#ii. verse › modern I .

[bigassmoonchild]

Feral

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

The first three parts give context, but aren't required for this read.

Summary: You had your problems with your squad, no different than anyone else running their first. One Alpha, Michael, gave you the most problems, dragging you from leave to punish them all. It didn't take long for him to become your biggest problem, or for Simon to try and take care of him.

Content Tags: Shouting (not w/ between Ghost & Reader), A lot of Anger, Fluff, Protective Ghost, Violence, Fighting, Ghost shows his Face, Non-Sexual Punishments, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost, No use of Y/N

A/N: I woke up this morning with over 100 notifications from tumblr, and I've spent all morning trying to think of another part for Maple Syrup. As always, content is under the cut and my asks are wide open <3.

Part 1 | Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist

Ghost could watch you forever. Seeing how you flit around the soldiers, taking care of each of them, barking orders at your own little squad. After being removed from missions, you were able to convince whoever would listen to give you a squad to train, a group of hopeful combat medics.

Sometimes he would find himself watching what you were doing, and he would inch himself close enough to hear what you'd be telling them. Sometimes, it was nothing short of you screaming at them, other times it might be explaining how to stitch someone up. Most times, you sat back and watched as they worked through the exercise that you had created for them.

You were still off on leave, leaving your squad under the hands of Soap and Gaz to train them further on combat situations. Ghost had spoken with them a few times, listening to them rant about the soldiers you had to deal with. Especially one Alpha, who had been demoted from a regular soldier to being entrusted with saving others.

So when Ghost got the first hint of your scent, not the stale one, his head spun to the doors. Your leave was supposed to last another 6 days, not that Ghost was counting, and worry spiked through him. Had something happened? Was everything okay with your family, or did you merely forget one of the gifts you were giving to your nieces and nephews?

When the door slammed open, your eyes gazed across the mess hall. Your brows were furrowed and Ghost could smell the anger lacing your scent, alongside the musty smell of the rain that was coming down. The room had gone silent, everyone looking over at you. Your eyes locked on your squad, body tensed.

"Get the fuck outside," you growled, staring through your squad. They hesitated and your fist slammed into the wall. "Now!" You shouted, watching as they scrambled up and moved. All but the Alpha, who moved leisurely. Your eyes didn't leave his and you pointed. "You move any slower and I'll have you dishonorably discharged for insubordination," the man didn't flinch.

He gave a smile, looking at you. "You're not even a soldier, you have no say in what I do," your muscles relaxed, leaning your head back, eyes falling closed. Ghost stood, moving towards the two of you, opening his mouth to say something.

"You're on my squad, you do as I say, unless you want me to remove you. You want this to be your last strike?" The Alpha looked away, opening his mouth to make a remark.

"I'm sure there isn't going to be a problem, is there?" Ghost finally spoke up, moving beside the man and staring down at him. The Alpha scoffed and walked away, leaving you looking around.

You gave a soft smile. "Leave your stuff, it'll be cleaned up," and you turned and walked away, adjusting a hood onto your head. Ghost stared after you before walking back to Soap and Gaz, sitting beside them again.

"What the hell happened?"

You stood in the rain, having grabbed another jacket to protect you from the chill of the wind, alongside the rain beating against you. Your squad was running until they collapsed or someone admitted who caused the problems. You knew, though, that the stubborn Alpha in your squad was always the problem.

"You need to get back here," Soap said into the phone. "I honestly don't know what to do with them," and you booked a flight.

Now you were waiting, patiently. Someone would give in soon enough, someone always did. There would always be a weak link, and if it took running them until they threw up so be it. A hand fell on your shoulder and you looked back, eyes climbing to find Ghost standing behind you.

"I've never heard you scream," you laughed, looking back to your squad. The Alpha ran at the front of them, no reaction to the amount of running he was doing. You were pretty sure he had lapped everyone at some point, but you weren't paying close enough attention.

You looked back to Ghost. "You have most definitely heard me scream, just not angrily. Soap called, said that the squad was getting out of control and they didn't know what to do," you sighed. "I thought I taught them better, but I guess I haven't treated them exactly like soldiers," Ghost hummed behind you, eyes trailing the Alpha.

A shiver ran through you and Ghost pulled you back into him, letting you soak in his own warmth. "Does he always give you problems?" You nodded, letting him take on your weight as you leaned against him.

