#enjoy or dont its okay

[verflares]

(click for higher quality!) draconified link concept ive been chipping away at this past week ..... here's my funny little compendium concept for him:

"A heroic spirit has taken the form of this bestial dragon. Unlike it's kin, this creature exhibits an extremely aggressive disposition. It appears highly territorial, and will relentlessly chase down those who disturb its skywide patrols - of which it seems to be endlessly searching for either a long-time vassal or foe. Unfortunately, it seems the spirit within has long since forgotten exactly who it was looking for…"

[deerspherestudios]

Thank you for the info on the bouncing animations, seeing my characters do a lil jump is so fun!

And I do mean the sounds themselves, I’ve figured out the coding bit. The sound design in MO is so good! I gotta know your secrets!

Haha I'm happy to have helped! For the sound design it's pretty straightforward, I just assembled the sounds in Premier Pro (it's not an audio software but it was conveniently on my desktop) and layered them out. So one audio file has multiple sounds in sequence.

For a longer explanation:

If you look at the audio files, some of them are baked in like "tail-whip.ogg" having the mug being pushed, falling off the edge, a whoosh of air and the tail catching it in one single audio file. Another example is "kitchen-cabinets.ogg" where you can hear Mychael's boots walk away first and then muffled cabinets opening and closing.

The sequence of different sound cues really make it unique to that scenario instead of just one noise indicating movement like a simple 'thwap' to show the mug being caught or just kitchen cabinets themselves. It's a little extra admittedly (I don't know if a lot of VNs even do this) but I really enjoy doing it especially hearing the final result!

As I implement them in, I always go back and forth looking at what I wrote and what I expect to hear, since I want it to feel natural regardless of reading speed if that makes sense. Timing them is the most important!

There is a 'queue audio' function in Ren'Py where one audio file plays after the first is finished, but I find it much more finicky than just editing the sounds myself where I can control the timing, volume and add in effects if I wanted in one single playback.

I hope that helps!

[favoure]

a lifetime of indentured servitude

used this frame from the mv of "femme fatale" by kedarui as ref for this piece ! just thought that it fit them perfectly orz

[hoshiina]

pairing: narumi gen x gn!reader (no prns)

summary: he's always thought that anyone would do if he just wanted to find love but he realizes you're the one he wishes for, inspired by pop song by yonezu kenshi

warnings: some profanities from narumi

wc: 1300

Narumi Gen hated a lot of things, but one of his least favourites of all time was "true love". He despised when people would describe their love for another as "true love". It couldn't possibly be that serious. Just say you loved your partner. That was probably the extent feelings got to anyways— you just so happened to like each other at the same time. To him that was plenty of a feat alone, why would you have to make it sound like more than it is? For the sake of love? Ridiculous.

To him, that was truly all love was. If there was someone who liked him when he happened to like them too, that was enough. No need for years of pining, no need to get attached to some unrequited love. All that noise about love and destiny surely wasn't all that necessary.

Now, this wasn't to say that he didn't wish to find love— because he did. Like any other person, he truly wished to be loved. It was just that what he had in mind wasn't some deep pure love that'd last forever, nor was it a promise for eternity. He just wished for a light-hearted "I love you" here and there with someone he found special.

And for that, anyone would do. He'd find someone who fancied him along the way, and hopefully he'd like them back. That was all there was to it.

This meant his plan for finding his partner was sitting around and waiting. As horribly lame as that sounded, because he was Narumi Gen, this wasn't that hopeless of a plan. So, that's what he did. He'd go around saving people and doing his duties (to the absolute bare minimum) while making sure he was constantly trending, hoping that one day, someone would like him.

Today he was standing around for a solid five extra minutes after he defeated the honju with ease, hoping the media would snap some nice pictures of him, or he'd finally charm someone this time.

"Captain, you ought to stop that," you said. "It's rather embarrassing, you look desperate now."

"Oh, would you shut up," he said. "You're ruining my good name!"

You snorted. "What good name," you scoffed.

"I'm starting to think its your fault I'm not charming anyone. Perhaps if you didn't stop me every time, someone would have found me by now," he said.

"Yeah, right. Captain Ashiro seems to be having no issues charming people and I've never seen her try to," you said.

"You little shit," he said.

