#im writing them as i go without a plan and only read it over once or twice

[gingerteafairy]

girl never stop writing todd haynes fics im obsessed. esp 'third wheel payback' soso good i love a comic reader fic <3

funny you say that right as i was finishing this one hssowiejsnsk wrote it after seeing an adorable edit of todd with every man gets his wish by lana del rey on tiktok and i religiously saw it everyday multiple times ❤️‍🩹

spiderman milkshake (todd haynes x reader)

Who said comics can't help on a date?

tags n warnings: smut/mdni, waitress!reader, comic references, language, fingering, dry humping, kinks. word count: 4.3k

Todd was practically glued to his milkshake, sucking on the straw like it was some kind of life-sustaining multivitamin when he saw you walk by, effortlessly balancing a tray while tending to the tables. You looked adorable in that waitress uniform. Atomic Comics was his favorite place in the world—his friends, comic books, and a gorgeous nerdy waitress all in one spot. He could swear he saw you wearing a Venom T-shirt before you put on your uniform, matching with his Spiderman one.

Dave and Marty were deep in conversation, but Todd? He was somewhere else entirely—lost in his own world. Or, more accurately, lost in New York City, spideyvenom was getting really interesting right now.

"And like I was saying, Spider-Man’s powers are total garbage," Dave argued, popping a fry into his mouth. "I mean, web-shooting? That’s disgusting. Right, Todd?"

"Huh? Yeah. Totally." Todd replied absentmindedly, taking another sip.

"No way, and I can prove it! Webs are a hit! Just look at how he shoots them," Marty insisted, mimicking Spider-Man's signature hand gesture while making web-slinging sound effects. Dave immediately joined in.

Their laughter faded when they noticed Todd wasn’t reacting at all. He hadn’t moved a muscle. Following his gaze, they landed on you—standing a few feet away, scribbling an order onto your notepad.

Todd was mesmerized. The way you absentmindedly tucked the pen behind your ear, how your hair brushed against your neck, the delicate earring dangling just beneath—it was adorable. He wished he had given you that earring himself.

"I’m telling you, man. You should just talk to her. That’s your second milkshake," Dave pointed out, growing tired of watching Todd’s thousand-yard stare.

"Yeah, dude. This is getting kinda creepy," Marty added, raising an eyebrow.

Truth be told, Todd had known you way before his friends ever did.

He had once posted an insanely cool Justice League edit, and you had actually commented on it. That one reply had somehow turned into a full-on conversation, which then turned into many conversations. And before Todd even knew what hit him, he was completely, hopelessly into you.

The moment you casually mentioned that you read manga too? Yeah. That was it. Game over.

Even if you both chatted online everyday, seeing you in person was a completely different experience. It was like you were strangers all over again. Part of that was because Todd was horrifically shy and couldn’t even look you in the eyes without feeling like his soul was going to physically leave his body. The other part? Well… you were a waitress.

For some reason, that made it feel… wrong.

Like he fantasized a lot, basically a porn movie plot, you coming only on a apron saying "hey, sweetie, here's your milkshake" in an exaggerated sultry voice as you took the piece off. If a hacker could see his browsing history, they would see that 50% of waitress kink videos visualizations came from Todd's PC.

But as a normal shy guy, he was afraid of bothering you. Like you were only talking to him because it was literally your job. And, of course, there was also the massive fear that Dave and Marty would say something stupid and completely humiliate him.

Because, let’s be real—they absolutely would.

Dave exchanged a knowing glance with Marty—silently forming a plan. "Hey, waitress!" He suddenly called out.

Todd’s eyes widened in panic. "No! No, no, no—what the fuck am I supposed to say to her?"

"Order another milkshake," Marty snickered.

Todd ran a shaky hand through his hair, clearly freaking out as he saw you glance in their direction before heading toward their table.

"Oh, shit. Oh, shit—she’s coming!" His voice barely came out as he scrambled for an escape, gulping down his milkshake like his life depended on it.

"How can I help?" you greeted with a warm smile, the sunlight from the window behind you making you look even more radiant. Then, your gaze landed on Todd. "Hey, Todd. The usual?"

"Me?" Todd blurted out, his voice cracking slightly. He turned to his friends, who looked just as amused as they were surprised.

"Yeah… milkshake. I know you like it—you always get the same thing," you beamed casually, already flipping open your notepad.

"Uh… I… can I…" Todd stumbled over his words. Oh my God, she knows what I like. His brain was short-circuiting. "I wanna buy you a milkshake."

You let out a soft laugh, pulling the pen from behind your ear and jotting something down. "I’m gonna serve you a big slice of ‘never do that again,’ okay?"

You replied, folding the piece of paper and placing it near his hand before walking away. Todd stared at you, utterly devastated. His soul left his body.

"Oof, dude… that was rough," Dave cringed, physically recoiling from secondhand embarrassment.

"Yeah, I kinda saw that one coming," Todd muttered, hesitantly unfolding the note—fully expecting his official rejection letter, his eyes widened.

"Oh. My. God."

"What?!" Dave and Marty leaned in at the same time. Todd slowly turned the paper around.

"I’m off at 5. XOXO."

"XOXO?" Dave repeated, snatching the paper.

"It means hugs and kisses, dumbass," Marty rolled his eyes, taking it from him to inspect the handwriting. Before he could analyze further, Todd swiped back his sacred treasure.

"I dunno… think I won’t go," Todd murmured, pouting dramatically.

"Wait, wait, wait. You're gonna chicken out now that she actually showed interest?" Marty hissed in disbelief.

"I don’t know, man… She’s perfect. And I’m just… this." Todd gestured vaguely to himself. He sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping as he absentmindedly reached for his milkshake straw—only to find nothing there.

"Hey, man. Don’t be like that," Marty said, giving him a reassuring pat on the back. "If she’s into you, that means there’s gotta be something cool about you."

"Yeah, Todd. You’re a cool guy, the smartest one out of the three of us. You’ll do great," Dave reassured him, flashing a confident smile.

Todd let out a weak laugh, barely processing the words as he glanced at you. His heart skipped a beat when you turned and met his gaze, smiling at him like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Was this what cardiac arrest felt like?

"Yeah… it’s gonna be great," he mumbled, his lips stretching into a dumb, lopsided grin. Every ounce of self-doubt vanished. That smile of yours? That was all he needed today.

Marty and Dave, sensing the gravity of the situation, made sure to stay with him until the very last minutes of your shift. They cracked jokes, debated superhero fights, and did their best to keep Todd from imploding. And for a while, it worked—until the clock ticked closer to 5 PM.

Todd felt it before he saw it—the rush of oh-no-oh-no-it’s-happening panic settling in his bones. His palms grew clammy as he watched you disappear into the employee break room. His foot tapped against the floor rapidly.

Dave, immediately noticing, snapped his fingers in front of Todd’s face. "Alright, dude. Focus up. Take this."

Todd blinked as Dave dropped a stick of gum into his hand. "Do I have bad breath?"

"No… but trust me, mint gum is a game changer. Chicks love it."

Marty, standing beside them, shoved his hands into his pockets and casually pulled out five more sticks of mint gum. Todd and Dave stared at him like he had just pulled out five engagement rings.

"What?" Marty blinked. "I like to be prepared."

"As if you’re kissing that many people," Dave snorted.

Marty rolled his eyes and flipped him off. "I am a romance expert, okay? I’m the best at Romance Simulator, and I’ve picked up a ton of tips—"

"Oh yeah, great example, Marty," Dave cut in.

"Hey! Those games are super realistic!" Marty huffed, popping a piece of gum into his mouth. "I even have a girlfriend in one of them."

"The only girlfriend you’re ever getting," Dave snickered.

Todd, however, wasn’t listening anymore. His brain had short-circuited the moment he saw you step out of the break room, adjusting your bag strap as you waved goodbye to your coworkers.

"Guys, she’s coming," he whisper-hissed, suddenly shoving them aside. Panic took over. "How do I look? Am i stinking?"

Before anyone could react, Todd lifted his arm toward Marty. Marty recoiled like a cat sprayed with water. "DUDE. I’m not smelling you."

"Come on, please! I don’t even know if I put on cologne—Dave!" Todd pleaded desperately, his eyes wide with silent help me energy. Dave just shook his head, holding back a laugh.

"You ready?" Your voice rang out, bright and casual, like you hadn’t just sent Todd spiraling into a crisis. His body moved before his brain could, immediately slamming his arm down and scrambling to his feet.

"Of course! Let’s go!" he blurted out, way too enthusiastic, wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans like that would magically solve the problem.

But when he finally looked at you—saw the soft amusement in your eyes, the way your lips twitched like you were holding back a laugh—his nerves settled just a little bit.

You both stepped out of the store, and Todd could not stop staring. He had never seen you in casual clothes before.

The skirt? Adorable. That black Venom t-shirt? Perfect. The way it fit on you? Dangerous. You turned to face him, the soft scent of your hair hit him like a gentle, but highly effective truck.

"Finally worked up the courage to talk to me, huh? I was starting to think you were embarrassed of me," you teased, laughing.

"Embarrassed of you? Jesus, it’s more like the opposite," he blurted out, rubbing the back of his neck. The warm, bubbly feeling in his chest only grew when you laughed at his joke.

"So why didn’t you ever talk to me?" you asked, genuinely curious. First things first, let’s be honest here.

You were just as into Todd as he was into you.

There was something about him that was so effortlessly adorable. The way he always ordered a milkshake, sipping on it like it was the best thing in the world. You made sure to take your sweet time preparing it just right—just so you could see that little happy smile he made when he took the first sip.

Todd was the kind of guy who made you giggle and kick your feet on your bed, cheeks burning at just the thought of him.

And the fact that he had zero clue about the effect he had on you? It almost made you feel like some kind of stalker. Casually texting him every day just to keep the conversation going. Catching yourself wishing you were his milkshake straw, quenching his thirst, around his rosy wet lips. Oh, the tongue—

Todd, completely unaware of all of this, was busy trying not to combust.

"I just… I thought you’d be embarrassed of me because, well… I'm—" He exhaled, hesitating, hoping you’d finish the sentence for him.

Loser, his brain supplied helpfully. Instead, you smiled and said, "Shy?"

Todd blinked. That was not the word he expected.

You—beautiful, funny, way-too-cool-for-him—were looking at him with zero judgment. Just patience. Just kindness. He was sure you're going to heaven when you died.

"Yeah… I guess," he mumbled, scratching the back of his head. "Sorry about that."

"no, I'm the one that should be apologizing," you cooed, sighing. "Sorry about the dump, i was kinda angry with you. I was starting to think you hated me and I don't know, ghosting."

"No, shit. Sorry," he whined, feeling like an ass to make you feel like this. "From now on, i'll talk to you every time I see you. Promise."

"Deal. Hey, do you remember that new Marvel issue I told you about?" you asked, smoothly changing the subject.

Todd nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yeah! It’s great. Why?"

"I bought it. It’s at my place. Wanna come see?"

Todd’s brain immediately shut down. His mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again.

Processing… Processing… ERROR: BRAIN NOT FOUND.

"I… uh… one sec! I forgot something back in the store," Todd blurted out, laughing way too weirdly before bolting back inside.

He skidded to a stop at the table where Dave and Marty were still sitting, slamming his hands down on it like he was in some kind of action movie. "Date over already?" Dave questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"SHE WANTS ME TO GO TO HER HOUSE," Todd announced, not breathing, before grabbing Dave’s soda and chugging it.

"And what the hell are you waiting for? Go before he changes her mind! You don't have many options," Marty urged, while Dave yanked his soda back, dramatically wiping the rim before taking another sip.

"But I don’t know what to do! It’s not a date! She just mentioned something about a new Marvel issue," Todd gasped, heart pounding, his body already covered in stress sweat.

Dave and Marty exchanged a look. Marty was the first to speak, grinning. "That’s a code."

"That’s 100% a code," Dave agreed.

Todd blinked. "A code? The hell you talking about?" He whispered like a true paranoid man, glancing out the window to make sure you weren’t listening. Luckily, you were distracted on your phone.

"Okay, Todd. Tell me when the new Marvel issue actually comes out," Dave prompted, crossing his arms.

"March 23rd. Why?" Todd replied, even more confused.

"And what’s today’s date?"

"Hmmm, lemme think. Okay, I know. March 19th, but what does that have to—" Todd froze. His brain short-circuited. His eyes went huge. "Oh my God. It’s a code."

"It’s a code," they both confirmed, nodding like wise sages.

The realization hit Todd so hard that all three of them jumped up in celebration—only to immediately sit back down when everyone in the store looked at them like they were insane.

"Shit. I gotta go. Bye!" Todd practically sprinted away.

"Crack that code wide open, Todd!" Dave called after him, laughing as Todd flipped him off on his way out.

“Hey, man,” Marty called, stopping Todd, gesturing him to come closer and whisper. “Spiderman hands, you hear me?”

“What the—”

“Just do it,” he insisted and Todd frowned, realization coming when he did the gesture himself. “You see?”

“Got it. Thanks, dude,” he beamed, training with his both hands. You never know when you have to use your non dominant hand.

“And when you do it down there…” He continued, hands on his face to cover the gesture. “Venom tongue. Flash movements.”

“Damn, Marty. You're a fucking Wikipedia,” he grinned, keeping the information on his head. “Do the sage has more advices to this poor mortal?”

“Oh, i got one,” Dave standed, joining the conversation. “If she looks at your lips, don't chicken out. One more thing, mimic her lips, that way you won't mess your first kiss.”

“What? I had my first kiss.” He murmured blushing.

“Seriously, dude?” Marty mocked, giving an exaggerated eye roll. While Todd was still inside, you whipped out your phone and immediately typed into the group chat.

You: Girls, seriously. I’m with him.

Erika: Who??

You: Todd Haynes!!!!

Katie: OH MY GODDD

You: I’m so nervous, Idk what to do.

Erika: Apron. Wear it.

You: For what?

Erika: You’ll understand.

Katie: You got this, girl. You’re amazing.

Erika: Get him pregnant

You snorted at your friends’ chaotic but heartfelt encouragement, quickly locking your phone the second you saw Todd skidded back up to you, barely keeping it together.

"I’m back! I, uh, forgot… my keys," he explained, shaking them a little to prove it.

"I forget mine all the time. So… ready to go?"

He nodded so fast it was almost embarrassing.As you walked, Todd felt like he was floating. Your house was close to the store, and when you stepped inside, Todd couldn’t help but drink in his surroundings. It was small, but cozy—just like you.

He wanted to be cool about it. Casual. Normal. So, naturally, he started copying every single thing you did like some kind of socially awkward robot.

You took off your jacket? Boom. Jacket off. You took off your shoes and put them neatly on the shoe rack? Guess what? Todd was doing that too.

Smooth. Totally natural.

"So…" you started, taking a step closer to him. "What do you want?"

Todd choked on absolutely nothing and immediately backed up a step. Oh God. She moves fast. Is it happening? Is this it? Shit, I don't have any condoms here.

"W-What do you mean?" he stammered, hands awkwardly hovering at his sides.

You let out a soft laugh, but internally, you were screaming. Come on, Todd. Pick up the hints. Please just kiss me already.

"Do you wanna check out the comic or do something else first?" you clarified, hoping he’d catch the very obvious subtext.

Unfortunately, you were dealing with Todd Haynes—a man who had never been close to a woman that wasn’t his own mother. Todd, however, was trying to trust his instincts—and the questionable advice of his friends. With a burst of sudden confidence, he reached into his pocket and pulled out two pieces of gum.

"Wanna… gum?" he offered timidly.

You blinked. "Do I have bad breath?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious.

At that exact moment, Todd mentally began digging his own grave and jumping inside with a cheap bouquet. Dave crying looking at the rainy sky and Marty singing Love Hurts on his grave. R.I.P. Todd Haynes, the biggest coward to ever exist.

"NO. Oh my God. Fuck, no," he panicked, his words tripping over each other. "You smell… really good. Like, so good. I—uh. Shit. That sounded weird. I just—ugh, I shouldn’t have—sorry, I don’t know why I did that—"

Mid-breakdown, Todd shoved the gum back into his pocket and rocked back and forth on his heels, suffocating in the crushing weight of the awkward silence. You thought fast. You weren’t about to let this moment die, remembering the apron tip.

"Hey," you chirped, forcing casual confidence. "How about I cook for us?"

You turned toward the kitchen, heart pounding, silently praying the pots and pans would swallow you whole to spare you from the embarrassment.

Todd perked up immediately. "Yes! Yes, absolutely. I love everything you make," he rushed out, practically jogging after you before settling into a chair—the perfect spot to admire you while you cooked. You tied on an apron, completely unaware of the effect it had on Todd, who sat there, staring in silent awe.

"Wow."

You turned. "What?"

"Nothing!" he blurted, immediately crossing his arms like it would somehow make him look cooler and less flustered.

"Okay," you muttered, shaking your head as you turned to rummage through the cabinets. Erika was right, you’d definitely thank her. You stretched up on your tiptoes, but—unfortunately—your genius past self had placed the glasses way too high.

"Damn it…" you muttered.

Todd immediately jumped up. "I got it!"

He reached past you, his height making the task effortless—and for the first time, you actually registered how much taller he was than you.

"What do you need?" he asked, voice much closer than you expected.

"Uh…" You blinked up at him, suddenly feeling a little flustered yourself. "The glass cups. I, uh… accidentally put them super high."

Todd grabbed them easily, handing them over with a small, proud smile—totally unaware that his casual helpfulness had just made your heart skip a beat. He carefully set the two glasses down on the counter. You bit your cheek, your gaze meeting his—and lingering just a little too long.

