately, but she knew it was just a memory and nothing more than that. she moved to take a step away, only to have a pair of hands immediately put over her eyes. “remember what we talked about, four, see no evil. you are merely nothing more than a harbinger of death, an angel of death, an ill omen, you bring misfortune to others.” the protest died before she could even say anything because she found herself on the floor of her therapist’s office, struggling to come to. “ellsie? ellsie! come on, wake up, sweetheart.” she could feel hands on her face, struggling to keep her eyes open, the lights were too bright and everything was too loud. “i feel like i’m going to be sick.” was the only thing she managed to say, instinctively rolling onto her side and curling into herself. her head felt like it was going to split in two. eyes squeezed shut, just trying to get herself to come out of it properly. “you seized. should i call your parents? i can call for an ambulance.” no, she just wanted to go home, somewhere that wasn’t where she was currently. “no, i’ll be okay, this happens every now and again. just give me a second...” she mumbled, steadying and evening out her breathing before she pushed herself up into a sitting position. “you fell out of the chair and hit your head on the floor, are you sure you’re going to be okay? i can get someone to drive you home.” she kind of flinched when the other woman brought a hand into her proximity. the blonde simply bringing a hand to shield her eyes just for a second. “yeah, i’m sure. thank you for your concern. i’m sorry, this doesn’t usually happen when i’m around other people.”

she sat in her car, head leaned back against the headrest. hands land on her face and she just groaned. they land on her lap and she just sat there in silence before putting her foot on the break and pushing the button on the car to start it up. what a joke she was, right? she tore out of the parking lot and headed to her usual spot when she just wanted to be alone. key is jammed into the lock on the glovebox to unlock it and she retrieved a bag and several other things from it. she sat there in the passenger seat, rolling up the joint with haste, tongue quickly licking the paper to get a nice seal on it. everything is put back and the glovebox is locked again. she didn’t like getting high by herself, but she didn’t feel like calling anyone, so she supposed she would just do it by herself. lighter is fished from her pocket and she lit that sucker up, taking a heavy drag from it. an exhale, the sweet smoke mingling with the breeze before getting carried away by it. she smoked the joint until nothing was left but the roach, which she is content to flick away once it’s out. with a hum, she opened the trunk of her car, climbing into the mess of pillows and blankets and closing the hatch. music is turned on her phone and she just relaxed into the mess that she had created, waiting for that blissful high to take her away from this all. the thoughts about what happened earlier slip away and a smile comes to her face as she thought about him. yeah, that was a good thing to think about, just let the world fall away into nothingness. she laughed to herself, just closing her eyes. everything was okay. she’d be okay, maybe not right now, but soon enough she would be. the music sounds like music again after all. and she is ellsie van hauten, the town’s musical prodigy, practically an unstoppable force of nature. she laughed, rolling onto her side. that’s right, she could do anything she put her mind to.

eyes opened, light crawling through the back window of her car. she must’ve fallen asleep from the looks of it. a hand clumsily felt around for her phone so that she could check the time. “shit.” she mumbled, 10 missed calls from caitlin and 10 missed calls from tabi, dozens of texts on top that too. she popped up like a daisy and stretched out, relaxing once she had. after that whole fiasco, she actually felt considerably better, but now she was out of stuff, so she’d have to fix that. she looked out the back window and admired the sun as it worked on setting then made her way up to the driver’s seat, might as well head back into town and show that she was still in fact, alive. hands drummed against the steering wheel, swaying her head slightly to what was playing on the stereo. she was hungry, she should have something to eat when she got home then. what sounded good though? that was the question, she’d figure it out when she got to it. she turned the music up a bit, content to focus on it while she drove. as soon as she got to the apartment, she got out, swinging her keys around her finger before locking the door and going inside. caitlin must’ve been at work, all the lights were off, which meant that she could have the apartment in peace for a while. she pulled out her phone, sending a few text messages to people then dropping her phone on the counter pretty carelessly and going to dig around the fridge. she wouldn’t be okay immediately, but she knew that right now, all she could do was try her best.

[koushou]

i love it smmmm omg. the megumi fix is amazing it’s more than i asked for ❤️❤️ bro 6,9k is a blessing you don’t understand how glad it made me it’s so worth the wait. tumblr is so dry when it comes to anime fics and especially w megumi thank you for feeding me something other than the crumbs this website gives me. i don’t want to be too annoying but whenever you’re free if you could do a pt 2 cause that ending omg. i love it sm and i can’t thank you enough ❤️

pairing : megumi x f!reader [fluff]

warnings : slight makeout scene idk HAHA nothing too intense though (also not proofread because i wanted to get this posted as soon as i finished it)

wc : 3.5k

a/n : ur too sweet omg and im FINALLY back from procrastinating your request again anon… (i really apologize i don’t mean to take so long pls forgive me D: ) i hope this is what you wanted!!

pt. 1 (you don’t really have to read pt 1 to understand this part but i do recommend it)

loud chatter echoes through the large modern dining hall located on the second floor of the hotel.