"Besides they're going to be utterly disappointed if they think this is what you're like and then they find out what you're… actually like," you said, and he was starting to think you wanted him to fire you. "It's okay. Someone will see how you're actually lovely at times soon."

"What?" he asked, shocked by what you said.

"What?" you replied, confused.

"You— you said lovely," he said quietly. Suddenly he felt flustered.

"Oh," you said, looking away and avoiding eye contact. It wasn't like you didn't mean to say that, but you didn't think it was that big of a deal. Rather, how flustered he sounded took you by surprise. “Well, you’re a little lame but you’re a good guy. Like you pretend you only do it for the media, but I know you’re always checking the alleyways that don’t have as much surveillance just in case, and checking alleyways isn’t something a captain has to do. And we both know the media isn’t writing about anything you do there. Things like that.”

“You never know!” he said, and you snorted.

“Alright then,” you said. “You do you, Captain.”

“I will!” he said back, trying to sound proud.

A week had passed and here he was, doing what he always did after arriving fashionably late to the scene and taking all the kaiju out in a matter of minutes: standing around trying to look good. Because he wanted love, and anyone would do. Anyone who liked him was supposed to do.

...

And yet he wished for you.

He wished that when he woke up, the first thing he would see was you. He wished that you'd smile at him everyday with love and genuine joy the way you did to others, and he wished that you’d smile that way to him alone. He wished that after a long day, he was the one you came home to. He wished from the bottom of his heart that you would always be safe and no harm would ever come your way. He wished that your days were filled with laughter and smiles and he knew he would risk his life to protect that.

It was so unlike him in a way he absolutely hated. True love was supposed to be nonsense and someone being ‘the one’ was supposed to be some dramatic line in a movie. It upset him, that he was so utterly fond of you. Yet, no matter how much it upset him, it didn't change the fact that he was, and he couldn't deny it anymore after trying to ignore it for the full week.

So here he was, acting stupid again, hoping that you’d scold him again or tell him he’s embarrassing himself, because that’s what it’s come down to. He just wanted another reason to talk to you.

But you wouldn’t come to stop him after 10 whole minutes.

“Why aren’t you stopping me?” he asked, irritated.

“Pardon?” you asked, utterly confused.

“Why aren’t you telling me to stop?” he asked again. He was aware how silly he sounded, but he was pissed off that you meant so much to him so he had to take it out on you.

“Because you told me to stop last time??” you replied. “I thought you were going to keep this up until you found yourself a partner.”

“You’re the one who told me to find someone that saw how I was…. lovely…. at times,” he said, but said the lovely very quietly. Remembering that you had described him as lovely made his cheeks burn and he’d rather die than let you see that.

“I mean, yeah. I do think you should,” you said.

“Don’t you notice, though?” he asked quietly, avoiding eye contact. There was a moment of silence.

“I do,” you said, and immediately he looked up to face you. You had a grin on your face and you looked so proud— you looked like you had won a game. Oh, how he hated you.

“You’re so annoying,” he said, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Rich coming from you,” you said.

“So, do you—,” he started to yell before cutting himself off. Carefully, he tried again. “Would you please… uh… be mine…?”

Oh, this is so embarrassing, he thought. Perhaps you’d laugh at him, but he wanted to do this properly, or at the very least try to. He’d be far more than just stupid to mess this up now. He was finally in love.

But your laughter never came. When he looked up your eyes were wide and you looked so flustered, but soon you had the most beautiful smile on your face.

“I would absolutely love to,” you said.

So he kissed you right then and there, because there was nothing he wanted to do more at the moment.

He laughed a little.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“No, nothing,” he said.

There was no way just anyone would do— it had to be you.

[angelpuns]

oh dear, what's that face for Mikey!?

Kid Leo Update today at 5:30pm CDT!!

Last update of the week, enjoy <3

[maliciousalice]

The Janeway Maneuver

[rbtlvr]

fuck it [posts old doodles]

[oifaaa]

Seeing people finally realising Alfred is a bitch and horrible

The world is healing

Honestly I dont think everyone needs to be a alfred hater like mysef just acknowledge that he's not a perfect wee saint obviously personally I'm always gonna dislike him bc he's so tory coded

[pitchcom]

carcar survivor au, 2.2k

When Oscar received his new tribe buff, he knew that this was a chance for a fresh start.