The air between you suddenly felt thicker, heavier. His eyes flickered to your lips, and your breath hitched as you instinctively did the same. When you looked back up, his gaze was still there, locked on your mouth like it held the secrets of the universe.

Okay. Enough was enough.

Before your nerves could get the best of you, you moved, your fingers lightly brushing over his hand. Todd stiffened at first—face heating from the tiny touch—but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he exhaled sharply as he let his palm travel up to your cheek, hesitating for half a second before finally leaning in, closing the gap between you.

The second your lips met, you melted. Without thinking, your arms flew up, wrapping around his neck as you deepened the kiss—half in excitement, half to make sure he didn’t chicken out.

Todd, on the other hand, was very much spiraling.

Oh my God. Oh my God. I am kissing her. This is happening. She’s kissing me back. This is—

His brain short-circuited before defaulting to its best coping mechanism—imitation. Todd mimicked your lips movements, following your lead, and shockingly it worked. His hands instinctively gripped your waist, pulling you in closer.

And then, without really thinking, he tilted his head, stepping forward just enough to press you gently against the counter. It was official.

Todd Haynes had zero idea what he was doing. But somehow, it was going very, very well.

He moaned when your hands reached his hair, anchoring on his frame, he sucked your bottom lip like his life depended on it, he kissed hungrily. It was hot. So freaking hot, you were losing your mind, loving how he changed about it and just devoured you.

Everything was so good that he almost forgot about his cock pulsating inside his jeans. He pushed back, eyes wide as he looked down to the tent, eyes up to meet your mouth swollen, three tones redder and a huge teeth mark as the cherry on top.

“Fuck, I'm so sorry,” he whimpered, embarrassed with his hormones controlling his brain. “It’s just— I have no fucking idea of what I'm doing, but it's so good.”

“Yeah, it's really good,” you encouraged, coming closer, chests touching as you leaned to kiss him, slightly opening your legs, him entering the small gap you conceded.

The kiss was slower, more sensual. He was a fast learner, holding back on the vacuum-like sucking, concentrating on gentle nips. He pushed back, eyes closed.

“Is it better?” He muttered, ghosting his lips over yours.

“Yeah, but I think this would be better,” you breathed, taking his hand and directioning them to your lower belly, guiding him to your panties.

He gulped, nodding, opening his eyes to see you rolling your skirt up, giving him a sight of your panties. Todd Haynes was too stunned to speak. He just moved his hand to touch the covered spot, almost flicking his hand back when he felt you shivering.

“You can touch directly if you want to,” you suggested like you weren't the one dying of embarrassment.

Todd sighed. Spider-Man hands. He remembered when he pushed your panties down and patted his fingertip on your clit, watching your reaction. He gulped at you and looked at him with doe eyes begging to be touched. He wouldn't deny it, so he gently rubbed your clit, licking his lips, dying to feel your taste on them.

“Yeah, you're—pretty good, Todd,” you purred, your sounds making his head blurred, focused on your cunt getting wetter and wetter.

“Is it?” His eyes lit up, going down at your slit to collect more liquid and keep the stroking on your spot.

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, spreading your legs wider. Todd's chest rose and fell rapidly, increasing the rhythm until he successfully inserted his middle finger inside. “Fuck.”

He froze his finger, searching your eyes to check if he did something wrong, but your flushed face, so beautiful biting your lip as your hips longed for his finger said the opposite. He was doing really good.

Encouraged by your lewd expression, he joined his ring finger inside, setting a pace by the reactions you were making.

“Faster, Todd,” you pleaded, grinding on his fingers. He couldn't even believe, looking down, seeing his fingers glistening in and out, disappearing on your cunt sucking them, your walls clenching around them, he was panting.

“Like this?” He asked in a whimpery voice, doing what you needed. He searched for your lips, brushing them as he heard the wet sound of your pussy.

You grasped his biceps, feeling the knot forming on your lower belly as you purred and whined on the kiss. Todd started to breathe faster, grinding on your thigh, his free hand palming your ass.

“Todd, I'm cumming,” you mewled, coming undone on his fingers, legs shivering as he held you in place, preventing you from falling down. He kept fingering you til he opened his mouth, shutting his eyes and throwing his head back, swaying his hips on your thigh.

He groaned, taking off his fingers from you and directioning it to his mouth, sucking your arousal. He hummed, looking back at you panting, hands gripping on the counter.

“You taste better than milkshakes,” he shyly added, planting an adorable peck on your lips.

“You're so cute,” you giggled, pecking him back. You weren't done, your hunger for Todd might never end. He was just so damn irresistible. “Hey… do you wanna, like… continue this?”

“Oh… uhmm…” He stammered, his nose doing the little frown you find cute. “We have to wait a little.”

“Why?” You pouted, tilting your head.

“Why?” He echoed, thinking about all the manners of saying the obvious, choosing to say it straight. “I came.”

You grinned, giggling at him getting beet-red. “Hey, don't worry about it. We can eat something while your body reacts.”

“Can i eat you?” He blurted, suddenly digging courage from the bottom of his heart.

You blushed, nodding, too shy to say something. He grinned, kneeling on the floor. “Hey, don't you wanna go to my room? It might be uncomfortable for you.”

“It's just…” he began, tilting his head up to meet your gaze, warm breath next to your cunt. “I kinda fantasize a lot about eating you out in the kitchen.”

“Really?” You panted, hands making their way to his head.

“Yeah,” he replied, licking his lips in anticipation. Venom tongue. Flash speed. “The apron is a bonus.”

That night, you finally lived your dream—becoming Todd’s milkshake straw in the best way possible. And Todd? He finally mustered up the courage to take a real chance on you.

You spent the rest of the evening wrapped up in each other, sharing a blanket that neither of you really needed. Your legs brushed. Your fingers tangled absentmindedly. Every now and then, Todd would steal a glance at you like he still couldn’t believe this was real. As you both talked for hours about the thing that brought you together in the first place—comics—he realized something:

Super heroes were cool. Spider Man and Flash? Even cooler. He couldn't forget to thank Venom as a villain.

But nothing—nothing—could top the way you looked at him like he was your favorite issue in the entire collection.

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

Hello! :3 I see ure writing yandere and for inho and with my current obsession over the front man/hwang inho im asking if you can do yandere front man? Pls do it as dark as possible 🙏

Did I read dark? Absolutely!

Yandere Hwang In-ho/Frontman

Squid Game masterlist

Nsfw and dead dove do not eat below.

At first his focus was towards Gi-hun, but when you were part of their team, sat with them, talking to him, his focus slowly but surely shifted to you.

In-ho would silently root for you without letting his front man mask slip.

The guards will give you food that has been only reserved for you during mealtime. Suddenly your ration has the type of food you like, an extra egg or more rice, but most importantly the nutrisions you'd need for the next game.

In-ho is the reason a random player has been shot instead of you, he is the reason the guards have escorted you to the bathroom as another lights out fight happened.

Hwang hears everything you say, whether it's during eating or when he's laying awake in his bed, listening to you speaking with someone.

He's too good of a manipulator, tells you to listen to him instead of the former winner Gi-hun, tells you to stay close to him instead anybody else.

"Why go with Gi-hun and risk getting killed when you can stay with me where you'd be safe?"

In-ho watches you from the corner of his eyes, his knuckles turning white when he sees another Thanos-like douchebag confronting you.

He has absolutely no trouble beating someone bloody who dared flirting with you or touching you without consent. Could easily snap that person's neck without a flinch.

In-ho gets sick pleasure when he sees someone you've got close with get gunned down by the guards. You look so pretty to him, no matter if you're crying or not..

If a raid against the guards happens, Hwang watches you like a hawk, making sure you're not getting harmed and you're not getting away. His stares would be so intense he is sure you would feel them burn through you.

During a raid, he couldn't be happier because whatever happens he knows you will be captured, either by his guards or directly him after faking his death.

He already plans what he would do with you once you've been captured, he would make you watch the games with him, all in his front man attire of course.

Forces you to watch the guards gun down the ones you became friends with, telling you:

"See what happens to those you call friends? The money makes them your friends until they're getting it and betray you..."

Has planned to keep you in his chambers while observing the games, having his right hand man, the Officer, keeping tabs on you.

Hwang will reveal himself to you soon, expecting your eyes widen in fear, shock or hopelessness.

In-ho would personally implant a tracker into you, making sure he always knows where you are, this way you have almost no way of getting rid of him.

In-ho keeps you exclusively to himself, not even the VIPs are allowed near you. He has his moments where he treats you more like his trophy, squeezing your thighs possessively with his cold leather glove.

"You are by far the most beautiful price. But I get to keep you, you're my perfect price.."

In-ho is rich as hell, so there is no doubt he will spoil you with it.

Any rogue guard trying to lay his hands on you gets his lesson taught with a bullet in his brain for touching his perfect price.

Hwang may seem cold to his staff, but with you he isn't. He's the man whispering sweet nothings into your ear until you're too weak to stand.

If you're trying to escape however... that is if you somehow make it past the guards, In-ho can get harsh with you too.

"Trying to escape are we? Perhaps you need a reminder of who you belong to now, hm?"

His favorite is having you on his lap, with his cock stuffed into you while he watches the games. You're not allowed to move until he says so, you're not allowed to cum until he says so, you're not allowed to make noise until he says so.

Your best bet with him is behaving and doing what he says.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

[ittosthicknjuicyazz]

Jealousy and pining. If the HSR men were quietly pining for the reader, how would they handle any sudden jealousy of someone else who is seemingly or even intentionally trying to get closer to the reader in a romantic way? Is there any confrontation? Sabotage? Or does this perceived “threat” encourage them to act on their growing affection for the reader? Or maybe they take a different approach all together, idk- lots of possibilities lol.

a/n: I fw this one. question is, how do i go about it 😟??

disclaimer: ooc blade prolly, violence, death, SA, you wear revealing clothing, not proof read. I'm sorry if this isn't what you imagined, I'm still fairly new to this. Also since I wrote so much for blade he's going to be the only one I write for IM SORRYYYYY 😭 maybe i'll write a part two with a different character.

someone's a wittle bit jealous

Blade

It took him a little while to get used your presence after you joined the Stellaron Hunters. And it took him a little while after that to fall in love with you. And since then, every day he'd find himself falling deeper and deeper in love with you.

Blade looked over at you, his brows slightly furrowed, "you don't have to do this." You looked back at Blade, raising an eyebrow, "uhh, yes I do. It's in the script Blade." He only nodded in refusal, "this is too much, even for you."

You rolled your eyes and rolled the long glove over your arm. Tonight, you wore your sexiest outfit that showed 70% of skin with long gloves. "Think of the mission, Blade. I know you might be jealous and all that, but you gotta put that aside think about what we need to do."

Him? Jealous? "Don't be ridiculous. what would I be jealous for?"

You only laughed in response, "i was only teasing," you looked at the time, "well, i gotta go. You be ready when I need you, yeah?" You smiled and blew him a kiss before turning around and leaving the shared hotel room.

Of course, that kiss did nothing to him. Why would it?

20 minutes passed and he's at the designated club. Immediately his eyes seek for you. He takes a few more steps into the club before he saw you. You sat on another mans lap, an arm wrapped around the back of his neck, your finger lightly tracing random shapes on his chest. You smiled, and giggled, and looked at him as if he was only man in the room.

Of course, Blade felt nothing as he watched the scene unfold. Why would he? This is for the mission. But even he had to admit, your acting was very extremely believable. And maybe it did make him feel...something.

For a split second, the two of you catch each other's gaze. And for that moment, your acting slipped. You no longer had that seductive stare, your expression now unreadable. You squinted and nodded your head just when the man under you diverted his gaze else where.

Blade took the hint, nodding his head in return. The rest of the mission went off without a hitch. Blade managed to make it to the electrical area, shut off the power all over the building, giving you enough time to jab the knife into the mans chest and leave the club before Blade turned the power back on.

Now back at the hotel, you're shivering and rubbing your hands over your arms. "You cold?" Blade wondered. You nodded, "no no, it's just. God, the feeling of that mans hands all over me, it's making me shiver in disgust." You cringe once more, your whole body shivering with intensity as though you were truly cold.

Wait, his hands were all over you? "What do you mean his hands were all over you?" Blade demanded. You shrugged, "Well, he...when you left his hands began to wander and he...groped me. I know that it was part of the plan to seduce him, but it seriously made me feel disgusted...and dirty."

Now Blade felt something. And the feeling spread all over his body. Not only did you have his hands all over that man, but that man was touching you in areas that Blade could only look at. And it made you feel disgusting. If Blade could go back, he would have killed that man himself.

"...disgusting." Blade mumbled, that word being the only thing you heard. And for a moment you thought he was talking about you, "e-excuse me?"

"That man is disgusting," Blade mumbled just a bit louder. He makes his way to you, "Go change." You stare up at him, his body oh-so close yours.

Unknowingly, your heart began to beat just a bit faster, though your shivering died down. It was almost like Blade close proximity warmed you up.

You nod, turning to grab some clothes from your bag and walking to the bathroom. You walk out with a warm set of pjs.

You're met with almost an entirely different room. The two twin sized beds now pushed together with multiple blankets layered on top of each other, not to mention a shirtless Blade on one side of the bed with a remote in his hand, switching between channels on the tv mounted on the wall. Next to him on the bed was a small pile of snacks, somehow all of them being your favorite.

"I was gone for like 5 minutes, how did you manage to do all of this within five minutes?" you questioned. "Sit," Blade responded. You were sat.

You threw the covers over your legs, making sure to set the pile of snacks over the blanket. You had to admit, this was extremely weird and extremely out of character for Blade. But were you complaining? Of course not. You have a shirtless Blade sitting next to you in the same bed. In your book, this is like heaven. And god, were you gonna brag when you got back to base.

"Why are you doing this?" you asked him. "Just relax," Blade responded, putting on a movie he thought would be interesting to you. And it was. You found yourself being relaxed in Blade's presence as you snacked and watched the movie.

And eventually you fell asleep. Blade notices and sighs, pulling your body downward to get your head more situated on the pillows, fluffing them. He then covered your body with the blanket, moving the opened and unopened snacked onto the nightstand. He turned off the TV and got comfortable on his side of the bed, not getting too close to your body. He didn't want you to be uncomfortable, especially after tonights encounter.

Later, you found yourself waking up. It was still dark, but you felt a pressure on the side of your body and over your stomach. You looked over to see Blade snuggled into your side with his large arm over your stomach. You stared in shock, there's no way this is actually happening, right? You and Blade snuggling in the same bed? you've got to be dreaming.

Just when you were going to attempt to move Blade over, not wanting the morning to be awkward, Blade tightened his grip on you. You slightly shivered as he breathed into your neck. No, this was definitely real.

"Never...." he mumbled. You almost coed out loud, Blade sleep talking was absolutely adorable to you. It reminded you that Blade was the same as everybody else, he wasn't devoid of all human emotion, he wasn't a machine. He was a living being just like you were. "Never again..." he mumbled once more.

You sighed and decided to leave it be. If it was going to be awkward in the morning, then so be it. You turned to embrace him, your fingers running through the shorter and longer layers of his hair.

[lovelettersfromluna]

Supercut

Summary: “In my head, I play a supercut of us.”

an: halfway through writing this I decided that this isn't technically the finale hehe, more of cam girl!Ellie come, this is just the end of them being stupid. mwah mwah love you all more than you know.

Warnings: SMUT!! 18+, MDNI, angst, cam girl!ellie, Ellie is a real idiot in this one tbh, arguing, hurt/eventual comfort, toxic!Ellie, tribbing, making out, pet names, this one is a little short im sorry, lmk if I missed anything!!!

Read part 1 here, and part 2 here!

You know that gross feeling you get whenever you look back at old pictures or videos? You know, the one that you feel at the pit of your stomach, and it makes you really happy but also really sad? What's that called again?

Oh, right. Its melancholy

It's that feeling where you have a specific memory, and you know that no matter what, that time is gone. You can't replicate it, and the only place that it will live is in the confides of your own mind

And it sucks, because you don't even know when those moments are going to be made. There's no warning in your brain that the day you have planned is going to be so impactful to your life, that you will constantly chase that feeling, trying to replicate what it was that made that time so blissful so that you can feel that same warmth again.

You don't even get the chance to savor it while it lasts.

It almost makes you feel like you never wanted those times to happen to begin with, because you would have been fine without them. Sacrifice one of the times of your life so that you wouldn't have to spend countless nights laying in bed, only hoping that you will experience something that can even come close to how it all felt in the past.

Most of the time, it's easy to simply look back at those memories, feel that disgusting mixture of happiness and sadness, and then move on.

But for some god awful reason, you can't seem to do that this time.

This time, it lingers. It sits there, knocking at your chest, demanding to be acknowledged, to have all of your undivided attention, giving you no choice but to think about how fucked up this all is, how all of this was a complete and utter mistake, and how you have no way in taking it back.

It makes you wish time travel was real, yearning for some mad scientist to come out and say 'look everyone! you can reverse the mistakes you've made in the past!'.

But that doesn't happen, and you have no choice but to live with the icky feeling that settles at the pit of your stomach, and refuses to go away.

You weren't entirely sure what would happen after that night with Ellie, the night that she laid her weight on top of you, fucking you into her mattress over and over again, whispering the sweetest words into the nape of your neck, holding you the entire night through once you were finished, silence overcoming the space as you both fell into a blissful sleep.

It was hard to really tell where you both stood, but you weren't an idiot.

