#at first glance they seem fine but if you look at their feed long enough you start to see Holocaust denial and combined with

[badolmen]

Hey I saw some people sharing an infographic with this logo on it and, uh, I’m assuming you don’t know much about this group?

Stop Zionist Hate is a neo-nazi organization and platform. If you see the SZH logo do not spread their posts. They’re using your sympathy for Palestine to lead you into agreeing with their white supremacy. Don’t fall for it. Fuck Zionists. Fuck Nazis.

[riki-riks-chick]

jay smut :c

Life Saver ┃P.JS

Vamp!Jay x Turned!Reader

Jay turns y/n to keep her from dying, but was that the only reason?

cw: smut!, finger fucking, oral (fem rec), unprotected sex, vampire sex, blood mentions (biting/feeding), multiple orgasms, slight obsession, and i think that's it.

wdct: 1.7k

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Third Person POV~

You wake up in immense pain, vision blurry and ears ringing. you hear strong voices talking, and that's when you hear the words.  "You should have left her dead. why do you wanna be a hero so bad?" A strong voice rung through your ears as you opened your eyes, turning your head to face the two unfamiliar people, despite your aching head.

As soon as they heard the bed sheets rustle upon your movement, they both snapped their heads towards you. "You're awake! How do you feel!?" One of them rushed towards you, seating himself at the edge of the bed as you let your gaze fall on his platinum blonde head of hair. It framed his face perfectly. "I feel awful.." You spoke, your voice hoarse and raspy as you did. The other man in the room simply scoffed before taking his leave. 

 "Where am I?" You asked, glancing back at the kind man in front of you as he poured you a glass of water from the pitcher on the bedside table. "You're at my house.. You'll be staying here from now on.. Do you remember anything from when you were last awake?" He asked as you raised an inquisitive eyebrow, trying your hardest to remember your last conscious moment. 

 "Uhm.. I remember walking home after going out with my friends.. Those guys dragged me into that- wait.. what happened to me, and how did you find me?" You questioned as the man laughed nervously. "I saved your life..  It's a long story, really." He said as you shot up, immediately regretting the decision as your vision went blurry. "Steady.. The affects haven't worn off yet.. It's best to lay down for now.. Drink some water.."

You took a sip of water before laying back down. The second your head hit the cool silk pillow case, you felt somewhat at ease. "What's wrong with me? What affects are you talking about?" You asked as he sighed. "Promise not to freak out?.." He asked as you nodded. 

"I didn't want you to just die like that.. You looked so innocent, and... I may have turned you into vampire to keep you alive.." He explained as you stared at him, completely and utterly shocked. "I- I'm a vampire?" You stuttered out, and he nodded. "Yes, but it's hardly been long enough for the urges to kick in. Once you're okay to stand we can go through with your first feeding."

 "I'm a vampire!?" You repeated as he sighed. "Yes, but it's fine.. It's not much different from being human.. You're just immortal and have an undying thirst for human blood." He responded in a failed attempt to ease your mind, but you were still processing. "I'm a monster..."

 "Okay ouch.. We're not all monsters.. We live just like anyone else.. We didn't ask for this.." He said as you sighed. "Sorry..." You mumbled as he nodded. "It's whatever.. Get some rest and I'll check on you later.."

The second he left, the pulsing pain returned, making you wince. You couldn't even wrap your head around how much of a fucked up situation you were in. Eventually you fell back asleep, that way you wouldn't be distracted by the pain.

A few hours later, you were awaken by the same man as before. He was dressed differently this time, the dark clothing a stalking contrast against the white and gold face of the room.

He looked handsome, something you had hardly noticed before, and the sight of him seemed to ease your mind. "How are you feeling?.." He asked gently, his hand trailing your torso, it felt electrifying.

"I feel thirsty..." You explain simply, but he seems to understand perfectly. "I don't know if you're strong enough for your first feed, but you can feed off of me.." 

"What?..." You sound hesitant, but he brushes your hair out of your face, shushing you. "Don't worry... Every human has tasted blood before.. Just think of it as licking a bleeding cut.."

He then bites his wrist, his fangs stained crimson as he pulls you to sit up, letting you get your fill off of him. He runs his fingers through your hair in the process, easing you through it as you eventually pull away, your lips stained red, and your fangs peeking out curiously, the tips matching the same red color of your lips.

You seem to feel much better after your first feeding, but the glint in his eyes shows pure hunger. He leans in, capturing your lips with his own as he clears your lips of the crimson hue painting them. 

He pulls back, eyes glowing red as he smiles seductively. "I'm Jay..." He introduces before kissing you again, this time straddling you. His hands are planted on either side of you, hips meeting yours as you slide your hands up and over his shoulders, tugging him closer.

Something about him is simply impossible to resist, even the headache from earlier went away the second he got close. "Is this okay?.." He asks, his eyes almost begging you to say yes, and when you nod, he's sitting up, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. You help him, sliding it off of his toned shoulders as you undo his pants as well,  

He stares at you, in a daze almost as he watches you undo his pants, sliding them just barely past his hips before palming him through his boxers. He allows you to touch him for a bit before he grows too impatient, pushing your hand away before kicking off his pants completely. 

He then tugs at your shorts, tugging them off of you along with your silk panties, letting them litter the floor with the rest of his clothes. "You're really pretty... I have to say..." He whispers, running his finger over your hole as he spreads your folds. "So wet.. Good." He smirks, sliding a finger into you as a means of teasing. 

It's only one, and it's not that deep, but fuck it feels good. It's unbelievable how good he's making you feel off of one finger, and once he adds a second you can't even focus. 

"Holy fuck..." You grab his hand, moaning as he grasps your wrist, moving your hand. "Does it feel good?.." He asks, despite need of an answer. You nod, biting your lip as you tilt your head back against the pillows.

Jay pulls his fingers out of you, leaning down to kiss you again as he removes his boxers. "You know... I couldn't bring myself to leave you when I saw you like that.. I got this feeling, and it made me crave you.. Not in a vampiric way though."

You're hearing every word he says, but you can't seem to focus. He presses his tip against you, rubbing his cockhead along your glistening folds. "Can I? Please?.." He asks as you nods, moaning as he slowly pushes into you, filling you up completely.

He doesn't wait to move, his hips making slow efforts as he thrusts into you. His cock is deep inside you and you're seeing stars already.

You don't know if it has anything to do with the fact that your senses are now heightened, but you feel so much more sensitive than before.

"Jay..." You moan his name, feeling your stomach turn pleasurably with each thrust. His cockhead creates a bulge in your lower abdomen with each thrust, and he presses down on it, making everything feel ten times better. "Fuck.."

You feel like you've already experienced an orgasm, but you know for sure you haven't. Everything just seems so much better with him right now.

"If you feel like you need to cum, just let go... Trust me it won't be the last." He mutters lowly, thrusting harder as he slides his hand underneath your shirt, groping your breast. "Fuck Jay.." You grip his wrist, growing closer to your release with each burning touch. "I'm gonna cum.."

He smiles at your words, his hips seeming to increase the speed of their movements. "Cum for me, princess.. Let it all go."

His words seem to send you over the edge as a bout of pleasure blooms in the pit of your stomach. He's now leading you through the best orgasm, hips still moving fiercly against yours as you moan extremely loud.

He fucks you through your orgasm, wanting to push you over the edge even more. You feel incredible. Words getting mixed up, and just overall incoherent.

It's not long before he's coming undone too, thrusting hard, but slower as he cums inside you, filling you with his essence. "Stop clenching around me, fuck.."

He pulls out slowly, watching his white substance spill out of you as he runs his fingers through it, sucking them clean afterwards. "What a pretty little mess."

You're simply watching his every move, already feeling fucked out.

He lowers himself between your legs, licking your cunt from bottom to top as he sucks on your clit, lapping up the mess of cum between your legs.

You squirm beneath him, letting out little whines and whimpers as you tug on his hair. "Jay... Please.." The pleasure is intense and Jay knows it, he's obsessed with the way he's making you feel right now.

"You taste so good, princess..." He's breathing needily against your pussy, licking into it as he slides his fingers into your hole, moving them in and out at a fast pace while focusing his tongue on your clit.

You feel the all too familiar feeling build up inside you again as he continues to eat at your dripping cunt, his fingers fucking into you slightly faster with every passing minute.

You give no warning as you cum, but he's fully prepared for it, lapping up every fluid you let out for him.

When he finally pulls away, chin glistening with your liquids, he pulls his fingers out of you, sticking them into your mouth to make you taste yourself.

You moan around his fingers, gripping his wrist as he smirks down at you. After a short while, he pulls his hand away, leaning in to kiss you. His cock is pressed against you, fully erect and ready to fuck you again. "I hope you enjoy tonight because I want to be like this for the rest of eternity..."

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I hope this was good 🫣

[foreingersgod]

Can you write a CC x country reader that has a heavy accent, like Texas or smth and how it makes people react to it?

this is such a cute idea, i decided to put my own little twist on it so i hope you like it!

Texas Twang . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: you were born and raised on a texas farm, eventually moving away for college where you met caitlin. here’s a list of 5 times she’s fallen in love with you and your accent

A/N: #5 is a wee bit spicy (trying to feed ya’ll as per request) so please skip it if you’re uncomfortable with that!

also i got these sayings off of google cause i dont know any texas slang or how to convey the reader having an accent so sorry if they’re literally not real 😭

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1. when you first met

you were panicked, running around your small room trying to find your stupid fucking phone. you were already running 5 minutes behind, the clock on the wall told you, but you wouldn’t be able to find your first class of the morning regardless if you didn’t find your phone. checking under your heap of blankets, in the drawers of your desk, and even in your laundry basket, you found nothing.

then, after throwing every book out of your backpack as a last resort, you saw it laying below discarded orientation papers and sticky notes. with a sigh of relief, you snatched your phone and sprinted out of your building.

you were running at full speed, which was a little embarrassing considering every one else on campus was just walking normally. but you were extremely behind and would be so mad if you were late to your first class at this school. so you continued to weave through people. you dodged campaigners, sped through large groups on the lawns, probably knocking down a few people in the process.

your sprinting seemed to pay off when you noticed the building up ahead. you glanced at the time, seeing you still had a few minutes to make it if you really hurried. your legs ached as you continued to speed walk past bypassers.

then, without notice, you ran right into someone passing by. the force of your impact causing the both of you to fall to the ground in the middle of the quad. if you weren’t late already, you surely would have been now.

“shit” you heard the other person cuss under their breath. you looked up, still planted on the ground, to the person in front of you.

she was an insanely attractive woman. lean, about 6 foot, muscular, just your type you might add. she was pushing herself off of the concrete side walk, brushing the gravel from her pants. you followed suit, standing up then apologizing profusely for running into her.

“oh my hell, i’m so sorry” you exclaimed “i was goin’ way too fast, i apologize”

she gave you a crooked smile, shaking her head.

“no you’re ok, it happens, i should���ve been paying attention”

“no, really ‘s my bad”

her face twisted ever so slightly as you talked “you’re not from around here are you?” she blurted “sorry, that’s completely irrelevant, i just noticed the accent”

you laughed, this wasn’t the first time someone was confused by the heaviness of your accent “it’s fine, i don’t mind. yea, no i’m from a small town in texas, i moved up here for college recently”

“oh really? that’s cool” she smiled, extending her hand to you “well, i’m caitlin by the way”

“i’m YN” you returned her handshake “ ‘s so nice to meet you, but i’m runnin’ late for class”

“wait” she stopped you before you ran past her “do you think i could grab your number, maybe i could take you out sometime?”

you were all smiles “i’d like that, i’d like that very much”

2. your first argument

you don’t even know how it started. all you knew is that some girl was getting flirty at the bar and, according to your girlfriend, you were letting her seduce you. this was obviously not true. you and caitlin hadn’t been dating that long, but it has going really well and she’s incredibly important to you. important enough that you wouldn’t just be flirting with other women at the bar.

nonetheless, you were being dragged out of the bar. caitlin was oozing jealousy as you headed back to your place for the night.

“she was all over you, YN” caitlin sneered, following you into your apartment and slamming the door.

“oh my god, she wasn’t!” you rolled your eyes “good lord, arguing with you ‘s like tryna piss up a god damn rope”

“what?”

“what do you mean what?” your accent was thick, rolling off your tongue.

“what the hell does ‘pissing up a rope’ mean?” she looked at you confused, dropping the girl from the bar entirely.

you looked at her equally confused “you don’t say that here?”

“uh no, i think that’s a you thing” she said “your texas slang is distracting me and it’s making it very hard to be mad at you right now”

you chuckled, kissing her cheek “ ‘s just my southern charm, baby”

3. when you sing in the car

caitlin hated country music for the most part. but when you came along, you made it your duty to get her to enjoy it at least a little bit. she had never been subjected to small farm country music and to you, that was a sin.

so you’d play it for her on occasion, if she let you. and surprisingly it was pretty often. she would never tell you, but she only put up with country music just to hear you sing it. she was completely mesmerized by the way your accent mixed with the tune of the songs.

one day you were in the car together, on the way home from a get together with friends. it was a warm summer evening, sun on the brink of setting causing the sky to glow shades of orange and pink. cait was driving, per usual, you being her honorary passenger princess. she rolled down all the windows for you (even the sunroof) just how you liked it. you loved feeling the hot summer breeze blow through your hair with the radio turned all the way up.

“you follow me, and lead me on..” you hummed lightly, ‘all your’n by tyler childers sounding through the car radio.

she snuck glances at you as she drove down the empty street, watching how you let your arms hang out with window and let the wind fan over your face.

“so ill love you till my lungs give out” you closed your eyes, lost in the moment “i ain’t lying’”

caitlin so desperately wanted to pull over and listen to you sing all night long. your voice was like a gift from the gods. the way your accent slurred with each word had her melting in the drivers seat.

“i’m all your’n” you looked over to caitlin, smiling “ ‘n you’re all mine”

she smiled back, reaching across the console and resting her hand on your thigh.

she let you play your music the rest of the way home, just wanting to listen to you sing for a little bit longer.

4. when you met her family

you had waited months to meet caitlin’s family. no really, families were your thing. growing up in texas, it was common to be in or surrounded by a big family. and you knew big families more than anyone else, having 9 siblings, you being the middle child. it was a setting you thrived it and you tended to get along with people pretty well.

caitlin was hesitant to introduce you, she was freshly out of the closet and had never brought a girl home before. but this thanksgiving, she thought it was the perfect time to introduce you.

“so, YN” caitlin’s mother asked from across the table. “i’m sure you’re not used to such a small family, caitlin told me you come from quite the family tree?”

caitlin’s hand found your knee under the table, squeezing it lightly for comfort.

“oh yea,” you chuckled “my mama had a whole litter with 9 ‘a us. it was always crazy around the house, with 5 brothers n 3 sisters. and my daddy wasn’t around to help out off’n, but that’s a whole ‘nutter can a worms”

the way her family reacted to your voice made caitlin laugh under her breath, watching how they slowly dissected your sentence trying to make out the words from beneath the accent. she thought it was cute, lucky to have such a unique and special girl.

even the way you interacted with her younger cousins had her fawning over you, you were just so sweet and gentle.

“hiya, sweetie” you smiled as caitlin’s baby cousin accidentally fell into you “took a bit of a spill there didn’t ‘cha?”

you were the perfect picture of a warm welcome, full of beauty and grace and kindness. caitlin knew, from this moment, you’d be in her life forever.

SPICE AHEAD

5. during sex

she’d be lying if she said that damned accent didn’t get her riled up. because truly, it had her wet the second you started talking.

when she would have you pressed up against the wall, one leg wrapped around her torso as she kissed down your collarbone and onto your cleavage. the way you would moan “oh darlin’” oh so sweetly in her ear had her going crazy.

the rare instances in which you would take the lead in bed, watching as you crawled atop of her, stripping her bare. how you would hook your fingers under her underwear, tugging them down her long and toned legs. she was already bucking her hips into nothing. then you’d fasten your arms under her thighs, pulling them apart to place delicate kisses along the insides of her legs.

you’d tease her a bit more before dropping your head low, hot breath fanning against her glistening cunt. she bit her lip, trying to suppress moans of pleasure, and you had hardly touched her yet. you took your time with her, tongue dragging deliciously against her, savoring the taste.

“well you’re just sweeter than cherry pie, aren’t ‘cha baby” you’d praise, having her arching under your touch. with that, she couldn’t hold her moans any longer, completely coming undone as you continued to treasure every inch of her body.

you were going to be the death of her. 

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A/N: alright guys i tried to make it a little spicier, so feedback is much appreciated cause i honestly feel like it sucked lol

[cod-thoughts]

Day 5 of 31 days of COD

Word count: 2.3k

Relationships: 141 as family

Tags: Character study (kind of), ghosts relationship with food, talk of past starvation

Price had seen men who ate with discipline. He’d seen soldiers who treated food as fuel and nothing more, men who ate quickly so they could get back to the fight. But Ghost—Ghost was different. Keep reading under the cut or on AO3 Please don't read if it will harm you!

Price had seen men who ate with discipline. He’d seen soldiers who treated food as fuel and nothing more, men who ate quickly so they could get back to the fight. But Ghost—Ghost was different.

Price noticed it during their first mission together after Mexico, the way Ghost barely touched the rations, how he always seemed indifferent to food altogether. While the rest of the team would wolf down their meals after a hard day, Ghost would sit apart, mask half-raised just enough to eat mechanically, the food barely disappearing from his plate.

Price couldn’t blame him—Ghost had seen more than his fair share of suffering, been through things Price could only guess at. But the way Ghost treated food was unsettling. He ate as if it were a chore, something he had to endure but took no pleasure in. Sometimes, Price wondered if Ghost would’ve skipped eating altogether if it wouldn’t draw attention.

