#because i don't want people to come into my house

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Just your average male living space.

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[stevishabitat]

👆👆👆

So real. My kiddo and I have been dealing with food insecurity for years and as much as I try to insulate kiddo from it, unfortunately there's only so much you can do when you're living in the poor part of town and everyone is on the edge of food and housing disaster.

That gut-level fear of will we have enough food, and trying to make preferred foods last until the next paycheck or grocery day, and having to prioritise cheap calories over enjoyable foods and relying on boring donated foods more often than we'd like.

I know it affects me a lot. I prioritise kiddo having preferred foods, easy-to-prepare foods, convenience foods, snacks to share with friends, etc. So a lot of the time when my executive function is bad, when my chronic pain is kicking my ass, when work has drained my energy, there's not much I want to eat or have energy to fix for myself. So some days it's easier for me to just not eat (which doesn't help with the brain fog, depression, or migraines either).

And I hope kiddo doesn't notice. And I hope my efforts since they were small to give them unrestricted access and several choices most of the time, and coaching them on interoception, intuitive eating, and listening to your body... I hope all of that is helping and that kiddo doesn't feel deprivation or anxiety about food.

But damn the guilt of raising a child in poverty is one of the worst parts of being poor. People are always going "kids don't need a lot of stuff to be happy" but they don't realise how much it wears on you to constantly go without.

And of course small joys are awesome! But when you're always on that knife's edge, the small joys sometimes come with the side effect of "enjoy it while you can because tomorrow might be really hard".

"Oh so we should just eat anything we want??"

Well actually YES but also:

Restricting food Does Stuff To Your Brain. "Restricting" doesn't mean stopping when you're full. I feel like this is what gets misunderstood a lot. It means placing rules and limits on food that supercede what your body is signalling that it wants. Let's use cookies as an example. Restricting would be:

- I can only have cookies when I deserve them.

- I can only have cookies when I'm alone.

- I can only have two cookies.

- I can only have low-calorie cookies.

- I can only have cookies on set days, or so-called cheat days.

- I can't have cookies.

- I can't have cookies in the house.

- I'm bad when I eat cookies.

- Cookies are a bad food and I must compensate for having eaten them.

Whether or not you stick to the restrictions you set, your brain is learning to be an anxious mess around cookies. It might want to avoid anywhere that has cookies. It might feel shame for wanting or eating cookies. It might get exhausted from suppressing the craving and decide to binge. It might go into binge mode every time you eat cookies because you've taught your body that This Will Not Be Available Whenever. It might feel ridiculously important to eat all the cookies while you can.

I know we're all so used to constantly talking about food, diets, weight and bodies, and it's completely normalised to look at absolutely everything you eat and assign it the level of guilt you're gonna feel for eating it, and to brag about not eating this and that, and to announce that you know it's a Naughty Indulgence when you eat anything sweet.

But oh my god, it's such a huge weight off your shoulders to just let yourself eat cookies because you wanted cookies and stop when you feel satiated and know that the cookies will be available next time you want cookies because you don't need to earn them in any way. Because a brain that knows it can have cookies whenever it wants cookies, doesn't crave cookies all the time. Nor does it feel any self-loathing when it does crave cookies.

And I just wish everyone a very chill brain and some cookies

[sasahuaa]

Vil Schoenheit as an omega

Riddle - Leona - Azul - Kalim - Idia - Malleus

hello! i finally recovered from my sickness!! and finally finished this, changed subspace to omeganspace bc i didn’t think the previous word had the meaning that i wanted, i wrote a very soft!vil, but i hope you enjoy it!

gn!reader; sfw; warnings: none

Vil is a very desired omega, from men to women, young to old, alphas, betas and omegas utter his name with countless praises. Though he is popular and has many types of people offering their suits to him, he hardly gives them a second thought.

He is too busy with work! He justifies with the partial truth. Vil is somewhat flattered by the confessions, but subtly scrunches his nose when he feels their intentions aren't heartfelt and merely wanting him for his appearance or fame - which, in his opinion, is very common, he is alright if people think of him nicely, but he can count on his fingers who really know him.

It's also a matter of his standards; an mate with great virtue, objective driven, earnest and passionate is hard to find. But he won't ever settle for less, Vil may not have personally seen amazing relationships, yet he understands what people are capable of doing for their loved ones.

His papa works very hard and is still doting towards him, during his breaks, sometimes he reads words of support his fans write for him and he admires the thoughtful gifts he receives during fan meetings.

It's not romantic love, but still is some type of love, if only he could meet his knight in shining armor to show him what passion is like…

Courting

Vil felt he developed a kind of kinship with everyone involved in SDC, not only because everyone was focused on the same objective, but also as a senior and housewarden, he charged himself to guide the entire group to the standards he expected of them. Vil knows potential when he sees one, so he has good intentions when he pushes their limits, though many misinterpret his determination to contempt.

This kinship towards you shook from time to time, he respected how you managed the rest of the boys and your words of support were great incentives to them, you were also generous and elegant, his eyes couldn't help but linger on your form as you helped around the house and during practices, the omega admitted to himself that you were a hard worker and admirable for that.

You sure had many qualities that he approved of, but what truly moved his heart was how heroic you could be, of course he heard of you dealing with overblots before, but you coming to rescue him alongside Rook and Epel was the cherry on top for him.

Vil is not one for romance, he does not open himself up easily, much less give opportunities to others, and yet he became quite infatuated with you. He made an exception out of you, and while he never chased for a relationship before, Vil was committed to be with you.

You miss all the shots you don't take, and he lived by this motto his whole life.

This dorm leader is not ashamed to be the one to pursue, though he would also enjoy being equally pursued. It's a matter of equilibrium for him, as such, he tries to nudge for both. Vil is open about his interest, but he hopes that you would be the one to seal the deal.

And what other better way to have your attention than to use his main prize? Vil knows he is an undisputable beauty, and is not ashamed to flaunt that. He begins to wear your favorite colors, his lips are more glossy, his hair up so he can show off his neck, and when he is in the mood to be a bit more daring, he wears dresses, skirts or mini shorts and puts his long legs to use.

“What do you think?” the omega asked, twirling around himself, the dress fluttering and revealing more of his skin “I made a haul recently, if you come to my room, I can model all of my new clothes just for you”

Clothes don't have gender, he thought so since forever, if it's pretty on him then it's more than fair that he will use it. Bonus points if he can make you gawk while embellishing himself.

He loves to see you flustered, might even be his favorite hobby.

Vil also gives you a lot of things, he says he is not spoiling you, that it's because you did something that made you deserve it, though his standards for this in particular are very low. You eating healthy is already an excuse for him to give you something, be it soaps, clothes, trinkets, homemade smoothies, and mostly items from sponsorships that he does not see a use for himself. Between the gifts, there's a lot of diy stuff, but in this case he likes to do it with you. The omega would invite you to come over and make subtle matches of necklaces and bracelets.

And dates! At first he doesn't call it dates, but his intentions are obvious at what he calls “one on one meetings in which we get to know each other more intimately”. Pomefiore is decorated from top to bottom when he decides it's a good day for a date, candle light dinners and fancy food are perfectly prepared for the night, picnic dates always have the most variety of food and the gardens are trimmed to magnificence. Maybe all of this is corny, and yet he wants to enjoy all the kinds of cliches possible.

Vil knows that people like to talk about their hobbies or preferred topics, and he has dealt countless times with alphas in the past that didn't know how to shut up. Although the dorm leader really hates when people talk over him, he finds it adorable when you get excited over a thing you are passionate about, you could be talking about the cycle of life of beetles and he would stop anything he is doing to listen.

Even when it's a subject he is connoisseur of, Vil's answers keep being “Oh yeah? Tell me more”, it's not like he will pretend he doesn't know about the topic, if you have any questions he will answer, but he won't ever interrupt and will encourage you to talk to him. It very much warms his heart when you are being zealous and intense around him.

All of that just to make you fall in love with him.

He wants so bad to hear you preaching for his name.

And he hopes that one day you will talk about him as ardently as your most dearly passions.

Growling

Self-control is a sacred behavior that everyone should learn, that's what Vil believes and expects from his dorm mates. Growling, in Vil's point of view, is an animalistic form of expression, impolite even when justifiable, and as someone who prizes his own dignity he learned from a very young age to suppress his growls. Nowadays, he barely feels the need to do so, and doubts he ever will when he is in the right state of mind.

Vil scolds his underclassmen if he hears them growling, Epel could tell, as he is a frequent victim of his stern gaze. Pomefiore learned quickly to avoid Vil if they need to put out their frustrations, though very unsuccessfully most of the time, as hardly ever anything escapes the loyal hunter by Vil's side.

If he is not in his right state of mind… it's rare for things like this to happen, but if he is close to his heat and he is not using suppressants to control his hormones, you would be able to hear an almost inaudible growl when Vil reads a proposal to act in another villain role, or when Neige gets more attention than him in an add or post. It's a self-deprecation most of the times, that he deserves better, that he can be better, he will seek to be under your care when this happens, but after he turns back to normal he sees it as another obstacle he needs to surpass.

Purring

Vil is not as against purring as he is about growling, although both are expressions of intense emotion, he sees more use in purring than growling. It’s just that he doesn’t see the reason in growling and expressing his anger, disappointment and upset in a verbal and yet uncommunicative way, it’s stressing to both him and whoever hears it in his opinion. But purring is different, it brings healthy benefits for himself, his alpha and, if he ever has one, future pups.

He also knows that some celebrities use their purr as a form of attracting fans, but he is not comfortable sharing it for the world, seven knows what weirdos would be doing with this kind of audio. Vil does have exceptions though, sometimes, when little pups get lost in events he is part of, he will purr away their frustrations until their guardians find them, but he makes sure that there are no cameras or audio recorders close by.

When he is with you, if you are being especially nice he will reward you with purrs, a good job deserves a exquisite prize after all. But honestly, his concept of “being nice” for him is really simple, taking care of yourself? Purr. Going out of your way to please him? Purr. Finishing your assignments so you have more time for him? Epel got jumpscared by the loud sound.

Nesting

Vil maintains a very neat nest, he changes the blankets, sheets and pillowcases each three days, he color codes and also separates by texture. Anytime he uses his nest he tidies it before he leaves, just like his appearance, not a single rumple is supposed to be seen in his safe haven.

As for the people he permits to go in it, not a single person besides himself and his mate are even allowed to see his nest. It's a very intimate endeavor for him, he can understand that some omegas are more catering towards pups and such, like Kalim and his communal nest, but he simply can't fathom the thought of also doing so.

It's not like anyone else was worthy enough anyway.

Months go by into your relationship before he invites you to his nest, he wants to make sure you are the right person before he does. Though he much prefers doing his daily skincare routine on his vanity, he also adores to make you sit on his nest, pull you to him until your back hits his chest and apply creams to your face, sometimes just sweep the brush on your face without any product, a gentle and slow movement in caress while he kisses softly the top of your head.

In all, he doesn't spend too much time in his nest, he chooses to do so when he feels particularly vulnerable or wants a deeply romantic time.

Marking

Vil likes to take one step at a time, because of that, it would take a while for him to properly mark you. He sees it as a matter of protection and privacy, it's not a secret that fans can be quite overprotective over their idols, and he fears that you would be an easy target, being someone from another world and, therefore, vulnerable.

At first, he would make essential oils, lotions and perfumes of his scent and gift to you, it's a disguisable form of marking and can be deferred as simply your choice of favorite smell and barely conclude that it's related to him, as these kinds of aromas have a superficial fragrance. It's enough for Vil though, at least in that moment of your relationship, enough for his omega purr in possession and chant that you are his, his, his!

Eventually Vil gets greedy, and lipstick marks blossom onto your skin. It's unseen in the start, hidden under your sleeves or collar, subsequently becoming more visible, until a visible kiss mark is placed on your cheek.

When he feels his public is ready or that he can't wait for the next step of your relationship, Vil would be more than honoured to receive and give a bite mark.

Omeganspace

He is not one to indulge very often, and this includes his omega instincts. It feels good when it happens, of course, but he gets quite uncomfortable later on, to be so vulnerable and out of control, he feels the possibility of falling out of perfection anytime he enters his omeganspace.

It would take a lot of trust in you for him to permit himself to strip off his senses. But when he does, he is quite talkative. Naturally, Vil likes to show off, and in situations like this he is no different, stretching out his body and whining for attention.

And if he is demanding being his normal self, he is hundreds times worse in this state, you won't get away from his line of vision, and he won't permit you to stray your gaze, cupping your face and snarling in warning if he sees your eyes tremble.

But, as always, even if his mind is filled with cotton, he promises to make it worth your while, you just need to cherish him, treat him as the queen he is, and Vil will deliver the greatest rewards for his knight.

☽ ☼ ☾

“Thank you for coming today, prefect.” Vil opened the door for you, his slender fingers circled around your wrist, subtly pressing his fingertips on your scent gland, he pulls you into his dorm “Your help is greatly appreciated.”

“It's no problem, what do you ne-” you swallow your words, and Vil feels chills coming up his spine.

You look at him, truly look at him, his skin ignites everywhere your gaze lands upon. For a brief moment, he feels too exposed, thinking that the miniskirt he chose for the day was way too short, but an undeniable thrill began to blossom in his stomach. This is what he wanted all along, for your attention to belong for him alone.

“You look stunning” you settled to look into his eyes, and Vil's heart filled with indescribable warmth, he returned a soft smile.

“As always. You don't look bad yourself” yet, your eyes remained averted from his body, and despite the frustration he felt into the very pit of his soul, he rested easily knowing that your focus was still on him.

The longer he spent with you, nudging the corners of your mind to learn more about you, he came to an understanding that you were afraid of crossing his boundaries and making him uncomfortable. Adorable that you believe it would be disrespectful to admire him, even, but it’s quite bothersome when he dressed with intent.

It's no matter, soon you would come around your behaviour, and it would be impossible for you to notice anything else but him, Vil was sure of that.

Vil pointed to a pile of cushions, rushing you to sit on it. He rounded the room, stopping at his desk and taking many lipsticks with him, then he walked to your side, comfying himself on another pillow.

“I am testing new formulas for my make-up, though I am still uncertain which one is the best,” he started, uncapping the first lipstick “can you help me decide?”

“Mn” but as soon as you went to take one of the lipsticks, he swatted your hand away.

“Transfer proof,” Vil played with the cap between his fingers, coloring his lips with deep red “is the characteristic I am looking for.”

“I don't understand how I can help with that.”

“Stay still,” the omega got closer to you, his scent containing a hint of excitement “you will be the perfect test subject” and then, his lips touched yours.

[coffeecacao]

Okay, let's talk about the coming out scene, because people are saying Taash was the one out of line.

Shathann is a sympathetic character. That does not make her a good person. She saved her child from a life of servitude by leaving the country she loved and tried to preserve that culture in her child. I respect that. I also wish there was a way to encourage Taash to embrace both sides of their culture.

BUT.

From the moment we meet her, Shathann criticizes literally everything her child does. Taash runs an errand for her, and Shathann criticizes their posture, pronunciation, gender presentation, AND sexuality, completely unprovoked, yes, in one fucking conversation. Shathann invites Taash over for dinner and then makes Taash cook that fucking dinner. And this has happened before, as stated in the dialogue. Taash is so affected by this behavior and probably worse they have endured their entire life that they say "you don't get to tell me who I am" at a simple question about their heritage, out of pure instinct.

Now to the actual scene.

Taash invites their mother to their new home and prepares a dinner for her, which Shathann immediately criticizes and has Taash make vegetables to go with. Can you imagine inviting someone into your home for dinner you prepare only for them to shit on it and ask you to cook more. And Taash does so, with a grunt. I'd be like bitch you're in my house, I cooked, eat. But they just do it.

Then they say it. "Im nonbinary." Shathann asks what that means, completely fair, and Taash explains that it means they're not a man or a woman.

Shathann asks if this is because she criticizes their gender presentation. Now listen. I have a parent who thinks nearly everything "wrong" with me is a reaction to their actions. It pisses me off. So Taash is getting reasonably frustrated, and insists that's not why. VALID. They were asked a question and they answered.

Let's talk about the Qun and gender identity. Yes they have a word for people who identify as a different gender than they were assigned. But this is implied to apply to trans men and women, not nonbinary people, so Shathann is asking Taash if they "just" identify as a man, because that's something Shathann can better understand, something more convenient for her to process. Sort of like when trans people come out to someone and are asked if they're "just gay."

No. And Taash says no. They have explained who they are. If Shathann was just having a hard time processing it that would be one thing, but she basically talked over Taash and tried to suggest that they were just a man, which they are not. Taash is being vulnerable. Taash doesn't even HAVE to tell Shathann this, but they want to, they think she deserves to know.

And what Taash says next is not purely to do with this one conversation, as explicit in the text. "why am I never enough for you." Never. Not now. We have seen Shathann critique Taash in every scene they share, and that's with a whole other person present who is not in the family. We don't know what happens in private. Shathann signed her child up for a fucking war without even talking to them about it. What Taash says is the build up of years of being talked over and criticized for everything they do, provoked by offering themselves to that person in a vulnerable position only to be talked over and criticized more.

"Why am I never enough for you."

And Shathann does not answer. She doesnt say "of course you are." Even if she disagreed with Taash's identity, which would be shitty, she could still affirm that they are enough for her. She doesn't.

She fucking leaves.

Maybe she thinks that's what Taash wants. Maybe not. But if someone asks you something like that, you affirm them. You say they are enough. Especially if they're your fucking child. But no, this conversation is too inconvenient for Shathann, she's not getting her way like she did when she signed Taash up for a war without their consent, so she just leaves. She could've said "I don't understand, but I love you." She couldve said anything. But she just left.

I'm sad she died. Im glad she accepted her child in the end. But no, Taash was not in any way out of line in this conversation.

Shathann was.

[shimmernspice]

Contraindicated

pairing: college dealer Vi x college student reader

Description: Vi knows better than to get involved with customers - especially the pretty ones who get her tongue-tied and nervous.

Warnings: 18+, drugs (weed)

The party was already in full swing by the time Vi arrived, her shoulders tense beneath her as she weaved through the crowd. Vi hated these things. She wouldn't have shown up if it weren't for Jinx and Ekko dragging her out of their apartment.

These things were too loud with too many people - but it was also good for business. Quick deals in dim hallways, maybe saying hi to familiar faces, and then she would leave.

That was the plan anyways.

You leaned against the wooden railing of the porch, enjoying the way the smoke from your blunt curled into the dark. The back door creaked open and shut. You didn't bother looking up from your spot - just another person needing a break from the party. But when the new person made herself comfortable against the railing you finally glanced over.

She was tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing a tight jacket that did nothing to hide her muscles underneath. She exhaled slowly and rolled her shoulders like she was trying to shake something off.

You studied her for a moment, your gaze lingering a little too long on her face. Her eyes met yours before you could look away and a blush spread across your cheeks. So embarrassing you thought to yourself. Holding out your blunt, "Want a hit?"

She snorted, shaking her head. "Nah I'm good. Appreciate it though."

You gave her a small grin, "Trying to quit or something?"

"More like I've got better shit at home." Shooting you an amused but cautious look, "I deal."

That caught your attention. You hummed, weighing the information before taking another hit. "Good to know."

She let out a small laugh, shaking her head before replying. "You say that like you're gonna actually remember." You grin.

"I've been looking for a new dealer anyway. My guy has been upcharging me since I said no to a date."

Vi hesitated and against her judgment, held out her hand to you. "Vi," she said, introducing herself. Vi hated selling to people who weren't introduced by her customers, the risk of getting caught made her nervous. Hell, she had only known you for a couple of minutes and she was willing to throw her caution to the wind.

But Vi always had a weakness for pretty girls. And staring at you in the dim glow of the porch light shut her brain down.

She reaches into her pocket, pulls her phone out and offers it to you to put your number in. What am I doing? Stepping closer, she presses it into your free hand.

You come forward, taking the phone from her. Her fingers are rough against yours. You try to convince yourself that the electricity you felt was because you took one too many hits and not because of how nervous the hot redhead is making you feel. You slip your hand away from hers and Vi almost chases it. Gods, what Vi would do to feel your hand it hers again.

"Don't make me regret that," she murmured, low and serious.

Something in her tone sent a thrill down your spine. Not a warning exactly. But maybe a challange.

You smirked, typing your number into the phone. You hand her back the phone, leaning in closer than you already were. "No promises."

Before anything else could happen, Jinx burst through the door. A knowing and mischievous smile graces her face. "Don't let me ruin the moment guys." Her voice cuts the obviously thick tension between the two of you.

You offer Vi a smile before you disappear back into the house, the door clicking shut behind you.

Vi sighed, staring down at the phone that was in her grip.

The screen lit up. New Contact: Trouble❤️

Her jaw clenched. A chuckle escaped her lips as she turned off the phone and put it back in her pocket.

Yeah. She was in for it.

[theocddiaries]

Amy: What you two need to do to smooth things over is talk. With an impartial third party guiding you with a little bit of psychology. So come on, let's start. Sonic, say something you like about Shadow. Sonic: He's kind. Very level-headed. Trustworthy. He brings calm wherever he goes. Shadow: ���Thank you, Sonic. Amy: Good. Shadow? Shadow: Hm… Well, he's… Good-hearted, even at his own detriment. He’s funny. He always tries to include everyone. He makes people feel comfortable. Sonic: Thanks, Shads. Amy: See? Saying those things is important. Just like accepting criticism. Why don't you start this time, Shadow? What's something about Sonic that you don't like? Shadow: Well… when I ask him if he wants something to eat and he says no, but then he starts picking at my plate… Sonic: It's true, I do that. I say I don’t feel like eating, but then I see the food and I can’t resist. Sorry. Shadow: It’s fine. I’m starting to remember to grab you a separate plate with a little bit of everything. Sonic: Okay, my turn. Hmm… I don’t like when you move my things around. I can never find anything. Shadow: Well, that’s not really moving things around, it’s called organizing, but okay, I accept the criticism. Amy: See? That’s healthy communication and-- Sonic: Since you’re accepting criticism so well, what about never admitting you're wrong? Like now. Amy: Sonic, wait, we’ve-- Shadow: I was actually being gracious because I don’t want to start a fight. Amy: Shadow, I was talking-- Sonic: I've got another one, you keep everything to yourself and then people have to guess what’s wrong with you. Shadow: You surely aren't talking about yourself in that scenario, considering you spend all day with your head in the clouds. Maybe that’s why you’re confused, saying I move your things when all I do is put them in a drawer instead of leaving them on the floor. Amy: Guys, we’re drifting off-topic a little-- Sonic: Look, if you need to micro-manage everything because you’ve got a trauma the size of Greenland, it’s not my fault, okay? Shadow: I do not micro-manage. Sonic: Come on, everything has to be as you wish. Shadow: If that were true, the trash wouldn't still be there. When are you going to take it out? Sonic: When I feel like it because this is my house. If I want to leave it there until it grows legs and throws itself out, I will! Shadow: Now you can afford the luxury call this a house; before I got here, this place was a mess! Sonic: No. Before you got here, this place was a peaceful haven! Shadow: A peaceful haven full of crap. You’ve got the closets as decoration, you big lazy! Amy: Okay guys, let’s breathe-- Sonic: Maybe I'm just tired of coming home and seeing you with that damn scowl all day, bitter idiot! Shadow: Maybe I’m pissed off all day because you don’t do anything! Sonic: I don't do anything because according to you I do everything wrong, Mr I-don't-micromanage! Just tell me what you want and I'll do it! Shadow: Right now, what I want is for you to leave! Sonic: No, you leave, you’re the one who’s a problem wherever you go! Shadow: Gladly! [stands up and walks toward the door] Sonic: Oh no no! I’m leaving, so you can't act like a martyr! [leaves the house too] [Amy pinches the bridge of her nose while they’re still heard arguing in the hallway.] Shadow: Stop following me, idiot! Sonic: I’m not following you, you paranoid, I’m going in the elevator! Shadow: Of course you’re taking the elevator! Lazy! Sonic: Go ahead and take the whole staircase, you selfish! Knuckles [comes out of the kitchen with a sandwich, having heard everything]: Damn, is this therapy? Making things worse? People spend money on such things… or maybe you're just really bad at this. Amy [throws a pillow at him] Knuckles: Ow! [sarcastically]: Amy, accepting criticism is important, Amy.

This could be like the prologue of this and this tbh

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

the fog. l Joel Miller

Summary: something that happened made the memories come back

Warnings: angst, mentioning violence and death, two dead, blood and gore, lots of fear, Ellie and Tommy, vomiting, Reader is broken, allusions to sexual abuse and torture

A/N: maybe I shouldn't have added this part so quickly, but I had it in my head and I literally had a few free hours. I don't know when I'll be so lucky again. there are definitely a lot of mistakes here. please, be understanding. I meant well.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

When you left Jackson with Sam and Anthony the weather had definitely turned bad. After a few days of beautiful sunshine and blue skies, dark clouds brought rain and everything became grey and gloomy. 