You knew, that you and Ellie had made love that night.

It was truly like nothing you had ever experienced. It was like you were constantly in that delicious state before sleep, where the world is soft, and everything is so comfortable right before you reach the point of unconsciousness, and everything feels so utterly perfect.

That's what it felt like, and you knew that from the moment Ellie had pulled you against her chest, and pressed a soft kiss to your head before you both fell asleep.

It happened, but God....you really wished it hadn't.

Because now? Things were so much fucking worse.

The feeling Ellie gave you scared you, and it made the ugliest thoughts fill your head when you woke up. You felt wrong, the skin on your body feeling filthy for doing something so intimate with her, with your roommate. You felt like you were taking something that wasn't yours, something that was never meant for you in that way.

So you ran.

Not far, of course. You were lucky enough to wake up before Ellie, gently peeling yourself from her body, your stomach sinking whenever she mumbled something gently in her sleep, her hands mindlessly reaching for your body before she fell back into her deep slumber.

You stood over her for a moment, watching as her eyes flickered in her sleep, lips parted as she snored gently. The feeling you had when you watched her sleep scared you, because you felt...like you wanted to stay with her, protect her, hold her in your arms and ignore the reality of how much this was fucking with your head, ignore the fact that she had simply wanted help with her work.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

You inhaled deeply before you left her room, closing her door gently before you quickly went to your bedroom, tugged on a t shirt and jeans before you grabbed your jacket and left the apartment.

You stayed out in the city all day, that day. You were like a ghost, trying to sort out the feelings that were settling in your chest, opting to simply ignore them instead. You made sure to leave your phone at home, knowing any texts from Ellie wouldn't do you any good with how you were feeling.

You didn't return home until later that afternoon, the sun setting, slowly casting the familiar darkness of night onto the city that you had come to know. You wished you could stay out longer, avoid the situation more, but it was only gettin colder, and you knew you had to go back to your apartment sooner or later.

When you got there, you were greeted by silence. You don't even hear Ellie's usual music playing from inside her room. You frowned softly, looking around a bit for any signs of the girl there. You looked down, finding that her leather jacket and helmet weren't where they usually were.

Ellie had left too.

You should've been happy at that, giving you even more time away from the girl than planned, yet you can't ignore the ugly tinge of sadness and annoyance that lingers at the back of your throat at the thought of here simply...leaving.

When you got to your room, you quickly grabbed your phone, wishfully thinking that there would be a string of messages from your roommate, asking you where you've gone, and if everything is okay between you both.

But when you unlock your phone, there's nothing there.

Not a single call, or a single text.

And you suddenly realized, that great minds think alike.

So, that's how things go with you and Ellie after that. There isn't a grand scene of love, where you both confess that you had both felt that way from the moment you set eyes on each other, there isn't a happily ever after where you become her girl, and she becomes yours. There isn't any of that, you two simply go from being friends, to barely being roommates.

You guys never speak about it. There's never a conversation that happens to even clear the air, pretending as though that night in her bedroom never happened.

There's a sense of hostility that follows after all of it happens, because Ellie won't even fucking look at you now, let alone stand in the same room as you. If you're in the living room, she's in her bedroom, and if you're in the kitchen, she leaves the apartment to go eat somewhere else.

It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, because you can practically feel the hatred she has for you radiating off of her body whenever she's around, and it's a shock to you that you two are still even living together. The Ellie that would once sit in the living room with you, practically tugging your body to sit on her lap, has succumb to someone who barely even exists to you anymore.

And it doesn't even end there.

Ellie never really had girls in and out of the apartment before, even before you and her started filming and having sex. She was pretty strict about letting others into her space, only ever bringing around girls she was dating long term, or her designated filming partner. You never had a problem with it, letting Ellie know time and time again that the place was half hers, and she could bring whoever she wanted.

But that seemingly changed after you and her happened.

Because suddenly, there's a different girl at your apartment every night, and Ellie is fucking them ten different ways into the next month.

And it always happens to be on the nights before you have to wake up early to go in and open the record store.

She becomes relentless.

You first noticed it happening when she breezed past you on a Friday night, clearly dressed up for a night out. You couldn't really ignore the way your core tightened at how fucking good she looked, the feeling quickly overshadowed by the way she yet again left the house as if you weren't sitting right there.

After getting yourself to bed for some much needed shut eye, you were rudely awakened by the sound of your front door slamming open, followed by the sound of tumbling and soft giggles..

Which then slowly turned into the sounds of Ellie fucking a girl in her bedroom that was directly across from yours.

And it kept going, night after night, the sound of Ellie pleasuring another woman was all that you were left with. Not even your headphones on full volume could drown out the banging of Ellies headboard against the wall.

You have never been a jealous person, especially when it came to Ellie and her sex life. However, after what happened between the both of you, and the very clear fact that Ellie was indeed doing it out of spite..

You really couldn't ignore the fire you felt at the pit of your stomach whenever you heard some random girl moaning out Ellie's name to the top of her fucking lungs.

It was then that you came to terms with the fact that enough was enough.

And you had to move out.

It wasn't long until you wouldn't leave your room.

You seriously couldn't stomach the way it felt, being ignored by Ellie, her constant avoidance a reminder of how much of a bad idea it was to agree to filming with her in the first place. If that wasn't enough, constantly seeing her leave the apartment to go meet up with another girl started to hurt even more.

And you really didn't want to face the truth behind that.

There was something unsettling that came with the feeling it gave you, because how could you go from not even batting an eyelash at Ellie walking out of her bedroom with Julia, to feeling tears prickle at the edge of your eyes every time you heard her fucking someone else across from your room.

Because it's cruel, and you know you were wrong to leave her the way you did, but she left too. You knew that what you did was wrong, but surely you didn't deserve all of this? And why would she even want to hurt you like this in the first place? Surely you were the only one that felt this ridiculous conflicting feeling that only brought you stress.

And yet, you only found new ways to torture yourself.

It happens one night after work, you're tired and all you want to do is peel off your clothes and hop into bed.

Opting to grab your laptop, wanting to watch some mindless video on the internet to lull you to sleep, you are suddenly faced with something that had been waiting to haunt you.

A link to one of your videos with Ellie was still on your browser.

She had sent it to you a while ago, wanting to show you how well it was doing, and all the positive feedback that it was receiving, you meant to watch it at the time, but never got around to it. Now, it was sitting there, collecting dust until you decided to open it.

And you knew you shouldn't have, because that chapter of your life has closed, and you intended to keep it fully closed.

But curiosity did kill the cat, didn't it?

You didn't think twice before opening it, the link quickly flashing across your screen and taking you to Ellie's page. The thumbnail is of the two of you, the last video you guys had filmed. Its you, straddling Ellie on her bed, her strong hands gripping your hips, probably forcing you to grind down on her lap.

You feel your core tighten at the sight of it.

You don't look at it much longer, or read the comments either, because you know they will all be asking where you've gone, and whether or not you were coming back.

Instead of closing your laptop and going to sleep like you should have, you kept scrolling through Ellies page. You come to find the usual, seeing that she had been live the past few nights, as well as posted a few videos for her viewers to catch up on, none of it out of the ordinary.

Something does catch your eye however.

Its a video that was posted a few nights ago, and you can barely make it out, but you can see a thumbnail of Ellies tattooed hand pushed between a girls thighs, doing what you can only assume to be fingering her.

And that girl is definitely not you.

She had found herself a new partner.

It’s no shock that she did. She’d been actively fucking other girls, someone in and out of your apartment almost every night, something that she had made sure to make very clear to you…

But there was just something about actually seeing it that hurt like hell

You slammed your laptop shut, a bit too hard, but you were suddenly filled with something foreign to you, something that you hardly felt for anyone.

Quickly grabbing you blankets and tugging them over your body, you squeezed your eyes shut to try and erase the image of Ellie with another girl from your brain, the image slowly tainting the deepest corners of your mind so that you won't ever be able to do just that.

You couldn't do this anymore.

Ellie was just as bad at talking about her feelings as you were.

Because the morning after you and her had sex, she wanted nothing more than to wake up with you, kiss you, hold you, move on from this agonizingly slow phase that you two were in, where she was allowed to do the things that she always wanted to do, just conditionally.

She wanted to wake up, and move forward whatever the fuck you and her were stuck in.

But you didn’t. You simply woke up before her, and left, leaving Ellie to feel like a fucking idiot.

Because maybe she read into the entire thing wrong, maybe you didn’t feel anything for her, maybe you really did only see her as your roommate and nothing more than that….

Maybe that look in your eye that she was sure she saw when she was fucking you, was all in her head.

So when you ran, she did too.

And soon, Ellie’s sadness turned into anger, and all she wanted to do, was hurt you the same way that you hurt her.

She wanted you to hear her with other girls, she wanted you to see her with other women on her streams, she wanted you to see what it was that you’d lost, what you’d stupidly lost when you decided to run away from her the morning after it all.

But maybe she’d taken it too far.

Because Ellie’s anger turned into something that she didn’t want, because no matter how much noise she made, how good she tried to look whenever she was getting ready to go out with some random girl, no matter what she did to make you jealous, you never batted an eyelash her way, you never once reacted to anything that she did that was directed at you for the sole purpose of getting your attention.

And not only did it further prove to Ellie that you didn’t give a fuck about her, but it also made her so much more frustrated with you.

Did you seriously not have a fucking soul? Could you not even acknowledge her? Hurt for her? Feel hurt by her? Why wasn’t it working? Why weren’t you…..why couldn’t you just…..

Why couldn’t you just fucking want her.

Ellie was truly at her last straw, because being with other women was something she already didn’t like doing, but it was slowly eating away at her, picking away at her insides and making her feel hollow inside, a shell of who she used to be when she was with you.

And when she didn’t think things could get any worse, she found you doing something she only saw in her nightmares.

She hadn’t really noticed it at first, but slowly, your belongings began to disappear from the apartment. Particularly in the living room.

Your stack of blankets would get smaller and smaller as the week went by, the dorky little figures you had littered around different shelves and the tv stand started to disappear too, little parts of you started leaving, one by one, and Ellie was too far up her own ass to even notice.

Maybe if she had, she could’ve convinced you to stay.

In all honesty? Ellie probably wouldn’t even have realized you were leaving until it was too late, the girl far too consumed in her little revenge streak to notice the slow but sure disappearance of you, the way the remnants of you slowly began to leave one by one.

It just so happened that on a day that you were packing up some of your boxes, you had left your door cracked open, thinking that Ellie wasn’t home.

She was passing by your room when she heard a soft huff, the sound quickly catching her attention as she slowly walked towards your door, catching sight of the various opened boxes scattered around your room that was already looking sparse due to packing it all the way.

That. That was the straw the broke the camels fucking back.

Because suddenly, Ellie is pushing your door open, the force from her hand making it slam against your wall, the loud sound making you flinch to look over in her direction with wide eyes.

“Ellie?” You question softly.

The sound of her name rolling off your tongue makes a shiver run down her spine, because god….had she missed the way you said it.

Her eyes are angry, eyebrows furrows together as her eyes scan your room, looking at the boxes, your half empty closet, your empty book shelf.

“What the fuck is going on here?” She spits out, her tone making you wince slightly. It’s the first time you’ve heard her speak to you in almost an entire month and it’s so fucking hostile, so pointed.

This really wasn’t how you wanted this to go.

You let out a soft sigh, bringing your palm up to ran along your face as you look down at the boxes as well, heart sinking at the thought of going.

“Look…Ellie…I was planning on telling you…I just-“ she’s quick to cut you off, walking further into your bedroom as her eyes scan the walls, watching as they began to grow emptier and emptier the further in she looked. She scoffs, her green eyes finally landing on yours, her smoldering grip enough to take your breath away.

“Bull-fucking-shit. You weren’t going to tell me anything, and you know that” she argues, nostrils flared as she stares at you with eyes filled with that same glare of hate that you saw every time she’d glaze over you within recent weeks.

And she was right. You had no intention of telling her anything. She would learn that you were gone once you were gone, because that’s what you did.

You always ran.

You let out a sigh of defeat before you step away from her, fully intending on continuing packing. You didn’t want this to stop you, or put anymore obstacles in your way of leaving. This was what you had to do, and you knew that.

“I can’t stay here anymore, Ellie…things are fucked up between us and I just…I won’t deal with it anymore” you mumble out, your voice tired, weak. A clear indication of how you felt towards the entire situation. It was draining you, and you knew that for your own well being, you had to get out.

The sight of you packing as if she wasn’t in your room, trying to figure out why you were leaving, makes her even more upset. It blinds her from your words, from the weakness in your voice, in your appearance. She ignores it because the anger she feels is much easier to indulge in.

"So that's it? You're just gonna leave? Without saying anything to me?" she barks out, her tone making you feel worse than you already do.

And then it all stops, because why the hell are you feeling bad when this isn't even your fault.

You slowly turn to Ellie, your eyebrows furrowed as you stare at her in disbelief, cocking your head to the side slowly before you start to speak.

"Are you listening to yourself right now, Ellie? Do you ever stop to think for one second that not everything is about you?" The tone of your voice is so calm, words so slow and articulated, it barely even sounds like you're mad.

And it scares you, and it scares her.

You don't stop there, you couldn't even if you wanted to.

"This wasn't my idea, none of it was. I agreed to help you because you asked it of me, and I clearly have no fucking sense of boundaries. I get that what I did was wrong, and I shouldn't have left you that morning, but no one is fucking perfect" You defend, your own breath become more shallow the more you speak, your anger and frustration finally rising to the surface.

"This isn't good for me. You aren't good for me, you've been fucking different girls every goddamn night just to hurt me, and you're a fucking liar if you deny it." you spit out, making Ellie wince slightly, yet her eyebrows never unravel from how furrowed they are, and the frown on her lips is still there.

When you said it out loud though, she realized just how bad it was.

"I did it to get your fucking attention...not to hurt you" She barely whispers, staring down at you. You can't help but laugh softly, scoffing at her words before you give her a gentle sigh.

"Oh it got my attention, Ellie. It got it so much, that I can't bare for you to have it anymore..." you mumble out softly before you turn away from her, unable to stare into her eyes for any longer.

"I don't know what happened between us that morning...but I want nothing more than to just..forget about it all" You let out meekly, feeling yourself reduce to that small ball of insecurities once again.

And Ellie finally softens when she sees it, because you never let your guard down this much.

She inhales deeply, taking a step towards you, trying to get closer to you. You don't step back, or flinch, you simply ignore her, carrying on to pack your things as if she wasn't there, standing above you.

"You hurt me too...you know" she mumbled out, her voice finally dropping that hostile tone that she had when she first walked in. You're quick to turn towards her, spinning around to set your eyes that were quickly growing redder by the second.

"And Im sorry!" you shout, your voice going the loudest it had yet, it makes Ellie flinch.

You sigh out tiredly before you bring your hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "If I could go back and do it differently..I would..but too much has happened, Ellie...I don't..." you trail off, struggling to find the proper words before you sigh softly, finally speaking again.

"I don't see you the same way, anymore" you mumble out.

This makes Ellies heart seize up, because what do you mean by that? What are you trying to tell her?

You move to sit on your knees, you bare legs coming in contact with the cold, wooden floor as you begin packing more things in a different box. There's no more fighting, there isn't anymore arguing, or anger, it's just silent, the occasional sound of your clothes hitting each other when they hit you settle them in the box. You don't even bother to turn around and yell at Ellie, or even tell her to get out.

And maybe thats what's hurting her the most. You never yelled, you didn't cry or beg, you didn't do anything when she knew you heard her, saw her with those other girls. All of them were nothing to her, sorry attempts at trying to grab hold of your attention again, get you to show just a little bit of fucking anger, so that she knew you still felt something for her, so that she knew she still had you.

But it was clear to her with the way that you disregarded her after it all, as if she didn't even matter, that she didn't have you anymore.

Did she ever? Did she ever have a chance with you? Was she all in her head? Were you simply just a good friend? A decent roommate who promised to help her out when she needed help? Was all of it just....

Pretend?

She feels like she's running out of options, because she assumed that if anything, you two would fight and end up in a heated, passionate love making session where you two would admit what you had felt all along.

But Ellie was slowly coming to the conclusion that she was being fucking delusional.

Her decisions didn't let up thought, because soon, she's on her knees next to you, grabbing your wrists gently in her hands and pulling you to face her. She feels her heart break when you refuse, trying to pull away from her grasp, mumbling soft complaints of how you needed to finish packing.

When she finally tugs you a bit harder, forcing you to look at her, she feels the weight of her mistakes finally settle on her chest, because you're crying. Your eyes are puffy and your cheeks are stained, and it's all her fucking fault.

She bites back a whimper, tugging her bottom lip into her mouth as she feel her own throat burn with tears.

"Hey...look at me...come on...where's my pretty girl...come on.." She tries over and over again, voice breaking, making you whimper as you try tugging your arms from her grasp.

"Don't you see how fucked up this is, Ellie? We were just screaming at each other and now...now you're calling me your girl" you plead with her, the words bubbling past your lips as the mere sight of here forces more tears from your eyes, making it harder and harder to talk.

Ellie can't talk her way out of this one, not with you. She knows there isn't much she can do, or say, and she feels like she's all out of options, because you're right. All of this is so fucked up, and it makes her insides burn because she's hurt, and you're hurt, and it feels like there's nothing she can do to fix it.

She does the only thing she feels will work. She kisses you.

It's filled with everything. Passion, longing, happiness, sadness, anger, everything that had been pent up between the both of you is poured into the kiss, and it's enough to make you feel dizzy.