"There is rarely a day that goes by when he doesn't give some form of lip, but everyone's grown used to it, I guess," you whispered, sighing deeply. It bothered you, so much, that you couldn't get all of your squad to act like it. Like a pack. "He's just trying to take control back. He was kicked from his last squad because of similar problems, speaking down on Betas and Omegas," Ghosts scent changed a little, but you weren't able to decipher what it was before it had disappeared.

Neither of you spoke for some time, merely watching the group of wanna-be's run around and around. You wanted to be back home, with your family and watching the little ones run around, not some grown adults. You just wanted to be able to control the squad like other people, but you needed a break. So you went on leave, but came back too soon.

There wasn't much of choice, though. Either let Soap and Gaz keep getting eaten alive, or you come back and beat them back down, but maybe if you talked to Simon he would've been able to help. No, this was your squad, they were your responsibility. You'd have to be a Drill Sergeant, and it was already giving you a headache.

You pushed off Ghost, watching as one of the Omegas stumbled before righting herself. You gave a deep sigh. "Get over here!" You shouted over the rain and wind. As everyone gathered, you glared through them. "I am not your mother. I shouldn't be coming back from leave early because your senior officers are unable to control you," you huffed, looking away for a moment.

The rain still pattered down, and the Alpha was looking away. You couldn't decipher how you felt about him, but you knew it was heavy dislike. Something about the man made you uncomfortable.

"You'd expect a group of adults to behave better than a group of pups, but I suppose none of you have grown," the Alpha opened his mouth to speak and Ghost took a step forward, daring him to make a comment. "I haven't been treating you as soldiers, clearly, so from now on you'll be meeting up with Task Force 141 to being your morning training," a smile graced your features.

You'd spoken with Price briefly over the phone on your flight back. It didn't take much to convince him, and his tone gave you the chills once or twice as he described what he could do. You didn't mention anything to Ghost. You weren't entirely sure what he would do if he found out you were being dragged away from your family because of a problem child.

Everything was still in the air, what you would end up doing with them. As you gazed across, the only person not having any form of regret was the Alpha. Michael. If you could, you would have rejected him from being a part of your team. You'd read his file, it was nothing short of infraction after infraction.

You gave a deep breath. "You're going to go into the mess hall and clean it, if I come in there tomorrow and find even a crumb you'll be stuck cleaning it every day until you leave," no one moved. "What are you waiting for?" They scattered into the wind, Michael still taking everything at his own speed.

Ghost grabbed his soldier, eyes not leaving the mans. "You'll be with me," and you watched him get dragged away. You were finally free to take a warm shower, perhaps curl into your nest for some sleep you'd lost while traveling.

It was late in the evening when you heard from Simon. He had walked into your room, taking his boots off and crawling next to you in your nest. His balaclava scratched at your neck as he scented you, brushing his cheek against you.

You turned the page in your book, letting the large Alpha nearly curl around you. Your fingers found the top of his head, scratching at him over the balaclava. Yet to see his face, you never pushed it. It was none of your business to push him, even as his mate.

You could hear him chuffing softly, nose digging into your neck slightly. It was quiet for some time, outside of the chuffing of Simon and the pages turning from your book. His hands were around you, tugging you closer to him as your fingers continued scratching.

The chuffing quieted, a bothered grunt coming from him. "Want to feel your hand," he muttered, tugging at his balaclava before being able to pull it off entirely.

You didn't look, didn't move, just kept on reading as your fingers found hair. That made you pause, brows furrowed as you turned to look at him from where he returned to your neck, his chuffs returning.

Purring, you tugged him to look at you, book falling from your hand. Simon groaned softly, trying to pull his head out of your grip. A quiet be still, coming from you before he paused, eyes opening to glance down at you.

Scars littered his face, your fingers finding some of the larger ones to stroke at, trying to memorize every part of his face. You could see his cheeks growing a little red and you laughed softly, pressing your hands to his cheeks.

"Little embarrassed of being looked at so thoroughly?" Simon looked away, finally pulling out of your grip and hiding his face back against your neck. You could feel him lick you slightly, laying down a nip or two, his hands tugging you against him again.

It was a few moments later that either of you finally said anything. "What did you do with Michael?" Simon huffed against you, a quiet who?, coming from him. "The Alpha you pulled away from the rest of the squad," you added.

Simon pulled away to look at you fully. "Nothing illegal," you looked at him, smile dropping. He gave you a little grin. "Just gave him some things to do to get all of his energy out, he had a little too much to be acting that way," you laughed.