Joel tried to hide his anxiety as you watched with such enthusiasm as you packed your backpack, reassuring him once again that you had packed everything. Even the knife he had once given you was safely in your pocket. If it weren't for that damned hand, he would have gone instead of you, but he didn't want to burden you with his worries.

After the last expedition for supplies, after you snapped, you needed him more than ever. But now you had to get back on your feet again, on your own. He knew it had nothing to do with him, but he was still worried.

"See you in a few days," you said, kissing him fondly goodbye.

"Don't be late."

You smiled, squeezed his good hand, and set off with Sam and Anthony.

Three or four days. That's how long, according to Tommy's estimate, this expedition should take. You were supposed to get to a nearby town, it was abandoned and none of you had been there for some time. After everything that could be used had been taken away from there many times, there wasn't much to be found. However, for safety's sake, the area should be checked.

Joel couldn't sit in an empty house. He tried to keep himself occupied, he went to the stables a few times, but his thoughts began to wander into dangerous areas. So he spent time with Tommy and the others, looked at the map, wondered where you were and if everything was okay.

Ellie spent time with her friends, but whenever she saw Joel, or when they met at the house, she asked about you. He didn't have to answer her much. The important thing was that she didn't hear any bad news.

On the third day, it started to rain. Small drops, the ones you hated so much. Joel smiled, because he could already see your gloomy face when you came back soaked. However, the day passed and you were gone.

Four days. Tommy said it could be four days. He kept repeating it to himself, but when he met his brother, he saw the same anxiety in his eyes.

That night, Joel didn't sleep a wink. Along with the usual guard, he sat on the wall and stared at the horizon as if you were going to appear there at any moment. This was the second time you were late. But now you went there because he couldn't, so he felt an additional sense of guilt.

"They'll come back, they always come back." Tommy didn't sound too confident when he said it.

"If something happened..."

Tommy looked at his brother. He could only guess how hard it was for him, the fear of loss was so damn strong in him, and this situation didn't help.

The sixth day. From early morning in Jackson, people began preparing to go in search of you. A group of about ten men were ready to set off. Joel was furious when Tommy refused to let him go.

"You're in a sling! You can't fucking ride." and then he watched in horror as his brother freed his arm and, although wincing in pain, mounted the horse.

He couldn't fight him. He wouldn't stand a chance.

The road wasn't easy. The ground was damp and muddy, it was cold and unpleasant. The group didn't say much, they focused more on observation, to find some trace as soon as possible or to spot someone approaching them.

Joel tried not to focus on the unpleasant feeling that accompanied horseback riding. He guessed that the bone might have healed, but it was still very sensitive. However, his brain was focused only on you, the rest was not important.

With difficulty, he was convinced to stop. Night was approaching and there was no point in everyone risking it. If it weren't for Tommy and the others, Joel would probably have gone on alone. However, he stayed and as soon as the sun appeared on the horizon, he was already on his feet and driving everyone to continue their journey.

The fog engulfed the area, and the cold seeped into his jacket. Silence, only the sounds of horses and the forest. But, unexpectedly, something changed.

Tommy's horse twitched, startled by something, and right after that Joel felt his own move strangely too. Something must have been approaching them and the animals must have sensed it. He reached for his weapon and tried to peer into the nearby trees and undergrowth, to see some movement, maybe a figure or an animal.

Joel's heart stopped a second later.

You looked terrifying. He noticed immediately that something was wrong. He jumped off his horse and before Tommy could stop him, he was already running towards you. You tried to run too, as soon as you realized who you had met, but you were too tired. Your knees were buckling under you and tears were welling up in your eyes, and you couldn't hold them back anymore. When Joel grabbed you in his arms, you sank down onto the grass.

"Riders... There were riders." You whispered in a trembling voice.

More people surrounded you, but you were only staring into those brown eyes, the ones that were home and a symbol of safety.

"Are you hurt, baby?" he gasped, looking at you in horror.

Your clothes were covered in blood, as were your face and hands. He noticed the cut on your jacket, but the wound on your arm was no longer bleeding. Neither was your lip.

You shook your head. "Sam... Anthony... They're dead."

"How many are there? Were they in the city?" Tommy asked. You didn't even flinch. Your lips twisted, however, and after a moment you burst into tears.

"Sam and Anthony... I couldn't do anything..."

Familiar hands grabbed your face, pushing back your wet and dirty hair. A terrifying sob escaped your throat.

"Did they do something to you? Tell me!" Joel asked, maybe a little too nervously, but everything inside him was boiling.

You were too distraught, alternately sobbing and repeating the names of your companions, repeating that they were dead, talking about the Riders, and crying again.

Your fingers dug into the ground as hysteria slowly consumed you. Like you had been strong for too long and only now, with Joel before you, had all the dams given way. Your voice was incoherent, jumbled sobs and the same repeated words blending together.

Finally, Joel turned your face towards him, shook you as if he hoped it would bring you to your senses. For a moment he saw it in your eyes - total terror and brokenness.

"Tell me everything, please."

Somehow the words spilled from your lips.

Joel didn't remember how you got back to Jackson, or how you ended up at your house. Ellie's face showed complete fear when she saw you, but she quickly followed Joel's instructions.

She was the one who drew you a bath, and put your comfortable clothes on the counter by the sink. Without a word, she left the bedroom and closed the door behind her. 

Just like you had done a few days earlier, it was Joel who helped you take off your clothes. Layer by layer, all dirty and wet. You jumped like a startled animal when a sound like something heavy falling to the floor came from downstairs.

"It's nothing." Joel quickly tried to calm you down. "Ellie wants to make you some tea. She's just a little clumsy..."

You nodded, but the fear didn't leave your eyes. Finally, when he took off your underwear, he helped you get into the tub and you immersed yourself in the hot water. The scent of lavender reached your nostrils and the warmth began to envelop you, slowly permeating the layers of your frozen skin.

Seeing you like this always broke his heart. Yes, you were only human and you didn't have to be strong all the time. However, you carried wounds that clearly couldn't heal. Joel knew there was nothing he could do, but he would give anything to be able to take this burden off your shoulders, to take it upon himself so that it would be easier for you.

Carefully, with a wet towel, he washed your face and hands. He did it slowly, as if he could wash away the bad memories from you. It was only after several long minutes that you spoke. Almost a whisper, your voice was dead and alien. Joel listened, although he knew he might regret it later.

"I was part of a group that got out of one of the cities controlled by FEDRA. A few outcasts, a few who wanted to find their loved ones, a few who wanted to have adventures. And me. Maybe ten people, something like that. It was unwise, I know, but then..." you took a deep breath and wrapped your arms around your knees, letting Joel carefully clean the wound on your shoulder. "It was fine for a long time. A few broke away, went their own way. That's fine. I stayed, I didn't have a plan, I didn't have anyone close enough to look for or follow him. One guy was a Firefly, as was his girlfriend. I thought... Why not? I was good at what I did, but not good enough..."

You froze. Joel didn't say a word. He guessed what he might hear next.

"We met them when we entered some city, I don't even know what the sign at the entrance said. First a few infected, quick work. And then... It was a larger and well-organized group, and we were like ducks in a shooting gallery. I killed one or two of them and hid. I waited until nightfall, and they... I heard everything." Nails dug into your flesh, but you didn't react to it. Once you started, you couldn't finish talking. "I heard everything. What they did to those girls, how they slowly finished off the guys. It was a long night... I didn't dare go out in the morning. I waited again until nightfall. I was paralyzed. Only then did I get out of the city and hide in the forest. I don't remember how I got to Jackson, I sat there for a while, but I couldn't be around people. So I started hanging around the area again... Closer and further away. After a while, I came across you." Your eyes found him. Joel noticed how much sadness there was in them and how much it cost you to tell him all of this.

"Baby..." he said quietly "I'm so sorry you went through this..."

"On that patrol... I couldn't do anything. I didn't hide like I did then, but I couldn't do much and..." your breathing quickened, your eyes glazed over again and Joel grabbed your face trying to calm you down.

"No one blames you for this. Fuck! Baby, I should have been there, not you. It was me..."

"You could be dead already!" you interrupted him sharply "I don't want you to feel sorry for me, I don't want pity. I survived it and I would do it again if I had to. I did terrible things, but for you, for Ellie, for Tommy and Maria, I would do it all over again."

Joel understood that. He understood you really well and he felt that it was you who gave him strength at that moment, and not him giving it to you.

"Hi. I brought some soup. Maria made more, she thought you probably have other things on your mind right now."

Joel nodded and let Tommy in. It was dark. He'd only managed to convince you to go to bed an hour ago, and he was trying to find a place to sit and think.

Tommy put two jars of soup on the counter and leaned against it, folding his arms over his chest. "How is she?"

"Fine, if I may say so." Joel sighed, sitting down at the table. "Ellie is there. She's in bed with her so she can sleep."

Tommy nodded. "She was in terrible shape. God! Two days without sleep, food or water, in this condition..." Joel rubbed his forehead with his hand and closed his eyes for a moment, he still had your terrified face in front of him. "Did they? You know..."

He shook his head. "They didn't make it. She ran away when she had the chance."

“The scars and wounds will heal, but here…” Tommy touched his temple with a finger, and Joel nodded to show he understood. “A group will go tomorrow to see what happened there. She said there might have been ten of them, we’ll check it out.”

He noticed his brother straighten up, dark eyes looking at him carefully. "I'm going with them."

"Are you crazy!" Tommy snorted. "With your shoulder and when she's like this? Besides, she'd cut my balls off if she found out I let you go."

Joel stood up abruptly, slamming his hand on the table, anger written all over his face. "I have to find them. For what they did to her... Fuck! You didn't see her!"

The younger brother watched him carefully, but also with fear. He knew that in anger his brother could do terrible things, and although he wanted to get his hands on those men, he didn't want to risk him too. Finally he shook his head.

"No way. You should stay here. She needs you, more than ever."

"I can help you!" Joel hissed, already furious. "I can't wait here while they fucking torture her."

"No! I don't agree." Tommy continued. "This is a crazy idea."

"I don't fucking care! You don't know how I feel! I should be there, not her. I could have lost her too, do you understand?! I can't wait and do nothing!"

"But you will! Because she should be your priority right now, not revenge." He noticed that Joel's eyes were getting glassy, ​​he tried to hide it clumsily by looking away. "She's already saved my life, I'm grateful for that. So I can't let you risk yours, she wouldn't want that."

"You don't know what she wants." Joel snorted.

"She definitely wants you and Ellie to be safe. Listen..." he approached him and put his hand on his shoulder "We'll find those people. But you have to take care of her now and..."

The noise upstairs drew their attention. Quick footsteps, a slam of a door, and then another. Ellie's cry echoed downstairs.

"Joel! Quick!"

He and Tommy were upstairs in a flash, then burst into the bedroom. They saw a terrified Ellie, who pointed to the bathroom, and Joel guessed he'd find you there. When he entered, he saw you huddled by the toilet, spasms of retching racking your body, your shirt wet and stuck to your back.

"Baby..." he groaned, kneeling next to you and brushing your hair away.

You were unable to answer. Only Ellie, who slipped in behind them, spoke quietly.

"I don't know what happened. I must have fallen asleep... Suddenly she woke up screaming, jumped out of bed and... Joel, is she okay?" 

He didn't know what to answer. He saw Tommy's face, who was just as scared as he was.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again

[covenofagatha]

my dears please do not aspire to be me.. the horniness consumes you and your work! it's horrendously and deliciously distracting.. i have way overdue studying that has not been done 😭

anyhow, thank you miss covenofagatha for replying me so quickly <3 i saw your reply about being on the rowing team, and afterwards i headed to the gym where i got complimented by an acquaintance who said i "gained a lot of muscle". obviously i ran away because i can't talk to women but the agatha brainworm persisted! so i present a very self-indulgent baby brainworm:

sub! needy! agatha who's obsessed with your body, and she can't stop thinking about riding your abs. even if you're asleep.

(contains g!p daddy! reader, i might not have abs but let me pretend for a sec, bratty agatha, sweat mention, suggestive showers™, consensual somno, pillow riding and grinding which becomes ab riding and grinding, degradation)

the moment you come home from work, agatha's all over you. "i missed you," she mumbles, words muffled by your broad shoulder that she's buried herself into. you grunt out a half-exasperated "agatha", pushing her off you gently because you're sticky with sweat and you really, really need a shower.

(it's funny because when you're out together, most people assume agatha's the dom, the top. little do they know how she melts into putty in your hands, all whiny and desperate for your cock. and agatha loves feeding into it, because every time rio brings up agatha pegging you as a joke, you drag her into a nearby bathroom stall and fuck her against the wall, snarling about "what would they say if they knew you were my little brat, huh? that you're so fucking needy for daddy's dick?")

she clings back onto you, and while agatha harkness does not pout, the narrowing of her eyes at you certainly feels like she is. you sigh, shaking your head fondly as you meander your way to the bathroom. she does this song and dance with you every time you go off for work, your part-time job as a physical trainer at a nearby gym. each time, she mutters about how she can provide for both of you easily, but you brush her off because you don't want to be a burden. you already live in her house basically for free!

one upside of the job, is that whenever you come home in your tank top and sweatpants, agatha gets all flustered and needy. you asked her after the fifth time she jumped you why she gets so worked up the moment you get home; and she'd spluttered a sorry excuse, cheeks blushed a faint pink, and you just had to fuck her again then and there.

this time, though, you're still aching from your workout. "hit a new PR, baby," you say as you turn away to strip for the shower, "m'a little sore," hoping it'll deter her advances a little. when she doesn't respond, you turn back to realise she's raking her eyes up and down your body, licking her lips, pupils dilating greedily. You raise an eyebrow curiously, and she seems to snap out of whatever daydream she's in.

"I'm going to shower," you warn, implying that there will be no shower shenanigans, and she huffs, arms folded. "I'm joining you," she declares, and leaves no room for argument as she begins unbuttoning her shirt seductively -- normally, you'd pounce all over her, and your cock hardening cements its approval on the idea, but you really are a bit sleepy.

by the time the two of you get in, she's facing you directly as you lather soap all over your body, her fingers trailing up your abdomen. "sweetheart," you groan, and she mocks you with a saccharine call of "daddy". she moves, and you can feel the heat radiating from her cunt, her fingertips ghosting each ridge and dip and scar while she noses into your neck.

"you're such a brat," you grumble, and she coos, grinding her clit upwards against your raging boner with a "then punish me, daddy," and you keen loudly. fuck, she's good at this. "I'm tired, baby. really," you protest again, and she slumps in irritation.

"don't pout, darling," you console her, stifling a chuckle at the great agatha harkness getting grouchy because she isn't getting fucked. "I'm not," and her eyes glint with something mischievous. you'd be a little concerned if you managed to see it, but unfortunately for you, she steps out of the shower before you can decipher it.

after soft kisses and promises to fuck her silly tomorrow, agatha seems to have settled, accepting that she won't cum tonight. "my sweet girl can hold out a little longer, can't she?" is what tides her over until you fall asleep, breathing evening out as you relax next to her.

there, as you fidget with the sheets, your shirt riding up, she spots the central object of an embarrassing number of wet dreams; your abs. agatha never thought she'd be so enraptured by a part of your abdomen, always liking your tits or ass or cock, because duh. but as she grows accustomed to those, she finds that every time you flash her with your soft tummy with the hard edges of your core muscles, she gets soaked.

the idea that you're so fit, that your perfect body is owned by her the way hers is by you, drives her insane. she needs to run her hands over them, plant kisses along the ridges, lick up your happy trail, suck marks over your skin -- fuck, she's so wet already.

she glances over, and you look so utterly perfect, all ready for her. she battles herself for a little while, because contrary to popular belief, she *does* want to be your good girl. but you wouldn't even know, right? so she wouldn't be breaking the rules if you didn't know she was.

she tries with her pillow, imagining its your hard muscle and gentle skin, but it isn't enough. the fabric runs rough, and it's smooth as silk but it isn't *you*. agatha turns, looking at your snoozing form -- and makes a decision.

.. it's your fault for being so damn hot, honestly.

you wake up to a moving weight on your stomach, a sticky hot wetness coating your lower abdomen. blinking your eyes open, your mind hardly registers the moans above you, and your body flexes reflexively. agatha whines a loud "daddy, fuck-" and your eyes shoot open, hips bucking up, and your gaze settles on her.

agatha straddles your waist, one thigh on each side of you, ass sitting on your bulge as she bunches up the blanket in her grip; most importantly, though, is the furious rutting of her cunt against your abs, and it sounds so fucking wet. her head is thrown backwards, eyes rolled back too, and the noises coming from her mouth are positively *filthy*.

frantic whimpers of "daddy" and "feels s'good" and "please" drive you feral, and you swear under your breath before sitting up, agatha whining at the clench of your muscles under her.

"you're so fucking desperate," you grip her hips, stilling her movement and agatha genuinely wails. "couldn't wait, huh? daddy's needy little slut. can't even use my cock, getting off on my abs? pathetic whore."

"need you, daddy, please," her cunt throbs, and she feels your hardened cock pulse underneath her, and agatha gasps as you move to dig your fingers into her supple ass. "oh, baby, I know," your core muscles hurt from the awkward position, and they contract. when she pants, out of breath from her earlier endeavours, you roll your eyes mockingly.

"hump," you bite your lip at the moan that erupts from her at your command, and she obeys, her juices slick as she slides against you again. "so you can listen, hm? you just choose not to, little brat. need daddy to fuck your brains out? couldn't control yourself, had to touch yourself while daddy was asleep?"

she whines again, nodding quickly, "yes, daddy, fuck, couldn't help it- you looked so good, daddy, please-" cooing at her, you knead her soft cheeks, humming condescendingly.

"aww, my pathetic girl has to cum? beg for it, then."

-

okay I'm tapping out here because this is getting too long and i cant decide if i want her to be edged or cum without permission....... you get to decide, i guess!

(i personally am more on the beefy side and i do not have abs... so this is probably inaccurate lmfao. sorry dear i dont train for the aesthetic, as long as i can lift big things im good, so this is likely not uber accurate.)

hope you like your reward! let me know if anything was too much etc. i hope your exam went well / goes well, haha. take care dear 💜

-lots of love, worm anon

Oh my god 🫠 brb about to go to the gym in the first time in over a year and get those swimmer/rower abs back (completely unrelated to this of course)

I didn't know bottom!Agatha could be so hot HELP

Hmm I do think reader would let her cum for being so good and asking for it so nicely

I very much like my reward (thank you SO much) and as always, I can't wait for your next brainworm

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hello! 👋 Thank you for your writing and effort. Can I request a story about reader and Donna having an affair? Maybe reader is Cassandra's gf but Cassandra doesn't treat her right like she flirts with other girls in front of reader and stuff like that? In the process of Cassandra sending reader to run her errands to her aunt Donna house they fall in love. Considering that Donna is super possessive and jealous everytime she sees reader they make love and is a struggle letting reader go back to the castle

One day Donna finds a hickey on reader's neck and goes mad because reader had promised it that Cassandra and her weren't intimate anymore (Cassandra was busy with other girls). Reader tries to explain her that she didn't enjoy it but Donna in her madness and jealousy kicks her out. After that when Donna comes to her sense she realizes she can't live without reader and is willing to fight for her so she goes to the castle and lady dimitrescu thinking her sister has just come to visit her invite her to have dinner. At the dinner table she sees reader and Cassandra but reader looks sad and pale. At one point in the night Donna notices Cassandra and reader fighting and Cassandra about to raise her hand on reader so Donna sees red and punches her niece. That's all the truth comes out and lady dimistrecu having noticed how her daughter treated reader scolds her terribly in front of everybody and let reader go with Donna. G!p Donna is that's okay?

Yess!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the delay, and the language mistakes!!! :)))))

Your arms, my safe place

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, castle maid! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, a bit of smut, Minors DNI, angst, dark themes, (Y/N) is Cassandra's gf, but things don't go well... mentions of abuse?

Word count: 9,796, too long, sorry

Summary: You wanted to be with her, but fate has another plans for you...

N/A: HELLO AGAIN PEOPLE!!! I'm back as you see!!! Thank you for all your support all this time, you're wonderful!!! I'm here again, but I'm afraid I'm unable to update everyday, but I'll do it when I can, I guess maybe 3 times a week!!! So... Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :)) Oh, and sorry about the language mistakes!!!

Donna's hands slipped under your uniform, untying the ties that held it to your body while you worked on the buttons of the blouse of her dress. Your head spun and the excitement was overwhelming.

Determined to leave behind anything that would interrupt the moment, you broke free from your thoughts when your hands brushed her skin, when your fingers unclasped her bra with a quick movement.

Donna began to become wild, dominant, as if the simple act of claiming you, of making love to you, reminded her that you were one step closer to stop being Cassandra's, to being only hers.

After all, feeling like you were hers wasn't the same as being so. Donna knew that, and it tormented her.

A few intense kisses on your neck brought you back to reality, making you moan, close your eyes, and forget about your worries. Her lips felt soft on your skin, her teeth barely grazed you, but made you tremble.

“D-Donna, b-be careful,”  you said, making the brunette move away from your neck to slide her hands under your legs and lift you romantically, placing you gently on the bed.

“Mm?” she murmured distractedly, bringing her hips closer to yours, making you notice her imprisoned erection pressing against your body and forcing you to emit an involuntary moan.

“N-not the neck, okay? You could leave a mark on me and Ca…” you said with a slightly clearer voice, putting your hands on her shoulders and causing her expression to suddenly harden.

“Shut up,” Donna snapped at you with a cold, angry look, hitting the mattress with her fist. “D-Don't say her name,” she hissed, looking away and accelerating her breathing.

You rushed to fix things as best you could: cupping her face in your hands.

“Shh, darling, forgive me, I didn't mean… Donna, my love, I'm sorry, okay?” you said tenderly, to which the lady closed her eye and let the air out of her lungs slowly.

“I know, I… It's just that I…” she stammered without looking directly at you.

“Come here,” you said, bringing your lips closer to hers, kissing the lady to distract her from the uncomfortable truth of the situation, one that seemed increasingly difficult for the doll maker to assimilate.

The insecurities were silenced with the wet sounds of your kisses, with gasps and sighs that increased with each look, word, whisper, caress…

Your hands sought the warmth of her pale skin, her perfect breasts, her arousal struggling to free itself from the black fabric of her underwear… That was more than enough for Donna to roar anxiously, grabbing your legs and freeing her shaft, bringing it closer to your wetness.

Donna was in a hurry, her body was in a hurry to claim you and her thrusts began to move your body while you closed your eyes, noticing how your walls stretched and pleasure began to invade you.

Your hands moved erratically as she claimed your body desperately, moaning in a very low voice, grunting every time she felt you squeeze her. They were quick movements, but when you opened your eyes you felt relief; relief to see her eyes looking at you as always, with love, with tenderness, in a way Cassandra never did.

You could have lost yourself in her perfectly controlled thrusts, in all the sensations that ran through your body, but something prevented you from doing so, forcing you to focus, to finish that forbidden act as soon as possible.

“Ti amo, (Y/N),” the lady whispered, stopping to kiss you slowly, to check that her haste, her eagerness wasn’t hurting you.

“I love you, Donna,” you answered, with a melancholic smile. “D-Don't stop, please.”

She obeyed with a timid nod, resuming her movements as she separated your legs even further, taking absolute control.

The moans, the creaks of the bed accompanied your feelings until the pleasure was too intense, releasing an orgasm, revealing that your body was ready to enjoy the woman you loved, without thinking about anything else.

Her release came soon after, warming your body, caressing your walls in a wet and lustful way. Afterwards, Donna pulled away with a grunt, lying down beside you to begin your favorite part of those visits.

Yes, sex was incredible, but what you really enjoyed were those moments embraced, naked, those tender smiles of Lady Beneviento looking at you, those kisses soaked with the sweat of the effort of loving you… Yes, that was your favorite part.

After a few comforting moments of silence, you inched closer to her naked body, burying your head in her chest as her delicate hands lovingly caressed your hair.

“I could lose myself in your arms,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from the passion that seemed to still reverberate off the bedroom walls.

Donna laughed softly, pulling you closer to kiss your forehead, to brush your hair away from your face as you sighed. You wondered if maybe that was her favorite part too.

Your hands tangled together, absentmindedly playing with each other as the lady in black hummed an unfamiliar tune. Your gaze focused on her soft, fine hands, contrasting with the roughness of yours.

“You know? I find incredible that we have come to this…” you sighed, losing yourself again in her gaze. “I remember the first time I came… You closed the door in my face…”

“Mm, it's true,” the brunette said, amused, with a touch of shame in her voice. “I wasn't used to visits.”

“Oh,” you continued joking, sensually bringing your lips closer to hers, without kissing them, leaving the lady frustrated, teasing her.

“Now I can't live without them,” she answered, thus beginning a fight of kisses.

“Donna,” you said, trying to get away from her addictive lips with amusement.

 “(Y/N),” she said shortly after, sitting on the bed and looking away from you for a moment.

“What's wrong?” you asked, noticing how her body separated from yours, creating a horrible feeling of cold and abandonment on your skin.