But you don't pull away, you melt into her, just like you always do. She feels it too, feels the way you let you defenses down, taking it as a chance to tug your wrists up and around her neck, her own arms resting on your hips as she pulls you closer, her lips working against yours.

"Im....fuck...im so sorry, baby....never meant to hurt you" She mumbles against you, her words coming out as a breathy sigh against your lips, making you moan softly against her. She pushes her tongue into your mouth, giving your waist a soft squeeze.

"M'sorry too..Ellie....shouldn't have left..." You whine against her, and she's quickly shaking her head, gently tugging you up to stand with her before she's pulling you too your bed.

"Just...lemme take care of you..alright" She hums against your lips before she gently pushes you back to lay on your bed, her own body crawling over yours, resting her weight on your body as she goes back to kissing you.

It's so slow, and sensual, and it feels like the entire world is quiet, like you're fading into her, and she's fading into you, and you both are becoming one. It feels so fucking right, and the hole that had been growing in your chest is finally filling up, the essence that is Ellie slowly acting as the medicine that you needed all along.

Ellie rolls over, gripping your hips and tugging you to straddle her waist as she lays back against your bed. Her green eyes eat you up, strong hands already running along your hips and thighs, giving you a squeeze before her hand creeps up your t shirt, pushing it up a bit before it slips under, grasping your boob and massaging it in her hands.

"Fuck...look at you...missed you so much, pretty girl....you can't even imagine.." She sighs softly under her breath, eager hands roaming your body hungrily, as if they've deprived of you for so long, missing the way your skin spilled out from under her hands, always so responsive for her.

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch her practically worshiping your body with her hands, a soft whine leaving your lips as you rest your hands on her hips, pushing up her t shirt a bit as your thumbs rub small circle into her pale hips.

Her hands rest on your hips, forcing you to grind down onto her lap, making you whine softly, the feeling her her sweats bunching up right at your core, your cotton pajama shorts leaving much too room to be exposed by her touch.

She sits up, grabbing the hem of your shirt before she tugs it off your body, groaning softly as her lips immediately latch onto your nipple, biting and sucking. You moan softly, arching your back a bit and forcing more of you to her mouth, hands wrapped around her neck, toying with the hair at the nape of her neck.

Ellie pushes you back, resting you to lay down before she tugs your pajama shorts and panties off in one go. You promptly spread your legs for her, letting her settle between them, the small gesture making her groan, her strong hands gripping your thighs, grinding against your bare pussy.

"Fuck...such a good girl for me..." she sighs softly against your lips.

You whine, reaching down and tugging at her own pants, fumbling with the waistband of her shorts that hung oh so fucking low.

"Off..wanna feel you.." You moan softly against her, resulting in a soft chuckle from her. She presses one last kiss to your lips before she nods.

"Whatever you want baby...fuck" she mumbles softly under her breath when she pulls back to start tugging her own clothes off, catching a glimpse of your soaking wet pussy and naked body in the dim light of your room.

She looks so fucking desperate, nearly tripping over her sweats as she tugs them off, tossing them somewhere else in your room. It's like she can't get the clothes off quick enough, immediately settling between your legs again once she's naked, groaning softly a the feeling of your pussy against her body.

Her eagerness makes you giggle, and Ellie feels like she's on cloud fucking nine when she hears it, so soft and gentle. She pouts softly, staring down at you while she's already moving to position her pussy over yours, tossing your leg over her shoulder.

"What are you laughing at...hm?" She questions softly, her hips slowly moving against yours as she lets out a soft moan, eyes never leaving yours.

You can barely get the words out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel her slick pussy against yours, clits bumping together in a way that has you nearly salivating.

She chuckles above you, a soft groan following the noise as her lips graze along your calf.

"Thats what I thought...fuck....your pussy is too fuckin good, princess' She moans out softly, her hips moving slowly against yours.

You moan loudly, your hand coming to grip her thigh as you move your hips in tow with hers.

"F-fuck, Ellie....you...that feels so good" you babble out, your other hand gripping the sheets beneath you as she fucks her pussy down onto yours.

Ellie smirks softly as she watches you, watches the way you fall apart beneath her.

"Thats my fuckin girl....you're the only fucking one I need...fuck...." She groans, turning her head a bit to kiss your calf again before her teeth sink into you, biting and sucking your skin, making you moan loudly.

You feel her speed up, hips growing desperate as she chases both hers and your orgasm, making your head spin as your nails dig into her thigh, sure to leave marks in the morning.

"Im....god...Im close Ellie.....fuuuckkkk....dont stop" you gasp out, low, lust filled eyes staring up at her as she continues bullying your pussy with hers, both of your arousal squelching together, making the most explicit noise you've ever fucking heard.

"Come on baby...want you to cum for me...can you do that? Fuck...I feel it too....that's it, pretty girl.." Ellie is babbling too, her lust clouded braun barely uttering words that are comprehensible.

You see her eyes squeeze shut, her moans getting louder and more high pithed, sounding so fucking pretty above you.

You feel like you'll explode, your back arching as the familiar feeling settles in your core, your pussy getting wetter and wetter as you feel your orgasm grow closer.

"A-ah! Ellie!" You scream out as you come undone beneath her.

And she isn't far behind, leaning down and crashing her lips against yours, forcing you to swallow her moans as she cums hard against your pussy, the both of you breathing hard as her hips sputter, pussy sliding around sloppily against yours as she becomes so fucked out, that she loses her rhythm completely.

And just like before, she lays there, on top of you, trying to catch her breath, face tucked against your neck, hands keeping you close, as if you'll disappear in thin air at any given moment.

There's so much going through your head, trying to figure out what it is that happens from here, where you and here go, what steps to take after, all of which come up with blank answers whenever you try to figure out what to do.

You assume she will fall asleep on you as she did before, knock out immediately and leave you to lay there with your plaguing thoughts.

She doesn't, though. You hear a soft hum from her lips, her hands squeeze your waist gently, before she speaks against your neck.

"I love you...so much.." she sighs out, her voice breaking a bit as if shed break down at any given moment.

You aren't sure what you'll do from this point on, but you do know one thing.

You won't run away from Ellie, ever again.

[love-belle]

you're the best in my life and i lost you !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which they truly are the best in each other's lives but they lost them.

or

for when you finally get to know that maybe it is unrequited. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader

prequel - i'd never walk cornelia street sign ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings - language

author's note - finally here!!!!! i REALLLLLLY hope u like it !!! i have so much planned for this week and i hope i can show u all of it soon !!! thank u so much for reading i love you <3

tagged - @willowpains @lexxlouuu @topaz125 @leclercloml @sophiaasf @slut4peterparker @crlsummer @ananyasr1bughead @official-chicken-little @jspitwall @lovely-blackinnon

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, lilymhe and 3,927,588 others

yourusername my sophomore album "good riddance" is finally here and i'm soooo excited for u all to hear little pieces of my heart sewn together. every single syllable is what i feel and what i have been feeling. we all have that one person that we absolutely refuse to talk about so just like that, i ended up writing a whole album instead. thank you sooo much for supporting me, i love you all forever. and to the inspiration behind this, thank you. you were good to me. you're the best i've ever had.

19,628 comments

username SCREECHING WHAT THE FUCK

username oh my god

username now im half of myself here without you?????? you're the best in my life and i lost you????? and we had no control when it fell through???? it was one sided hate how i hurt you?????

-> username WHERE DO WE GO NOW

username i 😭 know 😭 i 😭 know 😭 better 😭 you're 😭 no 😭 guarantee 😭

username I ALMOST LOST IT I'LL HEAL EVENTUALLY BUT FASTER WHEN UR NEXT TO ME NEXT TO ME

-> username IM CODEPENDENT BUT TRYING HARD NOT TO BE IM BETTER WHEN UR NEXT TO ME

username why the FUCK aren't people talking about the blue and how it's literally her and charles???

-> username "you came out of the blue like that i never could've seen you coming i think you're everything i wanted" NAHHH FRRRRR

username there was absolutely NO NEED to break my heart like this

username charles is probably tearing up rn likeeee

-> username bro's hiding in a corner bc i KNOW lily is out for blood today

danielricciardo cool album

-> yourusername thank u i wrote it myself!!!!!!

-> username as if daniel's stories aren't js him crying and singing along the whole album 😭😭😭

username "i know it won't work" had NO business ruining me like that when i know damn well i haven't even held hands with someone

username THE VOICE MESSAGE IN THE INTERLUDE OMGKMGKMGKGSJJAJS

-> username i bet you my first born that it's CHARLES

-> username lost it when it was cut from charles' message (yes it was charles and yes it broke my heart) to y/n's like THERE WAS NO NEED TO HURT ME LIKE THAT

username i wish for pain and im glad we only live once bc this woman WILL find more creative ways to hurt us with her amazing songwriting and vocal skills

lilymhe LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVEEEEE

-> yourusername I LOVE YOUUUUU

lilymhe SO SO SO GOOD AHHHSJSJSJS

-> yourusername STOP TYSM IM GONNA CRY

lilymhe the only album to ever exist btw

-> yourusername ur the 1 for me ❤️

username still not over two people like what do u MEAN "hate how we touched just to push things aside. when u take me for granted i make it alright"

username she's never attaining peace for releasing this and ruining my nights

username OH I KNOW SPIRALLING IS MISERABLE I SHOULD PROBABLY GO BACK HOME WHY DOES THAT FEEL DIFFICULT DIFFICULT

carmenmmundt still crying

-> yourusername same 😭😭😭

carmenmmundt george wants to comment but he can't see through his tears

-> yourusername PLEASE OMG

username "and to the inspiration behind this, thank you. you were good to me. you're the best i've ever had." DO U WANT ME TO CRY

username charles i am in ur walls

username i will never understand how she wrote "it's nice to have a friend" for charles and now she wrote "two people" like how did THAT transition happen

-> username the worst transition ever btw

landonorris thid is si good anf im cryjng so harf whay thr fucj

-> yourusername lando deep breaths

-> landonorris DINT TELL MR TI TAKR DEEP BRESTGS I SWRAR

-> yourusername wow

-> username i identify so much with lando it's INSANE

username somewhere in monaco pascale leclerc is listening to this album and it's a good day ❤️

-> username bet u literally my bank account the entire leclerc household is BLASTING this

carla.brocker words cannot explain how proud i am 🩷🩷🩷 i love you so much big sis

-> yourusername carlaaaaa 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 u own my heart i LOVEEEE you

-> username this made me tear up whatcthebfuck

username no bc i KNOW charles heard "will u cry" and CRIED like that man is not strong enough to bear that

-> username no bc "u don't move me???? i see through u????? i don't follow???? i don't want to?????"

-> username that man is in SHAMBLES about this rn

username GOOD RIDDANCE TOUR WHEN

username this will be my personality for years to come

lorenzotl proud of you y/n/n 🤍

-> yourusername i love u charlotte's bf thank u

username cannot breathe bc "it's almost like you like to let me down" and "i hate the fact that i miss u around"

≡;- ꒰ °twitter꒱

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, landonorris, danielricciardo and 2,672,882 others

charles_leclerc so proud of you. seeing you live your dream is the best feeling ever and i hope you get to see the world just like we talked about. things aren't the same but my support for you will always be unwavering. this is what you were made for and i couldn't be more happy 🤍

tagged yourusername

16,628 comments

username what the actual fuck

username WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

username stfu this isn't DONE like u CAN'T do this

username "things aren't the same but my support for you will always be unwavering" WHAT IF I CRY

username so u mean to tell me that he went to her show after MONTHS even when they're not together just to support her???? bc he wants her to see the world even if things aren't the same????? what the fuck

username i did NOT need this at 7am in the morning come back later

username babe wake up new y/ncharles lore js dropped

danielricciardo amazing show!! aren't you glad i dragged you there?

-> charles_leclerc i literally booked the tickets myself what are you on about?

-> danielricciardo let me have this one mate

username last night was UNREAL bc wdym y/n's ex fiancé was there and wdym she sang full machine and the blue for him and wdym he came on stage and spoke so fondly about her and WDYM MAX VERSTAPPEN AND LANDO NORRIS THREW WATER AT THE AUDIENCE JS FOR THE HELL OF IT

username this is my roman empire

username i know he was dying inside like

username imagine fumbling a bad bitch like y/n couldn't be me LMFAOOOO

username y'all brutal in the comments let my man grovel in peace

landonorris nice caption. now say i love you.

-> charles_leclerc i love you lando

-> landonorris not to ME to HER (i love you too 😘😘😘🥰🥰🥰😍😍😍)

-> charles_leclerc oh (no)

username SCREAMING DANIEL SNATCHING Y/N'S MIC FROM HER AND SINGING HIS FAV SONG FROM THE ALBUM

-> username THEY'RE SO UNSERIOUS 😭😭😭

username this caption will haunt me in my dreams

username is it js me or did her voice crack when she said "now i know it's unrequited"

-> username NO BC I FR THOUGHT THAT IT WAS JS ME

-> username she genuinely looked on the verge of tears throughout "405" like

-> username imagine being y/n and singing the most heartbreaking song ever about ur ex IN FRONT OF UR EX

username no bc this feels like a confirmation that they'll never be together guys why does this feel so final i want my parents back.

username SCREAMING WHATHEBRCUKXKSKA

carlossainz55 surreal night. loved seeing you lose your cool every time she was nearing your side of the stage

-> charles_leclerc just because we can speak doesn't mean we should

username the camera switching from y/n to charles when she sang "i know it won't work" was so me like the camera person is messy js like me fr

username genuinely in ruins on my bedroom floor rn y/ncharles nation we LOST

username no bc i CANNOT enter their friendship era ever again after seeing what i have seen for the past few years

-> username fr like people don't GET IT!!!! they were supposed to get MARRIED

username forever crying bc of them 💔💔💔

yourusername forever grateful for u!!!! thank u so much 🫶🏼

*liked by charles_leclerc*

yourusername u deserve the world

*liked by charles_leclerc*

username charles replying to everyone but y/n on the post HE made for HER makes me so idk like it's weird

username no bc why do i have the feeling that y/n and charles are NOT good and this is js something done for "damage control" or wtv

username im.

[mayuichi]

Spending your birthday with them.

Include:

Genshin Impact [ Alhaitham, Wriothesley, Heizou ]

Honkai: Star Rail [ Aventurine & Veritas Ratio ]

Persona 5 [ Akechi Goro ]

Moriarty the Patriot [ William James Moriarty & Fred Porlock ]

Content Warning: fem!reader, I'm sorry for men that may read this! If you easily switch pronouns in your mind then go ahead, but there's mention of the reader wearing a dress at some point! (kind of irrevelant though, so I think you can imagine something else then?), pet names and.. that's all i think-. it's just a fluff so...

may's note: im so sorry i took so long to come back!! ive got a lot on my plate recently, i had planned another oneshot to come out but but BUUT!! My best friend's birthday is right around the corner when I write this (aha just a day before.. hi..) so im writing this for her, with her favourites and some that i know she loves <3 HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!! I HOPE YOULL HAVE AN AMAZING DAY AND THAT YOU GOT THAT PLUSH YOU WANTED TO GO WITH AVENTURINE!! ive kinda rushed this to come out ngl, because its been a month im like "i have the time" until i didnt have time anymore.. sorry if it sucks :(

This artwork has been made by susucre! Do not steal/use it! every other used for the headers are official arts!

Even if he doesn't want to, he has duties now. Or at least, unexpected duties. But you can be sure Alhaitham always makes some time for you. How can he not? You're his sweetheart. Well, he isn't one to give sweet names but he still thinks so.

However, how could've you expect him to forget about your birthday? It's once a year, and he doesn't really care much about them usually. But we're talking about you. Of course he can't forget about it. He wants you happy, and he knows you'd hate if he doesn't at least wish you a happy birthday.

But what was your surprise when you find him still in bed, beside you, his right arm drapped over you as he reads from the other. Isn't he supposed to be at work, at the Akademiya? You don't even have the time to inquire, he saw your eyes fluttering open.

“Good morning.„ he briefly looks over you, before focusing back onto his book. But he strokes your side with his hand gently. He isn't much of a talker, but his small gestures are everything, aren't they?

He rapidly finishes his page, and places the book down to turn to you. “I'll let you take a shower and I'll prepare you breakfast.„ you can't even reply that he's already out of bed and heading to the kitchen. You'll just have to go shower.

It's your special day. Of course you'll wear a pretty dress, you want to feel extra pretty for today. When done, you head to the living room, finding him waiting for you to eat. It isn't a feast, but more than enough for the both of you. The silence is comfortable, only your breathing.

“Where are you going?„ he inquires when he sees you about to open the front door. You thought you'd go on a walk. “I haven't overworked myself for a week so I could have a full day off for you to ditch me, you know?„

It wasn't much, maybe even a bit offensive for some. But the idea that he paid attention enough to be certain to have a complete day off for you is enough to make you smile. And so, you chuckle and walk towards him.

“The weather is nice. It's sunny. We should go out together, don't you think?„ you tilt your head, waiting for his approval.. or for a compromise.

“It is. It's the perfect weather to do nothing at all. Or to read next to a window.„ without further notice, he stands and pulls you with him to the nearby window. Making you sit in his lap, he pulls out a book and rests his chin on top of your head.

“Maybe it isn't the best birthday you'll ever have, but I hope my company is enough.„ he isn't necessarily insecure, far from it even. But it's your special day. He just wants to make you happy, doesn't he?