The next morning, you had a knock on your office door. "Come in," it wasn't anyone you would've expected. Not Ghost, nor Soap or Gaz. Michael.

He slammed his hands on your desk and leaned over it. "I want out," you raised your brows. "I'm not gonna let some little doctor think she can control me," you gave out a deep sigh. "And what about Ghost? You fuck him to get where you are?"

"My relationship with the Lieutenant is none of your business, soldier," you answered, crossing your legs. "You want out? You leave this squad and it's the last place you'll be. You know you can't join the military again if you get discharged. Too many infractions," you shrugged, pulling his file out of your desk. He looked at it.

Lunging for it, you pulled it out of his reach. "Who the hell gave that to you?" You laughed at him, his scent changing to something reeking of anger. God, why were you able to smell him? "Or, is it because you're an Omega?" He smiled shortly.

You stood. "You haven't been taking your suppressants as prescribed, have you?" There was no other answer for why he was so angry constantly. Without a consistent dosage, the androstenone in him would be too high to think properly. He could go feral.

Lunging for your phone, you were only able to get one number dialed before he threw it into the wall. "A little Omega bitch, fucking Ghost in order to get where she is," he snorted. The door was cracked open still, but Michael was in the way. There was no leaving.

Looking away, you blinked slowly. "I'm assuming this is how you were removed from your last squad," he threw your chair into the wall and you opened the file.

"You have no right to read that, you bitch," he growled, trying to grab it over your desk. You pulled it back, Michael growling deep in his chest. "You're gonna give me that, or I'm gonna fucking kill you," you could feel your heart in your stomach. Sure, you could fight but it was nothing with an almost feral Alpha trying to kill you.

Glancing around, you had to look for something to hopefully protect yourself with. A man like Michael could easily kill you, you didn't doubt it. One wrong punch and you'd be in the infirmary, another and you could be out of it. Forever.

"You touch her and you'll find out why I'm feared," Simon. You could feel the relief coursing through you. He wouldn't let anything happen to you, let alone allow another Alpha to hurt you. You looked between the two, seeing Michaels face slowly start to drop.

You dove under your desk the second either of them moved, a growl ripping through the area as you heard a body slam into the wall in front of you. You knew the fear on your scent would be pungent, especially to Ghost.

And it was. He could smell it from down the hall, causing a spark of fear to course through himself. The only other thing he could smell was another Alpha, and he hoped to god he wouldn't be too late. When he opened the door just a tad bit more, he heard the threats.

It set something off in him that he hadn't felt in a long, long time. He didn't hesitate before throwing the other Alpha into the wall, seeing you dive under your desk in his peripheral. His fists found the man, but it barely did anything. A feral Alpha would do anything to kill whoever he saw, and Ghost could hear shouts coming from the hall.

Michael charged at Ghost, who braced for impact, colliding with him and being dragged into the hall and on the wall across from your office. Ghosts knee found Michael gut, throwing him onto the ground and climbing over him.

Some MP's had come careening down the hall, guns up and shouting commands. Ghost tried holding the man down, but it didn't do too much before he was bucked off and climbing to his feet. The fear was still pungent on your scent and it set Ghost off.

He couldn't do anything before gunshots echoed down the hall and Michael collapsed. A few tranq darts scattered along his back.

Ghost was put on administrative leave, pending investigation. You'd used the rest of your leave to be able to stay with him and for the entire duration you weren't out of his eyesight.

Showering? He was standing against the far wall, staring through the doorway.

Trying to use the bathroom? The locks on your bathroom doors had never been used more, and when you left he would be standing in front of it.

For some time you had also been far to shaken to let Simon leave your eyesight. There was nothing he would do that you weren't following him for, his showers left you sitting on the counter and talking to him, even without a response. You didn't go into the bathroom with him, but sat by the door as your eyes flittered around to each corner of the room, looking for feral Alphas.

Before either of you became more comfortable, Simon wouldn't even go into your nest. He would sit outside of it, never moving much at all. It took you panicking in the middle of the night for him to start going back inside of your nest.

Neither of you knew what the future would look like, but as long as you had each other, you figured you'd be alright.