“Mm, niente, io…”

“Hey! Are you done yet?! Angie doesn't like to be alone…” A sing-song voice sounded from behind the door, breaking that tense calm, that moment of lucidity from the lady in black, those words, which, surely, would start a conversation that you didn't feel like having, not that day.

“Angie…” Donna hissed, shaking her head and rolling her eye. “Go away!”

“I don't want to! Come here now! I'm bored!” the doll shrieked, with a mocking melody in her voice.

You laughed at the doll's always irreverent attitude, and at the embarrassment that it produced in its owner.

Donna looked at you and her smile also widened, joining you in a tender and soft laugh, resting her forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N), you know the way she is,” she said amused, shaking her head and tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Poor Angie,” you mocked in a low voice while the doll tried to get your attention with soft knocks on the door. “Besides, I…” you said, immediately staying quiet.

“What?” the lady asked, suddenly nervous, her gaze reflecting the fear of hearing that phrase, the phrase that always stabbed a knife deep into her heart.

“It's late and…” you whispered unsure, looking away and uncovering yourself, searching for your clothes. “I have, I have to…”

“Don't say it, please,” Donna interrupted, shaking her head, grabbing your wrist.

“I'm sorry, Donna, but I have to go,” you finally said, disobeying that silent plea, making her hand gently leave your skin. “It's going to get dark.”

“But, but,” the woman said, shaking her head and searching in her mind for an excuse, some words to make you reconsider your decision.

It wasn't really a decision. Your heart ached at the thought, knowing how much it hurt Donna to see you leaving, something that was becoming more and more difficult.

In silence, you both dressed again, without looking at each other, without doing or saying anything. The tension slowly increased; a tension that couldn't be dispelled with an apology or an empty promise, not anymore.

“Can I brush your hair?” Donna asked in a whisper as you looked at yourself in the vanity, searching for a mark, anything that could give you away to your true owner.

You nodded, letting her take a brush and gently run it through your hair as you both looked at each other in the mirror. Her bright eye betrayed regret, sadness, and yours betrayed lack of sleep, tiredness, laziness…

It was an overwhelming sight, but somehow it had its own sparkle. She was at your side, her beauty accompanying you, her hands caressing you as she gently combed your hair. Donna was with you, and that made you feel complete.

“Are you two deaf!? I'm here...” the doll joked, but without causing the same laughter as before.

It was a sad moment, the only moment you hated when you were with Donna.

“(Y/N), you don't have to do it,” Donna said softly, checking the result of her movements in the mirror and bending down slowly, surrounding your waist with her arms. “Please, stay with me a little longer, please.”

“You know I can't.” It was all you managed to say, shaking your head and pushing her hands away as you got up from the chair.

“We could play chess, or, or I could teach you to cook my recipes… Or maybe we could read in silence, with the fireplace sheltering us from the cold and…” the brunette insisted, pulling your body back, holding you tighter again.

“I can't, Donna,” you said, moving away abruptly, regretting it instantly. “Don't make it more difficult for me, my love…”

“You make it difficult for me,” she replied, giving some room and moving away. “You don't know what it's like to see you leaving every week, to see you going back to… to her,” she whispered with a cold look, with her teeth clenched.

“Donna,” you reprimanded, cupping her face in your hands, fearing that the tension would suddenly explode, embittering the moment. “I'll be back, you know I always do.”

“What if one day you don't?” she asked, grabbing your wrists, hurting you.

“Honey, please let me go,” you said in a calm voice, being released instantly. “I promise I'll be back. You're the only thing that makes my life worth living.”

“But, tesoro...” she insisted, grabbing your wrists again, this time more gently. “Io...”

“Shh...” you hissed, putting two fingers on her lips before kissing them softly, noticing the salty taste of a tear that came out of your eyes involuntarily. “Donna...”

“(Y/N), don't leave,” the brunette said again, lowering her gaze, blinking erratically.

“I'll be back, darling,” you repeated like a mantra that relaxed, but at the same time, distressed you.

Finally the lady in black nodded, keeping her hand in yours, but accepting the reality.

With a passionate kiss, you pulled away from her, walking towards the bedroom door, something you couldn't do, as her grip refused to let you go.

“Donna, please...” you said, increasingly nervous, pulling on her arm. “Donna, let me go.”

She did so with an angry growl and a dark expression, turning to give you her back, making her dress dance hypnotically as she sat at the vanity, unable to watch you walk away.

“Just be patient, my love,” you said quietly, opening the bedroom door, not wanting to wait for an answer.

“It's about time! Let's play!” Angie shrieked as she saw you walk past her. “Hey, silly, are you leaving?”

“I'm sorry Angie, but I have to go back to the castle,” you said, putting on your coat, refusing to look back.

A loud noise startled you: Donna's fist hitting the vanity furiously. It was time to leave, you couldn't leave her like that, but you had to.

“Cazzo!” the brunette shrieked as she hit the furniture over and over again.

“Oops,” Angie sighed, looking at you accusingly. “It's your fault, silly.”

“I, I just…” you said sobbing, knowing that you couldn't even help her, that you couldn't stay to ease her madness. “I-I have to go…”

“Yes, go! I'll fix your mess, like always!” the doll scolded you, walking gracefully towards the bedroom. “Donna, Donna, don't do that... Donna...”

The brunette's screams and sobs echoed in the walls until you went up the elevator, turning them off like the end of a movie, the end of a melancholic symphony that split your soul in two.

“I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, my love,” you sighed quietly, closing your eyes and walking automatically towards the exit, towards the cold of that place, far from the comfort and warmth of your lover's arms.

Born and raised in that forgotten village, your future was written. You couldn't be what you wanted, but what you had to be. Being just another maid was your destiny, and you had no choice but to accept it.

The castle always gladly hired any young girl who was willing to work, to serve its mistress, but the work wasn't as hard as you expected.

Alcina Dimitrescu was an imposing woman, but elegant and even kind. Little by little you got used to being there, to sharing your existence with the lady of the castle and her daughters, who, on the contrary, didn't have much in common with their mother.

Crazy, free and unhinged, yes, that seemed like a correct statement for the three Dimitrescu sisters. Bela, Cassandra and Daniela were like mischievous agents of chaos who broke the harmony and elegance of that place.

After a year working in the castle, things improved before getting worse. One of the three sisters, Cassandra, seemed to have some interest in you. You never thought that those three creatures had interests beyond blood and chaos, but for a moment, you thought you were wrong.

She approached you, laughing evilly, looking at you while you did everyday chores. Habit made your body miss those eyes when they weren't looking at you, miss that laugh when there was only silence in the castle.

An "I like you", a slight blush on her cheeks and a quick kiss were the closest thing to a confession of love that came out of her lips.

Scared by her presence, and despite yourself, attracted, you let her lips kiss yours, you let your body experience what it was like to kiss chaos itself, and you liked it.

Little by little you began to feel that beyond the blood there was a heart beating desperately for your attention, that those looks and laughs were the expression and confirmation that even the daughters of a Lord were capable of love.

You lived happily for a while. Cassandra paid attention to you, all the maids began to respect you and even the lady of the castle granted you certain privileges for, according to her, having captured the interest of her daughter.

You were in a dream, in a fairy tale. You became a wandering smile that began to see the light at the end of her dark future. But it didn't take long for you to realize that fairy tales were just that, tales.

When you couldn't be more in love, Cassandra began to lose interest.  Maybe if you had opened your eyes earlier, you wouldn't be in that situation.

But your eyes needed to see what your intuition was saying, and so it happened. You saw that the suspicions your mind was screaming at you were true.

Cassandra said you were hers, she did, but she had no qualms about flirting with other maids, whispering in their ears, chasing them down the halls, and, of course, not being careful that you didn't see her.

You believed, she said, everyone thought that Cassandra Dimitrescu was your girlfriend, they really did, you really did.

But the concept of commitment and fidelity was far from the chaos inherent in the young Dimitrescu. Deep down you didn't consider that way of thinking as evil or bad-intentioned.

You knew that she didn't make you suffer on purpose, she was just like that.

You tried to bear it, not to look at the marks on the necks of other maids. You tried to ignore it, to forget that you were hers, but she would never be yours.

The pain became unbearable and the love you felt for her began to fade away.

At that moment, just when you thought your life would be a curse, that there was no other solution than to wait patiently for Cassandra to pay attention to you, you met Donna.

The first time your girlfriend asked you to take some supplies to the old estate you even thought of running away, of never coming back. That thought left your mind as soon as it arrived; you would gain nothing, and you would lose everything.

Instead, you decided to fulfill the errand and approach the old mansion.

The rest of the Lords weren’t a mystery, but shadows that you never really managed to see. Of all of them, the village especially feared the inhabitant of that old house, Lady Beneviento.

You knew what she was capable of doing, you knew that her mind was sick, seriously injured, and that she was dangerous, very dangerous. The villagers often said that they no longer feared nightmares but the lady in black.

That day you arrived there trembling with fear, only to find a woman dressed in mourning, a woman who hid her face with a black veil, a woman who didn’t speak, whose presence evoked the night and the darkness itself.

You completed your task with a kind gesture, which was answered with a soft nod and a sharp slam of the door.

Even with that brief encounter, your head began to wander, to wonder. While you were washing dishes, cleaning a hallway, or while Cassandra was taking you, you could only see that black figure and theorize what kind of creature was hiding behind that black veil.

Over time, it became increasingly difficult to get the lady out of your head, and everything got worse when those errands became frequent.

You were unable to find out anything about her, but the slamming of doors was no longer common. Instead, Donna remained silent, looking at you, as if she were studying you, as if she wanted to check that you didn’t want to hurt her.

That apparent vulnerability sparked much more interest on your part, and you began to talk, to ask, to address that stoic figure.

Little by little those conversations moved inside the mansion. Your almost childish insistence on communicating with the lady was clearly a cry for help, a cry to forget for a moment the place you had to return to, and it worked, it worked too well.

The doll stopped being her speaker and her lips uttered a word for the first time, almost a whisper, a melodic one, impregnated with a soft and attractive accent: your name.

It was impossible to resist staying a little longer, to listen to her hoarse voice a little longer, and you simply let it happen.

She offered you tea, listening to any nonsense you had to say and answering briefly but nodding with interest. You didn't know why you were so interesting to her, until you eventually realized how alone she had been all that time.

You couldn't deny that you began to feel, to notice something more inside your chest every time you approached her, every time her pale hands touched yours when she served you tea.

Without wanting to, but without stopping it, you were falling in love with the lady in black.

One day, a day of tea and chat like any other, that black veil fell. It was removed with a gentle movement of her hands. Donna trusted you. She wanted to show herself as she was because it was inevitable to deny that she also felt something for you.

Donna was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. Her face was not stained with blood, her lips were not painted black. Her only eye shone without that yellowish evil you saw in Cassandra's. She was a truly beautiful woman.

The scar that the will of the Gods left on her face was one of her most horrible fears, one of her greatest insecurities. Her revelation was also a plea, a vote of confidence, of knowing if those feelings were worth it, or if you would end up falling off the cliff like her family did.

Your answer, your only answer, was a kiss. A tender, desperate kiss, the sudden capture of her lips with yours.

Knowing the consequences of entering someone else's territory, Donna accepted that forbidden relationship, just like you.

You may have felt these visits as an escape valve from your hardships at first, but you refused to see it that way. No, Donna wasn’t an escape from a place you didn't want to be, she was the place you wanted to be.

Yes, she was sick, she was crazy, but she was loving and attentive too. She smiled, she listened to you, she hugged you, she caressed you, she loved you.

You saw in her everything that Cassandra didn't have. You began to believe that it was what you really deserved, that Donna was yours, and you were hers.

The furtive kisses and caresses didn't last long. Something inside Donna made her resemble her adoptive family: jealousy, possessiveness.

She wasn't jealous of the world, she wasn't jealous of anyone who looked at you, she knew where the root of her sometimes abrupt and erratic behavior was: Cassandra.

Feeling displaced made her feel frustrated and, after making another confession to you, she took you for the first time.

Her face wasn't the only thing the Gods changed. Her body did too, enough to make her even more self-conscious. For you it was never a problem, for her, your natural reaction and your slightly mischievous smile was one more reason to love you madly.

For the first time in your life, you didn't squeeze your eyes shut. You didn't feel the need to repress the pain of some unpleasant scratches on your bare skin. All you felt were soft caresses, playful tickles on your skin, kisses that ran over your lips while your bodies moved anxiously.

Cassandra was the first, or so you thought until that moment. In reality, the first woman who truly loved you was Donna.

She made you feel comfortable, she gave you more pleasure than you could ever have felt, she told you she loved you, she whispered it in your ear while she took you slowly, not wanting to hurt you.

At first you felt guilty, you cried on her bare chest after your first time. A few kisses didn't mean that much to you, but having Donna inside you, making love with her for the first time, knowing what it was really like to feel loved, broke one of your emotional barriers.

Donna comforted you. She didn't scold you for having ruined that moment, for you feeling remorse. She understood you.

Time kept passing and the visits kept increasing. Any excuse was good to melt into her arms, to make love calmly or wildly, to feel like you had never felt before and to forget that you would have to return to the castle, that those arms wouldn’t always protect you.

After walking through the snow, without even realizing it, you returned to the castle. All the thoughts about how you met Donna and your miserable life with Cassandra had made your return a simple formality.

“(Y/N), you're back,” one of your companions, Irina, said. She was your best friend for a long time. Now, she was just another maid. “The lady was getting worried.”

You rolled your eyes, closing the doors and taking off your coat.

The heat of that castle, one that at first seemed pleasant to you, was uncomfortable, oppressive, and even more so after that tense moment with Donna, a tension that was increasingly common in your visits.

“I'm sure you all were very worried,” you said ironically, glancing sideways at the red mark on her neck, one that indicated that Cassandra had passed by there, probably tired of waiting for you.

The girl noticed what you were looking at and quickly covered herself with an apologetic smile.

“(Y/N), I'm sorry, she came over and…” she began to explain, making you snort and shake your head.

No, you didn't need to know what your girlfriend had done with her in your absence. It would probably be Cassandra herself who would tell you if she got bored.

“Cut the crap, Irina, I'm not interested,” you said in a dark voice, pushing the girl away with your hand.

“Yes, of course,” the young woman nodded, with an absurd bow, as if you were something more than her, as if you were a maid who has to be respected.

How ironic, not even your girlfriend respected you.

“Oh, there you are, I thought you had gotten lost, dear,” a deep and sensual voice appeared behind you, freezing your steps: Alcina Dimitrescu, lady of the castle.

“My lady,” you murmured with an elegant gesture, fearing that running away to your room and crying wasn’t going to be possible.

“You've taken your time, my dear, have you had any problems with Donna?” the tall woman asked, putting a hand on your back to gently push you to walk beside her.

“No, my lady, she...” you said, stopping to think about an answer, one that wouldn't raise more questions.

To Alcina, the relationship that seemed to exist between her daughter and you was real, pure and sincere. You didn't quite understand why Cassandra pretended in front of her mother. Maybe she was afraid of her, or maybe she was trying to protect you. You didn't want to know.

“Mm?” Alcina murmured arching her eyebrows, urging you to give an answer you didn't have.

“Well, she's had a breakdown,” you said without thinking, blaming poor Donna, blaming her mental illness.

You felt horrible for doing it, but you had no other choice. You didn't know the consequences of your mistress finding out about your affair.

“Gods…” the lady in white whispered, shaking her head. “Poor woman.”

“Um, I decided to stay with her until she was calmer. I hope I didn't overstep my bounds, my lady,” you said in a formal tone, looking down at the wooden floor, with the images of the previous passion sending confusing signals to your head.

“Oh, not at all, dear,” the woman said, with a grateful smile. “I appreciate it.”

“Thank you, my lady,” you whispered, wanting to run, to insult yourself for having lied, for having accused the woman you loved of your delay. “Excuse me, my lady, I would like to retire to my room, I fear I have caught a cold,” you lied again, looking for any clumsy excuse to get away from her, from any Dimitrescu who got in your way.

“Of course, I wouldn’t forgive myself if you got sick, but... (Y/N), when you are done, I would like to ask you something,” the vampire said, walking faster, confirming that you had gotten what you wanted, to be alone.

“Fine, my lady.”

The bath you took was a blessing. The heat penetrated your body naturally and the water eliminated any remaining evidence of your infidelity.

Feeling the sweat leave you, how her kisses disappeared from your skin in the soapy water was more painful than other times. The lavender disappeared to impose on your skin the sweet aroma of the castle soap, making you forget every single sensation you felt when making love with your lover, her smell, the humidity of her home, the mark of her fingers caressing your skin…

Love, forget, serve, pretend, that was your daily routine. You could only do one thing: wait for the next week, long for Donna's hugs, for her body warming yours.

If you could bear the situation, it was because you knew you would return to her but… for how long? Was Donna right and one day you wouldn’t return?

The days passed slowly, too slowly. What Alcina wanted to ask of you was simple, but you were deeply grateful for it. She wanted you to have the privilege of tidying up the wine cellar, a place where no maid was allowed to enter. Of course, you weren't just any maid.

The task was especially pleasant. While you were down there, you wouldn't have to look askance at the necks of other maids looking for Cassandra's mark on them, and even better: she couldn't bother you.

It was too cold in that place for her to bear, which made your stay down there even comfortable.

But of course, what seemed like an advantage, a respite, a longed-for relief in your daily life, would bring unexpected consequences.

One night, in your privileged room, the atmosphere was heavy with uncertainty and a bad feeling prevented you from thinking about Donna, from longing for her.

“Wakey, wakey…” a shrill, yet whispering voice stalked your ear as a lump slid under the sheets.

The ferrous scent of those lips gave her away and her childish laughter confirmed your fears: Cassandra.

“W-what are you doing here?” you asked, startled by the intrusion, by some uncomfortable kisses that were beginning to run down your neck.

“What? (Y/N), I'm your girlfriend, remember? I've come to see you,” the young Dimitrescu said, sensually dragging her words while she moved the fabric of your pajamas aside to look for more places to play.

“Hey, I don't want to be rude but… why now? Didn't you say you wanted to have fun with other maids?” you asked delicately, without altering or removing her lips from your skin.

“Oh, don't be like that, silly, you know you're special,” Cassandra purred, pulling you a little closer to her.

Your heart was beating fast and your conscience was screaming to be heard.

You didn't know how much time had passed since she got into your bed, since she physically claimed you, but you knew it was enough to affirm that there was no kind of intimacy between you two, not anymore.

That lack of interest in having sex with you relieved Lady Beneviento. Knowing that you would never be physically hers again served as a consolation every time you had to leave. You promised her you would never sleep with Cassandra again.

Of course, to make that promise was a mistake. Chaos couldn’t be predicted, and you should have known that better than anyone.

“So you suddenly remembered that I exist?” you asked again, pushing her away, just as her teeth sank into your skin, making you hiss in pain. “I thought you weren't having fun with me anymore.”

“Don't be a whiner, (Y/N). I want to take you,” she said, climbing on top of your body, dominating you with kisses that weren't reciprocated, at least not voluntarily. “Hey! Why aren't you paying attention to me? Oh, you're not mad because I had fun with Irina, are you?”

“No, but…” you denied nervously, stopping her hands from scratching your skin under your pajamas while her hips moved anxiously. “Listen, Cass, I'm really tired and…”

“What's wrong? Has Mother made you work too much?” the young woman asked, it almost seemed like she cared about you.

“No, not at all, but I would prefer that…” you murmured, fleeing from her kisses and provoking a childish moan from the vampire.

“Hey, don't move! What are you doing? Are you rejecting me?” she asked impatiently, analyzing your gaze as if she could see behind it.

“No, I...” you said, containing the trembling of your body, the irrational fear that direct question and the answer your heart had produced in you.

Even though Donna was your lover and Cassandra was your girlfriend, you didn't feel infidelity in that way. Letting Cassandra take you was much worse than having sex with Donna. It was cheating on the only person who truly mattered to you.

Breaking your promise was for you the worst of deceptions, a betrayal of the doll maker's trust, a true infidelity.

But the pressure of those chaotic eyes looking at you, demanding answers, answers that would please her, made you forget any attempt to refuse and you simply sighed, staying silent.

“That's better, hun, hun,” the young Dimitrescu laughed, amused, breaking the straps of your nightgown with a quick movement and insisting on sucking, licking, biting your skin.

You closed your eyes so as not to see, but you couldn't help but feel. Every scratch, kiss or movement was terribly painful. She was having fun, but you only suffered, you could only think about Donna, that every second that passed, every hysterical moan that came out of Cassandra's lips, was one more stab in Donna's heart.

You could only act in that way, reciprocate, obey and let yourself go.

None of Cassandra's movements unleashed pleasure in you. Her kisses weren’t hot; they didn’t provoke sensations like Donna's did. Cassandra’s fingers inside you didn't feel like Donna’s erection sliding comfortably into your walls.

It was a rough act. You just wanted it to be over soon, for Cassandra to get what she wanted, and leave you alone.

Luckily, she didn't take long.

After noticing her absence, you ran to your private bathroom naked, looking at the marks your girlfriend left on your body, washing your hands, your face, everything her lips had touched. Unlike when you took a bath after seeing Donna, that time you hoped that the smell of blood and Cassandra's perfume would disappear from your skin.

You rubbed your arms, your neck, your lips, but it didn't disappear; she couldn't disappear from you.

Crying, you went back to bed, looking for a new nightgown to spend the night in, searching for some memories with Donna that would make you forget what you had done.

But that wasn't the worst. The worst thing was that the next morning you would have to go back to the Beneviento estate, you would have to see your lover.

You thought you had the strength to do it, to force her to close her eye while she made love to you and ignore the new details of your body.

You knew you couldn't do it, you just knew it.

“I've missed you...” Donna whispered when her arms protected you again, when her lips rested on yours again. “Tesoro...”

“Me too,” you answered, letting that romantic hug comfort your wounded conscience and make you forget what happened the night before. “Um, um... Donna...” you said unsure.

“Mm?” she asked, brushing your hair away from your face as she always did, smiling at having you in her arms again.

“I was thinking… that… that…” you stammered, deciding that maybe you should suppress your desires and not have sex, at least that day. “Well, the other day you told me that you wanted to play chess or teach me your recipes… how about now?”

“I thought that before…” she murmured, looking at you confused, blinking erratically. “I would like to make you mine first, tesoro.”

“Yes, well, I know, but it's that… well, it's that… I'm on those days, you know, and…” you lied without knowing how to do it, causing the lady in black to frown, suspicious of your words.

“Oh, you're talking about your period… I-I don't remember the last time I… well, I…” Donna hesitated nervously, with a slight blush on her cheeks, cheeks that you caressed amused.

“Don't be nervous, my love,” you joked, whispering in her ear, inevitably biting her earlobe. “Just think about it. It will be much better when I come back next week.”

“Mm.” She nodded unsurely, playing with your hair, with an air of disappointment in her eye. “Fine, let's do something different.”

“Good…” you said, sighing in relief, perhaps too relieved. “How about chess?” you proposed, clapping your hands in the air and approaching the corner where you used to have tea.

“Va bene,” the lady answered, smiling distrustfully.

“Hey! Chess? Come on! Let's play hide and seek!” Angie protested, comically tugging at your dress as you walked.

“Angie, lasciala estare,” her owner ordered, making the doll cross her arms with a snort.

“Hey! What happened to you?” Angie asked, pointing at you, pointing at your neck.

The puppet's tugs had shifted your uniform dangerously, revealing a red mark on your neck, one you wanted to hide.

“For Gods’ sake, Angie, shut up...” you growled, moving your clothes to hide the mark, something that of course didn't deter Donna from slowly approaching, removing the fabric again with a moan of shock.

“What's that?” she asked.

“What's what?” you asked back, nervous.

“I-it was her, wasn't it? She wasn't supposed to touch you anymore,” Donna murmured, clenching her fists on either side of her hips. “You promised me she wouldn't touch you anymore!”

You closed your eyes, feeling the pain of guilt, the sadness of a broken promise.

“Donna, it's not what it seems, I…”

“It's exactly what it seems, (Y/N),” she said, hissing, getting dangerously close to you and grabbing your arm tightly. “You fucked her.”

Vulgar words didn't usually come out of her mouth, Lady Beneviento was losing her mind, and that time, she was right.

“You don't understand, it's not what you think, I don't…”

“Lie to me again, come on,” Donna threatened, with a hatred in her gaze that made you shudder.

“What did you want me to do?” you protested, crossing your arms, letting a childish defensive attitude take over you. “Do you think I had another option?”

“There's always another option,” she added, shaking her head. “You told me that there was nothing physical between you two anymore.”

“You don't understand, Donna.”

“I don't understand? You've fucked her, you promised me that...”

“You think it's easy?! Huh?!” you yelled, frantic. “What right do you have to judge what I do? You don't know how things are.”

Donna laughed sarcastically, with her eye wide open and her knuckles white from the pressure.