It wasn’t long before Price started to realise something: Ghost didn’t seem to eat until everyone else was done. Always the last one to touch his food, always picking at it, eyes distant and unreadable behind the mask.

“He’s like a machine,” Price muttered to himself one night as he watched Ghost push food around his plate again.

But he wasn’t a machine. He was a man—a man who never seemed to enjoy the simple act of feeding himself.

---

Soap was the first to notice how quiet Ghost was during meals. He wasn’t just quiet—he was silent. Even on the good days, when the team bantered and laughed, Ghost rarely said a word. He’d sit at the edge of the table, always near an exit, eating with deliberate, methodical movements. It was like he was somewhere else, far from the mess hall or the campfire.

At first, Soap assumed it was just Ghost being, well, Ghost. The man was silent in almost everything he did. But it started to feel different around mealtimes, like Ghost wasn’t just quiet because he didn’t want to talk—he was quiet because he didn’t want to be noticed.

One day, after a particularly brutal mission, the team gathered to eat around a fire, exhausted but grateful to be alive. Soap joked around, tossing comments at Gaz and Price, but when he glanced at Ghost, he saw the man wasn’t even looking at his plate. He was staring off into the distance, hands still, as if he’d forgotten the food was even there.

Soap, always the one to poke and prod, decided to press. “Ghost, mate, you gonna eat or stare at it until it gets cold?”

Ghost’s eyes flickered over, but his response was as indifferent as ever. “I’m fine.”

But Soap wasn’t buying it. He’d seen Ghost in the field, seen him push his body to the limit without a word of complaint. The man was relentless. But this—this was different. It wasn’t about discipline. It was about something deeper.

Soap let it go for the night, but the image stuck with him—Ghost sitting there, food untouched, eyes hollow behind the mask.

---

Gaz wasn’t one to interfere with anyone’s habits, but over time, he started to see patterns in Ghost’s behaviour that unsettled him. It wasn’t just that Ghost ate little and said even less—it was the way he seemed to treat food as a necessity he didn’t want to admit to. Like he was trying to deny something his body clearly needed.

Gaz thought back to a mission in the desert. They’d been on the move for days with minimal supplies, and by the time they’d reached an extraction point, everyone was running on fumes. The second they got back to base, the team devoured their rations with the ravenous hunger of men who’d been pushed to their limits.

But Ghost had waited. He sat there, watching the others eat, hands still, his face hidden beneath the mask. When he finally did start eating, it was slow—almost too slow, as if each bite had to be earned.

That was when Gaz started to wonder: Had Ghost been starved before?

He knew Ghost’s past was filled with trauma—stories whispered about what Simon Riley had survived. Torture, abuse, betrayal.

Gaz wasn’t naïve enough to ask, but something about the way Ghost treated food as a burden made it clear: hunger wasn’t a stranger to him. It was something he’d lived through, something that had left its mark.

One night, after another long mission, Gaz made a quiet observation. “You know, Ghost…you don’t have to earn your meals here.”

Ghost didn’t look up from his plate. He didn’t answer. But the silence felt different this time. He didn’t shrug off the comment, didn’t deflect it with his usual indifference. He just kept eating, slowly, methodically, as if Gaz’s words had struck something deeper than he’d ever admit.

---

Soap was the first to offer something off his own plate, casually sliding over a piece of steak one night when they were at base. It wasn’t much—a tiny, almost insignificant gesture—but the way Ghost looked at it made Soap pause. There was a flicker of hesitation, something between disbelief and discomfort.

“Not a fan of this part,” Soap explained, gesturing at his plate. “You can have it if you want. Need more protein anyway, right?”

Ghost’s eyes flicked from Soap to the offered food, and for a brief moment, he seemed to weigh his options. Finally, without a word, he accepted it, his gloved hand moving silently as he took the piece of steak.

Soap didn’t make a big deal out of it. He didn’t want to. But when Ghost finished his meal that night, Soap felt like something had shifted—something small, but important.

The next day, Gaz left his tomatoes untouched. “Never liked these,” he said casually, pushing them toward Ghost. Ghost’s gaze lingered on them for a moment before he reached out and claimed the offering, silently nodding his thanks. It wasn’t much, but it felt like a step toward something deeper—toward a shared understanding.

---

Price understood that Ghost had a complicated relationship with food. He saw the way the man held back, eating in calculated bites, as if every morsel had to be earned. Price didn’t want to push, but he also knew that sometimes, Ghost needed to be reminded that here, in this squad, things were different.

So, one evening after a particularly rough mission, Price suggested something different. “Let’s cook something proper tonight. We earned it.”

They had fresh supplies from a nearby base, and the team set up a makeshift grill near the campfire. It was a rare chance for something better than rations, and while the others jumped in, joking about who was the worst cook, Ghost stayed on the edge of the group, watching.

Price caught his eye. “C’mon, Simon. You’ve done more than enough to earn a real meal.”

Ghost hesitated, but something in Price’s tone—firm but not demanding—got through. He stepped closer, taking a spot near the grill. Price handed him a spatula without a word. It wasn’t about forcing him to cook; it was about making him a part of the process, showing him that this was something they could do together. Something they all earned.

When they finally sat down to eat, Ghost ate with them. He didn’t rush, but there was a difference—a quiet acceptance that for tonight, at least, he didn’t have to justify each bite.

---

After a few weeks of watching Ghost pick at his food or trade bites with the team, Soap came up with an idea. During one meal, he nudged Ghost with his elbow, keeping his tone light. “We should make a deal, yeah? You eat the stuff I don’t like, and I’ll eat the stuff you leave behind. Fair trade.”

Ghost’s brow furrowed behind the mask, clearly uncertain. Soap chuckled. “C’mon, it’ll be like the old days. You used to swap food in school, right?”

Ghost didn’t answer, but after a long pause, he nodded slightly. From then on, it became a kind of unspoken agreement. When Soap pushed something across the table—be it a slice of overripe fruit or some overly spiced vegetables—Ghost would accept it. And in return, Soap would take the smallest things Ghost left behind, almost imperceptibly lightening Ghost’s burden.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Enough to show Ghost that here, among his team, he didn’t have to carry everything alone.

---

Over time, the team began to notice a shift in Ghost’s behaviour. It was subtle, almost imperceptible at first. But once they started paying attention, it was clear: Ghost wasn’t avoiding food like he used to.

Price noticed that Ghost no longer waited until everyone was done before eating. He’d start his meal with the others, still quiet, still measured, but not as distant. Soap began to see him engaging a little more during mealtimes, even if it was just a word or two. Gaz observed that Ghost didn’t push his food around as much—he ate with purpose, not as if it were a necessary evil.

There were still days when Ghost seemed to withdraw, when the past resurfaced and eating became a task to endure. But there were more days now when Ghost joined them fully—silent but present, eating like the rest of the team.

One evening, when they were all sitting around the fire after a successful mission, Soap spoke up.

“You know, Ghost,” he said carefully, “you’ve been doing better with the grub lately.”

Ghost looked up, his mask casting shadows over his face. “What do you mean?”

Soap shrugged, keeping it casual. “You don’t seem to hate it as much anymore. Thought you might be warming up to the idea of eating with us.”

For a moment, there was only the crackle of the fire between them. Then Ghost, in his quiet way, responded. “Maybe I’m just learning there’s more to it than just staying alive.”

Price exchanged a look with Gaz. They understood. It wasn’t just about food—it was about control, survival, and trust. Ghost had spent years deprived of all three, and only now, after years with the team, was he learning to reclaim those things in small ways.

---

As the years passed, the team saw Ghost’s relationship with food continue to change. He still ate with discipline, still viewed food as fuel first and foremost. But there were moments now—rare, but growing more frequent—when Ghost seemed to take something else from it. Maybe it was the comfort of routine, the warmth of sharing a meal with his team, or the small joy of a hot meal after a cold mission.

Price noticed it first—Ghost reaching for seconds after a particularly gruelling op, something he never would’ve done in the early days. Soap spotted him lingering at the table after breakfast, nursing a cup of coffee instead of rushing off. And Gaz saw the subtle relaxation in Ghost’s posture when they ate together, as if he finally trusted that the food would always be there, and that he didn’t have to fight for every bite.

One evening, after a mission that left them all exhausted and bruised, the team gathered around a campfire to eat. The food was simple—rations, barely more than sustenance—but for the first time, Ghost didn’t sit apart. He sat with them, mask raised just enough to eat, his presence a quiet acceptance of something he had denied himself for so long.

“You alright there, Ghost?” Soap asked, breaking the silence as they all dug in.

Ghost didn’t look up, but there was something softer in his voice when he replied. “Yeah. I’m good.”

And in that moment, the team knew—they’d helped Ghost find something he never knew he needed. Not just food, but the warmth of a shared meal, the comfort of trust, and the peace of knowing that, here with them, he was safe.

---

As Ghost grew more comfortable, something subtle began to change in the way he approached meals. It wasn’t immediate, but there were moments now—small but significant—where Ghost seemed to relax, to take a breath and be present with the team.

One night, after a long mission, Soap handed him a plate and added a wink. “Figured you earned an extra helping tonight, mate.”

Ghost didn’t push it away. He didn’t say anything, but he sat down with the others, mask lifted just enough to eat. He still ate slowly, methodically, but there was a shift. When Soap handed him a piece of bread, Ghost accepted it without hesitation. When Price offered to share some of his coffee, Ghost took it, a silent nod of thanks exchanged.

The team noticed, but they didn’t say a word. They didn’t need to.

---

As Ghost began to accept more from his team, he also found small ways to show the others he understood. He’d never admit it out loud, but when someone left a piece of bread uneaten or picked at their food, Ghost would quietly take it without comment, ensuring nothing went to waste. Ghost knew better than anyone how crucial that was.

One night, when Price left a few scraps on his plate, Ghost picked them up without a word and finished them. Price raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

“Still hungry?” Gaz asked with a teasing grin.

Ghost didn’t respond, but Price gave a small smile. He knew what Ghost was doing—it was his way of contributing, of making sure they all understood. And even if Ghost would never admit it, Price appreciated it. It was Ghost’s way of reciprocating, meeting them in the middle. Even though he would never admit to it, they knew, and that was enough.

[solxamber]

Solicitous — Geto Suguru x reader

Geto Suguru always thought that staying by your side had been enough. But when he thinks that you might choose to go to his best friend over him, he can't help the bitter feelings that arise, till he's met with an unexpected truth: your heart had always been his.

The rain patters lightly against the window, a soft rhythm that slightly soothes his pounding head. His head aches, his body weak and feverish, but it’s not just the flu that’s weighing him down. It’s the thought of you—choosing to take care of Satoru, like he’s sure you will. After all, Satoru is strong, funny, and annoyingly good-looking. Why wouldn’t you choose him?

Suguru sighs, pulling his blanket up around his shoulders as he glances toward the door. He tries not to let the bitterness creep in, but it does, swirling in the pit of his stomach. You’ve always seemed close with Satoru, laughing at his ridiculous antics, smiling when he teases you.

Suguru thinks maybe he’s been reading too much into the times you’ve stayed by his side, fussing over him with that warm, caring gaze. Of course, you'd choose Satoru.

Just as his thoughts spiral deeper into insecurity, a soft knock echoes through the room. His heart stutters—he’s not ready for this. He isn’t ready to see you walk through that door with all your affection meant for someone else.

“Suguru?” your voice calls softly as you step inside, carrying a tray with a bowl of steaming soup. His eyes widen in surprise, but he quickly composes himself, mustering a weak smile.

“You’re here?” he asks, voice raspy and disbelieving. He thought you’d be with Satoru.

You set the tray down on the bedside table, sitting beside him and running your fingers through the hair that had fallen into his face. “Of course I’m here. I came to take care of you.”

He opens his mouth, then closes it again, unsure what to say. The knot in his chest tightens. “But… Satoru…”

“Satoru will be fine without me there” you say, waving off the concern as you spoon a bit of soup and hold it up to his lips. “I’m here for you, Suguru.”

He hesitates for a moment, his dark eyes searching your face for any sign that you’re lying, that you’d rather be anywhere else. But all he sees is genuine concern, affection even, and it while it makes his heart ache, a small hope also blooms with it.

He lets you feed him, savoring the warmth of the soup, though it does little to calm the storm brewing inside him. As you fuss over him, wiping his forehead with a cool cloth, tucking the blanket around his body, he feels the familiar crack in his resolve. He can’t keep pretending everything is okay.

“You don’t have to do all this,” he says quietly, eyes averting from yours. “You should’ve just gone to Satoru. I know you…" his voice cracks "like him."

You freeze, slowly retracting your hand from his forehead, looking at him in shock. “What?”

Suguru clenches his fists beneath the blanket, the words spilling out before he can stop them. “I see the way you look at him. He’s better than me, stronger. Of course, you’d choose him over me.”

Your brows furrow in confusion, and before you can respond, he continues, his voice trembling, filled with emotion he’s tried so hard to bury. “It hurts. Watching you with him, thinking you’d rather be with him than with me. I know I shouldn’t be jealous, he's my best friend but I can’t help it. I just—” He pauses, his breath hitching as a tear slips down his cheeks, the first real crack in the mask he’s been wearing for so long. “I can’t lose you to him.”

“Suguru…” you whisper, your heart breaking at the sight of him, so vulnerable, so open in his pain.

You cup his cheek, turning his face toward you so that he’s forced to meet your eyes. He blinks, the tears making his vision blurry, but he can still see the softness in your gaze, the tenderness that’s meant for him.

“I don’t like Satoru,” you say firmly, your voice steady. “I’ve never liked him like that. It’s always been you, Suguru. You’re the one I care about. You’re the one I love.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, as if your words don’t quite register. But then the weight of them sinks in, and his breath catches, more tears spilling over as he breaks down completely.

“You… you love me?” he chokes out, his voice barely above a whisper, like he’s afraid saying it too loudly might shatter the moment.

“I love you,” you repeat, your voice gentle and dripping with affection as you wipe away his tears, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

A sob escapes him, and he pulls you into his arms, clutching you tightly against him as though he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. His body shakes with the force of his emotions, and for the first time in a long time, Suguru lets himself cry without holding back, without pretending he’s okay.

You don’t let go. You hold him through it, your fingers gently threading through his hair, your lips pressing soft kisses to his temple, his cheek, his jaw, until his sobs begin to quiet.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. “I’ve been so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, maybe a little dense, but not stupid” you murmur, brushing his hair away from his face. “You’ve been hurting, and you didn’t want anyone to see it.”

He sniffs, pulling back just enough to look at you, his eyes still red and puffy from crying. “You still love me, even after all that?”

You smile softly, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “Of course I do, Suguru. I always will.”

Relief floods his system, and for the first time in what feels like forever, he allows himself to smile—a real, genuine smile that reaches his eyes. He leans in, pressing his forehead to yours, and for a moment, there’s nothing but the warmth of your breath mingling with his, the closeness of your bodies, and the quiet understanding that your eyes have always been on him.

“I love you,” he whispers, his lips brushing against yours.

And then you’re kissing him, slow and gentle, a promise of everything that’s to come, and in that moment, Suguru knows without a doubt that he doesn’t need to pretend anymore. He has you, and that’s enough.

Masterlist

he's so special to me :(( god i miss him sm

[orsinium-scholar]

Spring came slowly, this close to the Skyrim border. It crept across the Colovian foothills like a lazy child slinking out of bed. Snow lay thickly over the forest as the pair of orcs passed through, the only tell of the turning season the gentle patter of melting snow from the trees and a green carpet of snowdrops beginning to push through the snow.

In the arms of the tallest orc, a small bundle wriggled with a quiet squeak of annoyance as a drop of snowmelt dropped down onto it.

Margesh the hunts-wife sighed internally as she noted their slow pace. Chief Nazbarag could set a blistering pace through the forest even under heavy armour, yet now, clad in lightweight furred leather, he walked through the woods like he had a millstone around his neck.

“Does he seem peaky to you?” Chief Nazbarag paused, glancing down at the altmer babe in his arms. “I don’t know, he seems pale. A trip like this might be too much for-”

“Of course he’s pale, dear. He’s an elf. He was fine when we left, Kizbeh gave him a check over when she was feeding him.”

“...Right, right…” He set off again, still slow and hesitant.

Honestly, she didn’t know what she expected, really. As tough and strong and ruthless as her husband could be, she’d been married to him long enough to know that under the armour and scar tissue and fearsome beard was a complete soft touch for anything small and helpless. No matter how much he insisted otherwise, no matter how fearsomely he protested, and argued, and pretended otherwise, she knew him.

He was always the first to offer to take a small child off his spouse's hands. Always made excuses to be elsewhere when the livestock were slaughtered.

And who could forget the fuss and grousing he’d made when his youngest daughter had brought a kitten home, who’d been barely a week in the stronghold before he was falling asleep in front of the hearth with the small scrap of fur asleep on his chest?

She’d known this was going to go badly the minute she’d brought the lost little babe home, wailing with cold and hunger, and he’d swept him up in his huge arms before he’d even taken a closer look at him. After an entire winter of “Just till the spring-” this and “Don’t get attached-” that, Margesh knew that if she didn’t step in now, there would just be another mouth to feed.

“Do you think it’s too early in the year? The pass is likely only just clear, it’s quite cold, and he’s only small…”

“He’s survived colder, dear. You said, once the pass was clear, the boy was going down to Chorrol.”

“Yeah, I did, didn’t I…”

Uh-oh. His eyes were dangerously misty.

“Look, it’s for the best, dear. It’s a tough life for an orc, and he’s just a little elf pup, it’s better if he goes down to the city. They’ll find him a good home, or track down some family, and he’ll be much better off.”

“I suppose…”

“Right then. We should be on the cart track soon, then it’s a straight shot to Chorrol-” She realized suddenly that Chief Nazbarag was no longer trudging beside her.