Next

[gildedlife]

@bluedprints liked.

he hasn’t seen this man before, james realizes, as he briefly—politely—tracks his entry from the left of the room. there’s a halo cast around him, faint but unpleasant, and james isn’t sure if it’s merely a memory of the effects of his arctic journey or if his weak eye still plays such tricks with an image.

he doesn’t feel up to introductions, which he’s been lucky enough not to have to do thus far.

‘ you’re not an agent, are you? ’ he asks, meaning of insurance, with a playful tone that once came easily. now it cracks at the slightest pressure, revealing its hollowness. ‘ surely we’d have met. you must be with one of the companies? ’

[quietlyblooms]

now that i’ve officially posted about mal on here, i’d like to say that yes, he favors chiyo — he’s a fan of her manga and art, and it’s possible that he sort of?? knows her fate. vaguely. he has a sense about these things and has children who actually do see mortals’ fates. i think mal just kinda has a gut feeling — that’s a lil more rooted in his magic than just being a hunch — that chiyo will not have a quiet life. so he gifts her the sight to see danger before it gets to her.

except she never understands what she’s seeing. as a child, she and her parents thought her visions were just night terrors. there were child therapy sessions, possibly medication. then the visions stopped. then her art grew a little dark; she went back to the child therapist. then chiyo started hiding her pictures until she stopped having the urge to draw such scary things.

jun, her familiar, i think appeared to her bc of mal. he was a safety precaution. jun has a heightened sixth sense, can sense the intentions of another as either good or bad when they approach chiyo. she wasn’t seeing any warnings, so mal sent jun to chiyo so that she didn’t have to, and tbh? that frustrated mal as much as it worried him. use the gift he gave you!! like dang girl 😭 i haven’t decided yet, but eventually i might even?? decide that jun is a different kind of being altogether for this reason. mal is watching this woman like “ pls don’t die you buffoon ” and then ofc she ends of dying and becoming a vampire despite all his efforts asdfgh there’s more i could ramble on about, but i fear this post is getting a lil long :’ )

[enjomo-arch]

an edit i did for modern ace tehee

[hatigave]

@neverhangd said : i’d probably get high and crash or somethin’ stupid. to Adelé

IT IS A THREAT SHE HAS HEARD often enough for it to follow her into her dreams. Broken glass and suspicious white contents left in bathroom stalls mean little to her after all these years. Even when she would much rather prefer life without the cleanup. Loud music is the score on which she nearly dances behind the bar ; A BASEBALL BAT KEPT NEXT TO TOWELS DRENCHED IN BEER and a bag containing weed resting between the clean glasses. For later, she tells herself when she pulls it out to show Anne as an unspoken promise.

She likes the other woman, likes her even more when she gets to spend the early morning hours stoned out of her mind bitching at her after the daily cleanup. ❝ As long as you don't throw up like a fucking cunt, you're welcome to get high with me once these fucking losers leave. ❞

[kaerinio]

𝐕. 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐋 ( 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐈𝐈 ) cw: abuse, pregnancy, child loss, violence

growing up, safety was a scarce thing, always just beyond reach, brushing and then evading her fingertips. since dany was a little girl, running and moving from place-to-place, bookstores and libraries have been a safe haven. these are the places where she could learn when she wasn't enrolled in school; they are where she could seek comfort from store owners and librarians; they are where she could go to hide from viserys: all his harm and fear and schemes. surrounded by books, dany could escape and throw herself into stories so different from her own reality. between the ink, she could breathe and experience lives filled with joy and adventure and love. viserys fantasized about reclaiming the luxurious life and power stolen from them, but daenerys . . . she dreamt of opening a bookstore.

at eighteen, daenerys marries the wealthy drogo as a part of one of viserys' schemes. he's a friend of one of their father's so-called close friends, and with this marriage, viserys sees an opening to go after all who wronged their family. during this time, dany studies, attaining her ged before attending university, where she studies literature, leaning fully into the subject that provided her so much happiness when she was little. she's deeply active in her community, as well, utilizing drogo's connections and money to raise awareness for various causes, gather/distribute resources, and create waves for change. with drogo, dany enjoys her first taste of safety, of security, of stability. she has friends to call her own, dreams to call her own, a life to call her own. at twenty-one, she learns she's pregnant with rhaego, and for the first time, dany feels the hope of family. but, at her baby shower, viserys appears, demanding what he's owed, and he threatens not only dany, but her son. drogo shoots viserys. soon after this event, the beautiful bubble of the life she, while forced, had crafted, begins to burst.