“i’m… so full…” a certain pink haired male burps for the nth time as he still continues to stuff food into his mouth. gojo laughs at itadori’s passion for the hotel food, while doing the same as he takes a large bite of a pancake.

you chuckle, taking a sip of your drink and leaning back in your cushioned chair, already finished with your 3rd plate of breakfast. i mean, who could blame you? hotel breakfast food just hits a different type of way.

“so, spill all the juicy events that happened last night, i wanna know!” nobara nudges you excitedly, her eyes twinkling as she pulls her chair closer to yours.

rolling your eyes, you look away from the ginger female and pretend to not have heard her. accidentally, you were now faced towards megumi, sitting on the opposite side of you. your eyes met for a brief moment before you quickly turned away, breaking the awkward interaction.

“aww— c’mon, y/n! please—“

“nothing happened at all! and don’t think i forgot the way you ignored my knocks on your door yesterday,” you shot her a glare, earning a sheepish laugh in return.

“but... in the same bed..?”

you were about to retort back when gojo stands up and claps his hand over his stomach, which now seemed just… a few sizes bigger.

“alright! have we all finished our food? god, when did hotel food get so good— anyway, it’s time to pack our things and head back home!” your constantly enthusiastic teacher exclaims, as a waiter comes to collect your plates.

after thanking the waiter and paying the bill (poor gojo-sensei’s wallet), you all head back upstairs to drive back home.

a thick silence hangs over your room as you and megumi collect your items, not wanting to bring up any events from last night. finally ready to head out, you walk towards the door to open it until another hand reaches the handle at the same time.

you retract your hand quickly, while the other hand lingers in the air above the knob.

“oh— sorry, you can go first!” you gulp, backing up a bit so megumi can exit first.

he pauses for a second, twisting the knob until the door pulls open. you expected him to walk out, but he makes his way to the other side of you instead, still holding the door open.

you look over at him with a questioning look, receiving a slight shrug and a hint of a smirk.

“ladies first.”

why was his stupid face so handsome?

you shook your head at his teasing expression, making your way out the door to the carpeted hallway, him following close behind.

the others were already at the lobby waiting, their conversation becoming clearer as you reach them.

“what’s taking them both so long? you don’t think they’re too busy… y’know…” nobara’s usual cheerful voice carries her words to your ears, making you roll your eyes and spook her from being.

“boo.”

“i’m just sayin- oh my go—“ she frantically turns around, breathing a sigh of relief upon seeing it was just you.

“you scared me!”

“what were we talking about?”

“nothing important! come on, we should get going!” nobara nudges gojo and itadori ahead, escaping you as she scurries out of the lobby.

you hear a yawn from behind you, a tuft of black hair moving past you as you suppress the urge to laugh at megumi’s already messy hairstyle, amplified by his morning bed hair.

finally, you were all seated back in gojo’s car, ready to drive back to the school so you all can head back to your own homes.

the ride back was full of gojo’s irritating voice singing along to songs playing from the car radio, itadori laughing along, and the rest of you too excited to leave the car.

“alright kids! we’re here, make sure to be safe on the way back home!”

gojo waves to all of you as you hop out of his car one by one, basking in the cool summer air for a few seconds.

“see you guys!”

itadori jogs away, heading in the direction of his own home, followed by megumi, then nobara, and lastly, you.

upon reaching your house, your mother welcomes you, asking about your day, if you had fun, and other typical mother questions.

you were telling her about your day when you suddenly recalled the hotel night events, and scurried away embarrassed upstairs to your room, leaving a very confused mom behind.

you flop down onto the bed, face down, wanting to get a good few minutes of quiet nap time in before your phone dings with a notification.

grunting, you pull your phone out from your pocket, swiping across the screen to check the message.

surprisingly, it was from megumi, eyebrows suspiciously raising as you open the text message from him. you two rarely texted unless it was about school or business-related, so you couldn’t think of anything he would need from you right now.

megumi : Hey.

megumi : I have your hair tie with me. You probably left it in my bag or something.

megumi : I’m coming over in 5 minutes.

you sat up abruptly, rereading his messages to make sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.

you had been so caught up with his prior messages that you failed to register that he said he was going to be at your house in… 5 minutes.

hurriedly, you swiped to see what time he had sent that last message. 12:34 AM.

your eyes moved to the top of your phone screen, reading the current time. 12:37 AM.

almost falling out of bed scrambling to your room mirror, you checked your appearance to make sure you looked fine and your hair wasn’t messy and-

you paused.