He had stopped completely, staring at nothing as the babe wriggled quietly in his arms.

“Margesh-?”

Oh gods…

“What?”

“When you found his mother…you said they were elf arrows in her back, right?”

“Yeah, that stuff happens all the time, I hear. Those black and gold bastards decide some elf isn’t, I dunno…elf enough, and they get cut down. Seems like a waste to me…why?”

For a moment he just stared through her, face haunted as he held the child close. Then his face hardened and he spun on his heel, facing back towards where they had come from, setting off with a powerful stride.

“Nazbarag! What are you doing?”

“Taking him home. If I hand him back and those high elf bastards hear about it, they’ll just kill the boy! I’m not having that on my conscience!”

Oh, crap.

Margesh set off after him at a jog.

“Don’t be a fool! He won’t survive the stronghold!”

“We’ll give him a try. It’s more than the thalmor bastards would give him. I didn’t crack elf skulls in the legion for years just to hand him over to monsters!”

And Margesh…gave up.

“Mauloch’s teeth…fine.”

Dammit, I owe Kisbeh ten drakes. She told me she wasn’t even going to bother to take the cradle down when we left.

Shaking her head, she set off after her husband.

“Fine. He can stay…”

Along the path, as the pair set off towards home, the first snowdrop flowers began to bloom.

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — WOLFWOOD x FEM READER

You thought you'd be the one taking care of the stray you picked up off the streets, not the other way around.

wc — 3.6k

tags — fluff, dog boy/werewolf/shapeshifter au I guess, whatever you want to call it, “you become responsible forever for what you have tamed” but it goes both ways, animal abuse mention (non graphic and not from reader), shoujo manga vibes, title from runaway by Aurora

There’s a mangy old stray on your block. You’ve seen the kids chase him off with sticks too many times not to want to do something about it, no matter how your mother used to scold you for your bleeding heart. 

“It’ll get you hurt someday,” echoes now in your ears as the cashier rings up your dog food, both wet and dry. You’re not sure which he’d - it seems like a he - would prefer.

$12.97 is your total. Not a bad price to pay for a life. 

Only a gentle kind of revolt, more teasing than genuinely angry, remains in your mind as the first drops of rain land on your face. It was a light mist, barely enough to dampen the sweet smelling air. The wet haze pulled blurry rainbows across the clear summer sky, enough to put a hop in your step as you hurried back to your apartment. 

There are no children today, and the neighborhood is quiet. A half dug hole by the adjacent apartment’s peonies tells you that your target is either nearby or at least recently in town. You unpack your bag, setting out a trap in the form of a can of wet food. 

Something skulks in the periphery of your vision. Trying not to startle him, you peek at the shadow out of the corner of your eye. You didn’t know dogs grew to be this big. 

When you really look at him, your stray seems more wolf than dog. He’d be nearly as large as as a human if he stood up on his back paws. Hiding beneath the trees where he thinks you can’t see him, he’s tense and untrusting. 

It’s strange for you to think of yourself as capable of making anyone nervous, much less someone as big as he is. You take a step back.

He edges forward, then flees into the shadows again. He’s hesitant. His paws skitter across the grass, beating a fast and unsteady tempo that reveals how nervous he is. It’s obvious that he won’t come out to eat as long as you’re here. That’s fine.

Trust can be earned. 

From your apartment’s windows, you watch him gulp down the food. He’s so clearly famished that he doesn’t even pause to breathe between bites, leaving you almost afraid that he’ll choke. When he’s finished, he lies down by his bowl, his eyes glittering.

He’s not asleep - he’s too wary a creature for that, but it’s relieving to see him relaxed and sated. He dozes like that for a minute or two before he lifts himself back up on weary paws to trot back into the woods. 

You’ve tried to make it a routine to feed him after work, stopping by the pet store to pick up different flavors you think he’d like to try. Neon stickers pop out at you from various tags on the shelves, promising to boost muscle growth or improve bone strength.

In the end, you get them all. When all you do is work, you don’t worry about blowing your money on things like this. You have nothing else to spend it on - might as well spoil him. It’s nice to be able to take care of someone else.

It might be all in your head, but you think he’s starting to warm up to you. He still waits until you’re gone to eat, but it’s easier to keep tabs on him now. You don’t think it’s an accident.

Sneaking a glance out of the corner of your eye, you can spot the telltale signs that he was waiting. Sometimes you even find him waiting for your car to pull in. 

Today, you find him at the end of your driveway, his tail thumping against the pavement. He’s in a good mood, it seems. When you park, he even gives a short howl.

He still retreats when you climb out of the driver’s side, only inching forward when you rustle your plastic bag of groceries at him. You crack the lid and set it down slightly in front of you to wait it out. 

You’ve been trying to get him used to your presence so you can take him to the vet. It’s a slow process - some days he’s more amenable to your presence than others. 

It takes a minute or two for him to consider if it’s worth it, if you’ll hurt him. Eventually, he slinks forward, his body low to the ground. 

You smile at him encouragingly as you wait, crouched down to be on the same level as him. He’s a big dog, probably almost the same height as you sitting down. He pauses in front of the food and sniffs cautiously. Then, he passes it. 

Your heart drops. Maybe he didn’t like it. Had you picked wrong? He’s eaten everything you gave him before - you didn’t think he was picky. 

He comes right up to you, his hot breath gusting over your hand. Suddenly you realize that this is a predator. He might be feral or have rabies. After everything, you realize you don’t really know him.

Animals aren’t like humans. You’ve assigned a wild beast your own moral complications and assumptions. Perhaps it’s hungry enough to want to eat you. 

He’s close enough that you can feel the warm weight of his body against your shins. Something fuzzy bumps into your hand insistently until you lift it. You realize that he’s asking to be pet and with trembling fingers, you do. 

Your fingers stroke over his head and ears, growing surer with the way he’s pushing back against you. It tickles just a little, enough to make you giggle until he shoves his snout right into your palm. His nose is cold and wet. 

“Go on,” you encourage, trying to nudge him towards the bowl. No matter how nice his fur feels, there’s something heartbreaking about watching him choose love over food. 

“You need to eat,” you scold. He sneezes in a way that makes him shake all over. If he wasn’t a dog, you’d think he was smiling at you. He only takes a mouthful when you reach out to resume petting him. He seems to like it when you scratch right behind his ears. 

You almost feel like you’ve formed a bond until he stops right at the boundary of your home and refuses to walk any further. You had thought you were getting along so well, too. 

“Come on,” you coax. “Here, boy. There’s nothing to be scared of.” 

He skitters back anyways, circling your property with a low, mournful howl before he trots back towards the perimeter. 

Progress is progress, you try to remind yourself, however disappointed you are. 

Sometimes, it feels like you’re not making any at all. There are days where you can’t even watch him eat, not knowing if he’s alright until the next time you find an empty bowl. Your fears are only alleviated by the moments where he lets you pet him or waits for you, a reminder that you are earning his trust. 

It may be a slow process, but he is becoming more comfortable with you, little by little.

Now it worries you when you can’t find him sitting in his usual spot, wary but excited. He doesn’t come even when you peel back the lid of the can noisily, the metal crumpling easily in your hand. You can’t help your anxieties from multiplying, though logically you know that he’s probably just off doing whatever dogs do in their free time.

You’re already halfway up the walkway to your house when you turn back. You can’t go inside without knowing he’s safe. A quick lap around the neighborhood reveals nothing. You’re checking behind bushes and cars when you hear the first faint whimper. 

Frantically, you push the leaves aside until you find him huddling in the center of a rose bush. He’s curled up on himself, as small as he could possibly be. His tail is tucked under his nose. 

Your hands are pricked with thousands of little needles as you keep digging for him. You can’t imagine how much worse it would be for him. This could only have been his last resort. Something worse had chased him here. 

He wags his tail when he sees you, barely able to lift his head. Seeing him struggle, you can’t help yourself. You push the branches aside to help him drag himself out, his body battered. Those kids again. 

“Come on, baby,” you coo, stroking his matted fur as you pick him up in your arms. He’s not as heavy as he should be, starved as he is. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll take care of you.” 

It was settled before you could decide it for yourself. He’s your responsibility now. There was never a choice in it. 

Dr. Rem’s assistant comes out to fetch you less than five minutes into the check up. “I think you should stay,” he says, his tone just cool enough to sound a touch annoyed. 

Your overgrown puppy won’t submit to her ministrations unless you’re in the room with him, stroking his ears and promising that everything will be alright. He must’ve been a pet at some point, to know what needles are and have such a reaction to them. To know that despite the initial pinch, it’s okay as long as you’re being pet. 

When it’s finally over, both of you are exhausted, but Dr. Rem is as professional as ever as she walks you through the care routine for his treatments. “Honestly,” she says, shaking her head. “I don’t understand how some people can be so cruel.” 

You don’t either, but it doesn’t matter. He’s yours now, and you’ll never let anything touch him again. 

“Does he have a name?” Dr. Rem’s incredibly blonde assistant asks as he’s filling out your release forms. 

“I’ve just been calling him dog,” you admit bashfully. 

He doesn’t need to speak. His expression says it all. Unbelievable.

You take a look at the creature you’ve decided to bring home. He does look more like a wolf than a dog. You’ve always thought so. “Wolfwood?”

“What a weird - ahem, interesting - name for a dog,” Nai, from his name tag, says. 

By your feet, Wolfwood wags his tail in agreement. 

“Wolfie?”

His tail wags harder. He pauses. It wags again. He turns around and nips at it, like he’s trying to hide the fact that he might like the nickname.

When you try to carry him from the car into your home, he clambers stiffly to his feet like an old man. You have to hide your laugh behind a couch. For some reason, he seems more human than animal. You’ve caught him noticing things no normal dog would, and you’re sure his pride would be injured. 

The sound his nails clicking across the floor is strangely comforting, like ASMR. You’ve heard that dogs are naturally helpful to lower cortisol and reduce stress, but you’ve never thought you’d experience those effects. You lean down to stroke a hand over his furry coat, carefully avoiding the spots where he’s still hurt. 

When it’s bedtime, you’ve resolved to give him the comfort of your bed and take the couch, but he’s not having any of that. His jaw snaps around the hem of your shirt, teeth digging into the fabric to prevent you from leaving. Immediately, you stop moving, afraid to hurt him worse. 

“Calm down,” you say gently. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He barks in discontent. He really does seem human, as if he understood you. 

Out of options, you resign yourself to curling up on the bed next to him, hoping you won’t accidentally roll over him in your sleep. Maybe you should invest in one of those bed dividers they use for small children. It’s the last thought in your head before you drift off. 

A deep, reverberating sound wakes you up. You roll over with the pillow shoved on top of your head to try to get some peace, but it continues. Fed up, you finally rise out of your comfortable sheets, ready to give whichever neighbor that’s decided sunrise was a great time to mow their lawn a piece of your mind. 

Instead, you’re greeted with a strange man in your bed. Your scream is cut short by his hand clapping over your mouth as soon as you start. 

“Oops.” He says. “My bad.” 

Your eyes grow wider in terror. 

“Hey, hey,” he says soothingly, like that’s going to help when there’s a random man in your bed. “None of that. I’m a friend.” 

You scream louder. In a spark of inspiration, you try to bite him. He winces. That’s when you start noticing the ears and the tail. The faint resemblances to someone else you know. The bandages wrapped around his torso. 

“That’s right,” he says, noticing you look. “Recognize me now? Would this help?” 

The tail flicks back and forth in a familiar motion. Someone else used to do that to show his happiness. 

“Wolfie?”

“That’s a stupid name,” he laughs. 

“I think I’m going to pass out.” 

“Don’t do that,” he says, but it’s too late. You’re going back to bed. 

You’re not sure why you’re not more surprised that the stray you picked up is actually a human, but after your initial reaction, you find yourself remarkably open to the idea. Part of you feels privately that you’ve always expected Wolfie to be special. He seemed so smart. 

You’re in too deep to kick him out now, human or not, but that also might be an excuse. Having him around is nice, you have to admit. Whether he’s a human or a dog, having someone to come home to has changed your life.

You hadn’t realized how lonely you were until you came home to Wolfwood preparing dinner, the apron you bought for him wrapped around his waist. It reads ‘kiss the chef’ in bright pink letters. 

Although you’re the one who took him in, you feel like you’re the one being taken care of. 

It’s not just you. Even your coworkers have commented on the way you rush home now instead of staying up until the very last minute. You can’t keep up with your bad habits anymore. There’s someone waiting for you now.

When you open the door, the delicious fragrance of something savory drifts to your nose, spiced and warm. “I’m home,” you call. 

There’s no need. He’s already waiting at the door. It’s a comical sight. He tries to make it casual, leaning against the wall with an oh-so-nonchalant air, but he’s there every single time you walk through the entrance without fail. 

It’s too easy to get used to his presence.  

Having someone to come home to makes you quicker to turn down overtime requests and more hesitant to take on additional duties. You thought this would hurt your work report, and you were willing to take the hit. Some things are worth it. 

Instead, your productivity spikes. Even your manager notices, doling out rare and surprised praise on one of your last projects. The change in you is palpable.

“Did you get a boyfriend?” Meryl asks. “You seem happier lately.” 

Everyone notices the way you seem brighter, more easygoing. You’ve started bringing homemade lunch boxes instead of eating out. Your good mood has translated into a better work product than any amount of indifferent hours you put in before. 

It’s still a surprise when you receive your promotion at the end of the quarter. Something you’ve been working towards for months drops right in your lap. Lately, it feels like everything has been falling into place. 

Good things arrive on the heels of even better things, all because you’ve felt more personally fulfilled than you have in years. You though taking Wolfwood in would slow you down, but it’s done the opposite.

You have more time now that you have someone looking after you. It also motivates you to have someone of your own to care for.

When you present the news to him, you can’t stop yourself from crying out of happiness, though it’s embarrassing. Wolfwood licks at the small tears rolling down your cheeks. 

“What are you doing?” You laugh, trying to push his face away with no real effort behind it. 

“Kisses,” he replies. “For doing a good job.” 

Not like that, you try to remind yourself. He doesn’t mean it like that.

“Why is your heart beating faster?” 

Stupid dog senses. 

There are other ways in which his dog nature comes in handy. He’s more sensitive to nature than you are. You’ve come to rely on him instead of the forecast as he sends you off every morning, his nose scenting the ozone and petrichor in the air. 

“Don’t forget to take an umbrella!” 

“I’m already running late, bye!” 

You should’ve listened. Now you’re forced to trudge through the damp muck, soaked to the bone. Your sneeze is so strong it rattles through your bones, making you feel achey and weak as you sniffle through the last leg of your journey. By the time you finally reach the front door, you feel as pathetic as you must look, like a half drowned rat. 

Wolfwood is waiting for you again, but you barely register it. You nearly stumble over a cabinet leg as you try to make your way to the couch through the dizziness, collapsing on it. Wolfwood pads over to you, making a low grumbling noise of concern.

“Shh,” you murmur as you feel his cold nose shove into your palm. “Not right now, Wolfie. I’m tired.” 

He puts his head across your thigh and whines discontentedly. Your breathing is coming a little hard. Still, you try to reassure him. “I’m okay. Just had a long day.” 

There’s human hands against your forehead now, nice and cool. You turn your head so you can nuzzle into it, the gentle pressure relieving your headache just a little. 

Someone’s holding you now, arms around your back and sides. “Come on, sweetheart, you gotta sit up. Eat something.” 

Almost like a dog yourself, you whine and pout, turning your face away. The idea of food is turning your stomach right now. Everything seems too rich for your weak stomach. 

“This is why I told you to take that umbrella this morning.” Wolfwood’s voice is stern, but his hands are kind as he props you up. 

“One sip, alright? For me.” 

Weakly, you part your lips so he can slide the spoon between your teeth. It’s a mild broth, barely any flavor to it, but it’s the only thing you can bear at the moment. The hot soup feels incredible, warming you from the inside out. 

“There we go,” he says. “Good job, sweetheart.”

With his help, you finish the whole bowl. He wraps the blanket tighter around you before he takes the dirty dishes. Even when he leaves your side, you can hear him bustling around the room, so you’re not worried. This is nice. Even feverish, you feel pleasant. 

When Wolfwood returns to the couch, his dog ears are peeking out of his hair. He kneels by you to check your temperature. Spotting your chance, you scratch at the base of his ears, listening for the satisfying thump of his tail hitting his thigh when you get the spot he really likes.

“What a good boy,” you coo, forgetting yourself. 

He laughs at you, watching you fluster. “Did you forget I’m not a real dog?” 

Your face is hot, but not from the fever. 

A few months into the strange miracle of having someone else to care for, and someone to care for you, Wolfwood asks you for an unusual favor. 

“Can you get me a collar?” 

Your gaze sweeps over him, considering. “I don’t know how I’d feel about that now that I know you’re a man.” 

“Honest, aren’t you?” When he smiles, you can see his fangs. It’s strangely charming, the wink of white bone in the corner of his mouth. 

“Why do you even want one?”

“I dunno, instinct? It just feels nice.” He braces his hand against his throat, testing the way it’d feel. “Yeah. It feels like something’s missing.” 

“That’s strange. I thought you’d prefer to be free.” 

He stretches out, lifting his arms. You can see the muscle lining his back beneath his thin, nearly transparent white tee. “Freedom is relative. Everyone is tied to something, you know. No use in pretending otherwise.” 

You tap his nose playfully. With a mischievous look in his eyes, he lunges forward and snaps his teeth over your finger. 

“You can be wise for a puppy,” you say teasingly. 

“Like I keep telling you, I’m a man,” he says, roughly pulling you towards him so he can punish you by messing with your hair. You shriek in protest, trying to push him off, but the request sticks inside your head.