just months later, shortly after her graduation (accelerated because she hyper-loaded her classes), drogo is in a fatal accident, leaving dany a young widow. this event is quickly followed by the loss of rhaego. in what feels like the blink of an eye, dany finds herself alone.

wandering the city after an appointment with an attorney, where she's bequeathed all of drogo's assets, dany stumbles upon a large old house. it's fresh on the market. she presses her face against the windows, taking in the wood interior, and goes around to the back where there seems to be a little courtyard and a terrace. it sparks something in her, but as she begins to walk away, that spark flickers out, turning to ash.

until she hears it: the soft cry, followed by another, then another. on the property, she discovers three abandoned rottweiler puppies, who take to her immediately. cradling them, her fingers clumsily dial the number on the sign in front of the house, and, in a thick voice, she tells the broker she'll take the place.

thus begins her journey: dany sells the home she lived in with drogo and begins the process of renovating the place she impulsively bought, allowing her dream of opening a bookstore to take form. while the building is being renovated, she rents an apartment nearby with her precious puppies.

the silver quill is the name she settles on, paying homage to an older brother she never knew, who loved books, just like her, and was renowned for his music. the bookstore has a very distinct red door, painted by dany herself, and she plants trees in the little outdoor area (specifically lemon trees). there are plants everywhere inside, as well, in this place she has chosen very distinctly to fill with life.

about the silver quill:

the store itself is two stories, and the majority of the store is open. there are also lots of windows, creating a bright, inviting atmosphere. when a patron steps through the front door, they are greeted by two thresholds. to the right is a small café, where one can grab coffee, tea, snacks, and pastries from local vendors. to the left is the entryway to the bookstore, and the counter/register is located parallel to that entryway, against the far wall. within the store, there are various rooms dedicated to different activities, like private study and community organizing. the decor is cozy in a way that inspires one to feel as though they're in a person's home. there are plush couches and armchairs, covered in decorative pillows with various patterns, designs, and motifs. there are tables and chairs that have obviously been sourced through antiquing and careful sifting through estate sales. the floors are hardwood, draped with rugs, creating a patchwork situation in some of the areas. the walls are covered in art. there is a merch section in the store, decked out with trinkets from local artists.

in the back of the store on the first floor, there is a children's area. it is a very diligently curated space, and in the center of it is the reading tree. this installation looks like a lemon tree with a hollowed out center filled with cushions, beanbags, and lamps. a rocking chair sways beside it, where one may read to the children (which dany often does), and little activity tables along the periphery. an imagination rug covers the floor. the area itself is enclosed by bright shelves lined with books, and when you approach it, you're welcomed by a display filled with current favorites.

when you walk in, you can usually find dany sitting at the counter on a stool or propped up on the edge of the counter itself, working on various projects that contribute to the management of the shop. one of her favorite activities is searching for rare books to display in the glass cupboard beside the counter. you can also find her focusing in on some of the work she does for various community organizations/social causes, or whispering with friends. if she's not at the counter, she's probably shelving books, fluffing pillows, walking her dogs, or chatting it up in the café.

the entrance to her house is in a room behind the counter. there's a walk-up to the one story home with a balcony.

[99naive]

|   |   |   |   |   ྐ❤︎𓉸ྀི   :   @herosupe ʚĭɞೃ    𝙰𝙽𝙽𝙸𝙴   𝙹𝙰𝙽𝚄𝙰𝚁𝚈   ⤷   "   Morning   After   "   [   .   .   .   ]   PROMPT   .