And even if he says so, just reading in his lap with him, is enough. Spending time with him makes it nicer. Leaning further into his chest, you sigh and start to read with him. He's careful to wait for you, to ensure you finished before he actually turns the page.

He'll take breaks from time to time to make you both a drink, or to let you talk a bit. It isn't partying, but being able to spend the day together, reading and talking, without him possibly thinking about his duties is a luxury he doesn't always allow himself.

And he's more than glad for it to be with you.

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐒˚ ◌༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ⋆·˚ ༘ *︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚༊*·˚

Until now, Wriothesley was used to stay in the Fortress most of his time. It never bothered him. Sigewinne keeps him company, and his prisoners aren't too bad most of the time. Even Neuvillette or Clorinde comes visit him from time to time.

But it changed when he met you. He didn't want you to be that often in the Fortress, and yet he couldn't help but want you. You don't know it, but he even asked Neuvillette for your birthday. It has never been that much of a talk in between you. You were both kind of over it after all. You aren't toddlers for who it is extremely important to get one year older.

But he wants your first birthday with him to be special, to be something you'd remember. He wants to make this day amazing. And for that, he had to have permissions and ensure the paperwork was done before that day. He had to be prepared for any possibility, to be called in for an emergency if someone tried to escape, or if they get overwhelmed and for your day to be ruined.

But he was willing to take that risk.

On your occasional weekly visit, you both talk and drink tea together, as any other time. You're not sure when, yet now, he has you in his arms, holding you close. It is as if he believed you were leaving. He's quick to compose himself and just steals a kiss from you, to hide his worries behind that smirk he always has when he surprises you.

“By the way, I've heard your birthday is soon, isn't it?„ you raise an eyebrow. You haven't told him, yet he knows. “Would you like us to spend the day together?„

You were so sure he meant inside the Fortress of Meropide, that when he mentioned that it wouldn't be there, but in the city, your eyes widened. Of course, you firstly worried about his work. It isn't like he's just a guard who could take a day off or a sick day. He has a prison to keep in place.

But he assured you it'd be alright. And so you trust him. There's no reason for you not to.

Your birthday was soon to come, and you waited for him in front of the Fortress' entrance. Dressed in a pretty outfit, that you kept on for this occasion, you obviously felt amazing. And upon seeing you, Wriothesley grinned. “Someone made herself extra beautiful for today.„

His tone flirty, he wraps his left arm around your waist and pulls you close, pressing his lips on your hair. “It suits you perfectly. But you're always beautiful.„ his words meant the world to you.

And so began the day. Wriothesley is careful, meticulous even. He makes sure you stay hydrated, well fed and have fun. If you want a pastry, he'll buy it without a second thought. This piece of jewerly looks pretty on you? He'll offer it to you, no matter the cost.

It's weird for everyone to see the Duke out of the Fortress. He's respected for sure, and well known. You hold hands all day long, sometimes stealing kisses when you're in a alley or when no one's looking.

When the sun fades away to let the moon takes place, stars show up too. Now sitting near the water, you both look up at the navy blue sky. Wriothesley lets out a sigh and clears his throat. “I hope you had fun. I'm not sure when I'd be capable to have such a long time outside the Fortress without it being work related.„

Sure or not, you're just happy he manages to have time for you. And he's relieved everything went smoothly. He leans closer to you, his lips grazing your cheek. “Happy birthday.„

And even if it has caused him some stress, he's ready to do it over again next year if it makes him see your eyes so sparkly and shiny with delightment and happiness.

He'd risk anything to see you smile and hear your laughers echoing in his ears.

-ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹｡ₓ ू ₒ ु ˚ ‧̫‧ ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　⑅ˏ͛-

The good part of being a detective is that he knows how to not leave any clue about his true intentions. And so, he can surprise you whenever he wants and you won't even realise he has planned it for a while!

Since Heizou can hardly take a day off recently, you agreed it'd be better if you spend the day with your friends and just leave your evening for him.

It was an amazing day, your friends and you strolled around the city, went to some fancy places and just spoiled you entirely. But it felt off, knowing that Heizou wasn't with you like you wished he could've.

They dropped you by your house, and with a sigh, you stepped inside. Of course Heizou wasn't home yet. It wasn't surprising, he's quite overwhelmed with work lately. Yet there was a small disappointment in your chest. Your heart was a bit heavier. But you brush it off.

By the time he gets home, you had just finished preparing dinner. He steps closer with that shitty grin and clears his throat. “Such a sweetie, making dinner when I hoped I'd have time to treat you today.„ of course, he doesn't want you to do any effort for today, but his schedule decided otherwise.

And so, with a swift movement, he shoves a bouquet against your chest. “I know it isn't much compared to how it could've been nicer to spend the day together, but I hope it'll make it up for it a bit.„

Heizou has always been a romantic at heart, he loves it when he sees your cheeks flushing and feels your breath growing faster from his teasing. And he's delighted to see that sweet blush spreading slowly.

Leaning in close, he takes your hands in his, and presses a chaste kiss on your lips. “Let's eat dinner and enjoy the time we have tonight, alright? I need to make it up for you.„

He lets you take care of the bouquet first, ensuring it won't die just yet. He teases you about your day, plays with you some games and even let you win for once. And needless to say the night ends in something.. more than just flirt and teasing.

But he hopes next year won't be as busy, so he can treat you like the princess you are in his eyes.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ☽ ✧˖*°࿐ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A gambler. That's what he'll always be no matter what, no matter the day. He needs to work every single day, to be a good asset for the IPC. He can't afford losing. He will never accept it.

But today, Aventurine thought it'd be nice to let you experience gambling too. Well, not as much as he usually does, but more in a regular casino. He's obviously well known here, and has some free drinks. But he wants you to enjoy it too.

He teaches you how to do, the ropes of each games. To guess when to stop, and more importantly of course, to understand the rules and that losing can cost a lot. But deep down, Aventurine doesn't give a fuck about how much money you'll lose. He has way more than someone can think of.

Each games were fun, but you hated seeing those girls eyeing him like you don't exist. Don't they see you, the gorgeous girl sitting next to him, with who he holds hands? Or perhaps they don't care. But it frustrates you.

Even more so when one comes closer and accidentally spills wine on Aventurine's jacket. He doesn't react at first. But he grows more and more impatient as she tries to clean her mess.

But he got fed up when she literally sat in between the both of you. Who does she think she is? “Excuse me, Miss,„ with a dry chuckle and bright smile, he stands up and walks behind her, “don't you see her?„

Swiftly, almost as if he has always been ready for it, he pulls you close, your head resting on his chest. Your face flushes bright red of course, but you don't say anything. “She already holds the string. And compared to you, she doesn't care about my money. So if you please, do not dare to bother us further on her special day.„

He leads you away, and yet, casts them a last glance, “Except if you want to face the consequences, that is. But I doubt you would like it.„

He'd never let anyone makes you feel inferior, nor worthless, and even less when it's supposed to be your day. The day he caters to your every need without any complaint or question.

Upon arriving to a new game, away from those nuisance, he holds your hand in his, pressing his forehead against yours. “I'm sorry, darling. But I promise you, you're the only one in my eyes. The prettiest, the cutest, and the most loveable woman I've ever set my eyes on.„

He'd cherish you. He knows the pain, and he wants to keep you away from it. He struggles at time, but every effort is worth of your smile. Every day is a delight to get home to you, to know you're his, and that he's yours.

That he has a home. A home with you.

☆.｡.:*　❥　-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-　☽　.｡.:*☆

What were you thinking when you first confessed to him? Of course you thought he'd reject you. We're talking about Veritas Ratio. But to your surprise, he accepted! But maybe you should've been careful... He's a teacher.

It isn't uncommon for Veritas Ratio to call you stupid or dumb, because you don't understand something or that you made a mistake on something simple. But you also know he'll always be here for you.

Compared to one of his colleage, he isn't particularly rich. Don't get me wrong, he is completely financially stable, and he won't be anytime soon the type to get ruined. But basically, if you need special teaching in something he doesn't master, he won't hesitate to help you with it.

He can't help but put intellect into a bit everything he does. But he knows it can piss you off at times, especially when it's not the moment for it.

Today, he has a long day. Longer than intended. So you nicely bring him lunch. Yet he requests of you to stay until his break is over. You know he isn't one to care about birthdays, but he does remember them if he is supposed to know them. Yours is no exception.

“I'm going to be home later than usual tonight, but perhaps you have any wish for how we spend our time?„ it isn't often that he lets you so openly choose. But you don't wait more time to ask if you could watch a movie and snuggle. You need nothing more than some rest, and so does he.

Laughers fill the empty classroom, except for the both of you. He knows when to not overdo it, especially with you. He will never admit it entirely, but he doesn't want to risk losing you. He can't. Not when you bring him so much by just existing.

There's a reason why he doesn't want you to be to close to that blonde, don't you think? But it doesn't matter.

In the evening, after you shared dinner, you set on the couch with him, snuggling up. His left hand caressing your side while his right one is holding a pen. Of course he can't only watch a movie, he needs to keep on going with his paperwork. But he doesn't entirely focus on it.

However, from time to time, you'd hear from Veritas that he clicks his tongue. He seems rather.. unpleased. And when you take a look, you don't see anything wrong. “Of course you don't, you're too much of an idiot to realise that student's mistake. What a pity.„

Unfortunately for you, you dared to ask what was the mistake.. and now you're in for a lecture. He sits you up and explains to you, in a rather annoyed tone. It isn't a surprise to say that you both don't even noticed when the movie has finished.

You're about to stand up when he holds you back, pulling you in his lap. “Don't you dare run away from my lecture. You asked to know, so you'll know.„ It promises to be an interesting evening and night, especially if you try to push your luck.

Veritas will make sure you get the appropriate punishment if his patience runs out by the time he's done with you.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ੈ✩‧₊˚ೃ⁀➷˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚.ೃ࿐

Have you ever imagined he'd steal your heart? A detective by day, a Phantom Thief by night. He earned his title well, he's definitely a prince in your eyes.

“Are you still listening?„ Akechi inquires. You have to admit, you weren't. You were too charmed into his eyes, shining as he shares his day with you.

“I've been thinking, there's an amusement park not far from here. Would you like to go with me?„ he asks. He isn't really scared of asking you on a date anymore. Of course, he couldn't help but feel like he isn't enough at times. But you love him, right? He can't let his insecurities win over.

And so, you are now on a date with him, on your birthday. He cares for a bit everything. He makes sure the sun isn't hitting you too hard, that you drink enough, and especially have fun.

You're the only one lucky enough to see him almost constantly out of his detective prince persona. To know the real him. He has his issues, and sometimes he may snaps at you. But he apologises and proves that he changes. He already does, but he tries to make sure you know he's willing to become better for you.

You're his light, and he can't lose you. At first, he even thought you loved that coffee shop's employee, but he felt lucky when you reciprocated his feelings.

Since then, Akechi would take you out often. To the beach, at restaurant, or even just for a walk. He wants you to know he cares, and he wants you only. He needs to be careful though, but he makes it work out.

Getting into a bit every attractions, he even ends up winning you a teddy bear. No one is ever too old for one after all, right? As he hands it to you, he presses a kiss on your lips, soft and tender, as if he wants the time to stop.

The sun sets slowly, and you get into the Ferris Wheel to end up the day. It's cozy, just the two of you. He holds you close, his nose in your hair as he breathes in your scent. “Happy birthday, my love.„

Why would he need to say anything more? Your heart races, and you look up at him with a sheepish smile. No one can mistake that expression on both of your faces. You're so undeniably in love with each other.

“I know I fucked up, especially when you discovered what I've done. But I'll become better. For you, and for us. So please, stay with me.„ he couldn't help but squeezing you tighter against him, as if you won't allow him time.

“I love you. So fucking much.„ he whispers as the sun disappears from view, letting the moon rise slowly. He'll always do his best for you, to be worthy of you.

Because he loves you. And he'll make every birthday from now on special for you.

·:¨༺ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　✮　☄. *. ⋆ ༻¨:·

It took him time to allow himself to be vulnerable in front of you. To allow you to see the worst part of him. To see the monster beneath. He was certain he'd lose you. And yet, you're still here, beside him.

William is more than delighted to know you aren't ready to leave him. To know you'll stay. He doesn't entirely understand his feelings himself, but he has them, and that's all that matters.

To say William cares about birthdays is an understatement. He doesn't make big things, but he shows his care for sure. So don't you dare think you'll be an exception.

He has been quite busy lately, but he made sure he'd be here for your birthday. From waking to sleep. He stays in bed with you until you stir awake. Your eyes flutter open, the first sight being his blonde locks.

He presses a gentle kiss on your forehead and lets you get ready while he goes preparing breakfast for you. Going downstairs, you smell the sweet scent of food filling your nose.

He serves you, as well as himself, before eating and letting you talk of whatever comes in your mind. He could listen to you all day long, but today wasn't that. He'd spend some quality time with you, no matter what.

He helps you putting on your coat, and holds your hand as you get inside the carriage. He feels your head resting on his shoulder, and he simply caresses the back of your hand with his thumb.

Getting into town, he dismisses the carriage for now. No need for that. He wants you to enjoy the place. If there's something appealing to you, he'll be ready to let you have it. But in the end, he's mostly the one who wants to buy you things.

A beautiful necklace, it'd go perfectly around your neck. Gesturing you to get closer, he carefully puts it around your neck and smiles. “It looks beautiful on you.„ his voice, smooth and quiet, holds so much love. Without hesitation, he buys it for you.

You walk hands in hands, past bakeries and shops, stopping when something would be nice for you. You're definitely spoiled, and it was unexpected for you. You aren't with William for his money, and he knows it. But today, he wants to make sure you'll remember it.

By the evening, inside the carriage to get back home, he lets you rest against him. It has been a tiring day after all, yet so thrilling. But the best was to come in his eyes.

Entering the manor, the living room has been decorated especially for you, a bouquet from Fred's garden waiting as well as a freshly baked cake by Louis. And they were all here too. Well, some like Sebastian aren't so happy, but they could make that effort.

He has planned it all, and it was worth it. For that smile, those happy tears, and those laughers and happiness filling the manor for the rest of the evening.

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚︵‿︵‿୨✧༺♥༻∞୧‿︵‿︵‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

He has never been much of a talker. Ever since you both met, he mostly listened to you, no matter what you'd say. And he has a great memory too.

Fred is a caring man, he just stays quiet. He doesn't want to be noticed, he likes his tranquility, despite the circumstances of his current work under William. He absolutely adores the idea of being in charge of the garden, though.

He doesn't show it, but he appreciates plants and flowers. And whenever you may search him, you always find him there. He's peacefully repotting some flowers, to make sure they can grow further.

His head snaps up when you ask him if you can help. “Shouldn't you.. be with the others, celebrating your birthday..?„ he's unsure. He looks at you with suspicions, but in the end, he relents. You must have your reasons to not be celebrating it with them.

He loves spending time with you, but he doesn't want you to restrain yourself from having a good time just because he's tending to flowers.

But when he sees you, right here, with a smile as you carefully move a flower, it feels him with joy. He doesn't show his love much, he does it through small gestures like making sure there's always some of your favourite flowers in the bedroom for the scent. Or to stay with you throuhough breakfast.

It's those small gestures that makes you love him even more each day. And you just want to spend time with him, especially today.

He shyly scoots closer to you, to correct you. “You shouldn't be doing it like that.. it can hurt the roots.„ he doesn't scold you, he just tries to teach you.

Yet, he doesn't move away once done. He stays close. Until he gathered the courage to press his lips against your temple. “Happy birthday.„

It's cute, the way he quickly walks away to care for other plants. But you just thank him quietly. The day passes in a blur, and without even noticing, the moon is in the sky, and you're both still in the greenhouse.

He holds you tight against him, the garden not over yet but it's too late to keep working. And he has cut a rose to give you, making sure to also cut the thorns so you can't get hurt.

“We should head back inside, it's getting cold.„ he helps you up, until you're both home. He even helps to wash your hands, in your sleepy state.

He never thought he'd enjoy gardening with someone so much, and yet..

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

/ᐠ - ˕ •マ Ⳋ mayuchi's property. do not repost, copy or translate without permission.

[h4venpha]

hi!… my personal theories on sylus’s myth ending:

ive read over the myth multiple times, and god the wording is so vague. so this is just my theory and future reference for if and when i plan on writing for his myth. mind you, i did get extremely creative when writing this and analyzing his myth. this is just how i like to perceive it to close up loose ends/vague wording within the myth itself. feel free to respond w ur own ideas/comments! :3 MAJOR SPOILERS!!! obviously..

i like to theorize that the moment mc stabbed sylus in the chest in chapter 6, is when their realities begin to shift. especially sylus: he begins to transform and lose his mind.