On the weekend, you take a few leashes from the right section and sneak into a quieter corridor in the pet store. Even though you’ve agreed to this for Wolfwood’s sake, it’s still embarrassing. You have your pride, and it’d be hard to explain to anyone what your actual situation is. 

Perhaps understanding your plight, Wolfwood doesn’t mess with you as he usually does. Or maybe he’s just pliant at the thought of getting what he wants as you clip the leather around his neck. 

It looks good on him, you have to admit. He looks almost like a punk rock star, transforming it from dog collar to statement necklace. 

You flick the tag on his neck, watching the silver circle twinkle with your name and number. It’s meant for him to wear when he chooses to go on walks himself as a dog. “Now it’ll be okay even if you do get lost,” you tell him, satisfied.

“I’d be fine either way,” he says. “I know the way home.” 

For some reason, that makes you feel as owned as he looks, even though you’re not the one with a collar around your neck.

[darling-heffron]

Hello everyone! Lovely to see you all, hope the first month of the year is treating you well. I already exhausted lmao, so excited for the rest of the year. Also I'm back on track posting on a Saturday, no need for applause, I know I'm pretty great! Hope you all enjoy the next instalment of Momento Mori!!

Esra✨

Taglist: @malarkgirlypop , @mellow-human , @next-autopsy if anyone else wants to be added, please let us know!!

Chapter Twelve: The More the Merrier

Sam’s POV: 

Somehow the lone party of one was now eight. Sam was fine travelling all by herself but the trouble seemed to have started once the friendly, all loving, all inclusive Mars arrived. 

The group Mars first introduced her to seemed to be fine, she was more than capable of handling them. The men were mild mannered country boys who were respectful of Sam’s space and lack of communication skills. 

She would’ve gone as far to say she had befriended the younger man, Shifty. Sam never felt uncomfortable around him and his knowledge of hunting and wildlife fascinated her. 

However the newest group of Perco, Luz and Martin were a completely different story. 

Luz and Mars were scarily alike. They had the same sense of humour, the same loud demeanour and the same endless energy. 

And when Perco, Mars, and Luz were together, it was nightmare fuel, they were loud, rambunctious, idiots together. Seemingly forgetting the world they now resided in. 

Martin seemed to be more reserved but when Perco and Luz wound him up enough he would also join in on the fun. 

It wasn’t all bad though, seeing them get along so well while the world was falling apart seemed to lift the group's spirits. And having eight people in the group was actually pretty beneficial, although Sam would never admit that. 

Eight pairs of eyes and eight pairs of hands went a long way when scouting, looting and looking for danger. 

“Luz!” The younger girl squealed when George ran up behind her and poked her in her sides. The man laughed loudly at the blonde girl’s reaction. 

“They seemed to be enjoying themselves.” Shifty commented from beside Sam, who rolled her eyes. They had been going on like this ever since they had met two days ago. 

“Guys!” The older woman scolded the pair as they gave sheepish ‘sorry’s’ before elbowing each other in blame. 

“Ah, go easy on them. They’re just having fun.” Bull clapped his large hand over Sam’s shoulder. But still she wasn’t impressed. 

“Yeah, so much fun. And then someone falls over and we’re all doomed.” Bull chuckled at the blonde woman’s stubborn tone. Denver liked the girl, she was strong and dependable, she also looked after the younger girl with great care, even though she pretended she didn’t. 

That seemed to be her MO, harsh and cold on the outside but with enough of a push she was kind and generous. 

“How did we end up with two Marleen’s?” Sam massaged the lines from her forehead. 

“You mean two George’s?” Martin joined the small group that hung back from the mischievous trio. 

“Either way, they’re an accident waiting to happen.” Lip confirmed with a sharp nod of his head. The older group laughed amongst themselves.  

—----------------------------------------

The group of eight had been walking for a day or two. They had enough supplies to last them a few more days in the forest and then they would need to venture out to another town to restock. But it was becoming harder to do with more mouths to feed, and hungry ones at that. 

“Lights fading, I think we got an hour left of sun before it sets.” Shifty glanced up to the sky as he measured the time with his hand. “We should make camp.”  

The rest of the group came to a halt dropping their heavy bags to the ground in relief. 

“My shoulders.” Perco whined as he massaged his sore limbs with his palm. 

“Get my back, I’ll get yours.” Luz jumped in front of the man. They both held each other’s shoulders whilst maintaining odd eye contact. They grunted, it was hard to tell if it was in pleasure or pain. But the sight made Sam uncomfortable. 

Turning away she set up the tent as Mars hunted for wood. The shorter blonde cutely tagged along behind Bull, chatting excitedly as she went, seemingly forgetting her task and then every now and then she would remember and bend down to pick up a random stick. 

Soon the fire was roaring and everyone sat around it with mildly full bellies, food was getting more scarce by the day. 

Everyone was sharing stories over the campfire. It had become an odd ritual they all fell into. 

Each member would share an account from their past, or a ghost tale, something to pass the time. Sam had always shared made up or scary stories, she had heard from others but never divulged into her own past. The rest of the group loved sharing history about their families and their lives beforehand. It was an odd way to get to know each other. 

“Rumour has it the disease came from water.” Perco reported from across the fire. 

Mars at that exact moment was halfway through her sip. Her eyes widened in panic, the young girl trapped the water in her mouth, stopping it from going any further down her throat. 

She was just about to chuck her full water bottle across the space and project the water she had stored in her mouth out, when Sam’s hand landed on her knee before she could do anything. 

Mouth ballooned with water Marleen turned to look at Sam who shook her head. 

“Bambi, we’ve been drinking this water for days. I’m sure if it was tainted we would be mindless rabids by now.” The tall girl reassured her petite counterpart.

The young girl swallowed the liquid that she still had in her mouth, wiping the sides of her lips from any of the water that had escaped during that time. 

“Right.” Mars agreed with Sam as she nodded her head. 

“Yeah, no it’s not from bottled water. Word has it they did an experiment on a small rural town and put whatever chemicals they were using into the town's water source. And then they shut down their mains pretty quickly after it… got out of hand.” Perco shivered at the thought. 

“It would only be their water supply that would have been contaminated.” Sam reassured the still tense looking Mars. 

“Do you know where the town was?” Sam enquired further, but Perco shook his head. 

“Nah, it’s only rumours I’ve heard in passing, so I have no idea if it’s true or not.” The group collectively sighed. They were completely isolated from the current events, but it appeared everyone was. With no means of communication there was no way for anyone to truly know what was happening in the world. They could only go from word of mouth. 

“Wish my phone still worked.” The young blonde sighed. She was desperate to know how her family was fearing in this hard time. Mars wanted to let them know she was safe for the moment and to hold on for her return. 

“You know my Dad called me every day.” The young blonde flashed her bright smile. Before it fell from her face and a heavy sigh left her lips, Sam quickly wrapped her arm around the young girl pulling her closer. The older girl gave a reassuring squeeze before someone else picked up the conversation that Mars had started. 

“You alright, Bam?” Sam whispered down as the rest of the men talked amongst themselves. The younger girl already had tears forming in her eyes but that didn't stop her from nodding and giving Sam a tight lipped smile. 

“What did he do?” The older woman prompted, seeing a hint of confusion on Marleen’s face, she explained, “Your dad, what did he do?” 

“Oh!” The tears were forgotten and Mars’ eyes lit up with a sparkle of purpose, “He owned a hardware store- two actually. He was trying to turn it into a franchise. He looked after the first one in Adair- that’s where we grew up.  And Rowan went to business school so he could run the other one, it was one town over in Bushnell but still close enough to come over every Sunday for dinner.” 

Samantha let a small smile creep onto her face as she watched the girl's demeanour change. Mars went on about her weekly family gatherings and how she would get to spend time with her niece and nephew. 

She explained how her mother moved to America from Spain when she fell in love with Desmond; her father. And how her Mum used to be a school teacher but retired and helped her dad with the garden section of their shop. 

“He’s alive. They all are, I just know it!” 

“Bam…” Sam’s smile had dropped, she didn’t want her friend to be filled with false hope. The likelihood that all of her family were alive was low. 

“Yeah?” Marleen’s big wide eyes looked up at Sam. She faltered, pausing slightly, she looked to her side and made eye contact with the nearest male member of the group; Lipton. 

The men had gone quiet while Marleen spoke of her kin and he had obviously been listening in, so when he heard Mars’ declaration and Sam’s hesitance, he looked up. 

The look on Sam’s face must have been a questioning one as Lipton answered with a small shake of his head. 

The older blonde was torn between being honest and probably hurting Marleen’s feelings or letting her have a moment of good. 

“I’m-“ She started, but the childlike look in the shorter girls eyes had softened her, “I’m sure you’re right.” 

———————

Leaving the forest had many pros and cons. 

The biggest pro: Going into towns or houses and finding supplies. The biggest con: Being out in the open where there is more chance of running into humans or rabids. 

But it was necessary, venturing into the nearby town of West Hickory was the group of eight’s big plan for the next few days. What could go wrong in only a day or two?

Sam was walking near the front next to Shifty, the pair navigating the group out of the forest and towards the township. Lip, Bull and Martin followed the leading duo side by side by side. 

As usual, the troublesome trio were lagging behind and goofing off. Luz was teaching the other two some aimless game and once they got the hang of it, there was no stopping them. Giggles and laughs echoed through the otherwise silent team. 

A scream rippled from the back of the group, causing everyone to pause their movements in shock. All heads whipped around to find the reason for the unexpected disruption. 

It wasn’t a noise you wanted to hear in the middle of the apocalypse. The group rushed back to find the owner of the scream. 

George and Mars stood, seemingly crowding around the other person who was on the floor. Perco lay on the ground groaning in pain. 

“What happened?” Sam pushed her way in between Luz and Marleen. The young girl stood with her hands clasped over her mouth and a worried look on her face, Luz wore the same expression. 

“We were just goofing around and Frank slipped.” Mars finally released her mouth from her grasp so that she could talk. 

“Oh shit, I hope it isn’t bad.” George cringed looking down at his friend writhing in pain on the floor. 

“Where are you hurt?” Lip asked as he knelt down by the man. 

“My-” Perco started and then stopped again. The group that surrounded the man collectively lent in so that they could hear him. 

“Your what?” Martin prompted the man.

“Uh-my…” But Frank refused to finish the sentence. 

“My god man, spit it out!” Sam urged, she needed to know now whether or not she needed to put him out of his misery.

“MY ASS!” Perco yelped.

Everyone fell silent processing what the man had just said. There was a beat before the whole group was in hysterics. The short man seemed less than impressed. 

“Oh yeah, laugh it up guys, real funny, ha ha. I fell over and hurt my ass, ok! It’s an actual problem!” Frank replied grumpily, but the group couldn’t hear him over their shared laughter.   

“Oh damn, man that’s terrible.” Luz tried to comfort the man but he couldn’t get his shit together enough to string a coherent sentence. 

“You’re all fucking children, you know!” Perco reprimanded his friends who laughed right in his face. 

“That was your greatest asset.” Luz elbowed Martin who about doubled over at his stupid pun. 

“To ease the pain in your butt I’ll grab you some ass-prin.” The man couldn’t help himself. 

“I mean I’d make a joke about your rear, butt it’s too cheeky.” George doubled over in hysterics but the rest of the group's own laughter had died down, they all watched the man laugh far too hard at his own joke. 

“Get it, rear!” But no one seemed to be in on his hilarious banter. “Oh come on, that was the best one!” Luz pouted, but his peers focussed their attention back onto the man who still lay on the ground. 

“You’re gonna have to show us the damage.” Bull told Frank, who clutched his ass with both of his hands. 

“No.” Perco shook his head. “That’s not necessary, see.” The man struggled to get to his feet only making it halfway up before cursing in pain and crumpling back to the floor. 

“Fine.” Perco admitted defeat. “But the girl’s can’t see.” 

All eyes fell on the two women who watched the man in concern. An aww fell from the younger’s lips, while the older shrugged. 

“I didn’t particularly want to see your ass, Frank.” Sam grabbed the shorter girl by her shoulders and manoeuvred her away from the men. 

The pair sat far enough away that they couldn't see what was happening but they could still hear it. Frank cursed wildly as the rest of the guys discussed their game plan. 

It took an hour for the group to sort out his wound, they had little in the way of medical supplies. Bandages and a few steri-strips, they had nothing but water to clean the wound. From the sound of things it was a big injury. 

“God, now there’s blood all over my pants. Thanks Lip!” Frank called in disgust. 

“Well it’s your ass that won’t stop gushing, Perco!” The men continued to bicker between themselves. 

Finally they had the wound semi-covered and had stopped the bleeding for the time being. Frank clutched onto the neck of Bull as he piggy backed him. 

“Ladies, we're gonna need to find somewhere with medical supplies. I’m worried that it will get infected if we don’t stitch it up.” Martin informed the girls who were sitting on a nearby log waiting for everyone to be done. 

“Next town is only a few miles away. We can get there by nightfall and stake it out from there.” Sam stood from her position with Mars jumping up by her side not long after. “Shifty and I can go ahead and make sure the path is clear, so we don’t have to worry about any more accidents.” Martin gave a curt nod before he called over his shoulder for the men to get ready to move out. 

The group moved slowly, Bull carrying Frank on his back and the rest of the men carrying his belongings since he couldn’t do it himself. 

“Shifty!” Sam called, turning around as she walked, he had dipped out of sight just before she turned to look for him. The girl went against her own rules and continued searching for the man as she travelled not facing the way she was going. 

The woman met a solid wall. This is why she always followed her own rules. Sam turned examining the hard object she had collided with. 

Her eyes widened as her gaze trailed up the structure. Though it wasn’t a structure, it was a man. Sam whipped her gun from her hip and pointed it directly between the eyes of the person who cockily glanced down at her. 

“Who the fuck are you?” The words growled from her throat. She was good at menacing. 

“I like a woman who can use her words.” Somehow the man’s smile grew even more smug. His hand came up to Sam’s face, his fingers so close to her cheek. She resisted the urge to shoot him right at the moment. 

“Don’t touch me.” The blonde woman warned the stranger. 

“You walked into me, Dollface.” Something about the way the pet name rolled off his tongue made her shiver. She didn’t like the unknown feeling that washed over her skin.  

“Don’t call me Dollface, you creep. I will use this.” She gestured to the weapon she clutched tightly. Yet he didn’t flinch, his smile grew wider as his eyebrows raised. 

“Feisty.” The tall man leaned forward ever so slightly, as if he was testing whether or not she was bluffing. 

“Lieb.” A stern voice came from behind the man. At the same time the rest of the group finally found their way to Sam. They stopped short behind her assessing the show down she had found herself in. 

Shifty fell into stance beside her, his own weapon raised.   

A man came into view, tall with jet black hair and stubble across his chin. 

“Ah, the boss is calling. Nice talk, sweetheart.” The man reached forward to tap his fingers under Sam’s chin, but stopped when Shifty’s gun turned to him. 

The stranger threw his arms up in mock surrender before he sent a wink to Sam, then turned and walked away. 

“Sorry about him, he doesn’t listen to simple commands.” The end of the statement seemed to be aimed towards the man as he walked back to the older looking gentlemen. 

“You can lower your weapons, we aren’t here to fight you.” But Sam didn’t budge. “You’re right. I‘ve given you no reason to trust me.” The man spoke to the tall blonde, a smile grew on hip lips. 

“Speirs.” The man gestured at himself. “You met Liebgott, I have two other men with me.”

And just like that two guys appeared from the bushes. It made Sam’s stomach turn, if something was to go wrong with the first interaction those men were lying in wait. She narrowed her eyes at the group of four.   

“Tipper and Grant.” Speirs introduced his men. 

“You can be on your way then.” Sam spoke harshly. They had picked up enough strays, she also wasn’t going to look behind her for the group vote, this was her decision. 

“I think we found you just in time.” Lieb said arrogantly, “Looks like you have a casualty.” He gestured his head back at Perco who still clung onto Bull’s back. 

“Why would you offer us help, we haven’t given you anything.” Shifty now spoke from her side. Sam was glad she wasn’t the only one who found this situation fishy. 

“You can offer us something.” Speirs replied. Sam’s eyes narrowed even further. 

“Sam.” Martin called from behind her. “Perco isn’t looking too good. We need their help.” 

The tall blonde ground her teeth together. There was no way she was asking for help from these men. 

“Samantha.” Bull’s voice was stern, the girl still hadn’t lowered her gun.  

“Fine.” The older girl huffed and finally relented, flicking the safety back on and statshing her weapon on her hip. 

“How can we help?”

HEHEHEHEHE ok so let me know all your thoughts, do we like the introduction? More BOB men you're welcome! Poor Perco and his pesky ass wound, classic BOB men if I do say so myself! AHHHHHH I'm so excited for the next chapter! Love you guys!

Esra✨

[kengan-daddies]

I was thinking Ohma x Reader. I was thinking where Ohma and Reader got into an argument where Ohma got himself hurt from fighting and she find out. They are arguing at their shared apartment and they’re in a relationship. Then they gave each other silent treatment in the next day after an argument. Since then they can’t ignore each and they made love. 18**

Don't Leave Me Ohma Tokita

Anime : Kengan Ahura

Character : Ohma Tokita

Warning : Angst, , Arguing, Love Making sex

Don't Leave Me Ohma Tokita

Don't Leave Me Ohma Tokita

You and Ohma haven't been seeing eye to eye lately, and you aren't sure why either, you and Ohma having little argument s wasn't uncommon, but the tension would usually fade after a while... But this time, it seemed as though this cloud wasn't going to break until you both had a scary argument that possibility tear you apart.

You've been trying to avoid him and the issue at hand for the longest time, trying to let the tension fall away naturally... But it just seemed to make it worst. So, which a trembling heart and cold feet, you asked him one day at breakfast. "Ohma... Is everything okay?" You asked him. He gave you the usual, "I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?" As he'd gobble his sausage and bacon.