—̳͟͞♡   .   .   .               𝚂𝚄𝚉𝙸𝙴   𝚆𝙰𝚂𝙽'𝚃   𝙽𝙾𝚁𝙼𝙰𝙻𝙻𝚈   𝙾𝙽𝙴   𝙵𝙾𝚁   𝙾𝙽𝙴   𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃   𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙳𝚂   𝙾𝚁   𝙳𝚁𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙴𝙽   𝙷𝙾𝙾𝙺   𝚄𝙿𝚂   ;   no   strings   attached   situations   were   not   something   she   was   very   good   at   being   the   ,   well   ,   𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁   𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒   𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝓊𝓇𝑒   she   was   at   heart   .   but   ,   last   night   appears   to   have   been   a   𝑟͟𝑎͟𝑟͟𝑒͟   𝑒͟𝑥͟𝑐͟𝑒͟𝑝͟𝑡͟𝑖͟𝑜͟𝑛   to   those   rules   as   suzie   finds   herself   slowly   awakening   in   a   bed   she   wasn't   familiar   with   ,   𝖆   𝖘𝖔𝖋𝖙   𝖌𝖗𝖚𝖒𝖇𝖑𝖊   escaping   her   lips   as   she   attempts   to   rub   the   sleep   from   her   eyes   whilst   the   sunlight   peaking   through   the   curtains   ahead   was   just   enough   to   leave   her   squinting   as   she   struggles   to   readjust   to   the   sudden   lighting   shift   ,   unfamiliar   surroundings   ,   &   slowly   growing   headache   that   creeps   up   on   her   as   she   notices   articles   over   her   own   clothing   scattered   about   the   floor   .     ❝    h-huh   ??    ❞ —̳͟͞♡   .   .   .     there's   an   𝑶𝑩𝑽𝑰𝑶𝑼𝑺   𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑭𝑼𝑺𝑰𝑶𝑵   in   her   tone   as   she   slowly   shifts   ,   throwing   her   legs   over   the   edge   of   the   bed   to   lean   forward   &   retrieve   the   tank   top   she   knows   she   had   been   wearing   the   night   before   ,   pulling   it   over   her   head   in   a   quick   motion   before   her   attention   shifts   to   the   blonde   that   lays   next   to   her   in   bed―    wait   ,   had   she   gone   home   with   the   girl   she   was   talking   to   at   that   party   last   night   ???    that   was   not   at   all   her   plan   at   the   party   ,   only   hoping   to   relax   a   little   bit   after   a   𝑟͟𝑜͟𝑢͟𝑔͟𝘩͟   𝑤͟𝑒͟𝑒͟𝑘   of   classes   ;   waking   up   in   the   bed   of   a   girl   you   barely   even   knew   was   certainly   not   on   her   list   of   plans   for   the   night   .   she   blushes   ,   biting   her   lip   softly   as   she   looks   around   the   room   in   an   attempt   to   locate   all   of   her   missing   clothing    [   .   .   .   ]   should   she   leave   ?   should   she   wait   for   the   other   girl   to   wake   up   ??   should   she   just   lay   back   down   &   pretend   she   hadn't   woken   up   already   ?   she   was   𝖆𝖜𝖋𝖚𝖑   at   these   morning   after   situations   . 

[desalvar]

 . STAINLESS STEEL AND LIMEWASH WALLS .

    where i put my heart ( MODERN VERSE. )

In from dermis, out through skin. Supinate. Meet Desalvar MD, an emerging miracle worker in the trauma surgery field, standout for his quick hands, quicker thinking and notable disregard for protocol. His clumsy start as a pity-hire undesirable with few, rather angry credentials long behind him, nowadays he enjoys a limelit position as star trauma surgeon of a high-traffic emergency department, in high demand, with none of the humility he should've kept in tow. And a rare talent for leaving work at work, as evident from his recent engagement and happy home life with his fiancè and daughter. By all means the luck of a man on top of the world.

Maybe you'd rather meet him a decade earlier, as simply Nik. With none of the fanfare or titles or even any hope of becoming much at all. Recently burdened with news of structural changes already plaguing his congenitally sick heart and abusing pills to cope, fresh out of failing every single one of his final year exams and on the verge of losing his best friend. The future is bleak but he's trying to make it a party for however long he might have left.

Or would Professor Doctor Cainhurst-Desalvar be more your speed. Well into his fifties and just a little wiser for it, weaving through gaggles of bright young medicine students tapping his cane this way and that. Trauma surgery and the stress of it is a thing of the past - his double heart stent calls for a touch more calm anyway and he intends to stick around a whole while longer. He has a husband to grow old with and a daughter to watch flit around the world, already flown the coop. Who'd have thought he'd make it this far..

CHARACTERIZATION NOTES.

his criminal record is clean as of age 24 onwards. wiped squeaky with no traces of tampering. no note of him staying at a drug rehab in his medical file either. courtesy of his best friend Antonín Cainhurst

has a daughter - Avita - at 26. accidental pregnancy, tough delivery, congenital heart condition inherited from him. both their medical statuses are difficult to come by information. he's on good terms with Vita's mother, Laura

canonically marries Antonín Cainhurst in his mid thirties and lives some forty happy years with him ♡

after spending months in rehab he gets clean off of pills and alcohol from age 24 onward. stays clean for the rest of his life. quits smoking 3 years later.

slight french accent in all languages he speaks.