“You're right, I don't know how things are, I don't know what happens when you leave, when you go with her,” the lady in black murmured, pointing at you with her finger, her breathing becoming more and more agitated. “But it's quite clear.”

She turned her back on you, but you grabbed her shoulder, which was pushed away with a grunt and a quick movement from the brunette. You desperately tried to reassure her, to make her understand that the night when Cassandra played with you didn't mean anything.

“Listen to me, Donna, please,” you said in a less brusque, more pleading tone. “It didn't mean anything, I didn't enjoy it, I didn't want to, I…”

“Shut up! Cazzo… shut up, shut up, shut up!” Donna shrieked as she kicked the floor furiously.

“Donna, you're scaring me,” you sighed, moving away from her little by little. “If you'd just let me explain…”

“I don't want to hear your explanations!” she shrieked again. “You've deceived me, you're a bitch.”

Anger and helplessness forced you to act irrationally, slapping the lady in black, causing a painful silence to reign in the old house.

“Shit, I…” you said regretfully, trying to get closer to her again. “I didn't mean to, I couldn't… Donna, I…”

The words tried to come out of your mouth, but you weren't successful, you had reached a dangerous limit, you were walking on the edge of a cliff, and the only hand that could save you was further away than ever.

Donna stared at you, mouth agape, with a hand on her cheek, without saying anything, transmitting all her hatred with a look, one that you would never, ever forget.

“Get out of my house,” the lady murmured, looking away from you while you looked at your hand, shaking your head. “Sei una bugiarda! I don't want to see you again!”

“Donna, please, listen to me, I beg you,” you pleaded, grabbing her shaking arm, being pushed away by a rough push that almost made you lose your balance.

“Don't touch me, bitch,” she hissed in an even darker voice. “You broke your promise... Get out of my house! Get out, get out, get out!”

“Donna, Gods...” you sobbed, shaking your head as she walked towards you threateningly.

It was the first time you were afraid of her, truly afraid.

“Donna, please...” you stammered, being grabbed by the arm and letting yourself be led towards the exit.

The lady pushed you, making you fall into the snow.

“Donna! Don't treat her like that! You're stupid, listen to her!” Angie protested, hiding behind a piece of furniture, avoiding the wrath of her owner.

“I thought we were something, that I was something to you,” the lady in black growled, with her hair moved by the winter wind, while you checked that you hadn't been hurt.

“You are, I, I love you...” you said with difficulty, shaking the snow off your body. “Donna, I love you.”

“Liar! Liar, liar, liar!” the lady screamed, stamping her feet again, out of her mind, completely mad, slamming the door shut with a thunderous noise that echoed in the mountains.

“Donna…” you sobbed, tears warming your cheeks.

Just as you expected, it was all over. You had broken your promise, you had condemned yourself to a life without Donna, without the only thing that kept you fighting, and it was all because of you, because of the fear of being brave, of confronting Cassandra, of asking the lady in black to take you in her arms, and rescue you.

That fleeting thought that maybe Donna would come for you, to fight for you, was the last hope that kept you going the following days, but she wasn't going, she wasn't there, there was only you, alone, with a woman who didn't love you, with the only one who did betrayed by your lies, by an infidelity that Donna wouldn't be able to forgive.

“Remember to label the wine correctly, (Y/N),” Alcina said, on one of the endless afternoons in the winery.

What was once a refuge became a prison, one in which you would be alone, far from Cassandra, but with your thoughts and regrets as your only company.

You were no longer the same. Your complexion had turned pale, dark circles adorned your sickly presence, since, at night, your only protection against your girlfriend was to keep the window open, to let the cold in.

Over time you became a ghost of what you were, the ghost of another ghost, a long and sad shadow that didn’t want to see the light if Donna was not next to you.

Alcina's soft voice caught your attention, but unfortunately you could only emit a sad sob. It was getting harder and harder for you to pretend, to act as if you hadn't lost anything, as if everything you wanted and needed was in that castle, and not behind the forest, in the old Beneviento Estate.

“Yes, my lady,” you murmured, earning a serious look from the lady in white, who left a bottle on the table, walking towards you slowly, threateningly.

“My dear... I can't help but feel that something is wrong with you,” she said in a low voice, putting a large hand on your shoulder, forcing you to hide the tear that was welling up in one of your eyes.

“No, my lady, everything is fine,”

No, nothing was fine. Without Donna, nothing would ever be fine.

“You lie terribly,” Alcina sighed shaking her head and pulling your wrist to bring you closer to her. “Gods, look at those dark circles under your eyes, you look awful, dear.”

“I'm sorry, my lady.”

“Tell me (Y/N), has Cassandra done something bad to you?” she asked, making you be alert again.

She had never asked such a thing, your nerves were about to explode.

“Of course not, my lady,” you answered with a false smile, which tightened her grip even more while she frowned, knowing, being convinced that, again, you were lying.

“You know I hate lies, young lady, now, you are going to dry your tears and tell me…”

“Sorry, my lady,” a saving voice appeared in the cellar, making the lady of the castle growl, making her finally let you go.

“Damn it, Olga, you know that you are completely forbidden to come down here,” Alcina protested, putting her hands on her hips.

“I'm sorry, my lady, but it's just that…” the girl apologized, looking down, with her hands shaking in front of her body.

“It's just that what!?” your mistress shouted, echoing off the old walls, causing you to automatically shrink.

“Lady Beneviento is here, my lady,” the maid explained, as best she could, with her voice trembling, just like her body.

Lady Beneviento. That name made you look up quickly, your eyes suddenly opened and you let out an involuntary gasp that caught Alcina's attention for a moment, making her look at you out of the corner of her eye.

“Donna,” you whispered.

Luckily, you managed to avoid your boss's inquisitive gaze by turning around and pretending to place the bottles correctly.

“Gods, why did it take you so long to say it? You are more and more useless every day,” the tall woman protested, rubbing her eyes with contempt.

“Sorry, my lady,” Olga apologized again, pointing to the stairs. “What do I do?”

“What?” Alcina insisted, with an arrogant tone. “Has she told you what she wants?”

“W-Well, her doll was talking about some unfinished business but…” the maid murmured, making you freeze in place.

Had she come for you? Would that be possible? No, it couldn't be, she hated you. She kicked you out of her house…

“Oh, I understand,” the lady in white sighed, with a soft laugh, but looking at you out of the corner of her eye again. “Always so shy… Gods, what does it cost her to call me to say that she wants to have dinner with me? Anyway, tell the others to prepare food for one more person.”

“Yes, my lady”

“And you… go for a dress, dear, we have visitors,” she said looking at you with a different sparkle in her eyes.

“My lady, I…” you said trembling, not wanting to face Donna, not wanting to be in her presence. Not in that castle, not where she would never be yours. “I would rather not disturb and…”

“Nonsense, you are family, dear. Go on, be good and put on something nice, I am convinced that Donna is very happy to see her… errand girl…” she said with her usual irony, one that you mistook for an accusation, making you feel guilty.

You had no choice but to obey, you couldn’t do anything else.

There, in the dining room, there she was: Donna, covered with her black veil, following you with her gaze while you sat in front of her, asking with your eyes, wanting to know the reason for her unexpected presence.

The Angie doll, unlike her owner, had no problem greeting you effusively.

“See, silly? We've come... Hey, what happened to you? You look like a ghost,” the puppet whispered to you in an indiscreet manner, but just before you could ask or speak, the three Dimitrescu sisters appeared next to their mother.

“Hello, hello...” Cassandra sang while the others politely greeted their aunt. “But what do we have here, my elusive girlfriend... It seems that you can't escape from me today, huh?”

As she spoke, your blood boiled more and more, her unconsented touch on your cheeks made you burn with pain, with shame, while she sat on your lap hastily, without the slightest decorum, kissing you passionately in front of your lover.

It couldn't be worse.

“Ahem, Cassandra, darling, show some decorum, will you?” Alcina corrected, causing the young woman to wink at you and stand up, letting you see how Donna tightly gripped her fork, and how Angie tried to soften the pressure.

You’d had awkward dinners, but that one, without a doubt, was the worst of all.

If it weren't for Alcina's pleasant chat with her sister, everything would be silent. You knew that Donna wasn't paying attention. She only saw how Cassandra made fun of you by feeding you dinner with evil laughter, or speaking to you in indiscreet whispers about what she was going to do to you as soon as Donna left.

The sound of a piece of cutlery falling to the floor interrupted that tense calm. Donna had dropped her spoon and you, as helpful as ever, bent down to pick it up under the table.

You discreetly handed her the fallen object, realizing that there was something in her hand, something she left in yours and that you squeezed tightly.

A note, or so it seemed. You didn't know what it contained, what it meant, whether it was an explanation, an apology, or an insult. You were dying to know, but you couldn't, not with Cassandra beside you.

Your brain worked very hard to ignore her non-consensual assault on your privacy, focusing on the best way to find out what that piece of paper contained.

Okay, the idea was stupid, but it was the best you could come up with given the circumstances.

“Oh, wow,” you said falsely, regretting having let the glass of wine spill on your formal dress.

You were a terrible actress.

“Excuse me, but I have to go to the bathroom,” you said hastily, abruptly removing Cassandra's hand from your leg and getting up from the table.

Nervous, you ran through the halls, pretending to wash yourself so as not to raise suspicions until, finally, you opened that paper.

I have come to fight for you, to take you home in my arms, amore mio.

I don’t want, nor can, live without you

I love you

You read it once, and again, and again. The smile lit up your dull face when you understood what Donna was doing in the castle.

At last, because of Angie or her own conscience, she had come to her senses. Donna had understood that you needed her, that you never wanted to hurt her.

It didn't mean that she had forgiven you for having cheating on her, but it was a written proof of what she felt for you. She would not give up easily and she had found the courage to fight for you, even risking invading Cassandra's territory.

“Oh, Donna...” you whispered, pressing the note to your chest. “Donna, Donna, Donna…”

The sound of distant footsteps brought you out of your euphoria. Was it her? Could you finally love her, really be hers?

“Donna?” you asked out loud, getting the echo of your voice as an answer.

“Mm, no,  wrong,” a mocking voice said, one you knew, one that made you quickly put the note in your pocket. “Are you blind?”

“Cass, I…” you said as you saw your girlfriend licking her lips, coming closer while laughing, like a predator stalking its prey.

“If you wanted to see me, you didn’t have to stain that pretty dress.”

“It was an accident,” you lied, moving away from claws that were going straight for your waist. “We should go back.”

“Why the rush? It was a very lucky accident, don't you think?” she purred, forcing you to crash against the wall, with no option to escape. “Mother and the others are busy with Aunt Donna, so... well, you and I can play...”

Her tongue on your neck burned like a hot iron. The love you felt for Donna forced you to feel disgust for your girlfriend's actions. No, she wasn't going to get what she wanted that time, not when you were so close to getting the life you deserved, a life with Donna.

“No,” you said in a whisper, opening your eyes and standing firm.

“Excuse me?” Cassandra questioned, as if you had said something extraordinary, something she never thought she would hear from your lips.

“I said… No!” you screamed, pushing your girlfriend back, forcing her to step back sharply with her eyes wide open.

“What!?” she screamed angrily. “What do you mean by no? Listen, you silly girl, you are my girlfriend and…”

“No, not anymore,” you hissed. “I'm sick of you… of you making fun of me every day. It's over…”

“Why do you say those mean things to me? You don't have to… You can't say those things to me!” Cassandra yelled kicking the ground angrily, like a capricious child.

“It's over, Cassandra,” you said confidently, holding the note tightly in your hands, gaining all the courage you never thought you had.  “You are a spoiled, pampered and capricious brat… you think you have the right to play with people, with their feelings… well, I'll tell you one thing… You won’t play with me anymore!” you said furiously, trembling with fear, but without faltering.

“How dare you…” the young Dimitrescu hissed in a dangerous tone, her gaze darkening more and more. “Well, I've been very patient with you, pet. Do you think I don't know that you leave your window open to avoid me, to laugh at me? You can't avoid me! You're my girlfriend! You're mine!”

“I'll never be yours!” you shouted back, with all your strength.

Those words were too much for the young woman, who approached roughly grabbing you by the collar of your dress, almost lifting you into the air.

“You're going to pay for it, pet… You're going to…!” she shrieked, raising her hand, about to punish you for your insolence.

Something prevented her from completing her action, a pale hand wrapped around her wrist, preventing her from moving, Donna’s hand.

The lady in black appeared to save you, pushing your now ex-girlfriend away from you with a furious growl.

“Donna!” you sobbed in the middle of a desperate cry.

“What are you doing? Stay out of this, Aunt Donna,” Cassandra said surprised, to which your lover paid no attention, walking quickly towards you and cupping your face in her hands.

“Tesoro... are you okay? Did she hurt you?” the lady whispered, checking your condition while you clung to her, shedding a sea of ​​tears on her shoulder.

“I'm fine, I'm fine because you came... you came for me...” you said sobbing, finding the comfort you so lacked, the pleasant warmth of her arms.

“Of course I came... Oddio... I'm so sorry... I behaved like a fool...” she whispered in your ear, melting into you in a sincere, strong, safe embrace.

“Hey! What's going on here?” Cassandra asked, with a disgusted look at you. “What the hell…? Oh, no, it can't be true…”

“Get away from her, I won't repeat it,” Donna threatened, placing you behind her body in a protective gesture.

“You? Are you trying to snatch what's mine? Mother!” the young woman shouted, moving nervously and trying to grab you again. “You bitch… you've been cheating on me! Now you'll really pay for this and…!”

The lady in black moved quickly, pushing the young Dimitrescu aside and slapping her with a blow that left everything silent, lost in the echo of the walls.

“But, but…” Cassandra protested, incredulous at what had just happened. “You hit me!”

The sound of fast heels alerted you. Of course, that commotion alerted the lady of the castle, who was running towards you, causing a sinister smile to appear on Cassandra's wounded face.

“Mother, mother, come, come!” her daughter shrieked with childish satisfaction, pointing at you. “Aunt Donna hit me.”

Alcina looked at you briefly, studying the arms that held you, your tears, with a cold face.

“Now you are going to pay for what you have done... you are going to... Ah!” Another slap crossed the young vampire's face, but it wasn’t Donna's, but her own mother's. “Mother?”

“You stupid spoiled brat...” Alcina hissed, with her teeth grinding, with a visceral hatred towards her own daughter. “How dare you treat a girl like that?”

“What? But, but, but she…” Cassandra protested, embarrassed and terrified.

“Oh, come on, do you think I'm stupid? I know perfectly well what you were doing to poor (Y/N). Tell me, girl, what have I done wrong with you? Haven’t I educated you on how to treat ladies?”

“But…”

“Silence!” Dimitrescu shrieked, making you shrink even further into the arms of your lover, who remained stoic, ready to protect you. “Gods… (Y/N), are you okay?” she asked in a motherly tone, but visibly upset.

You simply nodded, moving away from the hand that rested on your shoulder.

“Mother, it's not fair,” Cassandra protested, with tears in her eyes, tugging at her mother's dress.

“Shut your mouth and get out of my sight! It's clear that you need new lessons… Until then, you're grounded! Go away!” the matriarch shrieked, pointing down the hallway, where the young woman, turned into a tangle of flies, fled in terror.

The tall woman sighed and seemed to calm down, turning her gaze towards you and sighing exhaustedly.

“Donna, how disappointing…” she said in a kind but accusatory tone. “I must confess that I never imagined that you, of all people, would be capable of such a thing…”

The lady in black didn’t respond, she simply hugged you tighter. She wasn’t going to let you go, she would never let you go again.

“And you…” the lady in white said. “Oh, my dear… how could you? Cheating on my daughter with Donna… no, no, no, that is not right, my dear…”

“My lady, I…” you stammered as best you could, with a sore throat, with your heart about to explode.

“Shut up,” Alcina ordered you. “You are fired. Take your things and get out of my castle… Oh, and Donna, I'm sure you won't waste the chance to have a maid like her, will you?”

You both looked at each other. You didn't know if Donna was smiling, but you were; your face regained its full brightness when you realized what was happening.

Alcina wasn't firing you, she was setting you free, allowing you, and Donna, to form the life together you dreamed of so much. It was all too good to be true; you even feared it was just a dream.

But as you left the castle in her arms, in Donna's arms, as she promised you, knowing that you wouldn't come back, that you would finally be free to be with her, you realized that it wasn't a dream, but reality, a reality you finally wanted to be in.

[skzdelf]

Now That We Dont Talk | Hwang Hyunjin

⭑ PAIRING: Hwang Hyujin x fem!reader

⭑ CONTENT: angst; ex-boyfriend!hyunjin uni au (based in taylor swift lyrics from the song “now that we don’t talk”)

⭑ SYNOPSIS: After a sudden breakup, university life goes on, but Hyunjin and you start to realize that distancing yourselves doesn’t always mean letting go of your feelings.

⭑ WORDCOUNT: 1,1k (1145)

I had to let him go, to move on with my life even if it hurt, even if it was hard to let go after everything we’d been through together.

After all, we don’t talk anymore.

But going on as if nothing had happened was difficult, especially with our friend groups being so interconnected. Anywhere I went, I ran the risk of seeing him, and it would be impossible not to remember everything.

The night before, there had been a party at the frat house—a party I chose not to attend. To my friends, I didn’t go because I had a headache, but the truth was I was scared of running into him, of facing him and not knowing how to react.

I heard from everybody the next day that Hyunjin had gone to the party. People parted as he walked by, as if he were splitting the Red Sea.

Had he been anxious to see if I’d show up?

Did he wonder why I wasn’t there?

Did he worry about me on his way home?

I guess those are questions I’ll never know the answers to—because we don’t talk anymore.

They said your hair was longer, shinier, and wavier than ever. You presented a whole new, radiant image of yourself. From the outside, it seemed like you were moving on, as if nothing had happened.

I was so glad I didn’t see you.

I miss everything about you. I miss our old routines, I miss the old you, our sweet nicknames, and our late-night outings. You didn’t have to change.

But I have no way of telling you any of that—nothing would come out of my mouth. I’d just stand there, speechless, like a statue about to crumble. But it doesn’t matter, because we don’t talk anymore.

The day we broke up, I called my mom. She said it was for the best. My tears wouldn’t stop falling; I didn’t want to let you go.

But I kept giving you more of myself, and it felt like you wanted me less. I don’t know if my feelings started to overwhelm you, but I no longer felt reciprocated, loved.

Everything reminds me of you—every song, every hallway in the university where we walked hand in hand. Every corner seemed to hold a piece of the story we once were.

I was walking, staring at the floor of the deserted university hallways, lost in thoughts of what we could have been, when I bumped into someone heading the opposite way.

To keep me from falling, the other person grabbed my arm, pulling me close to their warm, comforting chest.

“S-sorry, I wasn’t looking…” The words hung in the air as I looked up to see my “savior.”

It was true, everything they said about you—you looked so handsome. Your hair now brushed your shoulders, your features were serious, but you were glowing like never before. In front of me stood a Hyunjin I hadn’t seen look this dazzling since our first months together.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. Are you alright?” he responded, his dark eyes locked onto mine. How could he hold my gaze after everything?

If I kept looking at him, if he kept touching me, I might melt right there in the hallway, so I pulled away from his grip, fixing my gaze on the lockers to my right.

“Yeah, thanks,” I replied shortly, dryly—a response I’d never imagined giving him, not when we were friends, let alone when we were together.

But no matter how much he wanted it, I couldn’t be his friend, and now I was paying the price for what I’d lost, despite holding onto it with all I had.

The many wounds on my heart wouldn’t let me be his friend.

“Please, look at me,” he said in a choked tone, releasing a sigh, almost like a lament, as if he regretted everything that had happened to bring us to this moment.

Would you tell your friends you were begging me just to look at you?

I looked him over from head to toe. On his finger, he still wore the rose-shaped ring I’d once given him.

Looking at his face again, his new look, new piercings in his ears—still as attractive as ever, but farther away than ever.

I couldn’t pretend this was platonic anymore because we were simply over—there was nothing left.

“I don’t like us being like this. I really wish we could be friends,” he said, giving me a closed-lip smile that I couldn’t return.

I couldn’t be his friend because friends aren’t supposed to have feelings for each other. Friends wouldn’t want to be near you all the time, to tell you how happy their heart feels just when you smile at them, touch them.

Tears of sadness welled in my eyes, and I blinked rapidly to try to make them disappear as quickly as possible. I didn’t want him to see me like this after only two weeks of being apart.

“I-I have to go, Hyunjin. I’m s-sorry.” I fled from that hallway, with his voice echoing my name in every corner, asking me to stop.

I had to remind myself of the way you drifted away until I left, until my heart couldn’t take your cold attitude anymore, until there was nothing left to break.

And it infuriated me to still love you after you tore me apart until I was ashes you then wanted to mold into a friendship.

I can’t be your friend, I won’t be your friend. I’m paying the price of losing you, of losing my heart, and how hard it is to stay standing now that you’re not by my side, now that we don’t talk.

It’s true that I no longer need to pretend to like the things you used to enjoy. But I have to admit, acid rock is a part of me now because of you.

I know I’ll become the strong girl you once knew again—a girl with a heart full of love to give, a girl who never expected such indifference from someone who once promised to give her the moon.

I guess maybe I’m better off now that we don’t talk.

The only path to regain my dignity became a mystery, wrapped up like you were when you pursued me.

When you chased me out of love, and when you chased me today in the deserted hallway, begging for friendship because you still wanted me in your life somehow.

It’s a mystery to me what Hyunjin felt or wanted from me after I left, because I could no longer read him like before. But I guess things have to be this way, now that we don’t talk.

Nowadays that I ignore your presence around me, now that I’ve blocked your number, now that at least I can look you in the eyes.

A/N: dividers are not mine!!

[owlwithanapple]

Life is change

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Y/N 🥰

♥️♥️♥️ I love the character Ghost very much. I want him to be happy and have a different life. A happy marriage, family and love. If you like it, please reblog my fanfiction. You are also welcome to give me comments to motivate me to write more and more exciting works. 🖤🖤🖤

Ghost and you have been married for over few years and have always had a very harmonious relationship. Unexpectedly, had a quarrel. Because had a fight about work and he acted rashly to save Gaz. You ran away from home in a rage and went back to your brother Soap Mactavish's house. “Soap! I’m gonna stay here for a while.”

Soap was sitting down on his couch reading a newspaper when he suddenly heard the loud banging on the front door. He quickly placed the paper down on his coffee table then got up off the couch and approached the front door before opening it. Standing there was you in an obviously annoyed state. Soap chuckled slightly before looking at you with a small smirk. “Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes. What's wrong? You look pissed.”

“Your fucking teammate Lieutenant Simon Ghost Riley has pissed me. Last operation with Gaz, he acted rashly to saved Gaz.”

Soap sighed heavily as he listened to your explanation, not being surprised to heard that Ghost acted rashly and was being an idiot. Soap said as he shook his head and then placed a hand on his forehead before looking back at you. “Of course he did...that idiot. So that's why you’re here? Because of some argument between you and Ghost?”

“Yup. I’m angry, that’s why I’m here.”

Soap chuckled softly then stepped to the side, allowing you to come in. He said with a smirk, which caused you to give him a look. He shrugged it off and began to walk over to the couch, sat down and then gestured for you to sit down to. “Well you’re welcome to stay for as long as you want. Just don't let me hear any complaining while you’re here. So how angry are you at Ghost then? On a scale of 1 to 10.”

“Hmph! He doesn’t care about me and my feelings. Keep doing rashly things. He’s saving Gaz and hit by bullet. I was angry and about to explode.”

Soap chuckled softly as he listened to your complaints. He knew that Ghost's tendency to act rashly would inevitably cause a reaction out of you. Soap could practically hear Ghost's voice in his head saying I can take care of myself. Soap shaking his head as he leaned back onto the couch. “I can only imagine how hard it must be to hold yourself back from blowing up every time he does something stupid. But you still love him though, right?”

“Hmph! But…He doesn’t even call me or find me! That’s shitty skull mask husband!”

Soap chuckled softly at your insult toward Ghost, finding the nickname that shitty skull mask husband to be an amusing as he let out a sigh. He said before taking a pause then looking at you again. “Yeah I don't think Ghost is smart enough to do that. He's not really one to apologize for anything either. That man is dense as hell. But I still think you love him, don't you? I know you do.”

“Hmph! Of course I do. I just don’t want him reckless.”

Soap smiled slightly as he heard your words before letting out a deep sigh and leaning his head back onto the couch. “Ghost doesn't know any other way to work. He's the type to throw himself into life-threatening situations and come out of them uninjured. I'm surprised he hasn't suffered any major injury all these years of service.”

Soap said before looking at you again, his expression becoming more serious. “Just try to remember that he's doing all of it to keep other people safe. That includes yourself.”

“I don’t care others, I care my fucking husband. I’m a medic, you know how hurt my heart especially I patching my skull husband?”

Soap let out a heavy sigh and nodded his head, understanding how you felt. “I know how you feel. I feel like Ghost is gonna give me a heart attack everytime he risks his life. But I've known him for many years, so I know he'll always be able to get out of trouble.”