Your grip on your fork would tighten and your throat would tighten. "Are you sure? You seem more irritated then normal." You asked, he gave a frustrated sigh as he'd look off to the side, thinking of wether he wanted to answer you or not... "Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry about me... In fact I should be asking you the same." He said as he looked over at you. You blinked, "Me? What kind of tension have I've been giving off?" You asked.

You didn't think that, maybe the one with the tension was you. "You've been avoiding me lately, never coming to bed at night, never wanting to stay in the same room for long... So if anything I should be asking you 'what's wrong'."... WHAT!? THE AUDACITY OF THIS FUCKER!! THIS ASSHAT OF AN IDIOT!!!! " I've been avoiding you because of your fucked up attitude!!" You said angrily. He stared at you with an uncaring stare but there was a hint of anger in his eyes. "My fucked up attitude? What about your attitude!?" He countered, and you crossed your arms. "What attitude? I've been nothing but understanding and considerate of your emotions." You said.

"You've been a real bitch to me lately, not wanting to answer a simple question, not wanting to even talk, every time I talk to you, you give me a damn attitude, huffing and puffing, like what the fuck!?" He said, his voice rising in anger. "I haven't been 'huffing and puffing!' Like I said, I've been trying to give you space so that you can relax from whatever the hell this is!!" You yelled. He rolled his eyes. "Don't give me that bullshit!! You've been just as tense as I've been, you'd shove my hand away, complain when I even try to give you a hug, and you've been more bitchy lately too!!" He yelled back.

Your glare hardened as you stood up from the table. "Well since I've been such a 'BITCH!!!' DON'T COME BOTHERING ME ANYMORE THEN!!" You shouted as you walked around the table towards the hall. "FINE THEN!! COME FIND ME WHEN YOU AREN'T SUCH A FUCKING CRYBABY!!" He shouted back as he made his way to the front door, snatching it open as he slammed it behind him. You stood there in the hall, looked back at the door as you glared with tears in your eyes. "Fucking asshole." You muttered to yourself as you walked into your room.

That was two weeks ago, and the silence in your apartment was heavy, Ohma came home a day later, but he refused to speak to you so you did the same back. You'd both silently walk around each other, not spearing the other a glance as you'd both move about, at first you wouldn't even cook for him, only making enough for yourself, but he started leaving the apartment, staying gone for hours till a day, and that made you paranoid. What if he was out cheating? Eating at another woman's home because you aren't feeding him anymore, not washing his clothes anymore... You were mad at him but you didn't want to lose him.

So you went back to cooking for him and washing his clothes, but no talking and no touching, and that seemed to keep him around more. He had his own strike against you too, he refused to go shopping with you, letting you go out on your own, let you carry everything in on your own... But that didn't last for too long when he noticed the young man who lived a few doors down from you both helping you with your groceries and shopping bags, he'd watch as you laughed and talk with him, even going as far as to let him walk into your home as he'd place your bags down on the counter or the floor... He had to put a stop to that.

So he went back to shopping with you, helping you carry your bags, chasing any potential competition away, he didn't want to lose you in such a way, but still no talking and touching. It went from two weeks to three weeks, to a month. The silence was beginning to weigh on you, you missed him. You missed hearing his voice, his laugh, you missed his weird hugs and nose bumps, you missed having him in your bed, your stubborn pride be damned, you wanted your man back.

So you made up your mind... It was deep into the night, the weather was beginning to change, the nights were becoming colder and longer, and the heater was on, but it wasn't enough, so you got up from your warm bed, sleep clouding your mind as you walked out of your room rounding the corner as you saw him sleeping on the couch. You looked at him with sleepy eyes, your fingers gently combing through his hair, but you didn't get far as his hand shot up and he grabbed your wrist in a firm grip. His eyes opened and he gave a groggy groan as he looked up, seeing your half-asleep form standing over him.

He didn't say anything as he pulled you down towards him by your wrist, you climbed up on the couch, your legs straddling his waist as you sat down on top of him, his hands gently going to hold your waist. You placed your hands down gently on his chest as you landed down. "I miss you Ohma, I'm sorry." You whispered, his hand came up as he pushed your hair away from your face. "I miss you too." He said You smiled as you leaned down, your lips brushing together softly before you pressed down deepening the kiss, your tongues danced together in each other's mouths, your mixed salvia coating both of yours and his lips.

Your hand trailed up from his chest, up and over his shoulders as they tangled into his hair. He groaned as your nails gently raked across his scalp and you gave a light chuckle. His hands trailed down your body until they landed on your ass, his hands gripped the soft flesh, massaging it a few times roughly until he lipped his hands up your large shirt pushing it up, you both sat up, and you raised your arms so that he could take your shirt off, throwing it off somewhere as he wrapped his arms back around you as he kissed up your sternum and jaw, latching on your neck as he sucked.

You moaned softly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your hips softly rocking against his, making his thigh flex under you as he bucked up weakly. "I love you, Ohma... I'm sorry." You whisper, and he shifts, flipping you over as he places you on your back his eyes were so expressive, what his mouth didn't say, his eyes did, and what his eyes couldn't express he put it into action. He was usually relaxed or rowdy during sex, but this was different. It was more gentle, slow, and full of love and emotion.

He held you tight to him as he trusted into you, your sweet whimpers and cries being gently silenced with a kiss, his eyes never left your face, taking in your natural beauty, he couldn't imagine a life without you, he's grown accustomed to your love, he'd destroy this whole apartment complex if something were to happen to you. It was a deep love, He loved Yamashita Kazou, but this was different. This was deeper, it was hard to explain. You made his heart soar with happiness every time you smiled, hell just looking at him made his heart beat like crazy for you. His heart broke every time he saw you cry or even angry with him, he felt more like a man with you just in his arms.

He loved you... He loves you, you were his one and only, and nothing would ever change that. The feeling of your pussy fluttering made his breath hitch, your arms tightening around his neck as your back arched. "Ah--- Ohma....Oh Ohma." You whined as your orgasm came crashing down on you, his arms wrapped tighter around your waist as he buried his face into your neck. "I love you, Y/n" He muttered into your skin, as his hips picked up speed losing his pattern as he felt his end rushing. "I love you so much... Please...Please don't leave me... I'm sorry." He spoke, his cock throbbed and his eyes wept as he met his end.

He groaned loudly into your shoulder as he filled your womb, the warm liquid rushing into you made you give a soft moan as you combed your hands through his hair as you held him close to you... You both lay there in each other's arms, soft kisses being exchanged as the semen that lay in your womb is prayed over by you both, hoping that it'll bloom into a child that was made by love.

[d1xonss]

Desert Rose

Chapter 59 ~ The Priest

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 5

✧ Word Count : 5.9k

In this chapter ~ When the group continues to move with no real destination in mind, they're suddenly thrown off course as shouts for help could be heard in the distance. It turns out it was some kind of pastor, offering his church as sanctuary for those who saved him from the clutches of evil. Though it was no secret that a few members didn't trust his intentions.

AN ~ It's officially been a year since I started writing this story and uploading it to wattpad. And though I started posting chapters here a few months later, I still just wanted to say thank you for all the love and support! It truly means the world to me, and I can't wait for you guys to read what else I have planned for the many chapters to come:))

We all woke up fairly early the next morning, merely minutes after the sun began to rise to keep on moving. Rick made it very clear that he wanted us as far away from Terminus as possible, though he didn't really have a clear destination in mind. It gave me that same familiar feeling of when we lost the farm, not knowing where to turn to next or where to go when there weren't many options to begin with.

Subconsciously I think we all wanted to find a safe place we could build up again like the prison, although that was a long shot. But the truth was, I didn't really care if we had a plan or not. I hadn't felt this positive in a very long time, and to me it didn't matter where we were going, as long as we all stayed together.

We all formed some kind of line as we walked towards who knows where, leaving me next to Carl as we talked casually while he held Judith in his arms. Our conversation was hushed, unheard from the people walking a little ways ahead of us as we smiled and laughed quietly together for the first time in a while. I ravished in the feeling, loving to see the kid actually relax as he felt safe and hopeful after everything we went through.

Though a gentle touch on my shoulder seemed to stop me in my tracks, turning to see Daryl looking down at me with a small smile, "Was bout to go hunt. Ya wanna come with me?" he asked.

I nodded as I glanced back to Carl, "Let your dad know. I'll be back soon, okay?"

"I will." he said. 

With that, I followed Daryl deeper into the woods so we could try and find more food to bring back. I stayed pretty quiet as I looked for any tracks in the dirt, but of course it was pretty slim to none, our luck not being on our sides with finding something to eat. Let alone enough to feed the whole group. All I could manage to see were old walker footprints, settling with looking up in the trees instead to try and maybe spot a few squirrels. 

My eyes scanned around the branches as I tried to pinpoint some nests built up high in the trees, but it was hard to focus on that when all I could feel was Daryl's eyes burning into me. I tried to ignore it for the few silent minutes we spent out there, but my annoyance only grew as I was the only one attempting to find food when it was his idea in the first place.

A sigh left my lips as I finally turned around to face him, watching as he immediately looked down towards the ground acting as if he hadn't been caught.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked.

His lowered eyes slowly traveled up to reach my own, "Like what?" he asked, as if he didn't already know what I was referring to.

I huffed as my arms crossed over my chest, "Like...I'm going to break or something." I clarified.

He shrugged, "Just worried about ya."

"I'm fine." I assured in a much calmer tone, not wanting to start something, but also not wanting to be seen as someone weak. 

His eyes held nothing but sadness and concern when he looked towards me, silently telling me he didn't believe a word coming out of my mouth. To be completely honest, I don't even know why I lie to him anymore, because one way or another he's going to know.

"Okay," I confessed, "I'm not fine...but I will be." His face didn't falter, as if waiting for me to continue, "I just need some time." I finished.

This caused him to nod with a small, reluctant smile on his face, now moving to walk right beside me, searching the trees as well. I didn't want to wander too far from the others, but so far, we weren't having much luck finding any animals to bring back. Everything seemed empty, like even the wildlife knew to stay far away from the place we too were trying desperately to get away from.

The silence that fell between us was nice, comfortable, though I missed hearing his voice. But as if he read my mind, he opened his mouth to fill the quiet.

"Talk to me about somethin." he said.

I felt my face scrunch, "What do you mean?"

"Anythin," he said simply, "Just wanna hear yer voice. Tell me somethin I might not know bout cha."

I faltered for a moment as we seemed to have the same damn mind, but laughed quietly to myself at his request, "Well you're my husband, you know pretty much everything...but let me think."

I began to rack my brain for something that he had yet to find out about me but nothing instantly came to mind. On the farm, we spent most of the time talking nonstop, getting to know every single detail about the other before we even got together. So, there was truly not much that he didn't already know. In fact, he probably knew me better than anyone else.

 "Why don't you go first?" I suggested when I couldn't think of anything good, "Gives me more time to come up with something."

"Alright." he huffed, growing silent as he picked through his mind as well. I then looked back towards him a moment later when he let out a quiet gasp, watching as the corners of his mouth tilted up as he nodded, "I got one."

"Go ahead." I said softly.

He grinned at me, "So, before all this...whenever I went huntin, I would always bring back at least one rock I found in the woods. I ended up havin a lil collection by the end."

My heart swelled, "That's adorable. You're so cute."

"Pfft." he scoffed, "I ain't cute." he said defensively, although I could see a little blush appear on his cheeks at the compliment.

"Well, I think you're pretty cute...you're just going to have to deal with it." I said sweetly, reaching out to gently boop his nose.

He rolled his eyes, "Woman, I swear-"

But I stopped him before he could say anything else by kissing him softly. I pulled his frame closer to mine and parted my lips a little so he could easily slip in his tongue. He quietly groaned in response, causing me to smile against his mouth as my hands trailed down to give his big arms a gentle squeeze.

I pulled away after a few seconds to see his eyes open slowly, having a hazy look to them which made me smile brightly as he tried to collect his thoughts.

"Alright...I'll be cute for ya."

I smirked, "You're whipped." I teased.

"Aw, well can ya blame me?" he asked before leaning in to peck my lips once, twice, before finally breaking apart, "Yer turn." 

"Oh yeah," I said, "Well, the only thing I could think of that's kind of interesting is that I know another language."

His eyes widened a little, "Really?"

I nodded my head, "Mhm, I took French throughout high school, and I can still speak it somewhat. I'm a little rusty though."

"Say somethin." he said a bit excitedly.

I thought for a moment before smiling softly, "Je t'aime beaucoup chéri."

His eyes lit up at the phrase, but I thought it was even sweeter that he didn't even know what I said, he just loved the sound of it. "What'd ya say?" he asked.

"I said, I love you very much honey."

He then asked me to repeat it, surprising me a little when he tried to say it himself, nailing it almost right away. I didn't think I could fall anymore in love with his voice, but when he spoke French, I think I could've melted into a puddle if he didn't have his arm placed around my waist.

"You sound sexy." I complimented.

He raised his eyebrows, "Yeah?"

"Yeah." I confirmed.

He smiled and kissed me once more before we were off again to try and actually find something to bring back. Once we ventured further out, by the grace of God we finally found a handful of squirrels, Daryl pulling out a thick string from his bag so we were able to carry them back. To my surprise, we actually got more than what I was expecting, but it still didn't seem like much considering the number of mouths we now had to feed.

After being away from the others for far too long, we decided to head back towards their path to catch up with them, seeing as though we had something that would last us a little while. Though I couldn't help but notice that Daryl was a little more on edge as we walked back, trying his best to hide his anxious feeling, but I caught on almost immediately. His eyes scanned around the area rapidly, almost as if he was keeping an eye out expectantly for something lurking by. But I didn't linger on it for very long when I noticed the group beginning to come into view.

They didn't see us however, and once they heard a stick snap from underneath my foot, they all raised their weapons in our direction. My eyebrows raised a little as Daryl and I coincidentally raised our hands at the same time in a joking matter.

"We surrender." Daryl muttered sarcastically.

I laughed and nudged his shoulder lightly, seeing the rest of them visibly relax as we kept moving forward. Though Rick seemed to make a beeline over to us instead of leading the group like he once was, not saying a word as he looked at Daryl expectantly.

"Nothin." was all he said, and I furrowed my brows in confusion.

"Nothing?" I asked, watching as the both of them tried desperately not to let me in on the private discussion, "Guys, come on. Secrets don't make friends." I reminded with raised brows as I stared at them expectantly.

Daryl let out a sigh before he finally caved, "Last night I had this feelin that someone coulda been watchin us. But when we went out, I didn't see no tracks. Just me bein paranoid."

I let out a breath, "Okay, good. But please just tell me the next time you think there's a psychopath following us." I joked.

"Yes ma'am." he nodded, and I rolled my eyes at the famous phrase he loved to use to get a reaction out of me. And clearly it worked just as well this time as it did the last, seeing him chuckle to himself.

"So, whatever you heard last night-" Rick stepped in.

"It's more what I felt. But if someone's followin us, there woulda been somethin." Daryl confirmed.

Rick nodded, relief filling him momentarily before he looked back towards me, "You doing okay?"

I knew he meant his question with the best intentions, but the annoyance I was feeling only started to bubble over. To everyone else, I had apparently grown fragile after what happened to me when I was out there on my own, but that was far from the truth. It was just a minor bump in the road, one that I had taken care of myself, it was as simple as that. But I could see almost everyone was walking on eggshells around me now that they had an idea of what went down without knowing the whole story, and it was starting to get to me.

"Jesus, I'm fine." I snapped slightly, turning on my heel to walk away without another word.

When my back was turned and I had created some distance, I heard them begin to talk quietly with each other as I only got further away, but I just kept going. Blowing off some steam as I finally caught up with the others, falling in line near the back as I took out my bow to hold in my grasp in case of any danger that passed by.

But as it turns out, I had unknowingly planted myself right next to the new girl, Tara, without even realizing it at first. I watched out of the corner of my eye as she scanned the side of my face, clearly trying to come up with something to say.

"We didn't uh...we didn't get to officially meet." she said after a few seconds, "I'm Tara." she introduced, holding out a hand for me to shake.

I glanced over at her before panning down towards her extended hand, reaching down to grasp it lightly, "Rose."

She smiled with a nod as our hands eventually parted, "Listen, uh...Glenn told me about how you almost...tore my head off last night."

I chuckled sarcastically to myself, "Oh, I'm sure he did." I muttered, not surprised in the slightest, "Him and his big mouth have been nothing but a pain in my ass since the beginning."

She laughed a little before her smile faded once more, "My point is...I'm not trying to cause any trouble. It's just-"

"I know," I interrupted as my face softened, "You don't have to explain yourself to me. Glenn gave me the gist and...I trust him. So, I guess that means I trust you too. You're good."

She let out a relieved sigh, "Good...cause I'm not gonna lie, you kinda scare me a little."

"Good." I said simply, sending her a wink to show that I was joking.

She smiled slightly and held out her hand again, this time in a fist. Her smile seemed to be contagious as my lip quirked up as well, knocking her knuckles lightly with my own before we continued walking in comfortable silence. 

That is until we all suddenly heard a man began to scream and cry for help, his voice echoing through the forest though he didn't seem too far away from the path we were taking. Everyone stopped in their tracks as our ears perked up, our weapons clutched tightly in our hands as we tried to listen and pinpoint where the sound was coming from. But the last thing I wanted or needed right now was to cross paths with someone that we didn't know, and didn't trust.

"Dad, come on!" Carl tried.

I shook my head as I made a beeline towards the front of the group, "Hell no, we keep moving. No more strangers."

"Rose please, he needs help." Carl begged, his eyes darting from Rick to me to see who would make the first move, the decision the others were anticipating for.