The last vote had been…messy, to say the least. Daniel had approached him and Zhou with an idol and a plan to take out Pierre before he and Yuki could reach the merge and gain more control over the game. Oscar wasn’t naive enough to think that this meant any sort of alliance between them, but he had promised his sisters that he would do anything to try and win.

Yuki stood resolutely away from the rest of the tribe on the boat ride over. Oscar catches a glimpse of his hands, knuckles clenching white against the boat railing. He feels Daniel push past him, towards Yuki and raises an eyebrow at him questioningly.

Daniel turns back towards him. “Yuki’s scared of sharks.” he offers, as if they all hadn’t caused his face to crumple a couple nights ago as Pierre’s name was read over and over.

Oscar watches him walk next to Yuki, slinging an arm over his shoulder. Too soft, he thinks as he watches Yuki loosen his grip on the railing and lean into Daniel’s hold. He looks away towards the horizon as they travel to their new beach.

——

Oscar quickly finds himself escaping to the water well less than an hour after arriving on the new beach.

Strategically, he knows he should be at camp with everyone else. Should be talking to everyone, scouting out tribe dynamics, making first impressions that aren’t a stilted introduction before disappearing. But Oscar was never quite a social butterfly; still awkward at office parties despite working there for 2 years by now, never mind trying to ingratiate himself with 10 other strangers he had just seen briefly at challenges.

A voice interrupts his thoughts. “Huh. I guess you really were getting water. I bet George half a coconut that you were out idol searching already.”

Oscar startles and whirls around to come face to face with a shorter man with curly hair, crooked grin stuck on his face from tribe 1. Ah. He vaguely remembers him from the last challenge.

“Oh. Um. You’re the guy who kept falling off the balance beam, right?” Oscar kicked himself mentally. For all that first impressions mattered in the game, Oscar was failing miserably at them so far.

Balance Beam Guy’s mouth falls into a pout. “Alex already made fun of me for that at camp for three days! I thought that people would be over it by now.” he grumbles, moving next to Oscar to grab the water ladle from him.

“Sorry.” Oscar says, not particularly sorry. “I didn’t have a name for you, so.”

Balance Beam Guy sniffs. “It's Lando, so get that memory out of your head. I don’t need reminders that all of America saw me fail to walk in a straight line. You came over from tribe 3, right? Any deets on alliances, idols, advantages?”

Oscar shakes his head. “Nah, we’re kind of a mess. Daniel burned our idol at the last tribal, so if anyone was able to find it before we got on the boat I wouldn’t know. I’m uh, actually looking for some potential connections here.” And maybe it's a little desperate, a little shameless, but Oscar needed some kind of lifeline. So, even if he had to reveal his hand a little earlier then he would’ve liked, he was hoping the information would be interesting enough to make him worth keeping.

Luckily, Lando’s face breaks into a wide grin as he finishes filling his canteen. “Well, you’re in luck! Don’t tell anyone, but-“ Lando ducks closer, voice dropping to a whisper. “I do happen to be a part of quite a strong alliance with George and Alex. We’re trying to keep it on the downlow for now, but we’re looking for a solid fourth to help us swing a majority. You want in, um-?” Lando trails off, hand reaching out.

“Oscar,” he finishes as he takes Lando’s hand. “And I’d be happy to work with you.”

Lando’s grin slides back into its crooked default. “Great! I’ll tell them about it, and in a little bit we’ll go down to the water and chat. See you back at camp, Osc!”

Oscar’s face twitches a little at the nickname, but he doesn’t say anything as Lando walks away. We’re not friends, he wants to call after Lando. It's just strategy.

Oscar waits 5 minutes after Lando leaves before returning to camp. He gives an awkward half smile when Lando winks at him. Possible strategic liability, he notes to himself.

——

Oscar already considered himself particularly lucky to have fumbled his way through the premerge after losing Logan, not to mention Lando choosing to approach him with the offer of an alliance. In all honesty, he was waiting for the other shoe to drop and hoping it wouldn’t affect his game too badly.

That should’ve been warning already when Carlos decided to approach him on the beach.