He paused for a few moments before looking you in the eyes. “But Ghost isn't just your husband, he's a soldier first. He has to prioritize his duties over his personal life.”

“Tch, don’t remind me that. I just want to complaint about my skull face husband.”

Soap smiled slightly at your response before letting out another sigh, realizing that nothing he said was really gonna make any difference. “Trust me, I know you're worried about Ghost. I am too, everytime he goes out on a mission, I sit by the phone wondering if he's coming back this time. But I know he will.”

He looked at you then patted you on the shoulder. “Ghost probably is feeling bad right now you know, even if he'll never admit it.”

“Hmph! I watched the tv first. Bye, Soap.”

Soap chuckled as he heard you before waving you off. “Alright, I'm gonna make some lunch later if you want any. Just hollar.”

He said before you began to walk away, his expression turning slightly more serious again as he muttered to himself. “That idiot Ghost better not have gotten himself in trouble this time.”

Soap was busy cooking lunch in the kitchen, suddenly heard the sound of the front door being opened. He paused for a moment listened to the sound of footsteps entering the house. “That must be-"

His thoughts were cut off when he saw Ghost enter the kitchen, still wearing his black tactical gear. Soap's expression hardened slightly at the sight of him. “Speak of the devil.”

Ghost didn't say anything at first, his expression as blank and unreadable as always underneath the mask. He took a few more steps into the kitchen before finally speaking in his familiar raspy voice. “Soap.”

Soap nodded his head in acknowledgment before taking a closer look at him, noticing the various injuries he had sustained. “You really did it this time, didn't you? Looks like you took a beating.”

Ghost shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, as if the injuries he had received were nothing serious, and replied with a dry tone. “I've had worse.”

Soap rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelief, knowing that Ghost had a tendency to downplay the severity of his injuries. “Of course you have. But this time you've done a good job pissing off her. I don't think I've ever seen her so angry before.”

Ghost's body stiffened at the mention of you, and for a moment, Soap could see a hint of guilt in his eyes. But it was quickly replaced by his usual emotionless mask. “She's angry with me?”

Soap raised an eyebrow at his response, surprised that he was even asking that question. “Yeah, she's beyond angry. She came over here earlier, ranting and raving about how you're not caring about her feelings and how you always act rashly during missions.”

Ghost's expression remained unreadable, but Soap could tell that the words were getting to him. He let out a heavy sigh and spoke, his voice slightly strained. “She doesn't understand the work we do.”

Soap shook his head and let out a snort of derision. “She's a medic, dumbass. She understands better than you think. She's just worried about you.”

Ghost let out a scoff of disbelief, feeling insulted by Soap's words. He crossed his arms over his chest and spoke in a defiant tone. “She worries too much.”

Soap rolled his eyes and shook his head once again, not surprised by Ghost's lack of insight. “You know that's what happens when you marry someone. They worry about you because they care about you.”

You heard their conversation, you cleared your throat and clenched the fist then approached to interrupt them. “No need to persuade him, Soap. He doesn't need to know, and he doesn't want to know.”

Soap and Ghost both turned to look at you as you interrupted them, Soap looked slightly surprised while Ghost's expression remained as blank and unreadable as ever. Soap took a step back and raised his hands slightly in a placating gesture. “Y/N, I was just-“

Ghost interrupted him and took a step forward, his voice still lacking in any emotion. “You're here.”

“Of course I’m here. My brother’s home. A home that I stayed before I married.”

Soap nodded his head and looked between the pair of you, sensing the tension in the air. He took a step back and leaned against the counter. Ghost's expression remained blank, but Soap could see a hint of guilt flickering in his eyes as he spoke. “You're angry with me.”

It wasn't a question, more of a statement. You rolled your eyes and responded with a sharp tone. “Of course I'm angry with you. You're always acting rashly and putting yourself in danger without even thinking about how it affects me.”

Ghost's jaw clenched at your words, his expression still blank but you could see the frustration building within him. He let out a scoff and spoke in a defiant tone. “You don't understand. My job is dangerous. It's what I do.”

Soap shook his head and spoke up once again, trying to diffuse the situation. “She knows that, Ghost. She's just worried about you.”

Ghost turned to Soap and snapped back, his voice rising in volume. “I don't need anyone worrying about me. I can take care of myself.”

“I just don’t understand why my husband wants to push me away? I’m a medic and I know the risks. But…it’s my fault that I worry my husband more? Tell me, Simon. I beg you.”

Ghost let out another heavy sigh and shook his head, his expression still conflicted. “It's not your fault for worrying. That's the natural response someone has when they care about someone else.”

He took a step forward and reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder gently. “But I don't want to be the reason you're worried all the time. I don't want you to constantly be worrying about me getting hurt or killed on the field.”

“Simon. Listen carefully, I’m your fucking wife. I’m the person who says I do when you proposal to me. So I fucking definitely will worrying about you, even you just accidentally cut your finger!”

Ghost chuckled softly at your words, his usual blank expression softening into a small smirk under his mask. “You're a stubborn one, aren't you?”

He took a step forward until he was standing directly in front of you. He placed both his hands on your shoulders and spoke in a quieter voice. “I know you'll worry about me. I can't stop you from doing that. And I know you'll be there to patch me up if I get hurt.”

“That’s right, because I’m a fucking medic.”

Ghost chuckled softly again and nodded his head in agreement. He paused for a moment and then spoke again, a hint of playfulness in his voice. “Yeah, you're a damn good medic. You've saved my life more times than I can count. But you're also a damn good wife.”

“Hmph. So you know I’m not just a medic, also your wife. I thought I’m just a statue.”

Ghost nodded his head and a small smirk appeared on his face. “Yeah, I know you're more than just a medic. You're my wife. My partner. The one person who's always there for me, no matter what.”

He took a step closer to you and spoke in a quieter voice, the tone of his voice changing to a more serious one. “And I know that I don't deserve you, but I'm thankful to have you. I'm still grateful for the day you said I do.”

You could feel your heart rate increasing as he spoke, his words making you feel slightly flustered. Soap cleared his throat from the side, reminding you of their presence. You blushed slightly and turned to look at Soap, who was watching the two of you with a sly smile on his face. Soap chuckled and spoke up, his tone teasing. “Looks like the lovebirds are getting all cozy over here.”

You rolled your eyes ignoring your brother then stepped closer to him and placed a hand on his masked cheek, feeling the rough material brush against your palm. Took a deep breath, still feeling the anger and worry in heart. “I married you because I love you, Simon. But it's because I love you that I worry about you all the time. I can't help it. You're my fucking husband.”

Ghost's expression softened even more as you placed your hand on his cheek, the rough fabric of his mask against your palm. He closed his eyes for a moment and let out a soft sigh before opening them again, looking into your eyes.

He placed a hand on your waist, pulling you closer to him. He paused for a moment before speaking again, his voice quieter this time. “I know you worry about me. And I know it's because you love me. But I can't help worrying about you too.”

You could feel his breath on your face as he spoke, the closeness between you both causing a mixture of emotions to swirl within you. On one hand, you were still angry and upset with him for his reckless behavior. But on the other hand, you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and security in his presence.

Soap cleared his throat once again, interrupting the intimate moment between you and Ghost. “Alright, lovebirds. I get the feeling I'm the third wheel over here.”

“Tch. Fine. Alright alright. Can’t let my lovely brother ignore by us.”

Soap chuckled softly at your words, shaking his head in amusement. “Don't worry about me. I'm used to being the third wheel around here.”

Ghost rolled his eyes under his mask at Soap's comment, but didn't say anything. He was too focused and concerned about you. Soap leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest, a small smirk on his face. “So, you two lovebirds figure things out yet?”

“Um…I think so. I’m not angry anymore..”

Soap nodded his head and looked between the two of you, noticing the change in the atmosphere between you and Ghost. “Good, I'm glad you're not angry anymore.”

Ghost remained silent and let out a soft sigh, relieved that you weren't angry anymore. He kept his hand on your waist, holding you close. Soap spoke up again, his tone somewhat amused. “So, lovebirds, you gonna make out in front of me or what?”

Ghost's grip on your waist tightened slightly and he let out a scoff under his mask, clearly amused by Soap's words as well. “You wish, Soap.”

Soap chuckled and held his hands up playfully in mock surrender. “Hey, can you blame a guy for asking? It's not every day you see a cute couple like you two getting all romantic.”

You rolled your eyes at Soap's comment and swat him playfully, trying to hide the slight flush on your cheeks. “Jeez, come on, Simon. Let’s go home.”

Ghost nodded his head in agreement, seemingly grateful for an excuse to get out of the situation with Soap. “Yeah, let's get out of here.”

He kept his hand on your waist and guided you toward the door, giving a dismissive wave to Soap. “See you later, Soap.”

Soap chuckled and watched the two of you head out the door, a smirk on his face. “Later, lovebirds.”

As Ghost and you stepped outside, the cool evening air hit your face, providing a sense of relaxation. Ghost's hand remained on your waist, guiding you toward a black SUV parked nearby. He opened the passenger door and gestured for you to get in, his voice still gruff but with a hint of tenderness. “Get in. I'll drive.”

“Tch, isn't it me who's driving? Alright, I don't want to scratch your car again.”

Ghost let out a soft chuckle, his tone slightly amused as he remembered the time you accidentally scratched his car. “Right, I remember that. You're lucky I didn't make you pay for the repairs.”

He closed the passenger door once you had settled in, then made his way to the driver's seat. As he was about to get in, he paused for a moment and looked at you. “Remember, no loud music this time. I don't need my eardrums blown out again.”

“Tch. Fine. Hm…ocean background music. Satisfied?”

Ghost nodded his head in acknowledgment as he started the car, the engine purring to life. “Sure, ocean background music is fine. As long as it's not too loud.”

He began to drive, maneuvering the car through the streets with practiced ease. The streetlights cast a warm glow on his face, illuminating the sharp angles of his jaw and the slight tilt of his head. “You know, you're the only person I let touch this car.”

“Good. That’s my privilege I want.”

He continued to drive, his focus mostly on the road ahead. The tension from earlier in the day had faded, replaced by a comfortable silence between the two of you. Ghost chuckled softly at your words, his expression still mostly hidden under his mask but his eyes betraying a hint of amusement. “Yeah, well, don't get too used to it. You've already scratched it once.”

“Hey, that’s was an accident. I was too panicked at reverse parking then boom. You scold me that time. And I feel like, oh ~ my lovely husband is not loving me anymore ~ I’m so sad.”

Ghost rolled his eyes under his mask, knowing you were only teasing him, and played along with your little game. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You're a terrible driver and you should never be allowed behind the wheel of a car again.”

He paused for a moment and then continued in a more playful tone. “And don't act so dramatic. I scolded you because you scratched my car, not because I don't love you anymore. Idiot.”

“Hmph! Now I’m idiot, not lovely wife anymore.”

Ghost let out a soft sigh and shook his head in mock irritation. “You know I was just messing with you. You're still my lovely wife, even if you're a terrible driver and an idiot sometimes.”

He glanced over at you and saw the teasing glint in your eyes, knowing that you were just having fun. “But seriously, don't scratch my car again. I'll make you walk everywhere if you do.”

“Suddenly I felt I had reason to file for divorce.”

Ghost feigned a look of shock, his eyes going wide under his mask. He was clearly playing along with your teasing, enjoying your playful banter. He reached over and poked you gently in the side, his touch playful. “You wouldn't dare. Don't even think about it. You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

“Then let me drive, I want to scratch it.”

Ghost let out a scoff and shook his head, his tone still playful but slightly incredulous. “Absolutely not. You are not touching the wheel. I don't want to end up in a ditch somewhere because of your crappy driving.”

He continued to drive, his eyes focused on the road, but a small smirk played at the corner of his mouth. “Nice try, though. I know how much you enjoy pushing my buttons.”

“Oops, you found me.” You chuckled playfully.

Ghost chuckled softly, his amusement clear in his voice. He paused for a moment and then continued in a more serious tone. “Oh, I know you well enough by now to know when you're trying to stir trouble. But seriously, no driving for you. Stick to being a passenger princess.”

“Alright alright. Please call me Princess Mactavish. Hm~if you huh, Knight Riley.”

Ghost chuckled at your request, his tone somewhat amused. “Princess Mactavish and Knight Riley, huh? Sounds like a fairy tale.”

He reached over and gently patted your head, playing along with your little game. “And what requests does the princess have for her knight?”

“Hm~kiss me a lot and love me forever.” You blurted out happily.

Ghost chuckled softly at your request, the sound warm and affectionate. “Ah, the easiest request to fulfill.”

He took his hand off the steering wheel for a moment and reached over, gently taking your hand in his. He brought it up to his mask and planted a soft kiss on the top of your hand, his eyes meeting yours through the mask. “I promise to love you forever, Princess Mactavish.”

You felt a wave of happiness wash over you at his words, your heart swelling with love and affection. You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, grateful for his promise. “And I promise to love you forever, too, Knight Riley."

Ghost felt a warm feeling spread through his chest at your words, his heart filling with a deep sense of comfort and contentment. He tightened his grip on your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze in return. “Good. Because I don't plan on letting you go anywhere.”

He paused for a moment and then continued in a more playful tone. “And if any pesky princes try to steal you away, I may have to fight them off.”

“Oh wow~ such a great knight.”

Ghost chuckled softly and shrugged his shoulders slightly, his tone playful. He turned his attention back to the road for a moment before continuing. “What can I say? I'm a man of many talents. Protecting my lovely wife from pesky princes is just another one of them. Besides, you're mine, and I'm not planning on sharing you with anyone.”

“Thanks, my lovely husband.”

Ghost chuckled softly at your words and smiled gently under his mask. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze again, his touch gentle and affectionate. “You're welcome, my lovely wife. And I won't let anyone take you away from me.”

You nodded your head in acknowledgment, knowing that he was possessive but also feeling a shiver went down your spine. The tone in his voice was always a mix of affection and command. It was like he was making sure I knew exactly where you belong. And the last sentence was almost a warning. “Yeah, I know you don't.”

You could hear the finality in his voice, no room for argument. And you couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and comfort from his possessive yet caring demeanor.

The drive continued in silence for a moment, the only noise being the hum of the engine and the occasional passing cars. Then, Ghost spoke again, his tone shifting slightly. “You know, there's one thing I've been meaning to ask you.”

“What is it?” You curious about what he said.

Ghost paused for a moment, his expression remaining mostly hidden under his mask. However, his eyes gave away a hint of anticipation. “We've been married for quite some time now. And... there's something we haven't done.”

“Hm? Like what?” You kinda nervous. Wonder he’s thinking the same thing like you.

Ghost took a deep breath before speaking, his tone carefully neutral, though you could sense a hint of anticipation in his words. He paused for a moment, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. “I've been thinking about it for a while, and I feel like it's something we should talk about as a couple. Have you ever thought about... having children?”

“Huh?! Really?! You sure?! I thought you’re not interested in this kind of thing.”

Ghost chuckled softly at your shocked response, his mask not showing any other expression. “Yeah, I mean it. I've been thinking about it lately. And I know I may not have ever shown much interest in the idea, but lately, I've been feeling different.”

He paused for a moment, his tone growing serious. “I want to be honest with you. I used to think that having a family wasn't really in the cards for me, given my job and the dangerous lifestyle I lead. But now, I've been reconsidering.”

He took a deep breath and continued, his voice quieter this time. “I've realized that maybe I want something more than just endless missions and bloodshed. And the thought of having a family, of being a father...it's something new to me.”

He reached over and placed a hand on your knee, his touch gentle and careful. “What do you think, love?”

Suddenly you realized that he had this idea. You always thought he didn't want children. Both of you knew how dangerous each other's duties was, but lives took a big turn after you two fell in love and got married. At this moment you realized that you two would face new challenges. You took out phone from pocket to check some of your private data such as ovulation and menstrual period. “Do you busy tonight? We can try this week….no condom….”

Ghost's eyes widened under his mask at your words, his expression a mix of surprise and arousal. He hadn't expected you to bring up the idea so quickly. He nodded his head, his grip on your knee tightening slightly. “Yeah, tonight, I'm all yours.”

He couldn't help the slight huskiness in his voice, the thought of starting a family with you now more tantalizing than ever. “You've checked your cycle?”

“Yup. I am. I think this week will hit the jackpot.”

Ghost's eyes darkened with desire at your words, his mind racing with thoughts of starting a family with you. He took a deep breath to steady himself, his body already reacting to your words. He aid gruffly, his tone a mix of excitement and anticipation. “Alright then. Let's do it.”

His hand on your knee gripped you just a little harder, his touch possessive and needy. “And I promise to be very thorough tonight.”

The rest of the car ride was full of tension, both of you unable to hide your excitement about what was to come. It was as if the air around you was charged with electricity, building up the anticipation exponentially. As the car pulled into the driveway of your house, Ghost shut off the engine, the sudden silence in the cabin making the tension even more palpable. He turned to look at you, his eyes burning with desire. “Come on, love. Let's take this inside.”

Ghost got out of the car and walked around to your side, opening the door for you. He took your hand and helped you out, his grip firm and possessive. As you walked towards the house, he couldn't help but steal glances at you, the mere thought of the night to come making his heart race with excitement and anticipation. Once you were both inside, he closed the door behind you with a quiet click and immediately pushed you up against the wall, his body pressing against yours.

“Take off your mask, I’m not gonna fuck with you while looking at that skull mask tonight.”

Ghost chuckled softly at your request, his tone teasing. He pulled the mask off, revealing his sharp jawline and rugged handsome face. His eyes were dark with desire, and his lips curved into a small smirk. “Is that more to your taste, love?”

“Yup. No more Lieutenant Ghost, only Simon Riley and my lovely husband.”

Ghost's expression softened slightly at your words, his tone a little more affectionate. He said, his fingers tracing gently along your cheek. “Only Simon for you, love. Your lovely husband, Simon.”

He leaned in closer, his body pressing even tighter against yours, his proximity making your heart race. “I plan to show you just how much I love you tonight.”

The heat between you was palpable as he continued to kiss your neck, his touch growing more urgent with each passing moment. His hands roamed your body, one resting on your hip and the other gently caressing the sensitive skin of your stomach. It was a teasing touch, one that both aroused you and drove you insane with anticipation. He leaned in closer and whispered huskily in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “Are you ready, love?”

“Ha—yes. I’m ready.” You moan softly.

Ghost chuckled softly at your readiness, his tone thick with desire. His hands gripping your hips as he began to guide you towards the bedroom. The air was electric with anticipation as he led you into the room, his eyes never leaving your body. Once you were inside, he closed the door behind you, shutting out the outside world. The bedroom was lit by soft, flickering candlelight, creating a sensual atmosphere.

Ghost walked you over to the bed and gently pushed you down, guiding you to lie on your back. He stood over you, his eyes roaming over your body with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. He began to undress, his moves slow and deliberate, giving you a full view of his toned, muscular body. As he pulled off his shirt, baring his chest, he noticed your gaze lingering on him. A cocky smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Like what you see?”

“Oh my fucking Simon, that’s definitely awesome.” You teased him.

Ghost chuckled at your reaction, his smirk growing even cockier. He could see the desire in your eyes, and he knew he had you exactly where he wanted you. He climbed onto the bed, straddling you and pinning you beneath him. His hands traced over your body, his touch both gentle and possessive at the same time.

Ghost's smirk grew wider as he continued to touch your body, his hands mapping out every curve and contour. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, his voice a low, sinful rumble. His lips grazed your neck, his teeth nipping gently at your sensitive skin before moving down to your collarbone. “Good. Because I plan on using every inch of it to pleasure you tonight.”

“You better do it. My lovely husband.”

Ghost let out a soft growl at your words, and his hand gripped your hip a bit tighter, the possessive gesture making your heart race. He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above yours, his proximity making your body ache with desire. “Are you ready for me?”

“Yup. I’m ready.” You pressed a kiss on his lips.

He claimed your mouth with a kiss, his tongue delving inside, tasting and exploring every inch of you. It was a kiss that was both demanding and possessive, a reminder of just who you belonged to. Ghost's hands roamed your body, his touch both gentle and possessive as he explored, his fingers tracing a path of fire across your skin. He broke the kiss, his lips moving down to your neck, leaving a trail of biting kisses along your sensitive skin.

He continued to kiss and bite your neck, hands gripping your hips, his touch both possessive and gentle. He moved down to your shoulder, his lips leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses along the way. His body was pressed against yours, the feel of his muscular chest and stomach against your skin making your body ache with desire. He lifted his head again, his eyes dark and burning with lust.

“I love you, Simon.” You moan softly and said.

Ghost's expression softened slightly at your words, his tone becoming more affectionate. He leaned in and captured your lips in a slow, tender kiss, his mouth worshipping yours. His hands caressed your body, his touch both gentle and possessive. “I love you too, love. My lovely wife.”

The times flew away and the sun was setting on the sky. Ghost stirred from sleep, his eyes heavy as he slowly awoke. He blinked a few times, adjusting to the soft light of the early morning sunlight filtering through the curtains. He shifted his weight on the bed, his body still feeling the aftereffects of a long, passionate night with you. He turned his head to look at you, a contented smile on his lips at the sight of you still asleep beside him.

“Mm…mhm. Morning….” You mumbling softly.

Ghost chuckled softly at your groggy response, his smile growing. He stroked your hair again, his hand gentle as he caressed your scalp. “Good morning, love. How'd you sleep?”

“Good, it’s so fucking wonderful.” You yawned and leaned forward to press a kiss on his lips.

Ghost smiled again at your response, his heart warming at the sight of you still half-asleep and rumpled from the night before. He reached out and ran a hand down your bare back, his touch both possessive and gentle. “Did I wear you out last night?”

“A little. But it’s a great moment.” You nuzzled him.

Ghost chuckled softly at your words, his touch growing firmer as he continued to run his hand down your back. His voice dropping an octave lower. “You were pretty spectacular yourself last night, love.”

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder, his lips lingering on your skin. “Ready for a shower, my lovely wife?”

“Do you mind carrying me? My legs are sore. Yesterday night ride you, my muscles are numb.”

Ghost chuckled at your request, his expression both amused and affectionate. “Of course I don’t mind.”

He slid out of bed and picked you up in one easy motion, supporting you in his arms as he carried you towards the bathroom. He teased lightly, his arms holding you securely. “You really wore yourself out last night, oh my lovely wife.”

“You’re a soldier, I’m a medic. Don’t expect a medic’s stamina can win over you. Oh! So tell me, my lovely husband. Our first baby you wish it’s a boy or girl?” You pecking his cheek and asking him.

Ghost paused for a moment, his expression growing thoughtful as he considered your question. “I don’t really care. I know this might sound cheesy, but all I really want is a healthy baby – a chance to start a family with you.”

He looked at you, his eyes warm and affectionate. “But if you’re asking my preference, then I guess I wouldn’t mind a little girl with your eyes and your stubbornness.”

“Holy shit. A skull mask lieutenant with a baby girl. Little princess’s daddy huh.”

Ghost chuckled at your words, the image you painted obviously amusing to him. He stepped closer to you, his hands coming to rest on your hips again. He said with a hint of sarcasm. “Yeah, the Lieutenant, the big bad boogeyman of the 141, reduced to being a daddy of a cute little princess.”

You chuckled then pressed his lips with a kiss. Ghost responded to your kiss, his arms tightening around you as he deepened it. His mouth claimed yours in a kiss that was both possessive and demanding, his tongue exploring and tasting you with a hunger that betrayed his need for you. One of his hands moved to the back of your head, holding you in place as he angled your head for better access, his other hand pressing firmly against the small of your back, holding your body flush against his.

The next few month, you were as busy as usual at the Task 141 base. At lunchtime, you took the tray and went to pick out the food. Suddenly felt unwell had the urge to vomit. You immediately threw away the tray, covered mouth and ran into the toilet to vomit.

Ghost was in the commissary when he noticed your sudden change in demeanor. He saw the expression on your face, the way you suddenly went pale, and knew something was wrong. Without a second thought, he was on his feet and moving in your direction, following as you rushed towards the bathroom. He was there waiting by the time you reached the toilet, concern written all over his face. “Love. Are you alright?”

“Fucking hell…today is already third time.” You washed your face and wiped it with handkerchiefs.

Then realization dawned on him. He remembered the signs, the sudden nausea, your paler than usual complexion. He knelt down beside you, his hand moving to gently brush the hair back from your face. He trailed off, his voice barely above a whisper. “Is it…is it possible that you’re…?”

“Eh? You mean that thing?” You tilted your head pointed your stomach.

Ghost nodded silently, his gaze locked on your face. The thought had crossed his mind before, but he had pushed it aside, not wanting to get his hopes up. But now, seeing you in this condition, it seemed like more than just a possibility. He reached out and took one of your hands in his, his touch gentle and possessive. “Have you... Have you taken a test?”

“Not yet…I'll go to the infirmary to get tested. You go to training first, I'll let you know if there's any news.”