I could easily see how anxious the kid grew, wanting to help someone who was clearly about to lose his life, but I didn't know if we should risk it. It could be some kind of trap, the unknown scaring me much more than anything else seemed to as I had an inner debate with myself.

But I eventually closed my eyes as I made up my mind, groaning a little in irritation before running in the direction of all the noise, hearing everyone else following my lead to have my back. As we weaved through the many trees and different obstacles, it wasn't long before we came across the man who was making all the noise amongst the quiet.

He was stuck up on a giant rock as a few walkers surrounded him, some grabbing at his feet while the others reached from different angles. He was now crying as he desperately tried to fight back, wearing to what looked to be a priest collar and all black clothing.

A gunshot was fired from just behind me, watching as one of the walkers went down instantly as the bullet shot through its skull. I grabbed one of my knives and quickly stabbed the nearest corpse in the head, Rick coming up beside me and doing the same thing from my left as we got the ones that clung onto the man's limbs.

The rest dropped like flies as we took care of them with ease, our attention now on the man still somewhat frozen on top of the giant rock in shock. He continued to cry breathlessly as his hands clung to the top for dear life, he didn't look like a threat. But looks could be deceiving, and I was far from ready to trust him just yet.

"Come on down." Rick said to the man.

He scanned the ground below him uneasily to make sure it was safe, before slowly sliding down the side and landing firmly on his feet. He looked to be in pain as his wide eyes scanned all of us, Rick asking if he was alright as he tried to break him out of his little trance.

The man held up a finger to tell us to wait before leaning over and suddenly throwing up everything that remained in his stomach. I cringed at the sound and turned my head away slightly, trying not to laugh at everyone's faces as they watched the man in disgust.

"Sorry," he whispered as he wiped his mouth with his shirt sleeve, standing back up to his full height to face us again, "Yes, thank you. I'm Gabriel."

"Do you have any weapons on you?" Rick asked cautiously.

Gabriel chuckled and looked around nervously, "Do I look like I would have any weapons?" he asked.

"We don't give two short and curlies what it looks like." Abraham said.

I blinked a few times as I glanced back to the man in confusion, trying not to laugh at the same time with the random, out of pocket comment he just made. I thought back to what Glenn said just last night about him, and low and behold, he was right.

"I have no weapons of any kind. The word of God is the only protection I need." Gabriel assured.

Daryl scoffed from beside me, "Sure didn't look like it."

Gabriel only smiled, "I called for help. Help came."

My eyes scanned the man for a moment as I thought about what he meant. I was the one who took off running first, but I sure as hell knew it wasn't God that compelled me to rush towards the complete stranger. It was just...well I actually didn't know what it was. Pity maybe? Or the desperate look in Carl's eyes? Hormones? Who fucking knows.

"Do you- do you have any food?" he suddenly asked, "Whatever I had left just hit the ground."

Carl almost instantly reached inside his jacket pocket, pulling something out to offer it to him with an extended hand, "We have some pecans." 

The man smiled, muttering a small "Thank you." as he took a few from his hand and placed them in his mouth. He began to glance around at all of us again in clear nervousness, his eyes lingering on Judith as she began to coo in Tyreese's arms.

"That's a beautiful child." he complimented.

My eyes narrowed dangerously as I glared daggers at the man, instinctively stepping in front of Tyreese to block the baby from his view. I watched his eyes widen as he instantly looked somewhere other than my intense stare, settling with looking to my left back towards Rick.

"Do you have a camp?" he asked.

"No," Rick said immediately, "Do you?"

"I have a church." he said simply. Shocker.

Rick thought for a second before speaking again, "Hold your hands above your head." When Gabriel did as he asked, Rick moved over towards him, starting to pat him down as he questioned him. "How many walkers have you killed?"

I stepped in quickly, "Rick no. Not this guy." I said sternly.

He looked back at me, "He has a church."

"Woohoo," I cheered sarcastically, "I don't give a shit. I'm not doing this again...I can't."

The last part of my sentence came out quieter than I had intended it too, but I wasn't going to lie; I was scared. After everything that happened to us recently, I thought that the others might agree that going with this stranger wasn't a good idea. He could have more people waiting for us back at his sanctuary and attack us all. I didn't want to risk that. Risk anyone else's lives.

Rick turned to face me fully upon hearing my plea, placing a hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze as he wanted me to really hear him, "Trust me." he whispered.

I stared at him for a few seconds before looking back to the priest, watching as he smiled nervously at me. I turned my attention back to Rick and reluctantly nodded, knowing that I only agreed because I did truly trust him. Not because of the pity I felt for the man.

Rick nodded back to me in return, before turning to face Gabriel who raised his arms up again, "How many walkers?" he repeated.

"Not any actually." he confessed.

"How many people have you killed?"

His eyes widened, his mouth slightly parting in shock as he was blown away he was even accused of such a thing, "None."

"Why?"

"Because the Lord abhors violence." he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, the Lord also wanted that one guy to kill his own son as a sacrifice instead of a goat." I stated, pointing out that God wasn't necessarily a splendid guy, before walking up closer so we were face to face. "What have you done? We've all done something." I questioned in a dangerously low tone.

He looked nervous once again as swallowed harshly, beginning to stutter over his words, "I'm a sinner. I sin almost every day...but those sins, I confess them to God. Not strangers." 

I couldn't help but scoff as I ran my tongue over my teeth, "And I only save my family from danger. Not strangers. Today's just full of surprises, huh?"

He truly didn't know how to answer me, beginning to stammer over his words as he realized I wasn't backing down. That is until Michonne spoke up from behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder for me to back off, mentioning the church he brought up originally. The man then didn't hesitate as he began to lead us in the opposite direction of where we were headed, the group following close behind as he ducked through the many branches in his way.

I still didn't know if I fully trusted this guy, even before we were being leaded blindly through the forest. He was definitely hiding something, but then again maybe his sin was something like he forgot to pray before bed one night or some shit. However, I had grown to read people pretty well, and watching him get a little too nervous at the simple question I asked him, caused a red flag to pop up in my mind.

"Hey earlier, were you watching us?" Rick suddenly asked Gabriel.

"I keep to myself. Nowadays, people are just as dangerous as the dead don't you think?" he asked.

Daryl shook his head, "Nah, people are worse."

"Well, I wasn't watching you. I haven't been beyond the stream near my church more than a few times since it all started. That was the furthest I've gone before today." he informed.

Everyone nodded in silent agreement, moving along right behind him, "Or maybe I'm lying." Gabriel suddenly spoke again, "Maybe I'm lying about everything and there's no church ahead at all. Maybe I'm leading you into a trap so I can steal all your squirrels."

We all seemed to stop walking at the same time as he attempted to joke around, but it only caused all of us to become a little more on edge. Everyone clutched their weapons on instict a little bit tighter as he slowly turned back around to face us the moment he heard we had stopped.

His mouth parted as he noticed we didn't understand the joking manner, watching out of the corner of my eye as Daryl moved his squirrels behind his back protectively so they would be out of view.

Gabriel looked apologetic, "Members of my flock had often told me that my sense of humor leaves much to me desired."

"Yeah, hilarious." I deadpanned.

He just nodded his head and didn't say another word, knowing that at this point he was just digging himself deeper into a hole. We walked only a little further before a simple white church started to come into view, surrounded by a quiet beautiful greenery. It kind of reminded me of the church we thought Sophia was hiding in way back when this all started, everything about it seemed almost exactly the same. 

Gabriel walked up the few steps towards the giant double doors, pulling out a key to unlock the handle, but Rick stopped him. "Hold up," he said and held his hand out for the keys, "Can we take a look around first? We just want to hold onto our squirrels."

I snorted as I watched Gabriel visibly hesitate to hand the keys over, but eventually complied so we could scope the place out before him. Rick was the first to walk in with his gun raised and we all followed cautiously to see if there was any type of threat waiting for us inside. It was dark and completely silent in the space, the only light coming from a quite beautiful stained-glass window in the very front of the structure.

I stood tall in the back, lingering by the entrance as the other scoped out every inch of the place, focusing more on the doors toward the right and left at the end of the room. But it didn't take long before I saw Rick coming back out, giving me a nod that it was clear before I turned to exit the place along with the rest of them. He was telling the truth.

Gabriel looked a little relieved as we walked back outside, nodding towards the place, "I spent months here without stepping out the front door. If you found someone inside, well it would've been surprising." he said.

"Thanks for this." Carl said gratefully.

I looked down towards him with softened eyes, wrapping my arm around his shoulders and giving his arm a soft squeeze. This kid had been through hell and back but was still so thankful for everything he had. I swear most of the time he was more mature than I was.

"We found a short bus out back, it don't run but I bet we could fix that in a day or two. Father here says he don't want it. Looks like we found ourselves some transport." Abraham announced as he made his way back from around the building.

Rick only nodded as he spoke again, "You know what's at stake here, right?" the burly man asked.

"Yeah, I do." Rick said.

"We can take a breath-" Michonne began to say.

But Abraham was quick to interrupt her, "We take a breath, we slow down, shit inevitably goes down."

"We need supplies no matter what we do next." I stepped in, "And if I remember right, you said it would take a day or two to fix that bus. That gives the rest of us a break we need, and we have shelter right here." I gestured to the church.

He clicked his tongue, wanting to protest but I spoke again before he got a chance, "I'm not trying to be a pain in the ass, okay? But you can't look me in the eye and tell me with a straight face that we haven't been through hell the past few hours. Just a day or two...and then we can go on your little field trip."

He huffed, "Ain't no field trip, missy. It's a mission that's going to save everyone's asses. It's gonna save the world." he stated confidently.

I nodded my head slowly, "Yeah, let me know how that works out in the end." I muttered before glancing back at Eugene. I gave him a subtle look that he would be able to read, telling him silently that I knew his little secret. Everything clicked together when he shifted slightly under my gaze; he was lying.

After seeing enough to only confirm my suspicions, I moved to head back into the church, following behind everyone else except the small trio who lingered outside as they now didn't know what to do.

I slowly walked right up to the very front as everyone else seemed to fan out from around me, though I couldn't pull my eyes away from the giant window. It was mesmerizing, the beautiful colors flowing out of the glass only illuminated everything else so beautifully. They were so bright and vibrant, something I hadn't seen in a long time, it practically hypnotized me.

Until there was a sudden presence at my side, gently placing a hand on the small of my back to turn me around to face them. My eyes then met with Daryl's as he smiled at me softly, though I frowned a little to myself at the black eye he still had.

"It'll be nice to sleep somewhere with a roof for a little while." I commented.

He nodded, "Yeah, tell me bout it."

I tilted my head, "But you love being outside."

"M' just happy to sleep somewhere other than the ground," he said, nodding to the many pews behind us, "Ain't gettin any younger you know."

"Yeah, that's fair..." I trailed off as I ran my hands gently up and down his arms.

I then slowly realized the position we were in, facing each other with our arms tangled together in the front of an altar, only causing me to wonder what it would be like to get married in a place like this. We obviously never had an official wedding, but being in an actual church made me think more about it, especially with the beautiful window illuminating the space. 

He caught my mind wandering almost instantly, placing his finger under my chin to get me to look back up at him, "Whacha thinkin bout?" he asked.

I shrugged, "Nothing. Just...did you ever think about getting married somewhere like this?"

He hummed as he thought for a moment, "With you? Or just in general?"

"In general."

"Pfft." he scoffed, "No."

"Why?" I asked, confused.

"Cause I never thought I would ever get married." he said simply before a slow smile spread across his face, "But then I met a real pretty girl, and somehow convinced her to like me enough to put a ring on her finger." he said as he ran his thumb over the diamond on my left hand.

I smiled a bit sheepishly, "Well, first of all, you got her to love you. Second, any woman would be insanely lucky to have you, leaving me the luckiest girl on the planet." I winked, "And third...I don't have a third, but you get it."

He chuckled, "Alright, yeah, I get it. Why are ya thinkin bout gettin married anyway?"

"I don't know...I guess I always wanted to get married in a pretty church like this one. But it's the end of the world so it doesn't really matter anymore. Just a thought." I said, brushing the topic off completely.

He hummed a response before he grew quiet for a long moment, chewing his bottom lip as he thought hard about something. I watched in amusement as he almost forgot I was standing right in front of him, witnessing him deep in his own little world.

"You still with me?" I finally spoke.

His eyes snapped back to me, "Uh yeah...sorry, darlin. Just thinkin."

"Care to share?" I asked.

He shook his head, "Nah, nothin important. M' gonna...talk to Rick figure out a gameplan bout those supplies."

I nodded, "Okay, love."

He glanced around quickly to see if anyone was watching us before kissing my cheek, turning to make his way towards Rick who was talking quietly to Gabriel further down towards the aisle. I watched for a moment as the three men were having a serious conversation, but then Daryl seemed to say something that made Gabriel look directly at me, and I turned my head away abruptly. 

That was awkward. 

With the silence consuming me once again, I decided to walk around the place a little more until I spotted Maggie and Glenn in the back, having a hushed discussion side by side. "Hey lovebirds." I greeted them.

They both looked up at me and smiled, "Hey," they said in unison.

"So," I started, taking a seat next to Maggie as they looked towards me expectantly, "What do you think about this whole saving the world bullshit?" I asked.

She looked confused, "What do you mean?"

Glenn chimed in from her left, "Ro doesn't think Eugene actually knows the cure."

"What makes you think that?" she asked.

I shrugged, "I don't know, he just doesn't seem very confident, and I can just feel his guilt from here. He just looks like he doesn't know shit, and now it's catching up to him."

They both looked at me with raised eyebrows, "Wow." Maggie muttered.

"It's just an observation, I obviously don't know for sure...but I guess we're going find out one way or another." I said as I gestured to the three now entering the building.

They both nodded in silent agreement as our eyes followed them for a moment, "Should we bet on it?" Glenn suggested, a mischievous smirk coming onto his face.

I blinked, "We don't have anything."

"Oh yeah." he muttered in slight defeat, placing his head in his hands as Maggie chuckled softly, rubbing his back in reassurance.

But before any of us could say anything else, Carol walked up hesitantly, "Sorry, I'm not interrupting anything am I?"

I shook my head, "Nope, just talking about how much of a big fat liar Eugene might be, what's up?"

She looked confused for a second before shaking her head a little at my humor, excitement suddenly filling her features, "I was just wondering if you would like to look for some water with me." she said as she looked directly at me.

"Oh sure, let me just tell Daryl where I'm going-"

"He already knows, Rick's sending out a few different groups to look for some things. Water, food, ammo, all that." she listed.

I furrowed my brows in confusion, "Oh...okay. Then let's go."

She smiled and gestured for me to get up with her hand. I went to grab my bow and arrows from where I left them by my backpack before heading to follow her out the front doors. Though I glanced over my shoulder one last time towards the group before actually leaving, a few people watching my movements as they waved goodbye with the same excitement that Carol seemed to carry.

Confusion crossed my face again, waving back to the rest of them awkwardly before I shut the giant door behind me with a slam. My frame turned back around slowly as I tired to figure out what the hell I missed, jogging a little to catch up with the woman who was already on the move.

"So, did you guys find some special brownies or something? What's up?" I asked in slight amusement.

She looked over with furrowed brows, "What do you mean?"

"Everyone just waved at me before I left like they were suddenly excited to be in God's house or something."

Her eyes flickered with a little bit of an oh shit emotion, but she quickly smiled to cover it up, "I wouldn't know anything about that. Probably just happy we're all together again." she said with a shrug.

I narrowed my eyes at her, "Yeah...probably."

Bullshit. This woman was hiding something. Maybe she was luring me out into the woods to kill me, but then again, I'm always paranoid about that sort of thing. I watched way too many crime shows before the world ended. 

After I eliminated the possibility of her trying to kill me, I dropped the topic completely. Whatever it was, I was either going to find out eventually or there truly wasn't anything suspicious to begin with. For now, we were just two lovely ladies getting some water for the rest of our group. Or at least that's what I assumed.

~ Thanks for reading!

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[blackbeeno3569]

Indulgences

"What are you doing?" 

Boogeyman's voice was full of unveiled suspicion. He stood in the doorframe, watching her moves with the inkling of some mischief. 

Hazel smiled, but didn't stop: "What does it look like, my love?" 

He reassessed his options: "Fine. Why?" 

She set the knife down: "Because I felt like it. Because I refuse to live solely on tea and biscuits."

"Works fine for me," Pitch raised an eyebrow. 

Hazel looked around the kitchen. The Lair's kitchens were vast spaces, ready to feed hundreds of hungry throats. So were the pantries. Everything was covered in centuries old dust and cobwebs, except for one small corner that was responsible for the said refreshment. Not that Pitch would ever touch the kettle or flour. He'd come up with a handy way to make the Lair's magic do that for him very, very long ago. 

It took Hazel a full afternoon to clean enough of the workspace to even be able to cook here.

 "I’ve noticed," she nodded and started to chop the onion again.

Pitch waited a moment, but she didn’t seem willing to add anything more, as if their short exchange explained it all. For a reason he wouldn’t be able to rationally explain, her silence and the calm, decisive clattering of her knife irritated him to no end. It was like a riddle without an answer.

Eventually he walked closer, taking a look over her shoulder. Their intended dinner was resting in a large bowl, just next to the bottle of white wine.

“Mussels? Where did you take those?”

“Your best friend is a Wassermann, remember?” Hazel’s smile widened, her glance half a joke, half a challenge he didn’t miss.

“Of a river.” It wasn’t even a counter-argument. Just like this wasn’t a quarrel. And yet he was arguing with her. Well, non-arguing.

“A river that flows to the sea,” she shrugged, unbothered by his tone, “and I’ll need wine.”

“You already have one.”

“That one,” she nodded towards the bottle, “will end up in the pot. A drinking one. A better one.”

Pitch glared at the bottle as if its existence here itself was offensive. “Isn’t it a waste, my dear?”