Oscar was stretched across the sand, letting the suns rays lull him into a sleep. Half the tribe was out getting a reward (Lando included) leaving the rest of them to sulk around camp and try not to think of all the food the others were eating. Oscar chose to ignore the gnawing disappointment by getting some peace and quiet. Unfortunately, Carlos had other ideas.

“Oscar.” Carlos called from across the sand

Oscar squeezed his eyes closed. Maybe, he reasoned, if he pretended to be asleep already Carlos would get the hint and leave him alone.

“Oscar! Hello?” The voice got closer.

Oscar groaned internally before rolling back over and opening his eyes. He was immediately met with an extreme close up of Carlos, frown painted on his face.

“Why are you sleeping in the sun? Your skin, it will burn no?” were the first words Carlos spoke to him, voice too loud and face still too close.

Oscar blinked at him. “What?”

Carlos’ frown deepens. “Your skin. You will not tan, like this.”

“Well, sorry that not all of us were born with perfect genetics.” Oscar wants to drown this guy and his stupid island beauty in the ocean. “Why are you here anyways? Aren’t you supposed to be plotting the next vote with Max or something?”

Carlos’ face lights up. “Ah! That is what I have come to talk to you about!” He says, ignoring the obvious dismissal as he takes a seat next to Oscar on the sand. “You see, I have noticed that you sit alone at camp quite a lot. So, I assume that you do not have an alliance yet!”

Oscar raises an eyebrow. “And what if I have a secret alliance with somebody else? Like Daniel, or Zhou?”

Carlos laughs, a cackle that sounds almost painful. “I have already talked to both of them, and they both say they have no tribe loyalty.”

“They might be lying, you know. Trying to lull you into a false sense of security and all that.”

Carlos grins, a big dopey thing. “Between you and them I think I believe them more. No offense, Oscar.”

Oscar wills back the growing irritation beneath his skin. He’s dealt with annoying over-confident and underestimating assholes before. He knows how to play this game. “You got me. Totally friendless and ally-less on this island. Probably the most boring castaway ever.” He drones, almost completely monotone.

Carlos frowns. “Do not say that, Oscar.” Ozz-car. “I am sure you are a very wonderful person. If you were not, I would not be here asking you to join my alliance.”

“You’re here to ask me to join your alliance?”

Carlos blinks, then snaps his fingers. “Ah! Yes! I have come here to ask you to join me, Charles, and Max at the next vote!” Carlos looks at Oscar eagerly, as if he should be jumping at his generous offer. “Since you have said yourself that you have no allies, we could help carry you farther in the game. It is a mutually beneficial partnership, no?”

Oscar snorts internally. “Beneficial for you, yes. For me? What happens when it comes down to me or Charles? Me or Max? Mate, I’m not stupid. I know there are hierarchies in alliances, and I’d be at the bottom. I don’t want to be just some fucking sheep you bring with you until the time is right.”

Carlos looks a little lost at this. Clearly, his plan to swoop in and grab a vote didn’t go as smoothly as he thought. Serves him right, Oscar thinks bitterly. It’d probably be the first time his stupid cow eyes and smooth accent didn’t get him what he wanted.

Oscar watches him wiggle his jaw for a couple of seconds, lost in thought. He sighs internally, before turning back over and closing his eyes again. “Look mate, I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got my own alliance. Find somebody else to be your number.”

Oscar doesn’t hear anything for a moment, then feels sand being kicked against his skin as Carlos gets up. “Fine. But I will not be so nice later after Tribal Council, when my alliance controls the vote. See you later, Oscar.”

Fuck that guy, Oscar thinks. He ends up staying out on the sand to spite him. He ignores the smirk Carlos gives him later as Lando laughs and pokes at his sunburned back.

——

Later, after Max wins the immunity challenge, George asks him who he’s thinking of voting tonight.

“I dunno, but I think Carlos is a good choice. Breaking up that alliance before they get a foothold in the game is probably a good idea. “ Oscar says, feigning nonchalance. It’s purely strategic, he tells himself.

George nods. “And you’re sure you can get Daniel and Zhou to vote with us?”

“Course he can!” Alex says, laying an arm around Oscars shoulder with an easy smile. “And even if he can’t, I think we’ll survive to another day. I mean, nobody even knows we’re allied. There's no way they think that a bunch of lanky and short guys are bigger threats than someone like Valterri or Fernando.”