“why am i so concerned about how i look? why do i care about this?”

you slapped your face with both hands, bringing yourself back to reality when you were interrupted again, but this time by your doorbell ringing from downstairs.

making your way out of your room, you saw that your mom had already opened the door with a familiar tall figure standing in the doorway.

“oh! megumi, it’s been a while!” your mom lets megumi in with a smile, already going to the kitchen to make him some tea.

he bows politely, sitting down on the couch, now changed into a loose white t-shirt with black shorts.

“uh- theres no need to make me tea, i won’t be here for too long—“

“nonsense! you can even stay for lunch, dear megumi! i just have to prepare the last dish and—“

you finally clear your throat, standing at the middle of the stairs, catching both of their attention.

“oh, y/n! i have to go out to the grocery store for some ingredients, take care of our guest megumi, alright?” she places two cups of tea on the table in front of megumi, grabbing her keys to head out.

“wait, mom—“

she sends you a wink by the door, already outside before you can finish your sentence.

you sigh in defeat, sitting across from megumi on the other couch.

“here.”

megumi pulls out a black hair tie from his pocket, almost identical to the one currently around your wrist.

you raise your eyebrows in suspicion at the hair tie. “but i only have one? and i didn’t bring any extra yesterday..?” you motion to your own arm.

he looks back and forth between your wrist and the one he had in his hand, scratching his head in confusion.

“it was in our hotel room, so i assumed it was yours.” he shrugs, placing it on the table. “but if it isn’t, i can just throw it away.”

you hum, taking a sip of the tea your mom prepared as he does the same, cringing as the still hot tea burns his tongue.

“pfft…”

he glares at you, placing the cup down as his eyes scan around your living room, taking in the decorations.

“i’ll just keep it then, it seems new.” you take the forgotten hair tie on the table, and wear it around your wrist, now decorated with two black hair ties.

he nods, sitting back against the couch, silence falling between you both.

a question suddenly popped up in your mind, your mouth moving faster than your brain.

“you came all the way here… just to give me a hair tie?”

the question seems to set him a little nervous, clearing his throat and avoiding eye contact as he fidgets in his seat.

“well— i figured i’d return it to you before i forgot,” he shrugs, reaching out to take another sip of his tea before pulling back quickly again at the heat.

you nod slowly, still unconvinced with his answer. who goes all the way to someone’s house to return a hair tie?

“okay then, see you on monday?” you get up, ready to send him back off.

his head snaps up, still not moving in his seat as he opens his mouth slowly, as if unsure of how to respond.

“um- i thought your mom said i could stay…for lunch…?”

he averts his eyes, pink dusting his pale cheeks as he looks away. your mouth forms into an ‘o’ shape as you recall your mom’s words and those were - in fact what she had said.

it wasn’t that you were against him staying for lunch, but you two weren’t even friends or remotely close at that. rivals would even suit you both better than friends.

“but if you want i can, uh, leave now,” he starts to stand, looking uncomfortable in his position across from you.

it was then that you remembered megumi’s background, that his mother had left early at birth, plus his father wasn’t exactly present.

you couldn’t imagine living without your parents, and how lonely he must be without true family.

“no! i mean, that’s not what i meant, you can stay.” you sputter out before he gets the wrong idea.

his eyes seem to light up at your words, nodding before sitting back down on his previous spot on the couch.

you glance over at the time on your phone, it had been around 7 minutes after your mom had left.

the tension was thick in the room, and just when you thought you were about to explode from the awkwardness, he finally breaks the silence.

“do you… play that?”

you turn to where his eyes are placed on, seeing your black xbox console laying on top of a cabinet, having been untouched for a while.

“oh that? yeah, occasionally, why?”

you hear a snicker from beside you, snapping your head to find his lips curled into a teasing grin.

“oh, i just didn’t think a nerd like you would play games.”

you raise your eyebrows at his words. “you sure about that? it doesn’t seem like you’re very good at games either, megumi.” you make sure to stretch out each three syllables of his name to tease him further.

he huffs while leaning back, still maintaining intense eye contact with you, almost challenging each other to say something back.

“how about this, whoever wins against the other gets to make them do whatever they want. no matter what it is.” he nods over to the console, tilting his head as he waits for your response.

you chuckle, standing up to take the console, fiddling with it for a moment before turning back to him.