“The mad dragon spreads his wings and surges forth before crashing to the ground amidst the humans’ screams.” this line in particular is interesting because it seems like he’s so.. out of it already? like his humanity is leaving him, and the dragon inside of him is beginning to take over. his soul is split at this point, i like to see it as his dragon form becoming his physical form, and the “human” part of him becoming his alternate reality soul.

mc’s soul as well begins to split in between realities, but not in the same way as sylus. her soul splits and becomes a physical soul and an alternate reality soul. but its more like full dissociation and less like sylus’s where his humanity full on splits from his dragon biology. NOW FOLLOW ALONG. TRUST.

i theorize that both mc and sylus’s physical forms were captured that night. and when mc find him at the chapel, injured and bleeding out, THOSE are both their alternate souls. they bind alternate reality souls in the chapel:

the souls that bonded together shared an alternate reality. regardless that both of their physical forms were captured, in this shared reality, they were both themselves the way they remembered each other, which is why sylus began to heal and their curse didnt exist in this reality.

this shared reality includes the scene of them putting up decorations in the chapel, abyssal blossom, and the scene of sylus drying mc’s hair (where they pinky promise not to betray each other):

now, chapter 9. going back to their PHYSICAL forms, both mc and sylus are held by the legion. while sylus isnt really there mentally in his physical form, mc can sort of switch to hers. (which means being present in the shared reality is more like her dissociating to cope with everything):

sometime after this (i honestly dont know how long but im gonna guess no more than a week and a half..?): doomsday judgement day comes! mc taken to the court of justitia. mind you, before leaving to go to the court, one of the soldiers tells mc that the dragon has broken free of his restraints.:

in the middle of the sacred judicator enumerating her crimes, mc is unintentionally calling to sylus. and it doesnt matter that he’s not mentally there in his dragon form, their souls are bound, he heard her calling without a doubt.

the moment he begins to stir, it caused a reaction inside of her:

not only does she call him through their souls, but also through their physical forms when she begins to sing the melody for him.

(extra…: what really gets me is how they highlight the fact that, yes sylus isnt there mentallly, and yet even in his beastly, monstrous form, he doesn’t falter even as the legion attacks him to near death. all he was focused on was getting to her merely because she called. he cared for her more than he cared for himself)

in the end when mc finally comes to terms with the fact that she must die by his hand, sylus’s alternate soul shines through; yielding his physical form to hold back, therefore immediately causing her bloodred greatsword to appear. because the curse WILL be fulfilled one way or another, and sylus doesn’t hesitate to let her take his life.

when he dies in her arms in the datura field, they are themselves once more. the curse has been fulfilled, their souls and physical forms are once more again. and he dies, both- everything disintegrating and leaving, except the petal that mc used to curse him.

the final piece of his soul, just a small fragment that she curses. only she can grant him death, meaning unless she allows it, he will never die, which is why horns and wing sprout from her body.

its quite confusing i can say, but i do enjoy getting creative like this esp when sometimes the myth’s wording was vague/things may get lost in translation! anyway this was just my take, id love to see what u guys think bcs i swear im not the only one who was confused!

[nadvs]

OMG, i’ve never written one of these so im nervous lmao. I wanted to say, I am ABSOLUTELY in love with this basketball!rage stories you have going on right now!

Don’t know if i’m getting to ahead of my self, but I can literally imagine reader and rafe when he gets drafted to the NBA. Or even reader sitting courtside on his NBA games, whether only her or with this kids! Also like imagining rafe winning the NBA finals.

I don’t know if you plan on going that far with this series, but just would absolutely love to read about them more!!!! Your writing is so AMAZING!

hi hi aw thank you sm for reading and messaging!! 🥰

based on this fic

AAA I LOVE IT she’d be supporting him as he waits for draft night and he’d be fooling everyone but her that he’s not nervous. in reality, he’s scared as hell that he’s gonna go undrafted.

but then he’s offered a two-year contract for a team states away and that’s when he knows for sure that he loves her because underneath the excitement he feels, he’s scared the distance will ruin things between them.

they do have troubles and they argue a lot when he moves away because their worlds become so different and he gets so busy and wrapped up in his new life. but he doesn’t let it fuck things up. he flies back to see her every single chance he gets. if he’s not playing or training, he’s finding a way to see her. eventually she regains trust in their relationship and uproots her life to move in with him.

the tabloids eat their love story up. she’d be sitting courtside and the camera’s focused on her pre-game while the commentators are talking about how good his season’s been and how interesting it is that he and his girlfriend are college sweethearts from rival schools.

during his first finals season, he injures his shoulder and he goes into a dark place once he gets told he needs to sit out the season. he takes the time off for rest and physical therapy. she’s there for him every day. he’s stronger and better the next time he gets a chance to go to the end with his team. he wins the championship trophy and after celebrating with his teammates into the early hours of the night, he crawls into their bed and he feels like he has to hold her as she sleeps because he cannot believe that this is his life and touching her makes it feel more real.

the next morning, he’s hungover and she tells him he should’ve hydrated (she’s been nagging him about that since their college days).

he has a reputation for being an angry, aggressive player. he becomes a figure people love to hate. he hardly ever agrees to do interviews he doesn’t have to do, but he gets offered to be part of a docu-series on athletes who had almost career-ending injuries but bounced back and he agrees to do the interview with his girl by his side and people all over social media are obsessed with them and how funny their banter is and how obviously in love they are with each other.

it gets to a point where they can’t go anywhere without being recognized and hounded, so he prioritizes booking quiet, private vacations for them every few months so she doesn’t get overwhelmed by it all. she keeps him grounded. she knew him when he was nobody, just a college ball player who bickered with her all the time.

throughout everything, the nature of their relationship never changes. they joke around a lot, but they give it to each other straight when they need to, and it’s what makes them have a strong, happy life together 🥹

[mxtantrights]

Omg, girl!! Im the one who requested the "enemies" to lovers with Jason Todd one, and GIRL. I loved it. Was better than i was expecting. Please, write part two!( kiss scene? Hehe)Or a whole Bible if you want. Honestly, i only said a "quick" one because i was trying to be polite, didn't want to push or anything lol.

Anyway, thank you for writing my request!!

thank you soo much!! <333 this is a second parter to this post, but it can be read as a stand alone. hope you enjoy it as much as I liked continuing it!!

The kiss happens in two parts. Not to say that you can carefully dissect it into two parts, but that the kiss almost happens once and then it finally does, kind of.

Once when the two of you are on mission. In a slimy dive bar in some redacted location. You've been following your mark all day and ended up here. He's slinging back cheap shots of an off brand liquor as you and Red watch from the roof of the place.

He's been followed all day and hasn't made you once, which is a good thing. Or a bad thing. So you and Red decide to switch it up. There was no need to drag it out any longer. You could confront him and get the info you needed.

That was the plan.

Until the two of you were about to corner your mark. You were waiting on the street and Red was on the other side of it. It was going well until all of a sudden he met up with a familiar face. Falcone. Red pulled off his side of the street quickly and met up with you.

He doesn't say much. He doesn't say anything at all as he takes your arm and drags you around the wall of a store. You have half the mind to question him but you don't. Until he starts taking off the bottom part of his mask.

You try to stop him, but he crowds into your space. He whispers a very clear apology for being too close to you. And then he explains that him being here, would be a dead give away to Falcone. He might blow up whatever plans he has.

Both of you can hear them walking your way. And the only thing you can think of is apologizing to Red before fitting his fcae right into your neck. In the darkness of the night no one can really see his helmet. Or both of your suits.

They walk by without any second thought to the two of you. And you wait about five seconds before telling Red he was okay to pick his head up from your neck.

The drive to he motel was awkward to say the least.

The second time is when you're in the middle of changing in said motel. It's the last night of the mission. You're just about ready to go home to your comfortable bed and front door that has more than one lock.

Red is in a room on this floor. But the two of you haven't run into each other outside of your masks. It's weird. Like weird as in, it probably should have happened by now, but it hasn't. You think to yourself maybe the universe isn't ready to answer that question yet.

With a towel wrapped around your body you're about to start changing into your sleep wear when you hear something odd. A pop coming from outside. Then another one.

You grab your firearm and go over to the door. You look through the peep hole and see nothing. But you know you heard something. So you open the door , just to peek your head out. And at the right time too.

All of a sudden you see a tall man, white streak of hair, coming your way. He's wearing sweatpants and a black muscle tee. Once he makes eye contact with you, he starts running your way. You don't have time to close the door before he's standing in your face begging you to kiss him.

He's out a breath, and he's practically begging at this point. You're not about to kiss a random man. But when you hear the following footsteps you know he is in danger.

So you agree. And this guy apologizes to you in advance as he leans you against your door and cradles the back of your head with his hand. You almost sort of melt into the kiss. Just for a second. only for a second actually.

Because you realize, the way this man just apologized for what he was about to do, is the same way Red apologized to you the other night. And your brain feels like it's on fire because you realize this isn't some random man. This is Red.

This is Red and you know what he looks like. And he definitely knows it you because your'e the same person he saved in the alleyway in Gotham. Coincidences like that don't happen. Especially when you kind of hinted at it with the first word you said to him as a civilian.

🏷️ @12134z03

[starry-bi-sky]

ive been hesitating to ask this bc youve been on a roll with the clone^2au (which i am frothing over) but could i poke you for some childhood friend au? bc GOD i wanna see how danny reacts to reuniting w jason or how the rest of the batfam react to learning jason never told danny of his resurrection or wondering if dannys gonna put jokers dead body on a display/offering to jasons grave. i havent been normal about this since i first read it and was wondering. thank you for your writing.

RAAAAHHHH DON'T BE HESITANT I AM JUST AS FERAL OVER MY CHILDHOOD FRIENDS AU AS I AM WITH CLONE^2 I AM DELIGHTED BY THIS. Like.,,,, i literally love them,,, so much. I can't listen to The Crane Wives without thinking of them.

(which is my fault - the ao3 fic of them has literally only crane wives lyrics for each chapter title and summary (posted AND the ones not written) so of course im gonna associate with them.)

(if you wanna listen to some of their songs while thinking of cfau here are my recommendations: "Once & for All", "Here I Am", "Hollow Moon" is a Danny AND Jason song to me, this would be my go-to song for an animatic of CFAU if i had the skills for it. "Tongues and Teeth", "Curses" and "take me to war" is a heavy cfau danny song to me, and of course, "the moon will sing")

Like they're BEST friends dude, they're two sides of the same coin and when they were kids they would do this thing where their 'fingers crossed'/'double-crossed' was them hooking their index fingers in the fingers crossed gesture.

and i'm actually currently rewriting my original post into a more fic-like format, and when I'm done I'll post it on here under the cfau tag - with the original post still in tact. But its,,, gonna be so long dude,,,, the original behemoth was just over 9000 words,,, and I've written 3k words already of the new one and we haven't even reached Jason and Danny reuniting at the gala yet,,, i need to get back to that,,,

and then to answer your questions!! god im almost hesitant to answer because i dont wanna spoil the little fic i had planned for it but also like,, its not like im gonna spoil everything, right? and answering the questions isnt the same as writing the scene down so!!

i love danny and jason's reuniting, like i've thought about it SO much and I've thought about it happening after Danny kills the Joker. I know the reveal could have been before that, and it could have been equally just as dramatic but like??? Thematically, doing it after danny kills the joker is SO good. To me at least.

Because like?? Jason's been in somewhat denial about danny's plan to kill the joker for months. ever since danny told him that he wanted to at the gala. And from Jason's pov its not even technically a plan. He sees his best friend for the first time after five years and his best friend still isn't over his death. He hasn't stepped foot in Gotham since his funeral and now suddenly he's here.

And he's still so full of grief over his death that he tells a masked vigilante that he's going to kill the guy that did it, who lives in said masked vigilante's city. And danny's got that look in his eyes that Jason knows so well that means he's being serious. And yet he still doesn't know if he should believe him or not.

And then he does. Danny kills him. And Jason can't fucking believe it. And when he goes and sees Danny, Danny's hands are still covered in blood. And that reunion? God like a fucking firework show. Danny's so fucking angry, and pissed, and hurt, and so goddamn overjoyed that he's alive and here that he sends them both to the ground, and if he doesn't calm down he's gonna take out the power in a five block radius.

there's just so, so much yelling on Danny's end. And then so much crying, first from Danny and then them both. because god, you're alive. you're here. i've missed you so much. i'm never letting you out of my sights again.

and Joker's death! God I don't want to actually say too much about that, but the way I have it set up thematically makes me actually not want danny to take any part of the joker with him as an offering. and he may actually forego that particular ghost etiquette and offer something else as an offering to Jason in substitute to not bringing him the Joker's heart/head/ritualistic body part.

Because you know what the last thing a man whose been spending the last two decades of his life building himself up to be larger than life would want? A death that's unremarkable. :) and that's all i'll put on the matter for now.

and the batfam!! they technically already know that jason hasn't told danny he was resurrected, and plenty of them have mixed feelings on them. largely bruce and dick i think, considering they saw firsthand how close jason and danny were when they were kids.

Dick was honestly surprised at first when he found out that Jason hadn't told Danny he was alive - and on one hand he understands the reasoning for it, and on the other hand he isn't sure if it was such a good idea. Especially after he sees Danny again after he arrives back in Gotham and sees just how badly Jason's death was still affecting him. But it's not like he's going to try and convince Jason to tell him - he can make his own choices, even if Dick has questions about them.

Bruce has much the same thoughts as Dick, so there's not really much to add here other than he might bring it up once or twice to Jason like, vaguely. And then immediately drops it when Jason shuts him down. He might actually somewhat...?? prefer that Jason hasn't told Danny because that raises a lot of questions and could jeopardize their identities. However, again, Jason can make his own choices and there's not much Bruce can do about it other than disapprove from afar.

Tim who knew of Danny from stalking the Wayne family shares similars sentiments of being surprised that Jason didn't tell Danny, but again, yeah, understands the thought process to some extent. Doesn't bring it up ever.

Everyone else who hadn't seen firsthand how close Danny and Jason are don't really have much opinion on it -- Jason didn't tell his best friend he was alive, great, he also didn't tell them either so it's not like its that much of a surprise. It would've been more of a surprise to them if Jason had told Danny before he told Bruce and co. Damian may make a comment or two about Jason not telling Danny, but its not about how he can't believe he didn't tell him or anything like it.

[cod-thoughts]

Day 31 of 31 days of COD

Word count: 12.8k

Relationships: team as family, Ghost & Price, GhostPrice

Tags: Angst with a happy ending, protective Price, hurt/comfort, near-death experience, could be read as platonic or romantic with GhostPrice

It happened in an instant, yet time seemed to stretch as the floor crumbled beneath him. The feeling of free fall—a sensation Price had never liked—gripped his gut, the abyss below swallowing him as the air rushed past, his body weightless for a breathless second. Price fell, the floor collapsing in a cascade of rubble and dust. It felt like an eternity, a slow-motion nightmare as he plummeted downwards, the chaos around him blurring. OR Price gets buried, the team freak out, find him, and wonder why the fuck Price was asking about Ghost the whole time he was under? Finaleeeee!!! Going from having three fics on ao3 to this many is uhhh strange but here we are lol. Im excited to write some other longer stuff that i can dedicate my time to and also GhostPrice week in december!! Super excited about that :DD Thanks for joining me on this personal challenge ive wanted to do for a while!! Keep reading under the cut or on AO3

The briefing room was quiet, save for the low hum of the projector and the faint rustle of papers as Captain Price made his final preparations. He stood at the head of the room, his back straight, his hands moving over maps and documents, the map projected on the wall behind him casting a faint glow across his weathered features. His eyes were sharp, focused as they scanned the intel once more, taking in every detail with the kind of intensity that only came from years of experience.

There was a gravity to his posture, an almost ritualistic stillness that had settled over him as he reviewed the mission plan. It wasn’t nervousness; it was something much deeper—the kind of presence that came from leading men into countless dangers and needing to be sure that every piece was in place before the storm began. This mission was different. The intel they were after could be a turning point—the kind of data that might expose insurgent movements, their supply chains, maybe even their leadership. If they could get it, it might be the tipping point they’d been waiting for, but it had to be clean. They had to get in, get out, without leaving a trace.

The stakes hung in the air like a weight, palpable and heavy. Price knew the team trusted him, but he also knew the enormity of this mission. This wasn’t just about intel—this was about gaining a foothold, about ensuring the safety of those who relied on them. It had to be done right, and there was no room for anything less.

Price rubbed a thumb along his jawline, the familiar scratch of stubble grounding him for a second. The door opened with barely a sound, and Ghost was the first to enter, slipping inside like a shadow. His movements were always calculated, deliberate—never a sound more than necessary, each step almost inaudible against the floor. He scanned the room with a practiced sweep, eyes moving from the exits to the corners, taking in everything.

His gaze finally settled on Price, and for a split second, something shifted behind the mask—something familiar, unspoken. He gave a nod, the movement brief but heavy with meaning. It was his way of saying that he was ready, that he was here for whatever Price had in mind. There was a connection between them, one forged over years, through firefights, sleepless nights, and the kind of pain neither of them ever talked about. Price met his eyes for a moment, nodding back. There was no need for words.

Ghost crossed the room, settling into his usual spot, his back straight, posture poised. Price allowed his gaze to linger on Ghost a moment longer, something tightening briefly in his chest. Ghost always had that intensity—that focus that was almost unsettling if you weren't used to it. But Price knew better. He knew what that focus hid, the fractures beneath the surface that Ghost never let anyone see. A moment passed, and Price turned back to the map, forcing his attention onto the routes and diagrams. He needed to focus. He needed to be clearheaded.

The door opened again, and this time it was Soap. His entrance was louder, more casual—an almost exaggerated swagger that contrasted sharply with Ghost’s silent glide. He stepped in, his eyes catching the dim glow of the projector as he let out a low whistle.

“Got us a nice holiday planned, Captain?” Soap said, his voice carrying a hint of sarcasm as he dropped into the chair next to Ghost. He leaned back, one ankle resting on his knee, his body language all nonchalance despite the seriousness of what was ahead. He glanced at Ghost, nudging him lightly with his elbow, but Ghost didn’t so much as blink. He was already looking at the map, his eyes scanning the points marked in red.