She put a pot on a stove, tossed a generous piece of butter inside and added all the onion. Then she turned to him and her eyes sparkled with barely suppressed chuckles: “Wouldn’t it be a waste to drink bad wine?”

Pitch opened his mouth - and closed it again. Arguing with Hazel wasn’t the easiest discipline when there was something to argue about. When there was nothing, it was usually easier to let her unravel whatever chaos she decided to bring into his life.

Like mussels, apparentely.

But she wasn’t about to get away with it completely for free. So he leaned closer, pointing out: “You know that even the biscuits are unnecessary. Neither of  us needs… any of this.”

“I know,” Hazel sighed dramatically, turning back to the sizzling pot  “but indulgences of the flesh, am I right? Not our first, not our last.” A beat of silence - and then she shot him a glare, free of that theatrical flair from before: “And the tea isn’t unnecessary?!”

Her frown met his sharp grin and a shrug: “Not something I would dare to experiment with.”

That earned him a small nod. The mussels were sent on their way after that with a tone too serious: “Tea is the gateway to dinner then.”

“Wise. What’s the dinner gateway to?”

She poured them the very pitiful rest of the wine and handed him a glass: “You tell me, being of the night. But first find us the new wine.”

[yril-writes]

— LOOK AT ME!

synopsis ; attention is what they want and they shall get, but sometimes it's just too much to handle that two man power can be so draining.

scenario ; you were on a date but you are busy with your phone not even hearing a word they are saying.

"How about you stop paying attention to that phone and look at me, it's like I've been talking to a brick wall."

"I'll break that phone of yours if you keep on looking at it. So, will you look at us now?"

type ; headcanon

include/s ; ryoumen sukuna, itadori yuuji, getou suguru, gojo satoru

pairing/s ; character/s x gn! reader

genre ; fluff, comedy, a mountain full of corn

SUKUNA x READER x YUUJI

Having dates is a thing whenever weekends come after a long hectic day from school work. But for you due to amount of stress you wanted to just be lost in your phone's feed.

Busy scrolling on your news feed, you couldn't hear a word from Sukuna or Yuuji. At first they didn't want to bother you but it didn't take long enough for Sukuna to immediately burst out.

"When are you going to stop looking at your phone?" he says in an annoyed tone and having his eyebrow twitch uncontrollably. He looked pissed and impatient, Yuuji on the other hand seems to be stressed out holding down Sukuna and his temper. "Well, I'll just keep on being busy here, you guys just chill or something." with a blunt tone, you push aside the fact that Sukuna just snapped. With that being blurted out from your mouth Sukuna snatches your phone and tucked it in his inner pocket. "This is a date! A proper one! You ain't getting your phone back!" just like a kid, Sukuna sulks and at the same time is irritated. Looking beside him, you persuade Yuuji to defend you only to see him trying to make a face you can't interpret, "Sukuna is right, this is a date. No phones for you." turns out the face he was making was his 'grumpy' face. Sighing, you finally surrendered and decided to go with the flow with this so-called date. "Fine, you better give my phone back!" you scowl at Sukuna who looks satisfied just now. "Nah, Yuuji and I have other plans with the phone if you don't cooperate. Keep that in mind."

SUGURU X READER X SATORU

This day was an unexpected one, since you didn't plan on going out but with these two together your day is sure to be a one heck of a day.

Even though they asked you out on a date, you just seemed to be glued on your phone non stop scrolling until they've had enough.

"Stop with your phone, the notification sound is ticking me off..." scrunching his eyebrows as he glances to your direction busy scrolling on your phone, Getou now sees that you are not even listening to a word he says. "(Y/N), you don't want you know who to be mad right? Stop looking at your phone for a second!" the whispers uttered by Gojo felt like he was screaming for help, lifting your head up, you see that one of them is angry and the other one is sweating buckets trying to calm the other one. "You guys bothered me enough, can I just do my thing and you guys carry on?" after uttering those words you turned back to your phone and ignored them both. Without even any warnings Gojo snatches your phone and passes it towards Getou. "You want your beloved phone back? Then pay attention." you can see it on his face how irritated he is and Gojo on the other hand is mouthing the words 'sorry' "Suguru, can I just have my phone back." you bluntly said it. "Oh, you'll get it. At the end of the date. Be a proper date and cooperate why don't you?" you let out a deep sigh and crossed your arms, giving a glare towards them both. "I hate you two. I just wanted to have my phone back that is why I am agreeing to this date you both forced me into." "FORCED? oh, we would never! Right, Satoru?" Getou then nudges Gojo, "YEAH! what are you talking about, forcing you on a date?!" Gojo then laughs it off. "I really hate both of you." pouting as you avoid their gazes you see in the window reflection Getou trying to dip your phone in the glass of water. "WAIT! OKAY FINE! LET'S HAVE A PROPER DATE! JUST DON'T DO THAT TO MY PHONE!" "Good! We are making progress!"

a/n ; still in the hospital! I really hope that I'm out of here, the smell of hospital really reels for me...

taglist ; @sammushy , @gcj-doesart, @ryuuudesuwa, @jasugoi

[randomperson99sworld]

Ruffled Feathers 🪶

~ Part 20 ~

Summary: Julia Morgan, Bobby's niece, has always been a royal thorn in Dean Winchesters ass since the day they met 1 year ago at Bobby's memorial. She wants to be a hunter, he thinks she's a dumb kid playing dress up. Will she always be seen as an unwanted load in Dean's eyes or will he see something more?

Paring: Dean x OC

Warnings: Age gap, language, sexual themes (used lightly), physical abuse (Not by Dean).

Word Count: 1,018

A/N: How are we liking the story so far? Stated as always, this story is cross posted on Wattpad. Happy reading! ♥️

The drive was long and quiet, the only sound being the rumble of the Impala's engine and the occasional rustling of a map in Julia's hands. Dean had been more silent than usual since Crowley filled them in about the First Blade. Apparently, some unmanned submarine had dredged it up from the bottom of the Marianas Trench, and it had passed through several hands since. Now, it was a matter of tracking down those hands. Sam had stayed back with Crowley to do the legwork, leaving Dean and Julia on a small case in a quiet town.

The case itself wasn't anything out of the ordinary—vampires. At least, that's what it seemed like from the reports. Cattle mutilations, missing persons, all pointing to a nest hiding somewhere on the outskirts of town.

But it wasn't the case that was bothering Dean. No, it was the Mark of Cain. He could feel it now, more than ever. There was a subtle pull under his skin, a low hum of power, like a dark whisper in the back of his mind. It wasn't strong yet, but it was there, lurking, waiting. And it was starting to affect him.

Julia, glancing at Dean every few minutes, finally broke the silence. "You alright, Dean? You've been kind of... distant."

Dean tightened his grip on the steering wheel, jaw clenched. "I'm fine."

"Uh-huh." Julia gave him a look, unconvinced. "Fine. Sure. Because you've been real chatty today."

Dean sighed, not really in the mood to explain the whole Mark situation, especially not when he didn't fully understand it himself. "It's just... this whole thing with the Mark. It's messing with my head. And I don't like it."

Julia's eyes softened, and she reached out, placing a hand gently on his arm. "We'll figure it out, Dean. I promise."

He glanced at her briefly, then back to the road. Her touch was warm, grounding him, but the thought of how much power the Mark held was enough to keep him on edge. He didn't want her involved in this part of his mess, especially not with how much the Mark was starting to tug at his darker impulses.

"Yeah, well," Dean muttered, "you should be more worried about these vamps than me right now."

Julia didn't say anything for a moment, but Dean could feel her concern lingering in the air between them. She didn't push, though, and for that, he was grateful.

The Impala finally rolled to a stop outside an old, dilapidated barn, overgrown with vines and shadowed by the dense forest behind it. The sun was setting, casting a dull orange glow across the landscape, but there was something eerie about the place. A perfect hideout for a vampire nest.

Dean killed the engine and stepped out, glancing around as Julia followed suit. He popped the trunk, grabbing a machete and tossing one to her.

"Ready?" he asked, his tone more clipped than usual.

Julia nodded, though she gave him another concerned glance. "Always."

They moved in sync, creeping toward the barn. The air was thick with tension, the kind that came before a fight. Dean's heart was pounding—not from fear, but from something deeper, darker. The Mark was buzzing under his skin, and as much as he tried to ignore it, he could feel the need for violence growing.

They reached the barn door, and Dean nodded to Julia before pushing it open. Inside, the air was musty, and the faint smell of blood lingered. His eyes adjusted to the dim light, and he spotted them—five vampires scattered around the room, two of them feeding on a terrified-looking girl chained to the wall.

Julia moved quickly, drawing the attention of one of the vamps, her machete slicing through the air. Dean followed, hacking down another vamp in a clean swing, but as the blade connected, he felt something... exhilarating. The Mark flared, sending a surge of energy through him, stronger than before.

Dean gritted his teeth as he continued the fight, each strike more aggressive than the last. He moved with a fury that was hard to contain, slicing through vampires like it was second nature. The more he fought, the more he wanted to keep going, to tear them apart with his bare hands.

Julia, meanwhile, was holding her own, but she glanced over at Dean, eyes widening at the way he was fighting. "Dean!" she shouted, ducking under a vampire's swing. "Dean, you good?"

Dean didn't respond, too lost in the rush of the fight. He decapitated another vamp with a swift, brutal strike, blood splattering across his face. The Mark pulsed again, and for a split second, he hesitated, feeling the bloodlust gnawing at him. It was almost intoxicating.

But Julia's voice cut through the haze. "Dean!"

He blinked, snapping back to reality just in time to see her struggling with the last vampire. She managed to pin it down, and with a grunt, she drove her machete into its neck, severing its head in one clean stroke. Breathing heavily, she stood up, wiping blood from her face.

Dean, still gripping his machete tightly, stared down at the carnage around him. His heart was still racing, but the fight was over. He wiped the blood off his face, trying to shake off the lingering effects of the Mark. Julia walked over, eyeing him cautiously.

"You sure you're alright?" she asked, helping the wounded girl stand, her voice quiet but steady.

Dean swallowed hard, his pulse still thrumming in his ears. "Yeah. Just... needed to get that out of my system."

Julia frowned but didn't press him. She seemed to sense that something wasn't right, but for now, she let it go. "Let's get this get this girl out of here, she's lost a lot of blood"

Dean nodded, but as they helped the girl back to the car, the weight of the Mark settled heavily on his shoulders. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep this under control. And the worst part? A small part of him didn't want to.

[etoilehistoire]

Midnight Conversation

(follows from First Feeding)

He should leave well enough alone. He knows it.

Things are, after all, good. The party trusts him, more or less. They see him as one of their own – not enough, perhaps, to have his back in a pinch, not enough to truly feel safe, but he can rely on them in battle. They’ll fight at his side and heal him when he’s hurt, and really, how much more can anyone realistically ask for?

And then there’s Xia, pretty little Xia who never offers her blood but never denies him when he asks for it, and who always seems to know when he needs it. After the first time, he’d waited as long as he could despite her warning, not wanting to face that too-knowing stare again, worried that his self-control would fail a second time. Until she’d taken to watching him across the campfire, a smirk playing over her lips, taunting him until he broke down and asked.

It went well. As it did the third time, and the fourth. His embarrassing loss of control hadn’t repeated, and they’d fallen into a comfortable pattern.

There’s no use disturbing it.

And yet it worries at him, like an itch he knows he shouldn’t scratch. He mulls it over as they sit around the fire and laugh at the latest attempts at cooking, as they each take turns singing in the cool night air.

Xia sings last, the pretty paladin’s voice surprisingly sweet. He waits until the others go to bed; through luck or through some ability to read him that he wishes she lacked, she stays up, strumming the battered old lute idly as they watch the last of the flames die down.

It would be nice if she’d say something. “Out with it,” maybe, or “I can tell you’ve got something on your mind – talk to me.” But Xia can wield silence like a weapon. She’ll wait, and continue to wait, and if he chickens out and says nothing she'll wait even longer, and he’ll know that she knows that he chickened out.

Fine. He moves closer, sits next to her. Waits to gather his thoughts. Then, with no preamble: “How would you know?”

She glances over, still picking through random chords. “Hmm?”

“You said.” He stares into the fire. “That first night. You said you could kill me if it were necessary, but that you didn’t know if it was necessary. Yet.” He swallows, not looking at her. “How would you know it was necessary?”

He can feel her stare now. “You’re asking me what would make me kill you.”

“I think it’s a valid question.”

She takes a deep breath. He waits, still not looking at her, but listening. Oh, he’s listening.

“If you were a threat to the rest of us,” she says slowly, after a long pause. “A threat that couldn’t be resolved any other way. If we couldn’t restrain you, couldn’t reason with you, couldn’t help you. If you were too far gone and there was no bringing you back. Then, yes. I could kill you. And I would. As I would for anyone else here.”

She takes a deep breath. “I would make it fast,” she says softly, and even though he’s not looking directly at her he can tell she’s also staring into the fire now. “Fast and clean. I wouldn’t make you suffer. And I would bury you properly, after. I would mourn you.”

Bizarrely, this makes his throat tighten. It’s… unexpected. He’d always figured when he died, it would be in a dingy dungeon somewhere, or perhaps on the side of the road, his body left for particularly unpicky crows. To hear that anyone, even his would-be murderer, would mourn him when he’s gone… well. It’s unexpected, that’s all.

Equally unexpected is the hand that slips into his. “It’s a pretty big ‘if,’” she says softly, and squeezes his hand. “I don’t expect it to come up.”

If asked (and if he were inclined to be truthful), he would have said that the pretty little paladin barely tolerates him, that she sees him as, at best, a necessary inconvenience. He would have said that he sees her as a meal ticket – quite literally, in fact – and a strong body to stand between him and his enemies, nothing more. Yet as they sit, hand in hand, watching the last of the flames die down, she makes no move to take her hand back and neither does he. And if either of them are manipulating the other, he genuinely can’t tell.

[anonymousewrites]

Clan of Three (Book 1) Chapter Thirteen

Father Figure! Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Teen! Reader

Chapter Thirteen: The Bait

Summary: Greef Karga makes a good decision for once, but things still don't go to plan as Imperial remnants take over Nevarro.

            The Razorcrest touched down on the outskirts of Nevarro. Near them waited Greef Karga and a gaggle of Guild hunters. Karga approached as the hull door opened, watching for any sign of attack. This was an extremely tentative alliance until each party proved they were not out to harm the other (Mando was a man of his word, but Karga was still wary).

            The three blurrgs descended from the ship. Kuiil sat aboard one, Cara on another, and (Y/N) rode behind Mando. The new egg-shaped cradle for the Child floated beside Mando’s burrg.

            “Sorry for the remote rendezvous, Mando,” said Karga. “But things have gotten complicated since you were last here.” He glanced at the new faces. “It seems introductions are in order. It seems we’ve both provided a security detail. I recommend the Shock Trooper guards the ship. These lava fields are lousy with jawas.”

            “She’s coming with me,” said Mando evenly.

            “But the town is now run by ex-Empire,” said Karga. “If a Rebel Dropper is with us, they’ll all get their hackles up.”

            “She’s coming,” said Mando. It wasn’t up for discussion.

            “Fine,” said Karga shortly. He held his hands up. “Fine.” He pointed at Cara. “At least cover your tattoo. No need to flaunt it.” He smiled. “Now, where are the little ones.”

            (Y/N) leaned out from behind Mando, and the cradle floated forward and opened long enough for Karga to get a look at the Child.

            “So, these are who all the fuss is about,” said Karga musingly. “What cute kids. I can see why you don’t want them hurt.”

            The baby is cute, but (Y/N)? Mando considered the usual anger they displayed and the constant need to fight everyone they encountered. Not how I would describe them.

            “Well, I’m glad this matter will be put to rest once and for all,” said Karga. “The sun drops fast on Nevarro. We can walk out for a spell, camp out at the riverbank, then make our way into town at first light.”

            Mando nodded. That was all the acknowledgement he would give.

            The bounty hunters and the group on the blurrgs set out across the lava plains, walking in slow silence as the sun descended on the horizon. They only stopped when it was too dark to continue and an adequate campsite could be made. And even then they worked in silence, setting up a fire and cooking the food scraps they brought with them. Nobody trusted the others enough to speak.

            Karga glanced at where Kuiil was feeding bits of meat to the Child. “I guess the little bugger’s a carnivore.” He looked at (Y/N). “What about you?”

            “I don’t think my diet matters,” said (Y/N), narrowing their eyes and looking Karga up and down. Until they had proof he wouldn’t betray them, they wouldn’t trust them.

            “They were ready to pay a king’s ransom for you two,” said Karga. “Who knows, maybe for some highfalutin menagerie.”

            No, they wanted to do experiments on us, thought (Y/N), shifting at the memory.

            “Let’s go over the plan again,” said Mando, changing the subject as he noticed (Y/N)’s discomfort.

            “We both enter the common house,” said Karga. “We show the Client the bait. We join him at the table. And you kill him.”

            “Tell me about his reinforcements,” said Mando.

            “They’re all ex-Empire,” said Karga. “As soon as they lose their paycheck, poof, they’ll all scatter.”

            “What if they don’t?” asked (Y/N).

            “They will,” said Karga assuredly. “If, for argument’s sake, a few of them don’t realize that I’m their best path to alternative employment, and they elect to react impulsively…Well, then these three fine Guild Hunters, along with that battle-hardened Shock Trooper, will cut down anyone who bucks.”

            “How many will there be?” asked Mando.

            “No more than four,” said Karga. “He travels with, at most, a Fire Team. Trust me.” He stood and began turning the spit. “Nothing can go wrong.”