“alright, just don’t cry when you lose too much, okay?”

he shrugs, smirking as he looks around the living room for the other console, making you remember something.

“oh, the other console plus a TV is in my room, wanna just play there?”

he stiffens suddenly, before nodding slowly and following you upstairs to your room.

reaching the door, you suddenly stop, making megumi grunt and come to a stop, almost crashing into you.

“uh - wait here.”

you open the door just enough to slip inside, quickly gathering some of your belongings and cleaning as much as you could, to at least make your room seem presentable.

“okay!” you open the door for megumi, who makes no move to enter at first.

“...”

“you can come in.”

“... is this okay?”

you cock your head, not understanding his question.

“your mom isn’t home.”

“...so?”

“we’re alone.”

“and?”

“i’m… going into your room.”

“what is your point?” you began to grow frustrated at this conversation. then, it hit you all of a sudden.

“ahh, megumi? have you never been in a girl’s room alone before?” you snicker, shaking your head from laughter.

he starts to protest, before quickly closing his mouth and finally entering your room.

you connect the two consoles into your TV in your room, sitting down on the edge of your bed as you load up the games on the screen.

“you can sit here if you want,” you pat the empty spot next to you, to which he carefully sits down on, taking one console from your hand.

“ready?”

he nods, as you start the game.

-- --

“what--?!”

you throw your hands up in frustration, groaning as you flop backwards on the bed.

“i told you, you can’t beat me.” megumi chuckles, dodging a stuffed bear you threw in his direction.

you huffed, sitting back up, determined to beat him at least once.

“one last rematch!”

he lets out a laugh, a rare one that you think you might just never forget, and starts the game again.

after a few minutes of intense clicking, yelling and laughing, you let out a proud shout, the word victory flashing across your screen.

you pick up another stuffed animal from your bed and toss it straight at megumi’s face, celebrating as he lets out an ‘oof’ and glare back at you.

“but i still won around, 7 times, so i get to make you do something- oof-” he stumbles back again from another stuffed animal to the face.

“hmm? i don’t know what you’re talking about--” you pretend to not have heard him before your vision goes momentarily black from a soft object hitting your face, a pink bear landing in your lap.

“hey!”

“what, you keep throwing them at me!”

“fine…”

“hey, why are you getting so close--!”

you tackle megumi backwards onto the bed, throwing your pillows at his face -- not very gently -- as he tries to shield his arms in vain.

“ahh—! okay, okay, i’m sorry, stop it—“ he huffs as you finally stops your attack, his dark blue orbs looking up into yours.

you only now noticed your close proximity, quickly sitting back up to create some distance between the both of you. he clears his throat, fiddling with one of your pillows.

“well, a loss is a loss, what do i have to do?” you sigh, admitting your defeat.

“hmm…” he seems to be lost in deep thought, probably trying to find the worst thing he can make you do.

after a few silent, intense seconds, he finally speaks.

“are you… free tomorrow?”

you turn to him, giving him a questioning look at his strange question. he only stares back at you in response, awaiting your answer.

“um… yeah, i’m free the whole day, why do you as-“

“come watch a movie with me tomorrow.” he blurts out quickly, not even letting you finish your sentence.

you gape at him, still processing his words, unsure if you had heard wrong.

“... sorry?”

his face was reddenning by the second, yet his eyes remained firmly on yours the whole time.

“let’s go watch the new movie in the theater. i heard it’s quite popular already despite releasing only last week.”

“oh… okay, i can ask nobara if she wants to com-“

“don’t!” he says a little too loudly, clearing his throat after as he regains his composure.

“i mean, i- just, you.”

“just.. us?”

he nods.

silence fell again between the two of you, unsure if he was asking you what you thought he was asking you. you decide to test the waters cautiously.

“man.. it’s almost like you’re asking me out on a date, megumi?” you tease lightly, expecting a ‘tch’ or an, ‘as if’.

“so what if i am?”

now that was an answer you weren’t expecting.

“you’re.. joking, right?”

megumi sighs, moving closer until his body was mere centimeters away from yours.

“i’m serious.”

“do you... like me or something?”

he stares at you blankly. “would i ask you on a date if i didn’t have feelings for you, idiot?”

you only just realize how stupid your question sounded, trying to find a response until he reaches up to cup your cheek with one hand.

they felt soft, yet slightly gruff from constant training and fighting, large enough to cover one half of your face. they were warm, slightly trembling probably from nervousness, yet made you wish he’d never take it off.

“it’s okay if you don’t want to. we can forget this ever happened.” his own cheeks turning slightly pink, yours probably even worse as the space between your faces closed in slowly.