Price shot Soap a look, one that was half-exasperation, half-amusement. “Aye, MacTavish. Just the kind of holiday where you might lose your head if you don’t keep it screwed on straight.” There was an edge to Price’s voice, but the corner of his mouth twitched, hinting at a smile.

Soap let out a chuckle, shrugging. “Nothing new there, Cap.” He glanced at Ghost again, clearly hoping for a reaction, but Ghost remained impassive, his eyes fixed forward. It was like Soap’s energy just bounced right off him, but that never stopped the Sergeant from trying. He’d been trying to get Ghost to crack for years, and Price was starting to think it had become a personal mission for Soap.

Moments later, Gaz stepped in, the last to arrive, a clipboard in his hand. His expression was all business, his eyes skimming the notes in front of him, brow furrowed in concentration. He paused at the threshold, offering Price a quick nod before sliding into the chair next to Soap, his eyes still on the paper. He cast Soap a brief glance, raising an eyebrow at the way Soap lounged back in his chair.

“Is this a briefing or a comedy show?” Gaz murmured, just loud enough for Soap to hear. He adjusted the collar of his shirt, his posture much more rigid, a reflection of his own meticulous nature.

Soap grinned, giving Gaz a sideways glance. “Bit of both, mate. Keeps things interesting, doesn’t it?” But even as he spoke, there was a flicker in his eyes—a seriousness that told Gaz he was ready, that they all knew what was at stake.

Price cleared his throat, drawing the room’s attention. “Settle down, lads,” he said, his tone lighter now but holding an unmistakable edge. He glanced at the group, his eyes lingering on each of them for a beat longer than usual. Ghost, unreadable behind his mask; Soap, with his easy grin but eyes that betrayed focus; Gaz, steady, composed, his gaze sharp. Price took it all in before turning towards the map, tapping it with his finger. “Right, listen up.”

The projector flickered slightly, illuminating the outline of an abandoned outpost—their target. The building was half-buried under desert sand, marked with annotations and lines indicating points of interest and likely routes. Price’s voice shifted, taking on that authoritative edge, each word carefully placed as he began the debrief.

“This is our target,” Price began, pointing to the main structure, the wall behind him glowing in the dim room. “Old outpost repurposed by insurgents. We’re going in to gather intel, get out, and hopefully leave without a trace. Ghost, you’re on point. Soap, Gaz, you’ll secure the data once we’re in. I’ll manage comms and fallback. We move in quiet, and if all goes to plan, they’ll never know we were even there.”

His eyes flicked to Ghost, a moment of eye contact passing between them—something unspoken, something weighted. It was more than orders; it was a reminder of everything Ghost had done before, everything he’d survived. And it was also a reassurance—Price trusted him, maybe more than anyone. Ghost gave a slight nod, his eyes narrowing in a way that spoke volumes about his readiness, about his commitment to the task ahead.

“This isn’t just any outpost,” Price continued. “We have intel that suggests the insurgents are using this location to coordinate attacks, and there’s a good chance they have operational plans stored in their comms room. We need that data. If we can get our hands on it, we’ll have a significant upper hand.” His tone left no room for doubt.

The silence that followed Price's words was thick with understanding—every man in the room felt the weight of what was ahead. This wasn’t just about the mission; it was about the lives they could save, the difference they could make.

Soap leaned further back in his chair, a grin playing on his lips. “Think they’ll have a welcoming committee for us, Captain?” he asked, his voice carrying a teasing lilt that cut through the tension for a moment.

Price gave him a flat look. “If they do, Sergeant, we’ll politely decline the invitation.” There was a flicker of a smile, barely there but enough to hint at the camaraderie they shared. “Now focus.”

Gaz spoke up next, his tone thoughtful, his brows furrowing slightly. “What about patrols? They’ve been more coordinated lately.”

“Aye, they’ve learned a few tricks,” Price acknowledged, nodding. “We’ll avoid contact if we can. But if it comes to it, remember—this isn’t about engagement. It’s about getting the intel and getting out clean.” He looked at each of them in turn, his gaze settling a moment longer on Ghost. “We split if things go sideways and regroup at the extraction point. You all know the drill.”

There was a collective nod from the team—a shared understanding that ran deeper than just the words spoken. They’d been through too much together not to know the stakes, not to understand the risks.

Soap leaned forward slightly, his grin fading into something more serious, a flicker of that intensity beneath the surface. “We get it done, then? Pint afterwards, Captain?” There was a lightness in his tone, but his eyes held a sharp focus that betrayed his readiness.

Price gave a small nod, his eyes glinting with resolve. “We’ll get it done, Sergeant. You lot just make sure to stick to your roles, and we’ll be back before you know it.” He paused, letting the words sink in. His eyes shifted to Ghost for a moment, and there was something there—something softer, almost protective. It was fleeting, but Ghost caught it, the look that said Price knew exactly who he was trusting with his life. Price turned back to the map, exhaling slowly. “We don’t take risks unless we need to. Dismissed. We gear up and leave in thirty.”

The men rose, their movements fluid, each one operating with a practiced ease. Ghost stood first, nodding once more to Price before he walked out, that same silent assurance there. Soap followed, giving Price a wink before nudging Gaz on his way out. “Hope you’ve packed your suntan lotion, mate. Gonna be a hot one.”

Gaz rolled his eyes, but there was the ghost of a smile on his face. “Just focus on not blowing something up you shouldn’t, Soap.”

Price watched them leave; the door swinging shut behind them, and allowed himself a moment of stillness. He looked back at the map, the glow dimming now that the projector had clicked off. He stood there for a beat longer, feeling the familiar weight settle on his shoulders—the responsibility, the uncertainty. He drew in a breath, then let it out slowly. Whatever this mission brought, he knew he had the right people by his side. He trusted them with his life. And that was enough.

Price gathered his papers, folding up the map, his movements deliberate, almost slow. There was no rush, not yet. The quiet hum of the room wrapped around him, and for a fleeting second, there was a sense of calm—a moment alone with his thoughts. Ghost’s nod replayed in his mind, the way his eyes had seemed to linger, something unsaid hanging in the air between them. Price frowned, shaking his head slightly as he brushed the thought aside. There was no time to dwell on it. He needed to focus—to stay sharp.

---

The gear room was a controlled chaos of movement, the air heavy with the faint metallic tang of gun oil and the muffled sounds of equipment being checked and rechecked. Price entered behind the rest of his team, his eyes scanning the room as they fell into their pre-mission rhythm. Each man had his own way of preparing, and Price allowed himself to observe them, taking in the reassuring sight of his men getting ready.

Ghost stood off to the side, meticulously checking his weapon. His fingers moved with mechanical precision, ensuring each part fit perfectly, his gloves never faltering. There was something almost ritualistic about the way Ghost worked—a need to have control, to make sure everything was in its place. Price knew that this was Ghost's way of pushing down whatever emotions might be stirring beneath the surface. The mask, the armour, the rituals—they were his defences. And Price understood that better than anyone.

Price found himself watching Ghost longer than intended, recognising the weight of those small gestures, the meticulous need to check, and then check again. It wasn't just preparation. It was a means to settle something internal—a need to keep his thoughts in line, to keep old fears from surfacing. Ghost’s ritual was as much about mental fortitude as it was about operational necessity.

Soap, on the other hand, worked with a kind of casual efficiency that belied the gravity of their task. He was loading rounds into a magazine, muttering something under his breath about the "bloody desert heat," shaking his head as he gave a slight grin. There was an energy to him that Price appreciated, even if Soap’s humour sometimes edged into the inappropriate. Price knew it was his way of coping, keeping the fear and tension at bay.

“Ready for the vacation of a lifetime, Gaz?” Soap called across the room, his tone light, though there was a seriousness to the way he eyed his gear.

Gaz looked up from where he was securing his tactical vest, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Aye, just trying to decide if I need sunscreen or a flak jacket. You reckon the insurgents are the welcoming type?” He shook his head, his expression sobering as he continued, “Just hope the intel’s worth all this.”

Price caught that hint of doubt in Gaz’s tone, and he understood it all too well. These operations were never without risk—always the careful balance of the value of what they could gain against what it might cost them. Price moved towards them, giving Gaz a reassuring pat on the shoulder. He wanted to make sure his team knew, not just logically but in their bones, that this was the right move.

Price moved towards them, giving Gaz a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “It’s worth it, Sergeant. Trust me on that.” He met Gaz's eyes, his voice carrying that confidence that only Price could muster. It wasn’t just words—it was a promise, the kind that came from years of leading men into the unknown and bringing them back.

Gaz nodded, his eyes meeting Price's for a beat longer before returning to his task, his shoulders a bit more relaxed now. Price stepped away, moving towards his own gear, his gaze drifting to Ghost again. The Lieutenant had finished with his rifle and was now adjusting his vest, his movements still deliberate, each buckle fastened with care.

“Ghost,” Price called quietly, moving closer. Ghost glanced up, his eyes meeting Price’s through the slits of his mask, something unreadable there. There was always a barrier between them, a mask that went beyond the physical one Ghost wore. Price knew it was a shield, a means to keep people from getting too close—to keep him safe in ways that had nothing to do with bullets or shrapnel. “You good?”

Ghost’s nod was almost imperceptible. “Good, Captain,” he replied, his voice low, steady. There was a pause, a brief flicker of something in his gaze—a question, a concern that Ghost wasn’t willing to voice. Price didn’t press. He just nodded back, his eyes lingering on Ghost for a moment longer before moving on. He wondered sometimes if Ghost knew just how much Price saw—how much Price understood without needing the words. Maybe Ghost did know, but that didn’t mean he’d ever acknowledge it. “Alright, lads,” Price called out, his voice carrying across the room, “ten minutes. Let’s get ready to move.”

The air shifted, the sense of finality settling in. Each man tightened their gear, their faces hardening, the joking gone, replaced by the sharp focus of soldiers about to step into the unknown. Price watched them, his heart heavy with the weight of what was coming, but also with something else—pride. He knew what each of them was capable of. He knew their strengths, their weaknesses, the way they covered for each other.

For all the risks and all the fear, this was where Price felt at home—surrounded by his men, knowing that together they were capable of the impossible. There was a calm in this ritual, a steadiness that came from the rhythm of preparation, from the unspoken promise between each of them that they would have each other’s backs. That they would make it through.

---

Ghost moved to the door first, giving a brief nod to Price as he passed. There was something in the nod—something more than just acknowledgment. Price couldn’t quite put a name to it, but it was there, a kind of silent promise, an unspoken assurance that whatever happened out there, they’d get through it. Together.

As the men filed out, Price took one last look around the gear room, the empty racks and scattered crates a stark reminder of what lay ahead. He adjusted the brim of his hat, the familiar gesture grounding him before he followed his team out. The clock was ticking, and they had a mission to complete.

The helicopter's descent into the desert was almost seamless, the blades chopping through the still night air, stirring up dust in swirling, glowing eddies beneath the bright moon. The whirr of the rotors faded as the chopper dropped the team about a mile away from the outpost, ensuring they’d approach on foot to minimize noise and detection. The darkness stretched out around them, the cold desert a stark contrast to the blistering heat of the day. It was the kind of cold that settled deep into the bones, unyielding, despite the residual warmth beneath their feet.

Price knelt as they landed, the crunch of sand muffled beneath his knees. He scanned the area, feeling the night settle in around them—heavy, silent, and patient. The whir of the helicopter's blades slowly faded into the distance, leaving behind an eerie quiet, one that wrapped around them like a thick blanket. The only sounds now were the crunch of sand beneath boots and the soft rustle of their gear.

The desert seemed almost timeless, an endless expanse of shadow and stillness, as if the world had paused just for them. Price let his gaze travel the horizon, seeing nothing but the wavering line where the dunes met the sky. There was a sense of isolation here—of being on the edge of something vast and unknowable, and for a moment, Price allowed himself to feel the weight of it. Out here, nothing else mattered—just the mission, just the men beside him.

Ghost took point, moving with precision, his silhouette merging into the shadows. Price watched him, a sense of calm mixed with something else settling in his chest. Ghost moved like a predator—a dangerous presence, and yet, somehow, reassuring. He could feel the eyes of the others on him, but Price’s own attention remained on Ghost, as if drawing strength from the silent figure leading them forward.

Ghost gave a signal, a sharp movement with his hand, indicating they advance. Price followed, Soap and Gaz falling into their staggered formation, each footstep calculated. They made their way through the dunes, the landscape broken only by the dark silhouette of the outpost ahead, barely visible against the backdrop of the starry sky. It was like they were moving towards some ancient, long-forgotten beast, half-buried in sand, its secrets hidden within.

Price allowed his thoughts to drift briefly, but not far; the weight of this mission settled on his shoulders, and his gaze never strayed from the target ahead. They’d planned this meticulously, but Price knew better than to trust plans alone. He knew that plans were just a foundation, a starting point. Once they stepped into the unknown, it would be instinct and trust in one another that carried them through. Anything could happen once they breached those crumbling walls. He trusted his team implicitly—Soap, who could shoot his way out of any mess and still have a joke on his lips; Gaz, steady and composed, never missing a beat; and Ghost, who bore his pain and carried everyone else’s too, though he'd never admit it.

Price caught a glimpse of Ghost’s face from the side, the moonlight casting a faint silver outline on the edges of his mask. Price knew what Ghost was—knew the trauma that lay beneath the skull and the armour, knew the sharp edges and deep fractures that no one else dared to see. And despite that, or maybe because of it, Price trusted Ghost with his life. The darkness Ghost carried made him who he was, made him relentless and fierce, but it was also what made him loyal. Ghost’s loyalty was a rare thing—fragile and powerful, something Price valued more than anything.

As they advanced, there was a moment—one so subtle that even Price almost missed it—when Ghost’s head turned slightly, and he glanced back at Price. It was quick, and from anyone else, it might have seemed like just a check, a leader making sure his captain was behind him. But Price knew Ghost. There was something there, beneath the surface of that cold gaze—a question, perhaps an unspoken promise. Price’s breath caught for a beat longer than it should have.

He offered a nod, a gesture that he hoped would reassure Ghost. The reply was wordless, but it lingered—Price's nod paired with the tiniest inclination from Ghost before his head turned back to the front. Ghost's shoulders seemed to relax, just a fraction. Price had the sudden, absurd urge to say something, to bridge the gulf of silence between them, to reassure Ghost more openly. He knew the silence between them was as much a choice as it was a necessity—words could break something that they both held fragile. But still, there was an ache in Price’s chest—a need to let Ghost know that, despite everything, Price saw him, truly saw him. But now wasn't the time. It was never the time. Instead, Price kept his focus forward, letting the moment dissipate into the night air.

They were almost at the outpost now, each step bringing them closer to the high crumbling walls that loomed above. Price could feel the grit of sand against his skin, the weight of the equipment pressing into his shoulders. A deep calm settled over him, mixing with that ever-present readiness. The weight of what they were walking into was heavy, but it wasn’t unfamiliar. This kind of anticipation, the moments just before stepping into danger, always felt like a paradox—fear and purpose blending together, the tension laced with something almost like peace. It was the awareness that this was where he belonged, in the quiet before the storm, alongside his men.

The outer perimeter of the outpost came into view—a rusted fence with barbed wire, leaning awkwardly from years of neglect. Ghost reached it first, pressing himself against a section of wall where the shadows pooled, his body disappearing into the darkness. Soap and Gaz moved to positions on either side, keeping watch, eyes scanning for any sign of movement.

Price approached next, crouching down beside Ghost, their shoulders almost touching. He could feel the cold radiating from the stone wall, could hear Ghost’s breathing, steady and controlled. The proximity brought a sense of familiarity—a grounding presence amidst the unknown. For all the layers of armour and distance Ghost wrapped himself in, here, when it mattered, he was always within reach. Price let that realization settle in his chest—a kind of unspoken reassurance that kept the anxiety at bay. There was a sense of urgency, but also something else, something less tangible—an intimacy that came from being this close, from trusting someone with not just your life, but the lives of everyone you cared about.

Price shifted slightly, his arm brushing against Ghost’s, and for a second, the weight of the mission seemed to blur, the reality of what they were about to do overlapping with something deeper, something personal. The brush of fabric was such a small thing, and yet Price felt its significance—a moment of contact in a world where physicality often meant vulnerability. Ghost didn’t flinch, didn’t move away, and somehow that made all the difference. He saw Ghost turn his head slightly towards him, the hollow eyes of the mask reflecting the faint light from the moon. Price didn’t move away. He didn’t speak. Instead, he held the gaze, let it linger in the silence, unbroken.

He wanted to say something, anything—to tell Ghost that they’d get through this, that he trusted him, that he understood. But instead, he gave another nod, the same one he'd given earlier—subtle, almost imperceptible. And Ghost responded in kind, turning back towards the structure, signalling Soap and Gaz.

“Stay sharp, lads,” Price whispered, breaking the quiet. His voice was low, steady—betraying none of the conflicting emotions that twisted in his chest. Ghost didn’t look back, but Price could sense the effect his voice had—Ghost's back straightened, the hesitation melting into determination.

Ghost slipped through the gap in the fence first, his body moving like liquid into the darkness beyond, blending into the shadows. Watching Ghost move, there was a quiet kind of power—an artistry in the way he seemed to merge with the environment, becoming part of the night itself. It was something that Price trusted implicitly, even if he couldn’t ever fully understand it.

Price followed, with Soap and Gaz behind them. Inside the perimeter, the outpost felt almost surreal—the air thick with the scent of rust and decay, the crumbling concrete walls stained and scarred. Ghost moved like a phantom, his weapon raised, every movement controlled, and Price found himself watching the subtle way Ghost shifted his weight, the way he paused just long enough to listen before signalling the others.