Oscar nods along, a smile growing despite himself as he watches Lando shove Alex for calling him short. This is my endgame, he thinks to himself.

——

George is trembling on the way back from tribal. From rage or shock, Oscar doesn’t know. Lando is silent for once, white-knuckled grip on his pack and lips pursed into a sharp line.

Alex going home tonight was not part of the plan. They were supposed to have the numbers, with Lewis, Valterri, Zhou, and Daniel voting with them. I guess they found their number, Oscar thought bitterly and he watched Daniel and Max whisper to each other up ahead.

It was a good move. If Oscar were at home watching, he would be applauding them for identifying the threat within the tribe and dealing a significant blow to them. But now, as he was forced to trudge back to camp minus Alex, Oscar just feels a sort of sourness in his stomach.

This feeling is only amplified when they arrive back at camp, and Carlos turns to him with a big smile on his face. Oscar doesn’t think it's dopey anymore.

“I told you, Oscar!” Carlos sings to him as Oscar is trying to dig for his jacket in his pack. “I told you we would control the vote. Are you rethinking my offer now? Though, I think we are less in need of ‘sheep’ now.”

Oscar rethinks every post he’s ever made on Twitter calling out contestants for being butthurt for being on the wrong side of the vote. Tries to school his expression, tries to steady his breathing and refrain himself from punching Carlos straight in the face.

“Fuck off.” Is what he settles for instead, a shove that barely makes Carlos stumble. Oscar can hear his cackling laugh echo through the night air as he stomps down to the beach to meet with George and Lando.

“What the fuck just happened.” George starts. “We were supposed to be safe- We were not supposed to be the targets! It was supposed to be Fernando, or Valterri, or even fucking Lewis-“

”I just don’t understand how they knew,” Lando stresses, hand pulling through his curls. “We were keeping it a secret and everything!”

Oscar doesn’t say anything, because the sour feeling in his stomach has just curdled. Nobody said anything about an alliance, he realises, except for him. Except for that stupid throwaway line to Carlos on the beach. A throwaway line that he then latched onto, analyzed, and deduced a potential member from.

The guilt eats at him, in the silence. Nobody speaks for a bit. Oscar is about to open his mouth and apologize when Lando says “Franco.”

They both turn to look at him. ”Franco was in our old tribe, he voted with them tonight. He must’ve figured it out.” Lando continues.

And it’s an out. An easy way to avoid blame, to explain away the sudden target of Alex. Oscar only feels slightly bad when he nods along. After all, it makes perfect sense.

They talk for a little more, discuss further plans of action. But there is only one fact repeating in Oscars head by the time they get back to camp:

Carlos Sainz is bad for his game.

[ickyguts]

zombie flaky for the soul

[verflares]

collection of some loz origin au stuff i've been chipping away at for awhile now ^_^ with a healthy amount of dunmeshi insp for good measure LOL (the ooccoo isnt relevant she's just here for size comparison purposes)

feat my beloved good friend @linkvcr's hylia design also. because i am obsessed with her and you should be too 🫵

[wu-does-art]

so many times in fics ive seen people describe mike giving will awestruck eyes while he's just laughing about something, and i think thats really neat!

[sernik-krakowski]

crawls out of the ground zombie style drops this off and then scurries into the dirt once more

[cyanide-sippy-cup]

Whoever decided to put the Batfam member who's supposed to come from a dark place in life and understands how slippery the slope really is when it comes to falling into crime in the fucking Kite Man show and have her mindlessly impale a guy should be slapped. Once for making a Kite Man show and once for Steph.

Like she's not above killing people. She's not like Bruce who refuses to take a life ever. She'd blow the Joker's fucking head off if given the chance. But she's supposed to understand the regular dudes. She understands the importance of a life. She knows that guy's probably got family at home, or at least deserves to be given a chance. It took a long time before anybody gave her a chance, she knows how hard it is in that life.

Then again it's a spinoff of the Harley Quinn show so what did I expect.

[gomzdrawfr]

Evanescence

it's now or never

Prev | Next(?)

also on Ao3 tags: canon divergence, angst and fluff, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence and behaviours, major character death (MCD), mention of MW3 content

38 hours ago...