“but i don't think i can do this anymore, so just let me be a little selfish this once, okay?”

barely registering his words before he moves in to kiss you, soft lips moving against the other as his hand tightens against the side of your cheek. you barely register your own actions anymore, hands reaching up to tangle themselves in his hair, moving down to his neck, and finally finding home cupped around his face.

he groans against your lips, pressing you down until he was now hovering above you, never breaking the kiss even once in the process. you lost track of how long you both had been making out in your bed before you hear the front door open from downstairs.

frantically, the both of you separated in fear of your mom catching you in the act, catching your breaths while still processing what just happened.

you hear shuffling from downstairs, standing up to escape megumi before you were pulled back into a warm chest.

“wait—“ his arms wrap around you to trap you from leaving his grasp, your eyes looking everywhere but his, and suddenly your wall was the most interesting thing in sight.

“are we… really going to pretend that didn’t happen?” you finally gather the courage to look him in the face, almost melting at the soft pout set on his (now slightly redder than before) lips.

“ilikeyoutoo.” you get out quickly before you lose the chance to say it again.

he stiffens against you, eyes lighting up almost like an excited puppy receiving treats. “you like me? i didn’t hear you, so can you say it again?”

you huff, trying to wriggle your way out of his arms, only resulting in him pulling you closer to sit on his lap. he presses his forehead to yours, chuckling at your futile attempt to escape.

“i said— i like you—!” you ram your head into his, making him groan in pain, loosening his hold on you. the perfect chance for escape.

you saw the opportunity, dashing to the door, twisting the knob, almost getting it open until—

“nope,” megumi’s hand stops the door in time, instead twisting you around until your back was now flat against the wood, both of his palms placed beside your head.

“y/n? megumi?” your mom’s voice calls from downstairs, but all you could hear was your heartbeat thumping loudly in your chest.

“megumi! move, my mom’s home,” you place your hands on his chest, trying to push him away to no avail.

he grabs your pushing hand and places it on the left side of his chest, letting you feel the soft but fast thumping of his heart, almost matching the pace of your own.

“this is all your fault. you’re not gonna take responsibility for it?” he inches closer to your burning face, making you huff and grab his face.

you press your lips to his, feeling him immediately return the kiss, but you pull away after a few seconds, leaving him still trying to kiss you again.

“nope, my mom’s home, and i’m hungry.”

you open the door, seeing your mom begin to set the table with plates of food downstairs. you look back at megumi, who still looked sad after getting his kiss cut short.

sighing, you take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers together before pulling him down the stairs.

“come on, it’s time for lunch. you’ll get more later.”

you feel him perk up, giving your hand a squeeze as he follows close behind.

you steal a glance at your wrist, still wearing both the hair ties. good thing he hadn’t noticed you stuffing one into his bag this morning.

[alluringjae]

it’s a royal order - jjh

⤑ summary: one of your royal campaigns became a success, and your bodyguard jaehyun was there to see it all happen. it’s only fair to celebrate, right?

⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader

⤑ word count: 2k

⤑ genre: fluff, suggestive (dirty talk, jaehyun got a daddy kink, superiority complex!!), implied smut | bodyguard!jaehyun, princess!reader, slight enemies to lovers!au, modern royal!au (where south korea remains under monarchial power)

⤑ warnings: mentions of alcohol, drugs, family problems and therapy, explicit language

⤑ playlist: lows by pink sweat$ | céline by gallant | i put a spell on you by iza | nasty by ariana grande | dance for you by beyonce | body by sinead harnett

⤑ author’s note: this is definitely less emotional than all i do is wait! i got this idea from a show i really enjoyed before it got cancelled named the royals. specifically, i really liked the story of eleanor and jasper, which is the whole princess x bodyguard dynamic. the pining and tension, ugh! if you know this show or not, it doesn’t matter. anyways, thank you for the 30+ followers and 200 notes on aidiw! enjoy!

i need holy water because of this piece.

⤑ credits to jeongjaehyuns for the gif above uwu

⤑  leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

“On behalf of the royal family, I would like to extend my utmost support for the Anti-School Violence campaign for all students to have a safer and more meaningful learning environment.” You proudly announced to the board of officials alongside other influential individuals in Korean society.

Being the only princess in the current royal line may have its pressures, but holding a strong, direct impact for a brighter future for the people motivated you to take advantage of your platform for the better. As the image of pure innocence and revamped women empowerment, you aimed to accomplish all the things your mother wished she could before her untimely death alongside your personal aspirations.