Ghost was reluctant to let you go, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. He had a protective streak in him a mile wide, and the idea of you being unwell and him not being there for you made him uneasy. But he knew you were strong, capable, the badass medic he knew and loved. He nodded reluctantly. “Alright. But you promise to let me know as soon as you know something, alright? Don’t keep me waiting.”

“Roger, Lieutenant Ghost.” You salute playfully.

You went back to the infirmary and dug out a few pregnancy test sticks that you had prepared earlier. You held them tightly and began to doubt yourself. Could it really work this time? You ran into the toilet and started testing, waiting for the results of the pregnancy test sticks.

Your hands trembled slightly as you clutched the test sticks, your heart thudding in your chest. This was it. The moment you had been hoping for, praying for, for so long. The minutes ticked by, each agonizingly slow second feeling like an eternity. Finally, you couldn’t wait any longer, couldn’t bear the anticipation any longer. With trembling fingers, you picked up the first test stick and waited for the result.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you watched the test stick, the wait excruciating. And then, almost as if in slow motion, the results started to appear. Positive. Your eyes widened, your heart nearly stopped. A wave of emotions washed over you, relief, joy, disbelief, excitement. Tears welled up in your eyes as you grabbed the second test stick with trembling hands.

And again, positive. The same result. No mistaking it, no denying it. You were pregnant. You clutched the test sticks to your chest, overwhelmed by the magnitude of the moment. You were filled with a fierce sense of protectiveness, a fierce love for the tiny life growing inside you. You had to find Ghost. You had to tell him. “Fucking hell…finally. God damn it. Took us so long. Finally Ghost can be a father…”

You could barely control your emotions as you raced through the base, your thoughts racing just as fast as your legs. You couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and disbelief, your heart swelling with joy. You had waited for this moment for so long, and now that it was here, it felt surreal. You finally reached the training ground, scanning the area for Ghost. And then you spotted him, his broad shoulders and strong presence immediately catching your eye.

You also saw Price standing next to him talking about something. You walked forward holding the pregnancy test stick hidden behind you , and you cleared your throat to attract their attention.

Ghost's head whipped around as soon as he heard the sound of your cough, his face immediately lighting up when he saw you approaching. But the way you were holding your hand behind your back, the secretive expression on your face, made him curious. And he could tell something was up. He turned towards you, his expression a mix of curiosity and something that looked an awful lot like hope. “What’s that you’ve got there, love?”

Price turned, too, his eyebrows furrowing as he noticed the same secretiveness that Ghost did. A faint smirk played on his lips, as if he was already guessing what was going on. “What are you hiding, medic?”

“Something happened. I’m pregnant. We really did succeed this time, Ghost.” You blurted out.

Ghost’s expression immediately softened, a look of almost disbelieving joy spreading across his face. His eyes widened, and for a moment, he seemed speechless. He took a step towards you, his arms reaching out to pull you into a tight embrace. “You’re pregnant? Really? My lovely wife pregnant?”

Price, standing nearby, let out a loud whoop, a huge grin on his face. He teased, poking Ghost in the shoulder. “Finally, eh, Ghost?”

Ghost pulled back slightly, his gaze fixated on the test sticks you held out to him. His fingers trembled as he gently took them from your hand, his expression filled with a mixture of awe and disbelief. He turned them over in his hands, his eyes scanning the results, as if he was afraid he was dreaming.

Price stepped closer, peering over Ghost’s shoulder at the test sticks. His voice filled with both doubt but more of excitement. “Damn, you’re not pulling my leg, are you?"

“Fucking hell. We really succeeded this time! Ghost!”

Ghost set the test sticks down and pulled you into his arms, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around in a tight, overjoyed embrace. He held you against him, his body trembling with emotion. He rasped, his voice filled with wonder and awe. “We did it! We did it, love. You're carrying our child."

Price chuckled, watching the two of you with a grin on his face. “Looks like the 141 is getting a new recruit.”

“Seriously? Captain, a baby you want to recruit too?!”

Price chuckled heartily, his eyes shining with amusement at your words. He paused, then gave a wink. His voice playful. “Imagine the possibilities. Tiny recruits, following orders in their little uniform...”

“Sounds like chaos. But…I guess 141 will have headaches, don’t mind my pregnancy symptoms.”

Ghost chuckled, his arms still around you, holding you close. “Don't worry, love. I'll handle any headaches, and I'll take care of you and the little one.”

Price joined in again, his tone still teasing. He said, nodding sagely. “Us seasoned 141 members can handle anything. Including pregnant medics.”

“Hahahaha. Thanks. So, my lovely husband Ghost. New adventures are coming soon.”

Ghost's expression softened even more, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity. He held you tight, his arms encircling you protectively as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Indeed. New adventures, new challenges. But we'll face them together. You and me, and our little one.”

Price, standing nearby, couldn’t help but add his own two cents. “Hahahah. Better start getting used to less sleep, Ghost.”

Ghost rolled his eyes at Price's words, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. He said sarcastically. “Thanks for the reminder, Captain. As if I wasn't already preparing for a lifetime of sleepless nights.”

Price chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter. He said, his tone mock-serious. “Just warning you, son. Babies are noisy. And they never sleep when you do.”

“Hahaha. Alright alright, guys. Don’t say anything negative that will make me regret having a baby.” Ghost and Price exchanged glances after your words, their expressions immediately sobering.

Ghost shook his head vehemently. He said firmly, his voice filled with conviction. “No regrets. Not a single one. This is a blessing, love. Our little miracle.”

Price nodded in agreement, his expression serious. “Ghost is right. This is a wonderful thing you're doing. Bringing life into the world...it's the most important job there is.”

“Hahaha. Guess my responsibility increased when I had a baby. Oh! Soap definitely will happy! His nephew or niece is coming.”

Soap appeared as if on cue, sauntering into the conversation with a cocky grin on his face. He drawled, his Scottish accent thick and unapologetic. “Did I hear my name?”

Price chuckled, turning to Soap. He said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Your ears are still sharp, son. Speaking of which, you have some news to hear.”

“Hwah! Jeez! Oh, since my lovely brother is here. Ghost and I have something to tell you.”

Price couldn't help but chuckle at Soap's eagerness. Soap's ears perked up at Ghost's words, his expression going from cocky to curious. He asked, his voice tinged with excitement. “Oh yeah? What’s this important news you’re sharing with me, Ghost?”

Ghost took a deep breath, his eyes meeting Soap's. His voice filled with a mix of awe and wonder. “We’re having a baby.”

Soap's eyes widened in shock, his mouth falling open. He stood there speechless for a moment, as if trying to process the news. And then, his face broke out into a huge grin, his eyes sparkling with joy and excitement. He exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine happiness. “Are you serious? That’s amazing news!”

“Yup. We have a baby, you will be uncle soon.” You pointed at your stomach and laughed.

Soap's grin widened even more, his face lighting up with happiness. He exclaimed, his voice brimming with excitement. “I'm going to be an uncle? Bloody hell, that's brilliant!”

He turned to Ghost and clasped him on the shoulder, his grip tight. He said, his tone filled with genuine enthusiasm. “Congratulations, mate! You’re gonna be a dad!”

Ghost nodded, his expression softened by a genuine smile. His voice filled with gratitude. “Thanks, Soap. I'm still trying to wrap my head around it myself.”

Price, standing nearby, chuckled at the reaction from Soap, his eyes filled with amusement. He said, his tone lighthearted. “Looks like this 141 family is expanding. I wonder how the little one will handle all the excitement around here.”

Nine months later, your voice of pain and crying could be heard in the delivery room because the baby was being born. Ghost paced back and forth outside the delivery room, his heart pounding with anticipation and a mixture of excitement and nervousness. He could hear your voice, filled with pain and exertion, and he wanted nothing more than to be by your side, to hold your hand and offer whatever comfort he could.

Soap stood nearby, his expression a mix of anxiety and excitement. He clasped Ghost on the shoulder, trying to offer some reassurance. “It’ll be fine, mate. Just a few more hours, and you’ll be holding your little one in your arms.”

Ghost nodded, trying to take deep breaths to steady himself. The wait was excruciating, and he couldn't help but worry about you and the baby. He knew childbirth was difficult, knew it was painful, and he wanted to do anything he could to ease your suffering.

Price standing nearby, couldn't help but chime in as well, his tone filled with his usual sarcasm. He said, a smirk on his face. “Hang in there, Ghost. You're in for a world of chaos now.”

Finally, your voice had quieted down a lot, and a baby girl's cry came from the delivery room. You collapsed on the hospital bed, holding your newborn baby girl in your arms. You were very tired and at a loss as to how to comfort her. You felt so helpless that couldn't help crying with her. “Nonono…Freya…what should I do..?”

Ghost rushed into the room, his heart pounding with worry and excitement. He saw you, exhausted and overwhelmed, holding your newborn baby girl in your arms, tears streaming down your face.

He crossed the room in a heartbeat, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside you. He reached out a trembling hand, gently stroking your hair, trying to soothe you. He whispered, his voice soft and comforting. “Shhh...it’s okay. Don’t cry, love. You’re doing great.”

“I don’t know how to do? Freya kept crying…”

Ghost's expression softened, his heart swelling with love and concern for you. He gently took the baby from your arms, cradling her against his chest. He said, his voice soft and soothing. “It's alright. Babies cry. It's the only way they can communicate.”

He slowly rocked the baby back and forth, gently shushing her, his touch tender and caring. He repeated, rocking her gently. “Shhh...it’s okay. Daddy’s here. Daddy’s here…”

The baby gradually calmed, her crying diminishing to soft hiccups and gurgles. Ghost smiled, his expression filled with a mixture of wonder and amazement. “See? It just takes a bit of patience and some gentle shushing.”

Price and Soap stood nearby, their own expressions filled with a mix of amusement and affection. Soap teased, a cheeky grin on his face. “Who knew the mighty Ghost would be a natural at this dad thing.”

You’re still crying after you feel the pain and loss. After the baby girl stopped crying, you wiped away your tears and catch the breath again. Ghost’s attention shifted back to you, his expression filled with concern and love. He could see the tears streaming down your face, the exhaustion and pain you were experiencing.

He carefully handed the baby to Soap, who held her with a look of wonder on his face, and turned back to you. He sat back down beside you, taking your hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. “You did great, love. You brought a beautiful little girl into this world. You were amazing.”

You couldn't bear it anymore, you threw yourself into his arms and cried. The pain of pregnancy and the helplessness of the baby's cry almost made you despair. Ghost wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, his touch gentle and comforting.

He could feel your body trembling, the tears soaking his shirt, and his heart ached with sympathy and understanding. He held you tight, rocking you slowly from side to side, his voice soft in your ear. “You’re okay. You’re okay. You did great, love. You did great.”

“Thanks…Simon. I’m scared when Freya crying.”

Ghost's expression softened, understanding your fear and helplessness. He held you tighter, his grip strong and reassuring. His voice tender. “It’s alright to be scared, love. Being a parent is frightening. But you don’t have to be scared alone. I’m here for you, and so is Soap and Price. We’re family. We’ll figure this parenting thing out together.”

“I know…but I’m still panicked when she cried.”

Ghost caressed your cheek gently, his touch gentle and soothing. He could see the worry and exhaustion in your eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to ease your mind. “Don’t worry. You’re doing great. You brought a beautiful baby girl into the world. And we’ll figure everything out together.”

He pulled you closer, holding you tight against him, his warmth enveloping you like a comforting blanket. “We’re in this together, love. Me and you.”

Price and Soap watched the exchange between you and Ghost with knowing grins. They could see the love and affection between you, and they were both happy to see their comrades finding such contentment and happiness. Price, in his gruff way, chimed in with a sly comment. “Alright, you two lovebirds. Get a room.”

“Oh come on! I’m just finished, give me a break.”

Price chuckled, his expression filled with devilish amusement. He teased. “Ah, come on. You can't blame me for being envious. Ghost gets to be a dad now, and I'm still stuck as the old, grumpy Captain.”

Soap chuckled at Price's comment, unable to resist joining in the banter. Soap chimed in, his tono mock serious. “Don't worry, Captain. You can be the fun uncle. Spoil the kid rotten and give them sweets before bedtime.”

“My lovely brother, hand over my daughter.”

Soap grinned, his expression filled with mock indignation. He protested, his tone light and playful. “Ah, little sister, I thought I could hold my niece for a bit longer?”

Price chuckled, shaking his head at Soap's antics. He said, patting Soap on the shoulder. “Alright, alright, give the girl her daughter back.”

Soap reluctantly handed the baby back to you, his expression filled with a mixture of reluctance and affection. You stroked her cheek and smiled. “Hey, Freya. Mommy’s here…”

Your baby girl looked up at you with wide eyes, her expression curious and innocent. She gurgled softly, her little hands reaching out towards you. Ghost watched the scene with a heart filled with love and affection. Seeing you holding your baby girl, the bond between mother and child so strong and immediate, made his heart swell with pride and joy.

He stood by your side, his hand resting gently on your shoulder, watching as you cooed to your baby girl, your voice filled with love and tenderness. Soap and Price stood nearby, their expressions softened by the scene unfolding in front of them. Soap had a warm smile on his face, and even Price had a hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

Soap couldn't help but chime in, his tone filled with affectionate teasing. “Look at you, little sis. Already a natural at this mom thing.”

Six years later, late one night, at Ghost's home. Ghost hasn't come back from the base yet, Freya and you are the only ones left at home. You are sleeping in the upstairs bedroom, and Freya suddenly woke up in the downstairs bedroom. Ghost quietly entered the house, closing the front door behind him with a soft click. He was just returning from the base, still clad in his tactical gear and balaclava.

As he walked towards the living room, he heard the sound of soft footsteps coming down the stairs. He looked up and saw his little girl, Freya, standing at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes wide with surprise as she saw him in his balaclava for the first time.

Ghost froze, his heart skipping a beat as he saw the fear and confusion etched on his little girl's face. He hadn't expected her to wake up at this late hour. He quickly realized that he must have looked intimidating to her, with his face covered and his body in tactical gear. He took a slow step towards her, his voice soft and gentle. “Hey, sweetie. It's just me, daddy.”

But Freya backed away, her eyes still wide with fear, her little body trembling. She had never seen her dad looking like this before, and the sight of him was clearly unsettling her. Ghost felt a pang of worry and concern in his chest. He knew he had to find a way to reassure her, to show her that he was still her dad, despite his appearance. He crouched down, making himself smaller and less intimidating.

You are sleeping soundly when suddenly heard a loud cry and scream. It was Freya. You opened the drawer, took out a gun and loaded it, then ran to downstairs. As soon as you got downstairs, Freya ran to hide behind you, hugged your legs and cried. You pointed your gun forward without hesitation. “You son of bitch—eh?! Simon?!”

Ghost held up his hands in surprise, his balaclava still covering his face. He looked at the gun in your hand, then at Freya hiding behind you, her little arms wrapped tightly around your legs. He said, his voice low and urgent. “Love, put the gun down. It's just me. I just came back from the base.”

“Shit. Oh, sorry. I thought someone kidnapped Freya. Jeez, I’m glad that I didn’t pulled the trigger or else your head would be hurt. I’ll put down the gun.”

Ghost watched as you slowly lowered the gun, your hand trembling slightly. He could see the realization and relief washing over your face, as you finally recognized him. He took another step closer, his expression gentle and reassuring. “It's alright. There was no need to shoot me.”

He looked down at Freya, who was still hiding behind you, her little arms wrapped tightly around your legs. You coaxed your daughter gently. “Freya, he’s not gonna hurt you. Daddy is here, he’s just covering his face because his work.”

Freya peaked her head out from behind you, her eyes locked on Ghost's masked face. She looked scared and uncertain, her little body still trembling.

Ghost crouched down to her level, trying to make himself smaller and less intimidating. He slowly reached up and pulled the balaclava off his face, revealing his familiar features. “See? It's just me, sweetie. It's just daddy.”

Freya's eyes widened as she saw her dad's face, her confusion giving way to recognition. The fear slowly faded from her expression, replaced by relief and comfort. She hesitated for a moment, still clinging to your leg, before slowly letting go and taking a tentative step towards Ghost.

Ghost held out his hand to her, his expression warm and encouraging. “Come here, sweetie.”

Freya hesitantly stepped forward, her little hand reaching out towards Ghost's hand. He took her hand in his, his grip gentle and reassuring. He guided her towards him, sitting down on the floor as he pulled her into his lap. “Daddy's here. There's no need to be scared.”

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close against his chest. Freya buried her face in his chest, her little body trembling with lingering fear and surprise. Ghost held her close, rubbing her back gently, trying to soothe her. He could feel her heartbeat slowly returning to normal, the tension in her body easing as she felt the safety and warmth of his embrace.

“Well, first experience Freya with your mask on.” You couldn’t help it and teasing him playfully.

Ghost chuckled softly, his expression filled with fondness. He said, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. “Yeah, I suppose it was a bit of a shocker for her.”

He looked down at his daughter, who was still clinging to him tightly, her face buried in his chest. He joked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “It seems like maybe I should start wearing my mask around the house more often.”

“Jeez. Fucking nononono. No, I can’t kiss your sexy lips, and Freya can’t clinging you.” You pinched his cheek, your voice tone like warning.

Ghost chuckled again, amused by your reaction. He said, his voice teasing. “Well, I wouldn't want to sacrifice the kissing or the cuddling.”

He looked down at his daughter, who was still clinging to him, her arms wrapped around his neck. “And I suppose this little one wouldn't appreciate it if daddy was always covered up either. She needs to see my handsome face sometimes.”

You couldn't help but chuckle at his words, your own expression softening at the sight of Ghost holding his daughter so gently in his arms. “Yeah, I don't think she'd like it very much if she couldn't see her daddy's face all the time either.”

Ghost looked up at you, his expression warm and affectionate. He asked, his voice low and playful. “And you, love? Would you miss my handsome face if I kept the balaclava on more often?”

“Hahaha. I’m not gonna asked you to take it off. I’m just gonna kick your ass and ripped the balaclava out. Oh! Freya, you okay now?”

Freya had finally stopped crying, her little sobs turning into hiccups as she slowly calmed down. She lifted her head from her dad's chest, her tears still staining her cheeks. She looked up at you, her expression a mix of fear and confusion, before looking back at Ghost. She said in a small voice. “Daddy?”

Ghost smiled gently at her, his expression softening. He replied, his voice gentle and warm. “Yes, sweetie?”

Freya's little hand reached up to touch his face, her expression filled with awe and curiosity. She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “You're not a bad guy?”

Ghost's expression turned solemn, his heart filling with sadness at her words. He knew she had been scared of him when she saw him in his balaclava, and he understood why. He shook his head softly, his voice tender. “No, sweetie. I'm not a bad guy. I'm your daddy.”

“Freya, it’s your daddy, truly.” You continue coaxing her, you pressed a kiss on Freya’s forehead then Simon’s cheek.

Freya looked up at you, her little hand still touching Ghost's cheek. She seemed to be processing what you had said, trying to make sense of the situation.

Ghost looked at her, his expression filled with tenderness and love. He reached up to gently grab her little hand, holding it in his much larger one. He placed a gentle kiss on her small fingers. “It's true, sweetie. I am your daddy, and I would never hurt you.”

Freya looked at him, her expression still etched with a hint of fear and confusion. But slowly, she seemed to be softening, her little body relaxing in his arms.

She looked down at their hands, her small fingers clutching his tightly. She asked, her voice a small whisper. “Promise?”

Ghost's expression turned gentle and reassuring. He took her little chin in his hand, tilting her face up towards his. He said, his voice filled with conviction. “I promise, sweetie. I will always protect you and keep you safe. I will never, ever hurt you.”

“Ahem. Sorry for interrupting this moment. By the way, Little Freya Riley. I thought you’re sleeping? Why did you suddenly wake up?”

Ghost looked at his daughter, his expression filled with curiosity. Freya looked sheepish, her little face blushing as she looked down at her feet. She fidgeted with the hem of her pajama top, her voice small and hesitant. She mumbled, her words barely audible. “I had a bad dream.”

“Hm. Understood. Well…daddy is back today. Do you want to sleep together with us?”

Freya looked up at you, her eyes lighting up at the suggestion. She nodded eagerly, her little body still clinging to Ghost's. She replied, her voice filled with anticipation. “Yes, I want.”

Ghost chuckled, his expression softening as he looked at his little girl. He stood up, holding her close to his chest. He said, his tone affectionate. “Alright, sweetie. Let's go get you settled in bed.”

“Uh huh. Love. You shower first, take off your gear. This is home, not the war zone.” You mentioned.

Ghost chuckled at your words, his expression amused. “Aye, love. I'll go take a shower, and then I'll join you both in bed.”

He looked down at his daughter, who was still clinging to him. He could feel her little body trembling slightly, the remnants of fear from earlier still lingering. “You gonna be okay with mom for a bit, sweetie?”

“Of course she’s okay with me. She’s my daughter.”

Ghost chuckled at your response, his expression filled with affection. He said, his voice soft and warm. “I know, love. I just wanted to make sure she was alright.”

He looked down at Freya, who was looking up at him with wide, trusting eyes. He kissed the top of her head, his expression filled with love and tenderness. he asked, his voice gentle. “Be a good girl for mommy, okay?”

Freya nodded, her expression serious and determined. She replied, her voice firm. “I will, daddy.”

Ghost smiled at her, his expression filled with pride. He knew his little girl was strong and brave, just like her mother. “That's my girl. Alright, love. I'll be back soon.”

You picked up Freya, kissed her on the forehead. Then you approached Simon, you covered Freya’s eyes to shield her sight. You leaned closer to him and pressed a deep kiss lingering for a moment. After, you took her upstairs to your bedroom.

Ghost watched as you picked up their daughter, his expression amused and touched by your gesture. He chuckled softly as you covered her eyes before you leaned in and kissed him. He felt a warmth spread through his chest at the familiar sensation of your lips against his, the taste of you still as sweet as he remembered.

He watched as you took Freya upstairs, his expression softening as he saw his little girl clinging to you. He knew she was in good hands, and he would be with you shortly. Ghost stood there for a moment, his heart full and his thoughts swirling with affection for you and his daughter. He could hear your voices coming from upstairs, your soothing tone as you spoke to Freya, and her little giggles in response.

He took a deep breath, letting the tension and adrenaline from his mission release from his body. He knew he could finally relax, knowing that he was home with his family. He finally turned and walked towards the bathroom, ready to take a long and much-needed shower.

“Since daddy is showering, my little Freya come give mommy a good night kiss kiss?” Your cheeks nuzzling her cheeks as you want your daughter little kiss.

Freya's eyes lit up at your request, her little face breaking into a wide smile. She exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement. “Kiss kiss!”

She wriggled out of your arms, her little legs wobbling slightly as she stood on her own. She took a few steps towards you, her expression filled with anticipation. She leaned forward, her little hands bracing on your shoulders for support, and planted a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

You pressed a kiss on her forehead. Then opened the bedroom door and settled Freya on the bed. You’re laying down beside her and covered you two with the blanket. You gently patted her to coax her sleeping.

Freya snuggled up against you, her little body tucked firmly under the covers. She closed her eyes, her expression finally relaxed and content. She wrapped her little arms around your waist, her grip loose and comfortable. She nuzzled her face against your chest, her breathing soft and steady.

As you continued to gently pat her back, you could feel her body growing heavier with each passing moment, a sure sign that she was falling into a peaceful slumber. You continued to hum the lullaby, the soft sound filling the room and creating a peaceful atmosphere. You could feel your own eyelids growing heavy, your body relaxing as you watched over your sleeping daughter.

Her little face was so peaceful and content, her expression soft and free of worry. Her little chest rose and fell with each breath, her soft, golden locks framing her delicate features. You couldn't help but smile, feeling so much love and protectiveness for this little girl who was now almost sound asleep in your arms. “Good night, my little girl.” You kiss her cheeks.

You laid there for a moment, just holding her, not wanting to disturb her peaceful slumber. Every now and then, a tiny sigh would escape her lips, and her little limbs would twitch slightly, but otherwise she remained completely still. You could hear the faint sound of water running in the bathroom, signifying that Ghost was still in the shower.

You gently poked Freya's cheek. She was completely asleep. You quietly left the bed and went to the bathroom. You opened the door and saw your naked husband drying himself after taking a shower. You take off your clothes completely naked. You wrapped your arms around him. Slowly your left hand slipped down to his down part jerking off his hot dick and whispered. “Do you want it before bed?”

Ghost's eyes widen in surprise as you suddenly appeared behind him, completely naked. His body shivered as your arms wrap around him, pulling him close. He felt your hand slowly traveling down his body, and he couldn't help but let out a small gasp as you begin to touch him, your touch soft and teasing. He looked back at you, his expression a mix of surprise and excitement. “Oh, love. You're insatiable.”

Ghost turned around, his expression intense as he looked down at you, his eyes dark with desire. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him, his body pressed against yours. He could feel the heat radiating off your body, and it only served to heighten his desire. “We have a little one asleep in the next room.”

“You were out on a mission with 141 for two weeks, and we didn't do it during that time. I had my needs. Don't you want to do it now?”