The tent was quiet, save for the rustling sound of Price working his rifle, clean and clinical, repetitive and comforting as he swiped the cloth across the weapon time and time again. A soldier’s meditation, though tonight it brought little comfort.

Raven sat by the cot, her gaze flicking over the mission dossier for the fifth time, black hair falling in soft waves that she tucked behind her ear with practised, almost annoyed motions. The moonlight filtered through the tent’s fabric and framed her figure, highlighting the tension in her shoulders.

She’d been like this ever since the trip.

Tense, distant, yet always close enough to remind him of the rift between them. 

They were fine, but not fine. They were not arguing, they were not talking much either.

He’d mucked it up, didn’t he? Trying to shield her away only made a huge dent in their relationship. Her silence wasn’t outright anger either, it was worse—calculated distance, the kind you’d use to guard a fragile truce. He would feel her gaze on him, pensive, heavy with thoughts, but the eye contact never lasted long.

Afraid of what she’d find in those blue eyes of his, perhaps.

He’d been wrong to think leaving her on the island was the answer. Wrong to think even suggesting it wouldn’t do damage. He’d only been trying to protect her—his birdie—only to plant a seed of doubt, one that was now growing wild between them.

He hadn’t the faintest clue how to uproot it without tearing them apart in the process.

Feelings. 

Messy things. Unpredictable. Dangerous. 

He’d spent a lifetime building walls between himself and the world. That’s why this—they—were forbidden in the first place. Love was ravenous. It consumed him because he had always been selfish with the things he loved. Tugged at his heart and twisted it into knots he wasn’t trained to untangle. Whispers curled in his mind like a serpent, whispers about a promised future, something soft, something real—things he didn’t have the right to want, much less to keep. 

It was everything John feared. And everything he needed.

Letting Raven in had been a gamble. But then again, it wasn’t like he’d had a choice. The most unexpected encounters soften a man the most, and he’d already carved a place for her in his heart. Trying to push her out now was as fruitless as stopping the moon from orbiting the Earth. 

He’d like to think he’s smart, he is, but sometimes he wished he’s not a dumb fuck when it comes to people he cares.

He sees her place the papers aside. She rubs her cheek, puts down her mask, and turns away, she was so damn composed that it drove him mad sometimes. How she could compartmentalize everything so clearly, yet refuse to bring up what actually mattered? 

Well, the same way he did, he supposed.  

Price had spent years waging wars on battlefields, but this? Fighting his own emotions while trying to mend hers? It felt like wading through quicksand blindfolded. His hands faltered for a moment, the cloth dropping onto the floor. He grumbled as he set his weapon aside, rubbing a hand over his beard as he leaned forward, the creak of his knees cutting through the silence.

I’m not getting any younger, yet here I am, a bloody Captain, tiptoeing around emotions like a lad out of his fucking depth.

Grow a spine, John. You’ve faced worse. Enough of this bollocks. 

Love makes him vulnerable, makes his mind cloudy, makes him think of the person next to him instead of the damn mission. Two of them in a small tent, trying to make sense of something they were never trained for, something that doesn't follow a neat box of objectives and outcomes. 

Price sat up, his heavy footstep thumped softly on the ground as the oil lamp went dark with a twist of his fingers. He moved towards her cot, slow and deliberate, like approaching a wounded cat. 

The cot dipped under his weight as he pressed a knee into it. Instinctively, Raven turned and curled into his side, pressing her face into his shoulder. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her close, planting a small kiss into the black of her hair.

This. These quiet moments were the only time he felt like she truly let him in, when the weight of the day dissolved into silence and the world outside didn’t matter. 

Forget about the mission, the fishing trip, the look on her face when he’d told her he was leaving.

The tension is still there evidently, her breathing steady but shallow, never fully resting. The tension between them didn’t vanish, but it softened here, in each other’s arms.

Price shifted slightly, cradling her close to his chest, careful not to disturb her. Though she doubted she was asleep. She rarely was, not fully, certainly not during these few weeks. Her head rested against his chest, and he felt the faint rhythm of her heartbeat when their chests were pressed together. 

He took a deep inhale, catching the familiar hint of smoke and tobacco from her hair. 

Smoking again.

You’re the one to talk, burning through your boxes like there’s no tomorrow.