Expressing genuine joy with the campaign, with a tinge of desire to annoy the old-fashioned and closeminded officials, your prying eyes were more enamored by a certain man in the back clapping by the ballroom doors. You can’t help but act flustered whenever he witnessed you in a state of success and satisfaction.

This man went by the name Jeong Jaehyun, your trusted bodyguard since you were in your early twenties. 3 years later, he still stuck by your side and helped you endure all the darkness as a royal.

Back then, you went through a rebellious phase that was ruining the image of your family. Clubbing almost every night, drugs, skipping school, you even managed to get all assigned bodyguards to quit! The media ate up all your tricks, turning them into scandals. That was the plan, of course. You desired your own freedom from all the royal obligations because you didn’t ask to be born into that lifestyle. To all of your peers who wished to be in your footsteps, you would’ve impulsively passed your title to them. There’s so much deception that lies behind the glitz and glam of it all.

This unexpected change in your former untainted attitude came to the point that your father, the king himself, stepped in and personally assigned one of his men to get you in check. He figured that appointing a guard nearest your age may lessen the tension and mend you back together.

In the start, you absolutely despised him. There was no way to fool him when you were up to no good. He easily found your alcohol and drug stash which he disposed of on the spot and stood by your bedroom door every night so you wouldn’t sneak out past curfew (which your father also strictly implemented).

One big turning point in your relationship was when he rushed you to the royal hospital when you drank a cocktail that went unnoticeably spiked. To think that this was a typical social gathering with other royals and officials, you’re a constant target to many. You didn’t wake up for a few days, and the entire time, Jaehyun willingly stood by your bedside and outside your hospital room.

Since that and more instances your father insisted you get involved in royal affairs, you softened up. As cliché as it was, the more time spent with him, the more you knew about him and vice versa. He was the one that got you to fully open up about your grief towards your late mother, encouraging you to seek help. Turns out you weren’t as different as you thought despite your differing ranks in society when he also had a void for a missing parent. In his case, it was his father, who ditched his family for his mistress. Silently, you helped each other recover from your traumas alongside therapy. From dreading his presence, you started treating him more casually. Your father’s tactic of assigning a bodyguard around your age admittedly worked.

Oh, how time flies.

This campaign was the last thing on your weekend agenda, so you had the entire late afternoon and evening to yourself. Bowing one last time to the audience, you stepped down from the platform and accepted the soft hand of your bodyguard, who quickly made his way to you despite the flashing cameras. It was something he got used to as it is part of the job.

Once he successfully ushered you out of the ballroom, his hand still held yours. Nothing new, except this event was quite public and you didn’t want anyone to get any wrong ideas. Strolling down one of the many hallways in the palace became a pastime for the both of you, where no one can catch you. It was a safe haven within the destructive life of the Park kingdom.

“You did phenomenal as I expected, your highness.” Jaehyun complimented, recalling your panic the night before as the stage fright hit strong when you were reciting your speech to him over and over again.

“We are in private, Jaehyun. Must you really use those formalities with me?” You taunted, bobbing your head sideways mockingly. With him could you felt like a normal young adult, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Jaehyun loved being frisky with you, catching you get irked up. And he was up to do it again.

“Hmm last time we strolled these halls, Yuta caught us making out after a successful meeting with the Prime Minister.”

You gasped at his statement, conscious of whoever may be in the vicinity. But before you could refute, your hand that was interlocked with his were mightily slammed against the white wall. You lost your breath for a moment, his warm body closely on yours. His free hand freely roamed up and down your covered waist. His lips were dangerously near your neck, where you’re sensitive. Your hips naturally grinded against him to release the pent-up tension.

“Something tells me you want to do it again, princess?” Now he’s just using your title as a pet name, but you couldn’t complain. It just hits differently when the situation was set up like this.

“I deserve it, don’t I? Got a lot of those hell-driven officials on my side for this round.” You raised both your brows cockily, licking your lips.

“Hell yeah, you do.” Finally, he rids of the tension and plants open kisses on your bare neck. Your throaty moans were uncontrollable, and you could care less.

“My princess,”

Kiss.

“So intelligent,”

Kiss.

“So benevolent,”

Kiss.

“So helpful,”

Kiss.

“But,” He changed his pace and direction, swollen lips near your ear.

“But?” You question naïvely. He scoffed, smirking at your antics of playing dumb.

“But a total slut for her bodyguard.” He dominantly planted his lips against yours, one of his veiny hands gripping on your waist and the other by the arch of your butt. He was hungry, needy even. Due to your shared schedules, it’s been a constant struggle to have proper alone time from the snooping eyes of Korean society. After all, it wasn’t in the norm for a princess to fall deep for her bodyguard. Nor were you sure you would be accepted by anyone. Yuta, the bodyguard of your oldest brother, the crowned prince Jinyoung, finding the both of you at that time was a total shock but didn’t care either.