Ghost couldn't deny the truth in your words. It had been two long weeks since he had been away on a mission with Task Force 141. The absence of any intimate physical affection had left him feeling desperate and needy. He looked at you, his expression a mix of desire and tenderness. “Of course I want it. I craved your touch every moment I was away.”

He pulled you even closer, his body pressed tightly against yours. He could feel the heat of your skin against his, and the way your breath hitched as he touched you. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, nuzzling against your skin, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered again. “But we have to be quiet, love. We don't want to disturb little Freya in the next room.”

“Then shut my mouth, Lieutenant Ghost.” You kissed his bare skin and touched it to tease him.

Ghost's eyes darkened at your request, a thrill of excitement running down his spine as he looked down at you. He didn't need to be told twice. He cupped your face in his hand, tilting your head back as his lips descended upon yours in a deep, passionate kiss. His other hand pressed itself against your back, pulling you flush against his body as he let his tongue invade your mouth.

He kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth with eagerness and desire. He could feel the heat of your body against his, the way your breath hitched with every touch he gave you, and it drove him wild. He pushes you up against the wall, pinning you in place, his body pressed intimately against yours. And his lips never leave yours as he continues to kiss you, his lips moving forcefully and eagerly against yours, his need for you overwhelming.

He pressed his body against yours, his hardness pressing against your stomach. He groaned into your mouth, the sound filled with need and desire. His hands roam over your body, touching you anywhere and everywhere he could reach, as if he was trying to memorize every inch of your body. He breaks the kiss, his lips moving to your neck, nipping and biting at your skin as he whispers huskily in your ear. “I missed you so much, love.”

“Oh—fuck—I missed you more—“

Ghost's lips move along the line of your neck, his tongue tracing a path to your collarbone, where he nips at the sensitive skin with his teeth. He whispers hoarsely, his hands roaming over your body, leaving a trail of fire wherever they touch. “I don't think that's possible, love. I was counting the hours until I could be with you again.”

You feel he’s sucks hard on a patch of skin at the base of your neck, his intent on marking you as his own. “Fuck—ah—you—still want to compete—with me—”

Ghost chuckles against your skin, his lips moving to another spot, where he repeats the same action, leaving another mark on your body. “Always, love. I always want to compete with you, and I always want to win.”

He starts to move down your body, his lips leaving a trail of biting kisses along your collarbone, his hands reaching up to cup your breasts. “Damn—ah—you—“

Ghost chuckles again at your curse, the sound muffled against your skin as he continues his exploration of your body. He teases, his mouth moving lower still, his lips brushing over the swell of your breasts. “Language, love.”

His hands grip your sides, holding you in place as he continues to kiss and nibble at your flesh, his touch growing more urgent and possessive. Ghost's hands move down to your thighs, his fingers spreading them apart, as his kisses move lower. He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, as he slowly trails his lips along your inner thigh, his mouth hovering just above where you want him most.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, as he slowly trails his lips along your inner thigh, his mouth hovering just above where you want him most. His breath is hot against your skin, and you can feel the tension coiled in his body like a tightly wound spring. He whispers, his voice low and rough. “I've been thinking about this since I left. I can't wait to taste you, love.”

Ghost grins, his lips ghosting over your sensitive flesh. His tongue flicking out to taste your skin. He can feel the way you shiver, how your body responds to his touch, and it only encourages him to tease you further. His hands slide up your thighs, gripping you tightly as he moves closer to your core. “I'm going to make you feel so good.”

“Fuck—ah—Fuck me now, I can't wait—“

Ghost's eyes darken with desire at your plea, his body responding to your neediness. He looks up at you, his expression hungry, before he rises to his feet. He grabs your hips, turning you around to face the wall. He pushes your body against the wall, pinning you in place as he presses himself tightly against your back. His hands slide up your sides, cupping your breasts, and his mouth moves to your ear. “Are you ready for me, oh my lovely wife?”

“Yes—ah—“ You moan softly.

Ghost's hands move down your body, his fingers trailing over your skin, as he positions himself behind you. He leans over your body, his chest and stomach pressed firmly against your back. He presses his hardness against your core, his body quivering with anticipation, as he grips your hips tightly. Ghost's breath catches in his throat at your words, his body responding to your eagerness. He lines himself up with your entrance, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

His words send a shiver down your spine, your anticipation growing even more intense. You take a deep breath, feeling his hands on your hips, as he starts to push into you slowly and gently. You breathe out, unable to stop the words from escaping your lips. “Ah—Ghost—“

Ghost shudders at the sound of his name on your lips, his body trembling with desire. His mouth leaving a trail of kisses along your shoulder blade. He begins to move, his hips rocking gently against yours as he pushes further into you. He whispers, his voice ragged and rough. “You feel so good, love.”

Ghost's body presses against your back, his movements growing more urgent and desperate. His words almost lost in the sound of your combined gasps and moans. He pushes into you harder, his fingers digging into your hips as he struggles to control himself. His movements become rougher, more demanding, as if he's trying to make up for the time he was gone.

Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, your breath coming in short gasps as you cling onto him for support. He leans in, his chest pressed against your back, his breath hot against your ear.

“Yes—yes!—“ You gasp out, your body trembling with pleasure. You manage to say, barely coherent as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. You plead, your words half-gasps and half-whimpers.

“I won't stop—not until you come apart for me—“ He whispers and his hot breath on your bare skins.

You gasp, your words a desperate plea. Your body is on fire, every nerve ending alive and buzzing with pleasure. You manage to say. “Don't hold back—I want all of you, Ghost.”

“I—I can't—“ He gasps again, his body on the edge.

“You make me-I-“ His words are lost as he finally comes undone, his body shuddering as Waves of pleasure washes over him. He holds onto you tightly, his breath ragged and uneven as he tries to catch his breath. His body is covered in a sheen of sweat, his muscles quivering with exertion.

He breathes, his voice soft and tender. “Ha—Damn it—I love you, love. So fucking love you.”

“Ha—I love you too—“ You feel Ghost collapses against you, his body spent and boneless, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly against him, as he tries to catch his breath.

He whispers, his voice filled with affection and admiration. “You're incredible, love. I don't know how I survived two weeks without you.”

“Hahaha. Let's clean it up. Today Freya sleeps with us, I don't want she wake up and not find us.”

Ghost chuckles, his breath still a little ragged. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering on your skin for a moment, before he pulls away reluctantly. “Fair enough. Let's go take a quick shower, then we can check on Freya.”

As you and Ghost make your way to the shower, you can't help but feel a deep sense of contentment and peace settling over you. The water cascading over your bodies is warm and soothing. You wash each other off, your touch tender and gentle. Ghost's hands roam over your body, his touch possessive and caring. He washes your hair, massaging your scalp with his fingers, as he presses soft kisses to your neck.

You return the favor, your own hands gliding over his skin, tracing the lines of his muscles, and the scars that mar his body. You wash away the stress and tension that had been building up for the past two weeks, replaced by a deep sense of comfort and intimacy. Ghost pulls you close, his body pressed against yours, as he whispers words of love and reassurance into your ear.

By the time you finish washing up, the steam in the bathroom is thick and hazy. You and Ghost step out of the shower, wrapping yourselves in towels, as you make your way to the bedroom.

As you enter the room, you can see that Freya is still asleep, her small body curled up under the covers. “Huff. Lucky our noises didn’t wake her up.”

Ghost smiles, his gaze shifting to the sleeping child. He crosses the room and sits down on the edge of the bed, his knees touching the mattress. “Yeah, she's a heavy sleeper. You go get dressed, love. I'll keep an eye on her.”

“Alright. You can sleep first. You haven't slept with her for two weeks. Both of you must be miss each other.”

Ghost's expression softens at your words. He looks down at the sleeping child beside him, a mixture of affection and guilt crossing his face. He admits, his voice low. “I missed her so much.”

He reaches out and gently brushes a strand of hair away from her forehead, his touch tender and gentle. he adds, looking up at you with a soft smile. “But I missed you too. More than I thought I would.”

“Hehehe. Get your sexy body lying down and stay with her. I'll get dressed and come join with you two.”

Ghost nods, giving you a small smile. He crawls into the bed, pulling the covers over him as he settles in beside Freya. She shifts a little in her sleep, her small body seeking the warmth and comfort of her father. Ghost wraps his arm around her, his hand resting gently on her back as he watches her sleep.

You head into the bathroom, quickly drying off and getting dressed. When you return to the bedroom, you find Ghost and Freya asleep. Ghost is on his back, his arm still draped over Freya, who is snuggled up against his side. They look peaceful and content, their faces relaxed in sleep. “Hehehe. This father and daughter are so cute.”

Ghost's head is turned towards Freya, his face softened in sleep. You can hear the steady sound of his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest as he keeps his arm wrapped protectively around her. Freya is cuddled up against him, her small body pressed against his side.

You walk over and stand beside the bed, a soft smile on your face as you watch the sleeping pair. “Guess tonight my little girl sleeps in the middle huh. What a cutie pie.”

You climb into bed, slipping in carefully on the other side of Ghost, trying not to disturb the sleeping pair. Ghost stirs a little at your movement, but he doesn't wake up. Instead, he shifts a little, pulling you closer to him, his arm draping over your body as he settles back into his sleep. Freya is sandwiched between you and Ghost, her small body nestled in the middle, as she continues to sleep peacefully.

You smile as you feel the weight of Ghost's arm around you, his touch a familiar and comforting presence even in sleep. As you lie there, watching the sleeping pair, you realize that this moment of peace and contentment is exactly what you need. The stress and tension of the past few weeks fade away, replaced by a sense of safety and contentment. You close your eyes, feeling the warm presence of Ghost behind you, and the sweet breath of Freya against your chest.

“Good night. My love, my little Freya.”

The End 🖤♥️

[inkedinfusions]

𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝 | geto suguru chapter 1

⊱𖤓⊰ | In which you, a thief, meet the lost prince of the kingdom.

── ★ ˙ ̟ . ⚜️ .ᐟ.ᐟ masterlist

next–⊱

𝟎𝟏 | 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐟𝐭

chapter word count: 4.1k

content warnings: normal warnings for the tangled movie lol

a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TWIN!!!!! He is ooc in this because he isn't racist ☺️ Anyway, I'm going to take this opportunity to thank P for not complaining when I send them Geto edits and when I rant about jjk. New chapter comes out tomorrow! 

Thanks for reading!

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 your hair as you gaze upon the kingdom below you, the morning sun bathing the colorful houses all around. It is by all means a perfect day; the sky is clear, the air is warm, and you are about to be one of the richest people in the land. 

“Hey!” exclaims the voice of your partner, snapping you out of your daydreams. “The view is nice and all, but the longer we stay here, the higher the odds we get caught.”

“Since when have you ever cared about getting caught?” you ask, walking towards where Satoru stands. “I can recall at least five times where we almost got busted because of your idiotic tendencies.”

“But my dear Y/n, what you don't understand is that I have transformed into a new person,” he says. “My recent sabbatical really helped me ground myself in this–”

“You mean when you got caught and had to serve time until I helped you escape?”

“As I was saying! I am nothing but a law-abiding citizen, bound by the values of this kingdom.”

“That is the biggest load of bullshit I have ever heard,” you say, tying the rope around your torso. “And I deal with you daily.”

You open the panel that sits directly on top of the stand that contains your objective. You scoff at the placement, wondering what dumb soul decided to compromise the circlet’s security with multiple removable panels. Still, if this piece of wood hadn’t been here, your job would be all the more difficult. And most normal people do not account for thieves on the roof.

“Yeah, keep talking and I’ll drop you,” Satoru says, gripping the rope to which you are attached. 

You choose to simply stick out your tongue rather than retort, for you are already being lowered into the hall and you’d rather not alert the guards prematurely. After you had the circlet, all was fair game. 

You would never say this out loud, but you are very thankful it was Satoru who botched one of your firsts jobs when you were teenagers. You were nimble, too gangly to steal anything big, but smart enough to manage on your own. Then Satoru entered the picture and something clicked. 

The boy could have chosen to leave you behind and escape himself, but instead he chose to create a distraction so you could escape too. You had left that job with no valuables except for a new partner in crime and a change in name, courtesy of Satoru.

The story went like this. In the middle of the job you both had bickered over who takes what, him calling you Starlight when you refused to give out your name, you calling him Six Eyes when he tripped over a bump in the carpet in the middle of the hall. This had continued until guards started to pursue you, and in the confusion, had christened you with those names on your new and shiny wanted posters. 

Those didn’t come until much later, when both you and Satoru were rising fast through local murmurs, and he threw a fit when your insult for him had taken the form of his identity. You didn’t mind, as you were completely comfortable with leaving Y/n behind, with only Satoru calling you that as a result of exchanging names in a show of trust. Which takes you to the situation at hand. 

The throne room you are being dropped into is lavishly decorated, full of banners with the royal crest, a circle that contains four swirling lines that converge into the small circle in the middle, symbolizing the sun. They are painted gold and a dark purple, almost blue, which combines with the stained glass windows that line the walls. 

You are carefully lowered by Satoru until you reach the stand placed in front of the thrones, where a royal circlet stands, the key to your newfound lifestyle. It is gold, lathered in jewels that range from dark amethysts to indigo sapphires, but it is surprisingly light when you pick it up. 

A guard sneezes and you get the wonderful idea to mess with them a little bit. Satoru couldn’t fault you; you were only following his example. 

“Bless you,” you say politely as you tug on the rope to signal Satoru to lift you, circlet already in your satchel.

“Thanks,” the guard says, unbothered. You snort when he whirls around moments later, managing to catch only the soles of your boots as you make your escape on the roof. 

You laugh as the guard shouts at you to wait, but you’re already sliding down the walls of the castle, making a quick getaway through alleyways and unused roads. You pivot on a corner, grabbing Satoru by the arm so he isn’t caught unprepared for the sharp turn, and he hoists you up to a roof when all the roads are blocked by guards. 

“So much for not getting caught, huh?” Satoru shouts at you while you make your escape to the nearby forest. 

“That’s my bad,” you respond, a grin betraying your lack of guilt. “Besides, look how productive we’ve been! It's what, eight? And we are already set for life!”

Satoru rolls his eyes as you dart through the foliage, amusement evident in the creases of his face. “I never want to hear you complain about my recklessness again.”

You shove him with a smile, when two posters nailed to a tree catch your eye. If the faces didn't spoil it, the names sure do; Starlight and Six Eyes, wanted dead or alive. Now, personally, you would prefer to not be caught at all, but it was nice that alive was still an option. You just have one grievance. 

“Geez. Does my hair look that frizzy to you?” you ask Satoru, ripping the poster of the tree and holding it next to your face for comparison. He shrugs, to which you call out his name with force.

“What? I didn’t draw that,” he says. “Why are you mad at me?” 

“Oh, it's easy for you to say,” you answer, ripping up his poster and waving it around. “I guess the illustrators must have a crush on you or something, because this looks like–”

“Like the real me? Thank you very much, it's genetics.”

“No dumbass, like a weird, exaggerated fantasy of a fairy tale prince,” you say.

Satoru snorts. “Please, as if a prince would ever affiliate himself with us.”

“True. Hey, aren’t those the Curses?” you ask, pointing to another poster depicting two guys, one with an eyepatch and another covered in stitches. “I didn’t know they escaped.”

“Oh shit, really?” Satoru grimaces. “All the more reason we need to lay low. I doubt they’ve forgiven us for that little stint we pulled at the port.”

“No shit, you nearly decapitated the guy–!” 

You are interrupted by the neigh of a horse, and when you whirl around you can see the head of the royal guard charging towards you and Satoru. You are quick to stash your poster in your satchel and to follow him deeper into the forest, dodging arrows as they are fired from crossbows. 

The guards do not slow down, and their horses only seem to get closer to you by the second, so you send a quick glance to Satoru and you both nod. He pivots left and you pivot right, buying a few seconds of confusion from your entourage. 

You’ll find him again—you always do—but in moments like this, crucial seconds can make the difference. An added bonus is the way one of you will help the other if they get caught, although now that your target was the royal palace and not some rando’s house you doubted your punishment would be something as simple as jail time. 

So you sprint through the forest, up hills and around spiky bushes as you try to lose your pursuers. And of course, with your rotten luck, the head of the guard has decided you’re the bigger threat, being the one with the satchel where the circlet is stashed, so he is now after you instead of Satoru. 

You hear the horses neigh just as you slide underneath a fallen trunk, barely dodging arrows meant for you. A stray vine almost makes you trip, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins replenishes the air in your lungs fast enough for you to keep running as fast as you can. 

Your eyes dart around, looking for anything that could stop at least the horses from pursuing after you. You weren’t confident in winning against them, but you could totally outrun the guards on foot. There, in the distance, a tree stands tall in the middle of your path, blocking off the free space at its sides.

You grin, grunting when you manage to jump through its branches, before you resume your sprint. You are tempted to let out a whoop, although all your hopes are crushed away when you glance back and notice the chief is still hot on your trail. 

Somehow, with the rush of adrenaline still in your blood, you manage to climb up a tree on the edge of the foliage. The chief doesn’t have time to think when you lunge at him from the tree, effectively knocking him off his horse and taking it for your own. 

You let out a gloating laugh, which is quickly extinguished when the horse stops dead on its tracks. It turns to look at you, and its eyes shine weirdly in the sun, making its pupils seem almost golden colored while its white pelt turns almost rainbow where the sun hits it.

“Go,” you say with urgency. “Come on, lets go–”

The horse cuts you off when his—his?—eyes zero in on your satchel, and he starts doing strange twirling movements to both get you off and grab it, somehow knowing the circlet is hidden there. His eyes dart from it to you for a moment, lunging for it at the same time you try not to lose your equilibrium. 

“Wha—Hey! Stop it!” you exclaim as the horse starts to twirl and jump and move forward. It is in one of those movements that the satchel flies away from your hands and into the cliff up front. 

You exhale when it is caught by a strangely large branch that stretches out into nothingness, and from there on, it's a battle between you and the horse to get to it first. Satoru would mock you if he could see you right now, something about fighting your equal or such leaving his mouth as he struggles to maintain his composure. 

But this horse plays dirty. It chews the edges of your pants, trips you, anything to bring you down. You use your nimbleness to elude the majority of his attacks, but just as you are about to reach the satchel, the branch cracks and snaps, sending both of you plummeting down to the forest below. 

You scream as you fall down, losing your grip of the branch when a rock from the cliffside splits it in half. You grunt when you land on the grass, managing to roll off what could be grave injuries, before quickly getting on your feet and on the move. That horse would not give up, so you either needed to regroup with Satoru or find a place where you could lay low. 

Thuds alert you before you see the horse again, so you duck on the side of a rock, crouched in between it and a wall covered in vines, and wait for him to walk away. You hold your breath as he somehow loses track of your scent and heads to the other side, maybe in search of its rider. 

You straighten up when he leaves, walking backwards in order to maybe grab some vines and climb the wall. Only that the wall is not really a wall. 

You yelp when you fall through, but your instinct makes you step inside the hidden cave when the sounds you made signal the horse of something in the vicinity. You watch as he moves around, his figure easily distinguished by the shadow he puts off against the vines. Your shoulders tense, but this time he leaves and you think it's for good. 

“Why did I–?” you ask yourself when you check your satchel and notice the wanted poster next to the circlet. You shrug and stuff it back down, heading deeper into the cave. But like the wall not being a wall, the cave is not a cave, and so you walk towards the light, expecting a small clearing or a skylight. 

You couldn’t be more wrong when you finally come face to face with the view, stealing what little breath you had left.

The valley surrounded by mountains is lush with green, multiple small ponds and grass patches and trees dotting it at random. In the end there is a waterfall, and the sound of water flowing calms you down, but even that can’t compare with the true star of the scenery. 

A magnificent tower stands tall in the middle of it all, with vines climbing all over its foundations, hit just the right way by the sun that peeks from above. It is beautiful, yes, but also the perfect place to hide. 

You dash across the valley, running side to side with the river flowing down from the waterfall. You take out stray arrows that had somehow found their way to your satchel—stashed by Satoru probably, as his idea of a prank—and manage to climb up the wall of the tower, using them as leverage to get you up. 

You grunt as you do this, lamenting that having your partner with you would probably make it easier, but you press on, seeing the window—not the door because of course it couldn’t have one. Noo, everything just had to be difficult—and just so managing to throw your body over it with your last whispers of strength.

You close the shutters with a bang, finally having time to catch your breath. Ha! you think. “I’d like to see you climb that,” you murmur with a grin, not even perplexed by the fact that you are beefing with a horse. Then you feel a quick flash of pain on the back of your skull and everything goes black. 

You are rudely woken up by a weird sensation in your ear, making your eyes snap open as you shudder. Chills run through your body as you notice you are tied with a weird ass rope to a chair, which, if you didn’t know better, is reminiscent of black, ebony hair. 

It can’t be hair though because a, it is not possible for someone’s hair to be that long, and even if they didn’t cut it their whole lives, it wouldn't be as silky. And b, because hair doesn’t change colors when light hits it, and this strange black fiber is interrupted at times by golden strands that turn black again when it shifts in place.  

You follow the rope—hair?—with your eyes, until your surroundings get too dark for you to distinguish it, only catching glimpses of gold when it shuffles. Okay, pause. Shuffles?

“What the fuck?” you ask out loud, breaking the silence you had found yourself in.

“Struggling… struggling is pointless,” a man’s voice answers from the darkness, prompting you to look in its direction. “This is not your turf,” he continues, which only makes you more confused. Is he chiding you for trespassing his home?

“Look, uh, sir,” you start, spinning a lie as fast as you speak. “I’m just a weary traveler–”

“I don’t believe you,” the voice cuts you off, and the owner’s clothes rustle as he stands, coming into the light. “Who are you and how did you find me?”

You are momentarily stunned by him. He looks about your age, with a deep indigo vest over a long sleeved cream shirt. His pants are the color of burnt umber, held in place by a lighter brown belt. But his clothes are nothing compared to the man itself. 

Maybe it's your taste in people, but even Satoru cannot compare with him. His eyes are the color of deep purple, swirling with galaxies in its iris, framed by long, black eyelashes. His face is as sculpted as some of the most impressive sculptures you’ve ever seen, and his eyebrows frame his features perfectly, black like his hair. 

But his hair is not pure ebony either. You note that it is the same thing that is binding you to the chair, proving right your earlier supposition of it being hair. Now that you know its hair, it's all the more interesting. It's black and gold and everything in between, and where the lights hit the top of his head, it seems to glow. 

“Find you?” you ask confused after a beat. “I didn’t—are you on the run too?”

“On the run?” he repeats, eyes narrowing. “So you are a criminal then.”

“Okay, first,” you say, extending your pointer finger, “criminal is a hurtful label and totally not true–”

“So this wanted poster isn’t yours then? Starlight?” 

He waves a crumpled up paper around, and you catch a glimpse of the same poster you had ripped from the tree earlier. 

“That's not mine…” you immediately deny, trailing off when you realize you don’t know his name.

“Suguru,” he says. “Don’t wear it off.”

“Well, Suguru,” you say, “if you could just graciously let me explain—Wait, where did you get that? That was in—” You curse mentally when you notice your satchel isn’t with you anymore, wildly looking around the room you find yourself in. “Hey! That was in my satchel! What did you do to it?”

“I hid it,” Suguru answers, a small grin finding its way to his face. “Somewhere you’ll never find it.”

You scan the room with your eyes, your brain automatically registering any and all places, both obvious and not, where the satchel could be stashed. In the corner of your eye you notice a strangely placed pot, which, combined with the guy’s apparent lack of common sense, tells you it's the perfect hiding place.

“It's in the pot, right?” you dead pan, gesturing to the pot with your head. 

You hear a clang and everything goes black again. 

“Ow!” is the first thing you grumble when you regain consciousness again. “Keep going and I’ll have no brain cells left, princess.”

“I am neither a princess nor a girl,” Suguru says, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t call me that.”

“Yeah, whatever,” you respond. “Where then, is my satchel?”

“Now it's somewhere you’ll never find. But no matter,” he continues. “The real question here is what do you want with my hair?”

“Your hair?” You let out a small, unbelieving laugh. “Believe me, the only thing I want with your hair is to get out of it. Literally,” you finish, gesturing to your binded wrists as a way to emphasize your point.

He raises an eyebrow, like he somehow can’t accept that you aren't here to steal his hair. Wow, it sounds ridiculous just thinking about it. He circles you with his weapon of choice, an old pan, walking in and out of your field of vision. What weird hermit’s house had you broken into? 

“You don't… want to sell my hair?”

“Why the hell would I want to do that?” you say. “Look, I was in a hurry and in need of a place to stay. I saw a tower, I climbed it, and now I’m here. End of story.”

Suguru looks you up and down, weighing your words now against the obvious lies you told him at the beginning. “You’re being genuine,” he finally says. 

“No duh,” you answer, recoiling when he points the pan at you and a small lizard stands on its edge, glaring at you with its slimy eyes. You freeze, following its movements with your eyes when Sugure takes the pan back, retreating to the darkness. 