When was the last time he smelled that faint lemon shampoo she used to wear? The one that clung to her after long showers, fresh like Summer. Probably before they had to leave it all behind—before Shepherd.

Before one bullet erased everything they’d built together.

He winched internally at the memory, a weight he hadn’t learned to carry properly. That bloke deserved it, but with every fleeting look she gave him, every touch she offered, even with the warmth of her body against his now, they all carried the same unspoken question.

Will you leave me again, John?

It killed him, that doubt.

His hand slipped into her hair, fingers brushing through the strands absentmindedly. He supposed they weren’t completely lost yet, not if she still allowed him to join her in sleep. But time is running out, so will her patience.  

“Tomorrow’s going to be rough,” he mumbled, voice low and gravelly.

I might lose you tomorrow.

Her arms wrapped around his chest tightened briefly before it relaxed, an answer.

Price sighs, placing another kiss on her head, his lips lingered longer than usual.

Can I kiss all your doubts away, love?

Don’t be daft, no time to be soft, got a mission to finish.

Price closed his eyes, squeezing her shoulders softly, rubbing his bearded face onto the side of her neck, smiling at the shiver from her. 

Tomorrow, he promised himself as he drifted into a restless sleep. 

He’d find the right words tomorrow. 

The mission had gone sideways, to no one’s surprise.

A tip-off that was supposed to lead them to their target turned out to be a trap, and they were ambushed. The once quiet jungle was now alive with tension, every corner every sound—rustling leaves, broken twigs, bullets whizzing through the air with commands and screams in all corners. Raven moved like a shadow beside him, precise and silent movement to dispatch the enemies one by one until they were separated.

Price spotted her through the chaos after God knows how long, her back pressed against a tree as gunfire rained down.

And then it happened.

One of the enemies flanked her, she hadn’t seen them. 

His chest twisted with a grief he hadn’t allowed himself to feel as the enemy’s finger curled on the trigger, not for Soap, not for anyone. He wouldn’t let Raven become another name carved into the graveyard of his failures. 

He couldn’t.

Time slowed. Adrenaline surged. Price moved without hesitation, the need to protect her overriding every other thought as he sprinted towards her.

“Raven! Down!” He barked out, tackling her to the ground just as the crack of a rifle echoed through the air. 

Everything else that happened afterwards was a blur, ignoring the white-hot pain ripping through him, Price didn’t falter as he turned his knife on the operator, sinking down into the flesh and slashed. He didn’t stop, couldn’t, not until the enemy was silent, lifeless beneath him.

And then he dropped, the bloody knife slipped from his hand as his strength seeped away through the red, slumping forward as the taste of copper flooded his mouth.

Blood spilled over his lip as he coughed, each breath a struggle.

“Price!”

Raven’s voice was distant at first, her panicked scream barely cutting through the dizzying haze. Her hands were on him, dragging his heavy body away, leaving a trail of red coating the green leaves until they were under some form of cover, her hands pressing into the wound desperately to stop the bleeding. His vision swimming, his hearings muffled.

But somewhere in the confusion, he felt something warm dripping down his cheek.

Raven doesn’t cry, she hated crying, hated the feeling of weakness, a luxury she couldn’t afford in their line of work. But everything from the last trip—the hurt, the misunderstandings, the constant nagging doubt in her mind that refuses to die out, the constant reminder of how fleeting their connection was, how fragile human life—his life—was bubbled to the surface.

The wine glass shattered, splintering into a thousand pieces as the liquid splashed over everything.

Tears pricked at her eyes, spilling over her mask and cheek before she could stop them, each roll of those tears felt like acid. 

Not now not now not now not now not now not now—

“Why are you so desperate to leave me?” the sound of her voice, fractured and raw, the pain in her tone pierced him deeper than the bullet below his abdomen.

“Why…why do you always leave?” Her words spilled out just like her tears did, completely beyond her control as she pressed harder into his wound. The warm blood coated her gloved hands like lava.

Too hot, too much.

His trembling hand reached up to her, brushing against her wet cheek before he coughed again, blood bubbling in his throat. It felt like he was drowning, but he forced the words out.

It’s now or never. 

“Never… in my life… would I want to leave you. Never, Raven…” He swallowed hard, feeling as if he might regurgitate the blood again.