All that mattered was that your feelings towards each other are real and strong. Accepted or not, you had each other.

All this lust put you in a daze, wanting much more than another smooch fest in the hallway. Tugging on his belt, he squeezed your butt tightly. You emitted a moan, which allowed his tongue access. No way could you keep your hands to yourself, touching his upper body and the flexing of his abdominal muscles from his button-up. You felt his now hard member poking through.

Analyzing your area, you were on the other side of the palace. Farther to your bedroom where numerous rendezvouses were made, one kink you’ve considered in the past amplified your mind. Considering this area was also the king’s side, and he was abroad for royal affairs, this was your chance.

“I have an idea, my love. You up for it?” You rose a brow at your lover, challenging him. Not one to overpower this man in bed, but always suggesting a way on how to spice it up.

“And what exactly does your feral brain want to do with me, princess?” His finger lifted your chin so you meet eye to eye. You can just see the fire still burning, and oh how you were ready to intensify it.

“The main ballroom, where my father and late mother’s throne rest, are a few doors away.” Your fingers signal him to lower his stance as his tall height was difficult to reach. With a sneaky smirk,

“Let me ride you in the king’s throne, my love.” Your lips brushed over his and sucked his bottom lip, tugging him by his belt. He groaned, squeezing your butt. “It’s a royal order.”  

“Nasty, your highness. Insanely nasty, you are.” His hands hoisted your waist, boosting you up in his arms. You gasped with profanities, ravenously cut off by his lips again. His nails digging deep in your bare thighs, your legs naturally linked themselves around his torso while your arms passionately intertwined his broad neck.

In between kisses, he carried you to the said main ballroom. One of your wildest imaginations, just a second away. This room remained to be the only place without any guards stationed technological advancements or updated interior designs to preserve its traditional beauty. Dated as far as the 19th century, only special events were held and the highest of the high were allowed inside. Spacious, surrounded by gold linings majestic paintings of angels from above with a huge crystal chandelier right above the center. Right ahead, the original thrones that your ancestors, grandparents, and parents sat on when they were throned in its pure glory.

Pushing your lover on the king’s throne, the gold sun-like rays plastered behind the headrest, he cockily leaned back and manspread his legs for comfort. He rubbed his hands before patting his thigh, waiting for your submission. But you weren’t going to give in just yet.

Not when you prepared a mini-show just for him underneath your designer silk dress.

Jaehyun’s solemn eyes marveled over your gorgeous figure as you stripped down one strap after the other. Due to its silk fabric, it effortlessly dropped down to your figure to reveal a new set of black lace lingerie from your previous trip to Paris. Ages ago, Jaehyun unhesitatingly ripped your favorite ones during his birthday, so you decided to get a mature version of it. A version where your bra lifted your breasts more and undies hiked up to your waist to elongate your legs. Only for the eyes of yourself and the man in front of you, establishing that you were a powerful woman who can be absolutely anyone she can be. Princess, a normal young adult, or his slut, it’s up to you how you see yourself.

Jaehyun mumbled all the profanities he could think of at the moment. Looking like a divine angel when the sun from outside shuns behind you, his slacks tightening so much more than a while ago.

“All this for me?” He ogled shamelessly, undoing the buttons of his dress shirt and untying his necktie. “What did I do to deserve such regal treatment?”

You sneered at his comment, stepping out your dress in your heels and stationing right in front of his luring lap. “You’ve always been there for me, thick and thin. I think you deserve a reward, don’t you think?”

Lowering yourself to straddle him, his breath hissed when your damp core collided with his crotch. Distracted and caught in your trap, “I don’t think you answered my question, my love.”

Rather than a verbal response, he roughly pulled you back in for a kiss. His hands scattered to explore from your back down to your waist. Your hands messily ran through his hair, tugging on some when your body got too sensitive to his wild touches. The thrilling sounds of the two of you drowning in your fiery romance bounced throughout the ballroom, not minding if anyone passed by the hallways outside. It was a private room after all, and whatever happens here, stays here.

Rolling on his crotch while his lips trailed down to your collarbones, the quick snap of your bra wires echoed. The tight lift lessened as Jaehyun’s fingers dropped the straps, unveiling your bare chest covered in his marks.

“Enough playing, princess. Let daddy have some real fun with you.”