HEADCANONS.

Place to link hcs for this verse

[graunblida]

@vamptyr sent: “we should go out for a couple of beers in honor of st. patrick’s day. i have money left from my paycheck, my treat!” / for lexa’s modern verse bc i miss our broke roomies!! ☘️ 🍻

a pair of emerald eyes peer over the top of the textbook in hand. she taps a highlighter rhythmically against the pages as she thinks. " you do remember what happened last st. patrick's day, no? " eyebrow is arched and head tilted to the side. exactly three-hundred and sixty five days ago, the two agreed they would have a few drinks and call it an early evening ( midterms were approaching ). their JOURNEY began at about dusk, and they did not return to their dorms until nearly five in the morning. " buuut since you're buying - " tone suddenly becomes whimsical. in a few short moments, all of lexa's study material is packed away neatly and she's standing before stefan, coat on and ready to go. " what are we waiting for? "

[wiredsmi1e]

—̳͟͞♡   .   .   .    𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴'𝚂   𝙰   𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙻𝙾𝙽𝙶𝙴𝙳   ,   𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙲𝙺   𝚂𝙸𝙻𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴   𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃   𝙵𝙸𝙻𝙻𝚂   𝚃𝙷𝙴   𝚁𝙾𝙾𝙼   𝙰𝚁𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳   𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙼   𝙵𝙾𝚁   𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃   𝙵𝙴𝙴𝙻𝚂   𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴   𝙰𝙽   𝙴𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙽𝙸𝚃𝚈—    she's   still   trying   to   wrap   her   head   around   just   why   this   complete   stranger   had   just   taken   it   upon   himself   to   play   hero   in   the   [   .   .   .   ]   unfortunate   events   that   had   just   played   out   in   the   shop   he   appeared   to   be   working   at   at   the   time   .   of   course   ,   stealing   wasn't   ever   her   first   choice   when   it   came   to   trying   to   feed   herself   ,   but   the   sad   reality   of   her   living   arrangements   at   the   time   with   an   uncaring   monster   of   a   father   who   didn't   care   whether   or   not   she   was   fed   or   taken   care   of   ,   &   her   own   lack   of   a   stable   job   just   yet   due   to   their   rather   unexpected   move   left   her   with   little   choice   far   more   often   than   she   would   ever   like   to   admit   .   caught   𝑹𝑬𝑫   𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑫   by   the   other's   boss   as   she   attempted   to   sneak   a   small   frozen   microwave   dinner   into   her   bag   ,   the   petite   pinkette   was   𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒   𝑎   𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑟   𝑖𝑛   𝑡ℎ𝑒   ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 as   the   old   man   who   owned   the   store   grabbed   her   rather   roughly   by   a   dainty   wrist   ,   demanding   her   bag   ,   screaming   that   she   was   a   𝖉͟𝖎͟𝖗͟𝖙͟𝖞͟   𝖑͟𝖎͟𝖙͟𝖙͟𝖑͟𝖊͟   𝖙͟𝖍͟𝖎͟𝖊͟𝖋 ;   she   was   panicking   in   every   sense   of   the   word   [   .   .   .   ]   head   spinning   ,   heart   POUNDING   in   her   chest   ,   lost   in   her   own   mind   so   far   that   she   doesn't   register   the   second   hand   that   grasps   her   forearm   until   she's   being   pulled   from   the   store   out   the   side   exit   ,   the   owner   tailing   them   as   they   make   a   break   for   it   down   a   dampened   alley   way   in   the   rainy   cincinnati   evening 

𝐒𝐔𝐙𝐈𝐄   𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐍'𝐓   𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄   ;   she   doesn't   question   who   he   is   ,   or   where   he's   taking   her   ,   simply   following   in   silence   as   she   attempts   to   keep   up   with   him   ,   following   all   the   way   back   to   a   run   down   ,   one   bedroom   apartment   that   isn't   all   that   different   from   the   one   she   &   her   father   were   inhabitting   in   town   now   (   HOW   IRONIC   WOULD   IT   BE   TO   FIND   THAT   HE   LIVED   NEARBY   ??   )   .    she's   still   trying   to   gather   all   of   her   disorganized   thoughts   when   she   finally   hears   him   speak   up   once   more   . 

|   |   |   |   |   ྐ❤︎𓉸ྀི   :   @3atmaggots

ʚĭɞೃ   𝙹𝙾𝙽   𝙼𝙾𝚇𝙻𝙴𝚈   ⤷   “   stay   till   morning.   ”  [   .   .   .   ]   PROMPT   .