“I just want you safe…”

“Then why?” She demanded, trying desperately to regain any resemblance of composure and control, but it fails and slipped away, just like-

“Why do you keep making me watch you slip away?” 

Price really shouldn’t be laughing, he cracked a pained smile instead. Is this what you think, birdie? Maybe I’m not the only one daft in this relationship.

“Because I can’t…lose you. Not you.” He coughed, the sound wet and strained. 

“I’d rather…it be me….every time.”

Her grip on the nape of his neck tightened as she shook her head furiously. “That’s not your choice to make, John! I’ve told you already—y-you don’t get to decide that for me!”

She heaved, watching his blood on her palm, then back at him, panic and dread coiling around her throat, tightening with each word that felt like a losing game, but she persisted.

It’s now or never.

“I'm not here to watch you destroy yourself trying to save everyone, trying to save me. I’m here because I chose you.” She gripped his neck, forcing him to keep eye contact on her.

“So you damn bloody well choose me too, Jonathan Price.”

John’s eyes widened just a fraction, and for a moment, the chaos around them faded away, leaving only the two of them.

There was no hesitation in his immediate reply. “Always. Over and over…I’ll choose you. I promise.”

Her eyes softened for a fraction before determination hardened her expression. “You better, John. Because I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”

She scrambled to her feet, lifting him up despite his weak protests. “You’re not dying on me today, Captain,” she grunted out, her tone brooking no arguments.

He smirked faintly, even if everything hurt.

“Yes, ma’am”. 

Back at their camp, After Price lay bandaged but alive. Raven slumped against the bed beside him, exhaustion etched into her features but her hand never leaving him, resting on his lap, still wearing the bloodied uniform.

Price stirred, brushing a trembling finger against her temple.

“You’re not going anywhere…” he murmured quietly, watching her eyes open slowly.

“Not unless you push me away again…” she replied hoarsely, a gentle warning. 

His jaw tightened as he shook his head. “Never. Not ever again.” 

I’ve made some cock-ups in my time, but none bigger than hurtin’ you. 

I’ll be damned if I let you think for a second more that you don’t matter.

He cupped her cheek, sighing as his thumb brushed her skin. 

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes, Eira…but losing you won’t be one of them…”

For the first time since they left the island, she smiled, dimples deepening—a real smile, small and slightly crooked, genuine. 

Price couldn’t help the faint chuckle that escaped him. 

“I could bloody murder for a smoke right now…”

“I think you lost them in the middle of the op”

“Bloody hell…” he muttered, shaking his head with half-mocked despair. Raven smirked slightly, stretching out her stiff shoulders.

“We should…go out,” Price said after a moment of silence, reaching out as he fiddled absently with a pale strand of her hair. He wondered briefly if the white strands peeking through the black were dyed or something she’d never mentioned.

There was still a lot between them left unexplored and unresolved. 

“You can’t walk,” She pointed out, patting his bandage gently for emphasis. 

He huffed a quiet laugh. “No, I meant…once I’m patched up, I’ll take you out. Dinner, a trip, whatever you want. We need to talk about this…about us.”

Can’t let another life-and-death situation force out our confessions. Raven tilted her head, a hum of thought escaping her as a flicker of surprise passed through her gaze. “Abusing your sick leave, are you?”

“Not much I can do with a punctured organ,” he deadpanned.

“Touche…” She sighed, not entirely meeting his gaze yet.

“Birdie…”

She clicked her tongue, relenting as she nodded her head. “Alright, alright. Yeah…fine we’ll talk about it and go somewhere I suppose.” 

A wave of contentment settled over him as he leaned back into the pillow, a small smile graced his lips.

I’ll stop being a daft bastard for you, birdie. 

“Where to?” he asked. 

“....fishing?” she offered after a moment, and Price blinked a few times. “...Really?” The corner of his lips twitched slightly in guilt. “I…thought you would’ve resented the idea after…what I did.”

She chuckled quietly, smoothing out her hair.  “Well, we’ll do it my way this time.”

[aroaceleovaldez]

i would like to say my ideal PJO adaptation (if i was being physically forced against my will to have to pick a live action adaptation over an animated one for some reason) would be a combo like writing of the musical + casting of the show + visuals of the movies

BUT the show actually does have the playwright for the musical as one of the major writers for like three episodes and that did nothing for it. so...