[zuluc]

summary: the production of genshin impact is amazing! now let’s see what the actors are really like separate from their characters

style & genre: bulleted; modern!au, general fic

warnings: mentions of drinking

notes: another idea that’s popped into my head! this is pretty random but i’ll be updating more parts if you guys like it☺️ 

Aether and Lumine aren’t actually related in real life, they just look so much alike that they thought they were long lost siblings. Even off set they act like brother and sister because it feels natural after spending so much time together

Their phone contacts for each other are “my twin” and their greetings are always “i found you!”

Paimon uses a green suit to hide the lower half of her body but when she was getting used to “flying” around, she would forget that she didn’t actually fly and would step on other cast members’ toes: most of which were Aether’s

Bennett is the luckiest guy on set and actually pulled two five stars in a ten pull and hit 30 pulls to get another five star, however, he is really clumsy and trips over air every three seconds even if he watches where he walks

Diluc and Kaeya don’t hate each other but have a mutual rivalry over certain beverages. At one point they stopped talking to each other for a whole day because Diluc said the alcohol Kaeya brought him tasted cheap

Speaking of Diluc: he, Aether, and Albedo use the same brand of hair oil, only to realize when they sat next to each other and commented how familiar their “cologne” was

The drinking buddies (Kaeya, Beidou, Rosaria, Venti, Lisa, and Scaramouche) hang out on their days off sometimes

Klee really likes to be around Kaeya or Albedo because she thinks they’re good-looking. She gets excited when she’s in the same scene with either one of them so her personality is really genuine on screen

Albedo keeps chapstick in his pocket and uses it periodically between scenes. He zones out quite a lot because he gets bored easily. Yells at people to hydrate but in like a calming voice

Qiqi is already a pretty quiet kid but she likes to act and her role was perfect for her. You might see her sitting in the director’s chair when the cameras are rolling because they want her to see what she’s a part of. aw

Mona likes her hat and keeps it on most times but it always wacks people in the face when she turns. She doesn’t mind when it hits Scaramouche because he has his own hat. They have impromptu hat battles sometimes to which the costume designers get nervous about

Fischl can’t speak German for the life of her and she really likes Jojo’s and laughs in references with Razor. You might think she’s still in character off camera but no, that’s just her

Zhongli is possibly the richest person on the set but everyone else pays for all of his expenses just because. He does pay for everyone’s coffee especially when they have an early morning shoot

Scaramouche, Keqing, and Xiao have a group chat where they poke fun at other cast members showing up late and then proceeding to roast them behind their backs

They also like to change their lines in the middle of a shoot like Keqing ranting about the archons but instead she replaces them with other cast member’s names; Scaramouche replacing “when did i give you permission to issue your own orders” with “i’m hot aren’t i;” and Xiao repeatedly saying “can i eat something other than almond tofu please” or “i feel bad for this guy, he needs a hug” while looking straight into the camera

Xiao is actually a shy guy who is very kind to everyone around him so the cast was surprised when he started saying character lines because they never heard that tone in his voice before. He was mildly flustered afterwards from the compliments

Out of all the cast members, Aether forgets his lines the most even though he doesn’t say that much. When he forgets he autopilots to “windblade!”

The younger cast have a group chat to keep each other accountable for their early shooting times. But they all forget and end up late to the reading table

Signora actually did punch Venti in the stomach too hard on accident and they had to take a break as she apologized profusely to which Venti kept reassuring her that it was fine; got his gnosis back after the scene was over as symbolism for “i’m sorry i punched you in the gut really hard”

Barbara sings like an angel and the theme song for the series is written and sung by her

Childe stared at his prop bow for a good five minutes when he first got it and told the director that he didn’t prepare in using a bow but for “dual-wielding.” (plot twist: they never actually told him he was using a bow as a weapon but they knew he was a fast learner). All of the shots of him using it are genuine confusion as to how the thing works

One time with his last shot, he threw the bow on accident and hit Bennett

During the cast interviews, Venti likes to do them all with Zhongli or Xiao because they actually let him talk as much as he wants without overpowering his already loud voice

When he does it with Paimon, they tend to blow out the surrounding people’s eardrums so they were never paired again haha

Other interview pairings are Ningguang and Beidou and people like watching them together because of how soothing they sound and just the overall way they talk to each other

The opposite with Kaeya, Childe, and Lisa interviews. They keep flirting with the interviewers and viewers

“Hey girlies, watch the next episode” wInK

“Seize the day. Watch us again tomorrow night 8:30pm PST” wOnK

“What a cutie, would you like to see us again?” im blushing

Honestly, anyone could listen to Zhongli talk all day so he has longer interviews because even the people asking the questions want to keep him for longer

The whole cast is like one big family and whether they’re protagonists or not, they all have a close bond behind the scenes