He turns his back to you, slightly slouching down to talk with… is that the lizard? On his shoulder? Man, this place is just getting weirder and weirder by the second. He mumbles, and you only manage to catch truth and strangely fangs.

“Okay then, Starlight,” he says. “I’d be willing to offer you a deal.”

“A deal?”

“Yes. A deal.”

You watch as Suguru climbs the fireplace, your chair coming dangerously close to toppling over when he moves his hair to shift you in his direction. Your eyes are now more or less used to the lack of light, so you use that movement to look around. The walls of the tower are completely covered in paintings, ranging from people doing various things to multiple objects strewn about. 

“This,” he says, revealing a mural covered by a curtain, “is what I want to see.”

The scene is that of a night sky framed by a forest, with who you assume to be Suguru perched on top of a tree. The night sky is filled with lights and you quickly recognize what it is he is referring to. 

“You mean the lantern thing they do for the prince?” you ask.

“They’re lanterns?” he questions, looking back at his paintings. “In retrospect, it's kinda dumb to think they were stars, huh?”

“Stars don’t move,” you say. “Nor do they only appear once a year.”

“That's what I said!” he exclaims, turning to you. “Well, it doesn't matter. Tomorrow these… lanterns will appear and I want you to escort me to and back from the light show. Then, and only then,” he emphasizes, “will I return your precious satchel. Do we have a deal, Starlight?”

“Yeah, no,” you say, much to his dismay. “I’ll get lynched if I come as close as five meters from the kingdom. That is not a figure of speech.”

He looks you up and down, chewing his bottom lip, contemplating. “We find ourselves at odds then,” Suguru says. “You can’t leave without your satchel and I won’t give it to you unless we have a deal.”

“I don't know what brought you here,” he continues, jumping down from the fireplace’s mantle. “A poet would say fate, others would say destiny—”

“A horse did.”

“But against all common sense,” he says, completely smoothing over what you said, “I have made the decision to trust you.”

“You are right,” you say. “It is against common sense to trust me.”

Suguru scoffs, using his hair to bring your chair closer and closer to him. “So in return, you can trust me when I say that you can destroy this room, tear the tower brick by brick,” he says, punctuating each statement with a pull. “But without my help? Oh, you never find your precious satchel.” 

You huff, looking down to escape the drilling holes of Suguru’s gaze, his face so close to you you swear you can see entire galaxies in his eyes. You meditate on your options for a moment; it's either lose what you almost gave up your freedom to get, or possibly get sent to the gallows for stealing from the royal family. 

“You’re not going to budge, huh, princess?” you ask after a beat, relishing in the way the corner of his left eye twitches when you call him by the nickname. 

“What do you think?” he retorts, tiling his head to the side with an irritated grin.

You hum, taking in his question. “Can we compromise on me giving you directions?”

“No.”

You groan. “What? There's, like, nothing out there that could harm you. Notice how I'm talking about you here?” you say, craning your neck to get closer. “With me, however, it's a given I’ll end up next in line to get hanged.”

“Not my problem,” he says. “If the poster is anything to get by, then you probably deserve it.”

His words would cut more if it weren’t for the fact that you’re pretty sure he is extremely sheltered, and so, he doesn’t know neither your life nor the context in which it was written. So you simply shrug and sigh, ready to accept his deal. Hell, maybe you could show him something to be scared about and he’ll abandon his childish quest of seeing the lanterns. 

“Fine,” you say, not missing the slight twinkle in his eyes when you agree. “I’ll take you to see the lanterns or whatever. And then you'll give me my satchel.”

“Deal,” Suguru says with a grin.

[forestofforever]

As soon as Alura was ready to leave, Etienne felt a wave of anxiety. This wasn't right. He was finally where he belonged, and now he was being told to go back?

"N...no... No! I can't leave! I don't want to leave, please don't make me." His voice was shaky. He knew it wasn't fair towards Alura, but the desire to stay was so unbelievably strong that he could hardly fight it. The Heart slowly shook his head "It's not yet time. If you wish to stay once all is said and done, I won't stop you, but not now. Go home, Etienne. You have people who care about you. You only wish to stay because you're becoming one with the Merchant. The Merchant wants to stay, but you don't. Not really. Go." His voice was calm, reassuring, and while Etienne seemed hesitant, he did as he was told.

He turned to Alura. He noticed the dirt that covered her, how cold she was, the fact that she was barefoot... sure, he was too, but she had come after him wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt and here he was refusing to go back.

He instantly felt ashamed of himself.

"Hold on." He picked her up, carrying her bridal style, ensuring that the T-shirt kept her properly covered. "I could give you my robe, but then I'd be fully naked and I'm not sure anybody really wants to deal with that right now." He quipped, still a little out of it, but trying to act normal. "Use me for warmth" He kept her closely pressed against his chest to keep the cold at bay, ensuring she was comfortable before he kept walking, walking until they finally slipped through another gateway, returning to the woods near his house.

Over analyzing everything the heart said and his actions made her doubt his words. At least he wasn’t trying to hurt them- well, not directly. His uncertainty didn’t make her feel any better either. She didn’t say anything and just nodded silently. Having to wait another day- a lot can happen in 24 hours as she just experienced and the merchant, regardless of what the heart said, seemed unpredictable. The anxiety and helplessness she felt burned inside her- falling nothing short of frustration. This situation feeler very much up to chance and she never had good luck. Maybe Etienne would have better chances.

“Well.. thank you.” She’d say she looked forward to seeing him again but that’d be a lie. She looked forward to the chance that this would all be solved but not the process following. Alura gave a small bow of her head as if to indicate she was grateful for the information. But she didn’t know what else to say- normally she was skilled at reading people but he seemed so out of the ordinary compared to everyone else she met. Her eyes then landed on his heart, narrowing. The thought of killing him crossed her mind again- he was the heart of the forest wasn’t he? She didn’t quite understand his existence but if the forest ceased to exist all together would that save Etienne? No, it was better to wait.

She looked away from him, turning to walk away and still holding Etienne’s hand. She was cold, tired and her feet hurt from being barefoot but it still hadn’t settled in. Her nose was red and her hands were colder than his, dirt covered her shins and feet as well. “Time to go find this out of the ordinary thing.” She sighed as she spoke, mainly thinking out loud. Her head leaned back and her eyes closed, starting to walk out back the way they came. Her movements were slow as if she was dreading what was to come. At least Etienne was okay at the moment- that’s mainly what she cared about.

[ngage2003]

I would be absolutely thrilled to hear your highschool Jaylex headcanons

SMILES. Ok.

⟦content warning: unhealthy relationships, abusive childhoods, generally two traumatized people behaving badly and like real people, headcanons and some analysis.⟧

As mentioned in this post, I think Alex and Jay are to some extent codependent, with bad habits developed between the both of them due to growing up in the south and being not typical/"weirdos".

I think this based off of just how easily they fell into an unhealthy dynamic in Season 2 of Marble Hornets where I believe Alex plays to what he knows about Jay to manipulate him. (Using his curiosity against him and leading him in circles.)

Jay isn't innocent either though! Really, both these characters are defined by their selfishness, which get exacerbated by the Operator. Alex has a need for control and power, and Jay has a deadly curiosity and passivity/apathy to others in the face of it.

I think Alex's need for control and power comes from his toxic relationship to masculinity, (talked about a bit here,) and a desire to fit in despite being unable to, exacerbated by his home life. I think its very likely his father instilled these beliefs in him by himself being someone who upheld toxic masculinity and make fun of perceived femininity in his son, a sort of abusive "tough love" approach that left Alex hurt and angry and hating himself and his dad.

I think strangely the reason Alex and Jay first connected is because Jay's closed off nature, apathy and his autistic tendencies left him appearing to just not care about masculinity and fitting in, despite being male, a fact which pissed Alex off to no end because it sort of broke his brain. ("Men are naturally good at being masculine and in control and powerful, and I'm not so I am a failure" is a belief instilled in him by his dad, but here is Jay, this apathy filled fly on the wall.)

I think they originally became friends because Alex wanted someone to punch at metaphorically and push around, and Jay easily complied to that, fascinated by Alex's attention on him and his general bristly demeanor which was so opposite to his gilded cage life. (For more on that check out my nepo baby jay post)

I think as time progressed, Alex's anger towards Jay gradually faded a bit, but he always held some sort of residual resentment for how unbothered he seemed with fully conforming to masculinity. Jay to him is as much of a symbol as he is a person, a tick that stubbornly persists in the flesh and ruins Alex's attempts to make sense of things.

That is not to say Jay is feminine necessarily or actively avoiding masculinity, but he is just apathetic and not too preoccupied with being masculine. Along with this, I think he is caring to Alex, especially in highschool, a fact which upsets and confuses the other because "men don't act like that to each other."

I can so clearly see Alex in highschool getting in fights, and then Jay helping patch him up, or buying him something in an attempt to make him feel better because that is just the behavior he has been taught, and Alex briefly thinks about driving his knuckles into Jay's stupid face as he applies an antibiotic to his split knuckles.

I think Jay understands that the grass is not greener for Alex to some extent, but Alex envies him so hard sometimes.

The furniture in Jay's house gets replaced every few months, there is nothing concrete to hold onto and savor there besides this toxic pristine smell of freshness. Meanwhile everything in Alex's house is the same as when he was a young kid, with all the residue of bad memories that come with that, molding under seat cushions and catching in the dusty corners of rooms.

Alex's home is painfully lived in, and Jay's is painfully empty.

I don't think they're ever together romantically, but I think Jay has a brief crush on Alex in highschool because Alex is kind of the only concrete thing in his life. Alex has a crush on him (that he denies) in turn because Jay is the only good thing in his.

They make out on Alex's couch when his parents aren't home, desecrating over a decade of memories with a needy, unsure passion only really held by teenagers and infidels.

Alex is so shocked with himself afterward that he stays in bed all weekend and refuses to ever sit on the couch again, like the memory of what happened there will somehow rub off on him. (Like it will tempt him.)

I don't think Jay ever mentions it again, seeing as Alex ignored him all that weekend, (despite him trying to call because he really wanted to ask Alex about all that, and maybe invite him over to make out again.) But if Alex doesn't want to talk about it, they won't. If he wants Jay to pretend it never happened, he will. Alex leads them after all, and Jay will always follow in his footsteps, always eager to be at his side, no matter how much or little Alex Kralie is left.

I think it is worth noting that, despite coming from different backgrounds, Jay and Alex both go down at the hands of the Operator. Tim and Alex practically come from the same story but they come out the other side as two opposites, while Jay and Alex they both die in the same building.

I think there is some meaning there, with how Alex and Jay are so entangled.

Alex can't kill him for so long, and Jay keeps looking for him always.

I don't know, I think about them a lot.

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

october 1, 2021 4:15 p.m. grant's house

[juhani] hello? grant, can i call you tomorrow? it’s late.

[grant] no, you can’t. i know it’s 11 o’clock where you are right now, and i don’t really care. you answered, so you’ve trapped yourself.

[varpu, faintly] juha, if you don’t talk now, he will never call you back.

[juhani] i want to speak with you, of course i do, it’s just–

[grant] fantastic, because that’s what we’re doing. we’re talking! i have 30 years of stuff to get off my chest, and i'm sure you have your own piece to share. not sure where to start, but.

[juhani] may i ask you a question? what did you overhear at dinner the other night? are you upset i'm moving? is that it?

[grant] i mean, that stung a little after the whole “i’ll be around to build a relationship with you,” thing, but i gave you my express permission to go home, so it’s whatever. we are both adults, so i am not going to fault you for making adult decisions that improve your life. i'm more upset by you claiming you didn’t tell me about your plans or include me in the moving and wedding stuff and whatever because i'm difficult.

[juhani] that’s not what–

[grant] oh, come on. don’t kid yourself. you said it yourself, anything involving me is like pulling teeth. i heard it loud and clear.

[juhani] well, when i tell you things, you never react well. it always goes precisely like this conversation is going.

[grant] really? never? because i remember being pretty positive about your proposal and about you contacting me in the first place and about coming to dinner to acquaint myself with varpu’s kids and about meeting varpu a while back…

[grant] what i react poorly to is you leaving me out, you calling me difficult, you complaining about me in front of impressionable people, etcetera.

[juhani] i don’t want to leave you out.

[grant] that’s what varpu said, too, but i didn’t believe her, so why would i believe you?

[juhani] i have no idea how to interact with you. i've apologized to you, told you i regret the events of your childhood. nothing works.

[grant] do you regret it? because it kind of just feels like you’re doing the same shit again. abandoning me for your own self-interests. oh, and this time you’re replacing me with a brand new family you treat better.

[juhani] i'm not repl–okay, what would you prefer me do when you push me away? you told me i was difficult.

[grant] when did i say that? i mean, that's true, sure, but i would not say that to you. what i probably said that you’re misconstruing is that talking to you is hard because i'm not comfortable around you.

[juhani] and how long will it take you to be comfortable around me? i don’t know what else you want me to do. truly, i don’t, and it is not pleasant to be rejected endlessly.

[grant] well, i'd have to forgive you, but i don’t. if forgiveness was meant to happen, it would not be instant. you’d have to keep trying with me, even if i piss you off, even if i push you away. you’re my fucking father, it’s your job. you show up for your kid even if they’re horrible or annoying. you never turn your back on them. but, you know, you didn’t show up for the first 22 years you were around, so you’d have to try extra hard now to change my mind.

[grant] but honestly, i will never be comfortable around you. i've realized that over the last few days. i did actually think if you just kept trying, i'd relax and be less on edge, but nope. you could become an honest-to-god saint tomorrow, and i'll still be furious because nothing will make me understand why you couldn’t have been a decent person when i was a kid. like, when i needed you.

[grant] and i don’t get why you weren't. i don't. i'm serious. i can’t comprehend it. clearly, you have it in you to be a decent person. you love varpu's kids. you're fatherly towards them. you take them on vacation, you invite them to house and wedding venue tours, you tell them about and include them in your hobbies, you remember details about them, you smile at them without being forced, you go to their weddings and don’t flip out about them being queer even though you were viscerally disgusted with me when you found out–

[juhani] you shouldn’t bring them into this. it isn’t fair. and i've taken you on vacation before, for one.

[grant] i am being petty, but i think it's fair because i'm not shitting on them specifically. and yeah, okay, you took me on vacation once. you took me to finland exactly once, but i never met your family, and i remember nothing other than the plane rides.

[grant] and you shouldn’t do this. we don’t need to split hairs. you don’t need to crawl through that list of grievances and “well, actually” me as many times as you can manage. one vacation changes nothing. that does not erase all the times you sat there like a lame duck and ignored me or mocked me or let my mother abuse me. there is nothing for you to pat yourself on the back about.

[grant] nothing.

[juhani] so, what are you upset about now?

[grant] why?

[juhani] why what?

[grant] why are you like this? why were you a terrible father? why have no heart for me or my sisters? why did you save all your love for someone else’s kids?

[grant] oh, and how about cerise? you sure didn’t care about your bastard kids either, did you?

[grant] shit. i'm sorry. that just kind of came out. that’s not how i wanted to, you know, pepper that into this conversation. i was going to save that for the end.

[juhani] how do you know about her?

[grant] doesn't matter. it's a long story.

[grant] on that note, what is up with the secret daughter? how’d that happen? is she the only one, too, or should i be on the lookout for any other siblings? and hey, you only divorced my mother in the last few years, so you were cheating. how many times did you fuck around on her, and why would you? you wouldn’t divorce her because you were afraid of her, but apparently it's no big deal to cheat.

[juhani] grant, how can i answer you if you don't allow me to talk? cerise’s mother michelle is a doctor. your mother and i were both at a conference in detroit about healthcare outreach, and…

[juhani] i know it seems contradictory, given how long i stayed with your mother, but i was unhappy in the marriage. i met michelle there at the conference, and she was kind and intelligent, and i suppose the rest of the story should be obvious to you.

[grant] goddamn, man. i hate my mother, but that’s bold: sleeping with another woman right in front of her face.

[grant] did she ever find out?

[juhani] eventually. you remember how she was with the finances. she tracked all the money going in and out of the household. you couldn’t have one cent go missing without being accused of something, and she’d always blame it on some incident with her brother and start ranting about him.

[juhani] look, the agreement with michelle was that i'd stay out of her life and send child support, and she wouldn’t interfere with my family either. i used to lie and tell your mother the child support funds were going somewhere important, but she didn't believe me very long. she did finally question me and find out the truth.

[grant] and?

[juhani] in hindsight, her reaction reminds me a lot of the one she had when you lashed out at her during your graduation dinner. very little left her speechless, but that did. initially, i should clarify. she would go on to never let me live cerise’s existence down.

[juhani] and to answer your question, as far as i know, cerise is the only other child.

[grant] as far as you know?

[juhani] i cannot rule out further surprises.

[grant] jesus christ. my grandmother is right, all men are dogs, but you most of all.

[juhani] does it upset you that much?

[grant] again, i don’t like my mother, but if i needed any more proof that you’re more spineless than a sea sponge, this is it. you were so unhappy with my mother that you’d cheat on her, but you’d not divorce her when your kids were vulnerable.

[grant] you disgust me. you slept around and thought with your dick before you spared a single thought for the kids you let my mother abuse. or for yourself! fuck you. if you’re going to be that selfish, at least be selfish enough to prioritize yourself and leave the woman making you that miserable!

[grant] and now i don’t believe you when you say you wouldn’t leave her back then because you were scared of her. do you seriously mean to tell me it’s less terrifying to cheat on her than to just walk out of the house and never come back?

[grant] i did that, you know? when i'd had enough of my mother, i told her as much and then never spoke to her again. and guess what? wouldn’t you be so stunned to find out she’s never tracked me down, never tried to call or email to reel me back in? she left me alone after i told her to go fuck herself!

[grant] and technically, you know it's possible to leave her, too. what did you say about the divorce? that she just rolled over and let you do it and was fine with you just coughing up all the assets and dipping?

[grant] exhibits A, B, and C that she’s a coward, too. she thinks she’s the boss, but if you fight back hard enough, she gives up. you could have left her at any point in time.

[grant] god. oh my god. you stupid, spineless motherfucker. i thought i'd maxed out on anger. apparently not!

[grant] you really could have been a better father. you could have had your whole little life overhaul decades ago, and you could have saved the entire family so much pain. you, me, elizabeth, kelly…

[grant] i should have suspected as much, and i guess i did, but it's shocking to realize over and over just how useless you are as a father. i think it can't get any worse and then it does. you are a complete and utter failure as a parent.

[grant] this is why i can’t forgive you. you didn’t have to mess up so badly. but no. whatever you got out of the relationship was enough to convince you to sit there and watch my mother ruin all of us, and even thought you weren't happy with her, you got by with fucking other women and only regretted staying a billion years later when you noticed you had nothing of substance left in life but my mother. and that’s a pretty depressing way to live, isn’t it?

[juhani] i stayed because i thought we deserved each other.

[grant] with that attitude, maybe you did.

[grant] listen, i'll admit this, no problem. it’s no one’s fault that she is the way that she is. it’s not even yours. she’s abusive, and what she does to other people is her fault and her responsibility. she’s excellent, too, at convincing you to just go along with it and never question her. it's not that hard to get caught in her trap at first, and she will try her very best to break you. but at some point, you have to question anyway. at some point, you have to recognize you deserve better and do something about it.

[grant] but you didn’t. not until it was too late for it to mean anything.

[grant] i would never think i've done everything right, but in the end, i've respected myself enough to make better choices and do something about the situation i was in, and i've had to do that because the adults in my life weren’t responsible or organized enough to fix things before responsibility fell into my hands.

[juhani] you are a braver and a better man than i.

[grant] i'm glad i am, but do you know how exhausting it is to be brave all the time?

[grant] i am because you weren’t. it is entirely because you failed. you weren’t brave enough to give a fuck about yourself or your kids, so i've had to be brave my entire life. brave enough to survive my childhood, then brave enough to leave. and guess what? i don’t want to be brave. i just want to exist. and back then, i just wanted to be a kid.

[grant] just a kid.

[grant] i wanted to come home from school and play with my pokemon cards and hear my mom and my dad say, “hi honey! how was your day? we love you!" i didn’t want to live in fear of what horror would befall me each and every day.

[grant] fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. you stole my childhood. you stole elizabeth’s childhood. you stole kelly’s childhood.

[grant] you and my mother, but you could have done something. you could have given us our childhoods back. you could have done something! you should have done something!

[grant] you didn’t have to do everything right even. parents mess up, i know that, but you could have at least tried. the bar was on the floor. i would have over the moon living in a single parent household with a father who at least showed up to my hockey games if he wasn’t busy at work and gave me a hug every once in a while.

[grant] and you know what, you did more than steal our childhoods. because you couldn’t stand to sacrifice your comfort long enough to take care of your kids, we all have to live in permanent hell. i have to spend the rest of my life freaking out when someone walks up behind me or speaks too loudly or–god forbid–touches me! it took me years to finally learn not to flinch when someone high fives me! and kelly–i don’t know what she deals with, but i know her life can’t be peaceful.

[grant] again, i am not blaming you for what my mother did–i know she was not kind to you either– but i do blame you for not even trying to stop her or get away from her. you were an adult with power, and you didn't use an ounce of it. actually, you did use it, just not for good. you threw me specifically under the bus because it was easier to let my mother use me as a punching bag than you.

[juhani] you’re right.

[juhani] you’re right, grant.

[grant] i have nothing else to say, short of "fuck you" again. i think i'm done yelling at you.

[grant] no, wait, one last thing. what did you even see in my mother in the first place? what was so enticing about her that you’d stay with her so long and ditch your college sweetheart for her?

[juhani] i don’t know. i don’t know anymore.

[grant] i guess it was two people drawn to each other's misery.

[grant] great. well, that’s all, folks.

[grant] good luck with the new family. maybe you can make it right with someone else and enjoy a totally fresh start because you will never make it right with me, and i will never let you forget what you did to me and my sisters. and don’t lose varpu again, by the way. she is, like, far out of your league–so far it's not even funny–and you are lucky to have this second chance with her and to have a good relationship with her kids.

[grant] also, just so it's clear, i don't want to speak to you anymore after this. don't call me, i won't call you either, except in one circumstance. i'll consider it on the day my mother kicks the bucket. we can toast to the end of that chapter of our lives and hope that the haunting ends. because surely you have to feel a little haunted, too, right? i have a sinking suspicion that’s why you reconnected with me. you don’t care about me. you care about that fresh start, about making yourself feel better about wasting your life and fucking up everyone around you.

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

Sexiest Podcast Character 2024 — Scripted Undefeated Bracket — Round 2

Propaganda

Mari Datuin (Hi Nay):

Shes pan, shes fillipina, she might be God. She talked to the cops without a lawyer, and let them into her home without a lawyer [DONT DO THAT] but she did it for the plot. She’s gorgeous, shes chubby, she loves bubble tea. She was the mediator/ divorce lawyer for a breakup between two of her friends. She has reasonable beef with old people, shes fighting a cult, she is viciously allergic to therapy. Objectively a Character Of All Time. Listen to the podcast if you haven’t.

Eisen Iyer (The Kingmaker Histories):

A burly, bisexual Magical Car Guy from the early 1900s with a mustache, a white streak in his hair, and a Scottish accent. Despite being a bit of a bastard, he has enough confidence to spare- he managed to hook up with one of his country's most famous actresses. Frequently calls people nicknames like 'honey' and 'sweetheart' in a cheekily condescending tone. Always has the sleeves of his button up shirts rolled up to the elbow.

With thanks to @artifeast for the art of Eisen Iyer.

Additional propaganda below the cut:

Mari Datuin (Hi Nay):

#in her defence the cops were hot but also she was wrong for that even if she ends up loving them ; do not let cops into your house #character of all time 🥹

#MARI SWEEP

#i don't go here but i read filipina and felt my pinoy pride shine through

#<- you should go here come to the dark side

#Mari is the sexiest sexy podcast character she has it ALL

This is propaganda for all the female characters. Voters please remember how pretty all women are and factor that into every single vote you make. Thank you.

Eisen Iyer (The Kingmaker Histories):

He is just sooo. Bisexual icon. ADHD king. Wanted criminal. Car guy. He says and does stupid shit all the time but he's also incredibly smart. I'm obsessed with him

#EISEN SWEEP

#EISENSWEEP EISENSWEEP #Begging my moots...pls vote he...sniff sniff

#EISEN SWEEP!!!!

#i love you eisen they could never make me vote for anyone else in a poll

#eisen my love...... #sexiest character ALIVE

#EISEN BABY

#eisen iyer my beloved

#EISEN THE BELOVED

#Eisen might be the sexiest podcast character I've listened to. #yes Cecil has the ambiguity going for him but come on#hes got the voice. the steampunk aesthetic. the artificery. the willingness to Get Shit Done. #the sass #the sass gets its own tag because damn 👌👌 #smart of ass sharp of tongue #cute with his boyfriend

#eisen sweep #i love him so much #truly we need a dose of grumpy engineer from time to time in a media #enrichment