—̳͟͞♡   .   .   .    ❝   w-wha   [   .   .   .   ]   𝙰𝚁𝙴   𝚈𝙾𝚄   𝚂𝚄𝚁𝙴 ??   y-you   [   .   .   .   ]   ,❞   there's   a   lengthy   pause   in   her   words   ;   large   green   orbs   cast   towards   the   floor   as   she   tries   to   calm   herself   &   the   WHIRLWIND   of   questions   &   worries   that   were   now   raging   around   her   mind   ,   ❝   you   didn't   have   to   h-help   me   back   there   ;   i-i—    𝒕͟𝒉͟𝒂͟𝒏͟𝒌͟   𝒚͟𝒐͟𝒖 .   ❞ 

[jadebone]

          "     we should be good people,     "     everyone laugh  !  he's making a joke.  there's nothing good about anyone who steps foot inside the skyscraper his grandda owns,  and everything that one of the kauls sets their sights on dies.  not his fucking problem,  if he had any say in it.  hilo grins,  all sharp teeth dripping bitter sarcasm.     "     wouldn't it be nice to wake up in the morning and not feel like a fuckin' piece of shit  ?     "

               FOR BRADBAKSHI  @bakshiis  ,  FROM  HILO     !

[lighthouseborn]

actually I don't know if I've said this on the blog before: modern verses Henry has a tricky thing going on with his travel sometimes because he was born on international waters and also may or may not have an official birth certificate i actually. i haven't done enough digging to decide one way or the other yet, but. the whole thing was very non-standard and sometimes causes problems, is what i do know.

[doctorwhoisadhd]

fucking fascinated with the way mitski just straight up DOESNT follow a rhyme scheme in just about any one of her songs i can think of (and even when she does it's only barely, aka only for part of a song or only rhyming using slant or identical rhymes) and yet she is known for her lyrics being fucking insanely good

[quietlyblooms]

i really wanna leave it open as to why chiyo gets murdered in her modern fantasy verse, but the gears are also turning bc what if!! i kinda merge some of dorverold's lore with her verse!! and eyda, this old deity of death and the end, is back at it with his world-ending plans. i'm sort of imagining this as either post-dorverold and lightwielder storyline ( if you're confused, you can go here for a synopsis of what i'm talking about ) or an alternate universe altogether. the latter might be the better option to avoid getting into certain details, like the fact dorverold isn't supposed to be earth as we know it -- the countries and whatnot are different as are the cultures. a modern dorverold would look vastly different from our own modern society.

but i'm getting caught up in the details asdfg my point is!! if chiyo's visions of the future/past/present manifest in her art prior to her murder, it's entirely possible that an agent of eyda saw the art displayed in her shop and realized she was portraying eyda/their plans/etc. they likely watched her for some time before determining that she indeed might pose a threat if anyone else realized what her paintings meant, and when the time was right, they killed her.

of course, naoki then finds her and brings her back, ruining their plans and leading to chiyo becoming aware of her visions. and while eyda is a god that is supposed to be mostly forgotten, cyrillo would know who he is in this plot. he's a very old vampire with a lot of collected knowledge, tomes, etc., all of which he'd gladly share with chiyo bc they've always had a good relationship. and i dunno where we'd go from there but!!! wouldn't that be fun!!! if you don't have your own big bad that would want chiyo out of the picture, we got an old vengeful deity and his followers who we could bring into the picture!!

[enjomo-arch]

also ace's social profile c:

[hatigave]

Verse tag dump   ⎯⎯⎯⎯ because I should have done this years ago but forgot.

ii.   maybe I don't know that much / but I have seen the stars and I know we're home    (    verse  :    undecided   )

ii.   song of the sea ; whispers of the earth   (    verse  :    modern  )

ii.  this is another retelling of the same old story   (  verse  :  canon   )

ii.   moments of gold & flashes of light    (    verse  :   post canon  )

ii. we return to the places we have already been before (    verse  :   pre canon  )

ii.   it was lost long ago but it's all coming back to me  (   verse  :   we have yeeted canon out of the window   )

ii. stories told long ago & kept between teeth and tongue ( verse : au )