            Something did go wrong at that moment. A large creature swooped down and snatched the piece of meat from Karga’s hands. The hunters, Mando, and Cara reacted instantly. They shot up at the creature, and (Y/N) pulled the Child closer to them and shut his cradle before shooting at the carnivorous creature. Unfortunately, in the darkness, it evaded their fire and swooped down to steal a blurrg. The poor blurrg was lifted into the air and stolen away. The hunters kept shooting, but a second creature emerged from the darkness again and stole another blurrg.

            Finally, Cara’s shot hit the creature, and it screeched, turning on the group. Mando fired at it, and it tackled him, trying to claw at him through his armor. (Y/N) ran forward, approaching it and the fire to see it more clearly. They aimed and fired, and the monster screeched again, letting go of Mando and turning on (Y/N). Mando took his chance and activated his flamethrower. The creature’s tail caught on fire, and it screeched, finally retreating at the knowledge that it couldn’t avoid further injury. Its partner followed, and they disappeared into the darkness.

            (Y/N) opened the Child’s cradle He cooed at them, perfectly safe and unharmed.

            “Are you two alright?” asked Mando, still covering them in case the creatures came back.

            “We’re fine.” They looked at Karga, who was groaning and holding his arm as it bled. “He’s not, though.”

            “He’s hurt badly,” said Kuiil, assessing the damage.

            “I’m fine. I’m fine,” argued Karga, but he was clearly grimacing against the pain.

            Mando and Cara approached with the little bottles of bacta they had, but it wouldn’t be enough to heal him as it looked like poison was spreading.

            The Child cooed and reached out to (Y/N). They looked down at him, and they felt like they understood him. (Y/N) lifted him out of the cradle and let him waddle towards the group around Karga. When he paused and looked back, (Y/N) understood he wanted them to follow.

            It was strange to be following a baby’s lead, but he was fifty. Perhaps he understood more about the world that it first seemed. (Y/N) definitely thought he understood their shared abilities more than they themself did.

            Mando was confused when (Y/N) and the Child passed him and crouched by Karga. The Child reached out, and (Y/N) copied his movements. A moment passed as the two focused. And then Karga’s skin began knitting itself back together. The wounds closed up, and the poison receded. The pain lifted. Karga was healed.

            The Child sat down tiredly, and (Y/N) drew their hand back, glancing down nervously. They were aware all eyes were on them, and the others’ gazes felt like flames on their skin.

            The rest of the night passed in a heavy silence.

l

            Karga and his hunters walked a few steps ahead of (Y/N)’s group as they headed to Nevarro under the morning sun. Karga spoke quietly with his men, and Cara, Mando, and (Y/N) couldn’t hear him.

            “You think they’re having second thoughts?” murmured Cara.

            “Could be,” said Mando. “I need your eyes.”

            “We’re watching,” said (Y/N).

            They arrived at the ridge of a small rocky hill. Below them in the near distance lay Nevarro. Karga stopped, and the people walking behind him caught up.

            “I guess this is it,” said Karga.

            Behind them, (Y/N) heard a slight movement, and they felt the two hunters behind them (How did they feel it? Don’t ask them, they didn’t understood) approaching. Karga whirled on them and shot them down instantly. Mando, (Y/N), and Cara drew their blasters, and Karga raised his hands.

            “There’s something you should know,” said Karga. He walked forward and holstered his blasters. Mando, (Y/N), and Cara kept their blasters aimed at him. Karga kicked the hunters’ bodies over. “The plan was to kill you and take the kids. But after what happened last night, I couldn’t go through with it.” Seeing no change in their expressions, he raised his arms. “Go on. You can gun me down here and now, and it wouldn’t violate the Code. But if you do, those kids will never be safe.”

            Mando looked over at (Y/N) standing with their blaster raised, fiercely guarding the Child, who looked at him in confused apprehension.

            “We’ll take our chances,” snapped Cara.

            “The imperial Client is obsessed with obtaining these assets,” said Karga. He looked at Mando. “You tried to run, but where did it get you?”

            (Y/N) narrowed their eyes. They didn’t feel like Karga was lying, but they weren’t sure if it would be smart to still go along with this plan. They wanted the Client to stop hunting them, but knowing anyone could turn on them did make it riskier.

            “This is ridiculous,” said Cara.

            “Perhaps you should let him speak,” said Kuiil.

            “Listen, we all need the Client eliminated,” said Karga. “Let me take the children to him, and then you and Cara—”

            “No,” interrupted Mando sharply.

            “Let’s just kill him and get outta here,” said Cara.

            “What if the Child wasn’t actually…in the cradle?” asked (Y/N) suddenly. All heads turned to them, and Mando slowly lowered his blaster. (Y/N) took the opportunity and continued. “Kuiil can keep him out here. As long as Mando kills the Client before he manages to realize the kid isn’t here, then we’re good.”

            “You’d still be there,” said Mando.

            (Y/N) nodded. “To be bait, yeah. But if it came to a fight, face it, I have a better chance than the kid. It’s not ideal, but we need to get rid of the Client. His hunters will just keep catching up to us.”

            Mando finally holstered his weapon. “They’re right,” he said to the others. “The Client will keep sending imps.”

            “It’s a trap,” argued Cara.

            “Take me, too,” said Mando.

            “Take you?” asked Karga.

            “You can tell him you captured me. Get me close to him, and I’ll kill him,” said Mando.

            “That’s a good idea. Give me your blaster,” said Karga. Mando handed it over without argument and nodded at (Y/N) to do the same.

            “This is insane,” said Cara.

            “It’s the only way,” said Mando.

            “Well, I’m coming with you,” decided Cara.

            “No, no, no. That would make them suspicious,” countered Karga.

            “I don’t care. I’m coming,” reiterated Cara fiercely.

            “Tell them she caught me,” said Mando.

            “Fine. Then she can bring the cradle and the Ushti,” said Karga.

            “My name is (Y/N),” they said, crossing their arms.

            “Kuiil, ride back to the Razorcrest with the Child and seal yourself in,” instructed Mando. “When you’re inside, engage ground security protocols. Nothing on this planet will breach those doors.”

            Kuiil nodded and handed Mando a small device. “Here’s a commlink. I will keep the Child safe.” He turned to Cara. “Don’t forget to cover your stripes.” He picked up the Child and headed to his remaining blurrg.

            “Let’s go,” said Mando. He pulled two pairs of handcuffs from his belt. He snapped the first pair onto (Y/N)’s wrists and let Karga put the other on him. It was time.

l

            (Y/N) walked beside Mando as Cara and Karga flanked them. Stormtroopers with speeders stood at the entrance of Nevarro while other stormtroopers patrolled the streets within. The troopers guarding the entrance stood from where they leaned against stones.

            “Chain code?” questioned one guard.

            “I have a gift for the boss,” said Karga casually.

            “Chain code?” repeated the guard coldly.

            Karga sighed and held up his chain code. The guard scanned it and spoke, “I’ll give you twenty credits for the helmet.”

            Karga glanced at Mando. “Haha! Not a chance. That thing’s going on my wall.”

            “On your wall?” murmured Mando questioningly.

            “Go with it,” whispered Karga. He was trying to keep up appearances.

            The stormtrooper handed back Karga’s chain code. “Go ahead.”

            Karga held Mando’s arm and pushed him into Nevarro. Cara and (Y/N) followed beside them. The patrols of troopers watched them as they walked through the streets.

            “I thought you said four,” muttered (Y/N). “This is not four.”

            “Four guarding the Client. Many more here in town,” clarified Karga unhelpfully. “Things got really heated once Mando smashed the safehouse.”

            “Slip him his blaster,” murmured Cara.

            “Not yet,” responded Karga.

            Mando looked down at (Y/N) as they continued on. The Child wasn’t there, but they were, and that meant they would be in the line of fire. Mando would have to be careful to ensure they survived.

            Finally, they arrived at the common house. The door slid open and they stepped inside. (Y/N) felt their throat close up as they saw the Client rise from his seat in a corner booth of the bar. It was silent as the group approached and the four stormtroopers watched them carefully.

            “Look at what I brought you,” said Karga jovially. “As promised.”

            “What exquisite craftmanship,” observed the Client, reached up to touch Mando’s beskar armor, well aware of where Mando had gotten the materials. “It is amazing how beautiful beskar can be when forged by its ancestral artisans.”

            He’s speaking as if he respects culture. He didn’t care when Mandalore was destroyed, and he doesn’t care that Ushti is pillaged, thought (Y/N) angrily.

            When Mando didn’t respond, the Client turned towards (Y/N). He smiled, and (Y/N) fought back a shiver by focusing on their unadulterated anger. “Ah, the Ushi returned. Dr. Pershing looks forward to working with you again.”

            (Y/N) glared at him and imagined stabbing him with their dagger.

            The Client turned to Karga. “Can I offer you a libation to celebrate the closing of our shared narrative?”

            “I would be obliged,” said Karga.

            The Client gestured to the barkeeper droid, and it beeped and began preparing drinks. “Please sit.” (Y/N), Mando, and Karga sat down as the Client continued and addressed Mando. “It is a shame your people have suffered so. Just as in this situation, it was all avoidable.” More stormtroopers entered the bar. They were greatly outnumbered. “Why did Mandalore resist our expansion? Why did Ushti? Why does it continue to? The Empire improves every system it touches. Judge by any metric. Safety, prosperity, trade, opportunity, peace.”

            Lies, lies, lies, come to Ushti and see what the Empire has attempted to do with what remains of my planet, thought (Y/N), curling their hands into fists.

            “Compare imperial rule to what is happening now,” continued the Client. “Look outside. Is the world more peaceful since the revolution? I see nothing but death and chaos.” He grew businesslike. “I have seen the Ushti. I would like to see the baby.” He reached for the cradle, and Karga blocked him.

            He coughed awkwardly. “It is asleep,” said Karga.

            “We all will be quiet,” assured the Client. “Open the pram.”

            (Y/N) furrowed their brow in worry, but before the Client opened the cradle, a stormtrooper arrived and delivered a quiet message to the Client.

            He cleared his throat and stood. “Don’t think me to be rude. I must take this call.” He walked over to the bar where the stormtroopers were setting up a holocall.

            In the booth, Mando and (Y/N) slipped from their cuffs. They had been put on with the express purpose of letting them escape.

            “Give us our blasters,” murmured Mando.

            “You get one shot, Mando,” warned Karga quietly, passing the blasters over to (Y/N) and Mando. The Mandalorian was prepared to kill, and (Y/N) was ready to defend themself if the stormtroopers tried anything.

            “This is bad. You said four,” whispered Cara urgently.

            “Well, there are more. What can I tell you?” said Karga.

            At the bar, the Client connected to the holocall  A man in dark armor appeared in the hologram. “Yes, Moff?” asked the Client.

            “Have they brought the children?” said the Moff.

            (Y/N)’s blood ran cold. If this “Moff” was more in charge of the Client, that meant he was very important in the Empire, even the remnants of it. It meant he was dangerous. And it meant there was someone above the Client looking for (Y/N) and the Child.

            Will today not be the end, then? Is the Empire going to keep coming? thought (Y/N) worriedly.

            “Yes, they have. The Ushti sits behind me, and the other is sleeping,” said the Client.

            “You may want to check the Child again,” said the Moff.

            The Client froze and looked over his shoulder.

            Bzzt!

            The Client fell, shot through the chest by a blaster shot from outside the bar. More shots rained in, taking out some stormtroopers. Someone else was attacking from outside.

           As the blaster shots fired into the bar rapidly and the Client’ s body fell, Cara and Karga ducked down, and Mando covered (Y/N) as they scrambled to get down. The four watched as the droid and all the rest of the Client’s armed guard were killed by blaster fire. The hologram of Gideon just smirked in satisfaction before switching off the holocall.

            Finally, silence descended. The droid and the bodies of the stormtroopers lay on the ground of the bar. Shattered glass from the bar window lay around them, glinting slightly in the sunlight like wicked teeth.

            Mando nodded to Karga and Cara. The pair of them got up and moved to one side of the bar window while Mando covered (Y/N) and brought them to the other. They each peered out carefully.

            Several stormtroopers in completely black armor held large flamethrowers in their hands. Behind them arrived an imperial land transporter, and a squadron of stormtroopers in gleaming white armor poured out. Unlike the Client’s guards, these men were organized and clean, not dirty and rough.

            “Four stormtroopers?” snapped Cara. “This is bad.”

            “That is a whole squadron,” said (Y/N).

            Mando lifted the commlink. “Kuiil? Are you back on the ship yet? Are you there? Do you copy?”

            “Yes!” replied Kuiil.

            “Are you back to the ship yet?” asked Mando.

            “Not yet,” replied Kuiil.

            “Get back to the ship and bail. Get the kid out of here. We’re pinned down,” said Mando. He put the commlink away and looked down at (Y/N) beside him. He had to get them out of there. “I’ve got you, kid.”

            (Y/N) looked at him hopefully. They felt like he meant his words, but they still clutched their blaster tighter as they saw a tie-fighter land in the town square.

            The entry hatch opened, and the  Moff from the holocall exited. He strolled through the stormtrooper squadron, his black cape swirling behind him.

            “You have some items I want,” he announced to the group within the bar.

            “Who’s this guy?” asked Cara.

            “The guy the Client was talking to,” murmured (Y/N), narrowing their eyes.

            “You may think you have some idea of what you are in possession of, but you do not,” continued the Moff.

            Me and the kid aren’t possessions! thought (Y/N) viciously.

            “Kuiil, are you back to the ship yet? They’re onto us,” said Mando urgently. No answer. “Kuiil, come in!”

            “In a few moments, the assets will be mine,” said the Modf.

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened. They looked at Mando. He’s going to kill Mando…!

            “Kuiil! Do you copy?” demanded Mando. “Kuiil!”

            “They mean more to me than you will ever now,” said the Moff cooly.

            “Kuiil, are you there?” questioned Mando. “Come in, Kuiil. Kuiil? Kuiil?”

            “Mando…” said (Y/N) quietly. “He’s gone.” They could feel it in their blood. Kuiil was gone. The Moff’s men had the Child. And he had (Y/N) trapped.

Taglist:

@im-making-an-effort

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@dmitrytherat

@dilfsaremyfavourite

[shadowuserannie]

Charge of Lightning, Beware The Earths?

“I’m here for Kaminari Denki.”

It was the first-ever time she was saying it to a hospital receptionist. Kyoka prayed it would be the last, but she’d known Denki long enough by now to know better. Seriously, why didn’t godly blood come with better luck?

The receptionist’s lips thinned. “No visitors-”

“I’m on the approved list. Jiro Kyoka.”

The receptionist’s eyes narrow, and they reach for what is likely to be the list of approved, with photos attached. Kyoka hopes she’s on there-it’d be embarrassing and kind of sad if she wasn’t. She’s pretty sure Denki trusts her a fair amount, but one can never know.

“Room 51B. Private.”

Kyoka nods in thanks, takes the pass, and makes for the elevator, wincing when she glances out a window and is met with the crowd she fought through-and that was with the entourage of security guards Denki’s mother-because it was just weird to call her Seiteki-provided. The signs make her heart seize further and hope that someone had the good sense to close Denki’s window curtains.

She almost seems to blink and reach Denki’s door. Hand poised over it to knock, Kyoka wonders if he already knows it’s her. She’d helped him to perfect the sensory techniques he’d developed, yes, but after what happened…

Kyoka knocks.

“Come in.”

Denki isn’t looking at her when she enters.

It’s…jarring, to see him wrapped in bandages, but Kyoka wouldn’t call the scene wrong. Just…worrying. Because that stupid, beautiful, selfless idiot had up and gone and scared the life out of her, almost down to an Underworld she hadn’t known existed until last year.

It reminded her that no matter how unproportional the golden blood in him to red was, there was red all the same.

“Has anyone else visited you?”

She doesn’t need to see Denki’s face to know the expression he’s making. Lips deceptively thinned into a calm but neutral line, back straightened. The carefully curated presentation every time she has to watch and stand by as a reporter asks him a question they shouldn’t.

“Yeah. Mom and Mei. What took you so long?”

He didn’t ask about Shinso.

Kyoka deciphers that to mean he already knows.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve come sooner.”

“It’s fine.” Denki draws further into himself, staring at the frustratingly sunny-yellow curtains, still facing away from Kyoka.

The bed creaks as Kyoka sits on it, right next to him.

She waits.

“When I was a baby,” Denki begins haltingly, “Hera tried to kill me.”

Kyoka should be surprised. She isn’t.

“Aphrodite saved me, but she did it using a blessing. Basically, it’s a judge of my character. If I’m selfless, and kind, and good, and the Olympians’ perfect sacrifice…”

Kyoka places a hand between his shoulder blades, rubbing between them. His shoulders relax just a fraction, and his voice doesn’t quite grow more fragile as it does more vulnerable.

“…then I look beautiful. Everyone turns their heads. It even feeds into my self-healing aspect-the blessing helps fix me, because I have to look as good on the outside as I am on the inside. It even turned my eyes gold, which is why Hera decided not to kill me in the end-because the Prophecy of Two Worlds stated explicitly the candidate had to have golden eyes.”

Her blood runs cold.

Dressed in a bloodied UA uniform, the ugliest person she has ever seen cackles like teeth scraping along metal. Face made of sagged, wrinkly skin and scars and boils and welts belie a young, teenage body, electric blue eyes like two off-putting coloured flashlights.

“So the guy you fought…”

“Venti,” Denki supplies, “is the villain alternate dimension version of me who diverged from a single point; whether I knew about Aphrodite’s Blessing from the beginning.”

“You didn’t?”

“No. Venti told me.” Denki’s shoulders sag, and he finally turns to face her.

Rocks and fire are picked up by the wind, swirling into the tempest. It lights brilliant blue, and Kyoka screams when she watches it catch on Denki still raging in its epicenter.

(@oopsies-i-did-a-thing it may take a while to get to the rest, but I will!)