They entered through a narrow breach in the wall, the darkness of the building swallowing them whole. Price could feel the chill now, a biting cold that clung to the air inside the old outpost, made worse by the staleness. There were old machines, rusting in corners, wires hanging loose from the ceiling. They moved as one—Soap and Gaz scanning the flanks, Ghost at the front, his focus unyielding.

For a moment, Price’s gaze fell on Ghost, watching as he paused near a doorway, his body rigid as he listened for any hint of movement. The lines of Ghost’s silhouette were tense, every muscle coiled, and Price knew that look—it was Ghost at his most alert, at his most dangerous. It was in those moments that Price saw just how much Ghost held in, how much focus and control he needed to keep the chaos in check. There was something calming about watching Ghost work—something precise, practiced, something safe. It struck Price then—how often he looked to Ghost for that sense of stability, how easily he leaned on him in these moments.

Soap leaned in close to Price, his whisper barely audible. “You all right, Cap?” The question was loaded, half a joke, but with an edge that showed Soap wasn’t entirely joking. Price gave a nod, his eyes shifting away from Ghost to meet Soap’s gaze.

“Aye, Sergeant. Just keep your head on straight.” The words were automatic, but there was a hint of warmth in Price’s tone—a reassurance that, perhaps, was as much for himself as it was for Soap. The corners of Price’s mouth twitched slightly, as if to add weight to the reassurance. Soap had always been the one to lighten the mood, to inject energy where the darkness seemed to linger too long. And Price knew Soap was watching him, not just as a subordinate, but as a brother—making sure that Price was steady, that he was ready.

Soap gave a small nod, his own grin returning, if only briefly, before they both turned their focus back to the task at hand. It was moments like these, fleeting and almost invisible in the grand scheme, that bound them together—those small gestures that said, ‘I’m here, and I see you.’

They pressed further into the outpost, deeper into its labyrinthine halls. The air grew colder, thicker with dust, and the sense of anticipation grew with each step. Ghost held up a fist, and the team halted, each man going still. Price could hear the faintest noise—a metallic clang, echoing down the corridors. His eyes flicked to Ghost, who had turned his head just enough to catch Price’s eye. Again, there was that silent exchange—a question, a moment of uncertainty that passed between them.

“Hold position,” Price whispered. He moved forward slightly, his shoulder brushing against Ghost’s. It was fleeting, but it was enough—enough for Ghost to know Price was right there, that whatever came next, they were in it together. That fleeting contact, small as it was, had a weight of its own. Ghost didn’t acknowledge it openly—he never would. But Price knew that it mattered. In the silence, in the darkness, in the moments between life and death, those touches were enough to keep the fear from swallowing them whole.

Ghost gave a short nod, his gaze shifting back to the dark corridor ahead, his weapon raised. The movement was careful, deliberate—he was ready, and Price could see the way Ghost seemed to draw energy from their proximity, the way he set his shoulders, the determination in his stance.

After a moment, Ghost signalled that the corridor ahead was clear, and they moved in further, finally reaching the door to the comms room. Gaz slipped past, pushing the door open just enough to slide through, followed by Soap, who moved to cover the entrance while Gaz worked. Price and Ghost stood just outside, their eyes scanning the dark hallway.

Price took in a breath, the air musty with the scent of age and disuse. He turned his head, his eyes catching on Ghost, who was standing just a step ahead, his focus unwavering. Price could see the tension in Ghost’s form, the slight rigidness of his posture, the way his shoulders seemed to hold the weight of a thousand past missions. Ghost’s eyes were locked forward, but Price knew—he knew what this kind of silence did to Ghost, the memories it brought to the surface, the battles that Ghost fought within himself. Price found himself watching the rise and fall of Ghost's shoulders, the way he seemed to hold himself so tightly—every muscle coiled, every breath controlled.

“Ghost,” Price murmured, his voice low enough that only Ghost would hear. Ghost’s head tilted slightly in acknowledgment, his eyes never leaving the hallway, but Price could tell he was listening. There were so many things Price could say—so many reassurances, so many reminders that they had each other, that they weren’t alone. But those words always felt too big, too loaded, when faced with the silence of an empty corridor. Instead, Price just moved a step closer, his presence a silent promise. Price wanted to say something reassuring, something about how they had this under control. But the words caught in his throat. Instead, he simply stayed close—letting his presence speak where words could not.

The silence hung between them, filled with tension and something else—something unnamed, something they both seemed to understand without ever needing to say it out loud. It was a bond, an understanding that ran deeper than orders, deeper than ranks. And it made all the difference in that dark, uncertain hallway.

The air inside the outpost felt heavier as Gaz worked the terminal, his fingers dancing across the worn keys, a faint clicking echoing in the dark room. Soap kept watch, his stance relaxed but ready, eyes darting around, scanning every corner of the dimly lit space. Price remained near the door, every muscle in his body coiled, his ears tuned to the silence that enveloped them. Next to him, Ghost was unmoving, a pillar in the dim, dusty corridor.

Suddenly, a sound shattered the quiet—a sharp metallic clang, echoing from somewhere deeper within the building, far off but loud enough to make them all freeze. It wasn't the wind. It wasn't the outpost settling. It was movement, unmistakable, a sign of someone or something where it shouldn't be.

Price’s heart skipped a beat, his senses heightening, the tension snapping back into place. He turned towards Ghost, and there it was again—that moment of connection, the silent question passing between them. Ghost’s gaze shifted to meet Price’s, the eyes behind the mask narrowed slightly.

Price spoke quietly, just a whisper. “Hold position.”

He moved closer to Ghost, pressing his shoulder lightly against Ghost's for just a moment—a fleeting contact, but enough to remind them both they were in this together, side by side. Ghost gave an almost imperceptible nod. It was a reassurance, a tether in the darkness that bound them to each other, a way to say, “I’ve got your back”—without the need for words. It was how they’d always operated, their own language carved out of moments like this. Price could feel the air shift, Ghost's breathing quickening just slightly before steadying, their silent understanding unbroken. Ghost gave a short nod before his focus returned to the corridor.

Ghost motioned to Soap, signalling him to take up a defensive stance while Gaz finished extracting the intel. Soap's usual cocky demeanour was subdued now, the smirk replaced with a firm line as he crouched beside the doorway, his weapon raised. In the low light, Price could see Soap's jaw clench, his eyes darting over the shadows with an intensity that betrayed just how much he cared—how much this mattered. Despite Soap’s easy-going exterior, his heart was always in this, and Price never questioned his loyalty. Soap was like a brother who covered his worries with humour, but right now, he was all focus and steel.

The moments stretched out, each second heavy as Gaz kept working, the quiet tension settling in around them like a vice. Price could hear the slight tapping as Gaz typed, the soft breaths from Soap just behind him, and the barely audible shift of Ghost’s weight as he scanned the hallway. The echoes of the metallic clang hung in the air, warning them all of the approaching danger.

Finally, Gaz spoke, his voice low, words clipped. “Almost got it, Captain.” His eyes darted to Price, and there was a certainty there, despite the underlying urgency. He wasn’t panicking. He wasn’t rushing. He knew what was at stake, and he was doing his job.

Price gave a nod, not breaking eye contact with Ghost as he shifted to cover Gaz’s flank. He could sense that Ghost’s focus was locked—completely absorbed yet attuned to Price's movements. The way Ghost moved, the way his presence never wavered, felt like an anchor—Price knew that if everything went to hell, Ghost would be there, an unmovable force that wouldn't stop until they were all safe.

A rustle. Footsteps. They were drawing closer—multiple individuals, based on the rhythm, the overlap of movement. Price's heart sank. Their presence wasn't undetected anymore; the outpost had been disturbed, and now they were going to have company.

“Wrap it up, Sergeant,” Price whispered sharply, his voice just loud enough for Gaz to catch. There wasn’t time left—whatever data they could gather in the next few moments would have to be enough. Ghost caught Price’s eye, the barely perceptible tension there, an unspoken acknowledgment that time was running short.

Soap's voice crackled through the comms, his tone sharp and barely hiding the nerves. “Cap, we’ve got incoming. You can hear them moving, yeah?”

Price nodded, although Soap couldn’t see it, and glanced at Ghost. Ghost had already turned his head towards the hallway entrance, every line of his body tense, his hand tightening around his weapon. There was something almost predatory about him—focused, deliberate, and so unyielding that Price felt a mix of awe and reassurance.

“Soap, Gaz—fall back towards the rear entry,” Price ordered, his voice even but laced with urgency. He turned his head slightly to Ghost. “You take them, Ghost. Get them out. I’ll hold them off.”

Ghost’s head snapped towards him, a flash of emotion crossing his eyes behind the mask. Price could see the protest there, could feel it almost radiate off Ghost, but there was no time. “Move, Lieutenant. That’s an order,” Price said, his voice low but unyielding.

Ghost hesitated, his body rigid. Then, after a moment, he nodded, a tight, almost painful motion. “Copy that.” He turned sharply, gripping Gaz’s arm and pulling him towards the exit. Soap followed, but not before giving Price one last look—a mix of fear and trust.

Price watched them go, the weight of the decision settling on his chest. It was the hardest part of leadership—sending them away when every fibre in his being wanted to stay together, to protect them himself. He turned back towards the direction of the approaching voices, his rifle raised. He could hear the footsteps getting louder, the clatter of equipment as the enemy drew nearer. He moved into position, ready to draw their attention, ready to give his team the time they needed.

But just as he steadied himself, there was a sudden, deafening explosion—a blast that reverberated through the narrow corridor, shaking the very foundation of the outpost. The force threw Price off his feet, the world spinning as he was tossed against the wall. He felt the impact—sharp, jarring—as his shoulder slammed into the concrete, a lightning bolt of pain shooting through his body. The wind was knocked out of him, and his head snapped back, leaving him disoriented. Then the ground gave way beneath him.

It happened in an instant, yet time seemed to stretch as the floor crumbled beneath him. The feeling of free fall—a sensation Price had never liked—gripped his gut, the abyss below swallowing him as the air rushed past, his body weightless for a breathless second. Price fell, the floor collapsing in a cascade of rubble and dust. It felt like an eternity, a slow-motion nightmare as he plummeted downwards, the chaos around him blurring. He hit the bottom hard, his body battered by chunks of concrete and metal, the sharp edges digging into his back and sides. The impact drove what little breath he had left from his lungs, leaving him gasping in the dark.

There was no sense of direction, no up or down—only weight, pressing in from every side, suffocating, relentless. The darkness swallowed him whole, the weight of the debris pressing down like a vice, the air knocked from his lungs and refusing to return. He tried to move, to shift the heavy slabs pinning his legs and torso, but his limbs were trapped, his head spinning, his ears ringing from the blast.

The world was a heavy, suffocating blackness. Price's chest ached as he struggled to draw in even a sliver of air, the pressure of the rubble constricting his ribs until every shallow breath felt like fire. His lungs burned, each attempt to breathe feeling like inhaling shards of glass, the dust clinging to his throat, making it hard to swallow, hard to think. He blinked against the dark, his vision struggling to adjust, but there was nothing to see—just the void, the grit in his eyes, and the crushing silence that wrapped around him like a shroud.

Pain radiated from his side where something heavy had landed, the pressure relentless, digging into his ribs, and he could feel something wet—blood, trickling slowly, sticky and hot against his skin. His body was pinned, constrained by the debris, his muscles screaming with each tiny movement, and he could feel the raw edges of metal and concrete cutting into his skin, every breath a painful reminder of just how bad this was. His legs were twisted beneath him, one of his ankles trapped at an awkward angle that sent waves of agony up his leg with every slight shift.

He was aware of the silence in a way that felt all-consuming, as if even sound had abandoned him. The voices of his team, the comforting rhythm of their breathing, the sound of their steps—all of it was gone, leaving him with nothing but the raw, unforgiving emptiness. His instinct was to move, to fight, but he knew better. Panic was the worst enemy now—not the insurgents above, not the darkness that seemed to press in from all sides, but the panic that clawed at the edges of his mind, threatening to unravel what little control he had left. He had to keep his breathing steady—slow, deliberate inhales to conserve what little air there was. Each breath was shallow, his ribs protesting, but he forced it—forced himself to inhale through the dust clogging his throat, forced himself to hold on to the rhythm.

He focused on what was real—on the ache of his ribs, the throb in his head, the rough scrape of the debris against his skin. Those sensations, painful as they were, were proof that he was still here. Proof that he could keep fighting. He closed his eyes, focusing on the one thing he could control: his thoughts. He needed to stay calm, needed to keep his mind clear. If he panicked now, he was done. The weight on his chest would crush him, the lack of air would strangle him. He fought to push away the pain, to push away the fear.

Calm down, John. Keep your head. He repeated it to himself, each word a lifeline, something to hold on to, his voice barely more than a rasp in the confined darkness. He could feel the roughness of the earth against his fingertips as he shifted his hands slightly, trying to gauge the space around him. His left arm was free enough to move, though every motion sent fresh spikes of pain shooting through his shoulder, but his right arm was pinned beneath a heavy slab of concrete. He clenched his left fist, felt the grit of the dirt in his palm—grounding himself in the physical sensation, using it to ward off the rising sense of suffocation, to keep himself from slipping into the abyss of panic.

---

Ghost, Soap, and Gaz were further down the corridor when the explosion tore through the outpost. The sound was deafening, a bone-shaking roar that sent them all reeling, the shockwave ripping through their bodies. Dust and debris filled the air, and for a moment, there was nothing but chaos—the world reduced to a blur of sound and movement, the concrete shuddering beneath them as if the earth itself had shifted.

Soap hit the ground, instinctively rolling to his side, his heart pounding in his ears. The noise of the blast was disorienting, a throbbing pulse that seemed to echo through his entire body. Gaz braced himself against the wall, his face twisted in shock. Ghost, the furthest forward, staggered but managed to stay upright, his eyes wide beneath his mask. The ringing in his ears was almost unbearable, a high-pitched wail that drowned out everything else. He blinked, his eyes stinging with the swirling dust, and tried to get his bearings.

“Price!” Soap’s voice cracked through the haze, panicked and raw, as he pulled himself to his feet. He stumbled forward, his eyes desperately searching through the cloud of debris that now filled the corridor. “Bloody hell—Price!”

Gaz was already moving, his face ashen beneath the grime, his hand on his comms as he tried to cut through the static. “Price, it’s Gaz—come in. Say something.” His voice wavered, the fear slipping through despite his best effort to keep it steady. It felt as though the air had thickened around them, the dust clouding not just their vision but their hope, making everything harder—every movement, every word.

But it was Ghost who seemed the most affected. For a moment, he stood frozen, staring at the place where Price had been only seconds before. The ground where his captain had stood was now a churning mass of shattered concrete and twisted steel—a void where Price had once been, a space that seemed to echo with his absence. The corridor had collapsed, a chaotic mass of twisted metal, concrete, and dust. It felt as though the world had swallowed Price whole, and with him, something in Ghost's chest seemed to collapse too. A cold, visceral dread gripped him, dragging him back to memories he'd long buried—memories of darkness, suffocation, betrayal. Memories that twisted with the present and turned his fear into something almost paralyzing.

But this wasn’t him. It wasn’t him in the dark this time—it was Price. The man who had pulled him back from the brink time and time again, who had been there through every nightmare, every moment when the world seemed to close in on him. Price—the one who had somehow always known what Ghost needed before even he did, the one who had never flinched at the fractures Ghost had tried to hide. The man who had given him a reason to keep going when everything else had fallen apart. Price was somewhere beneath all of that—alone, suffocating.

“Price…” The word slipped out, unbidden, a whisper lost in the chaos around them. Ghost clenched his jaw, forced the thoughts down, forced himself to move. He couldn’t afford to freeze. Not now. Not for Price.

He dropped to his knees beside Soap and Gaz, his voice breaking through the stunned silence, low and forceful. “He’s alive. We get him out. Now.” His voice was more a growl, a declaration against reality—against fate itself. It wasn’t a plea—it was a command, a refusal to consider any other possibility. He reached down, began pulling away rubble, his gloved hands trembling slightly as they moved over the sharp edges of concrete. He ignored the pain, ignored the way his hands ached beneath the gloves, the way his fingers bled from the jagged edges. None of it mattered.

Soap's breath came in ragged gasps as he tore at the debris, his eyes wide and frantic. The dust was so thick it felt like he was breathing in sand, each inhale scraping against his lungs, but he didn’t care. The sweat mixed with the dirt smeared across his skin. His fingers were raw, torn and bleeding, but he didn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop. He glanced up at Ghost, just once, seeing the determination, the near-manic drive in his movements. Ghost’s eyes were hollow, his face set in a mask of focus, but Soap could see the fear there—the fear and something else, something deeper that he couldn’t quite put into words.

Ghost’s movements were relentless. He worked with an almost inhuman determination, his muscles straining, his hands shaking, but he didn’t slow down. He couldn’t. He remembered the darkness closing in, remembered the dirt pressing in from all sides, remembered the feeling of being buried alive—of clawing his way out. He remembered the betrayal, the way the earth had swallowed him, and the way he’d fought against it, alone. But now, it wasn't just about the past—it wasn't just about his own memories. It was about Price. He couldn’t let Price feel that. Not for a second longer than necessary.

“Ghost, easy,” Gaz’s voice broke through the frantic noise, his hand steadying a metal beam that Ghost had almost yanked free. “We can’t risk bringing more of this down on him.” Gaz’s eyes were wide—fearful, but focused. He was watching Ghost closely, concern evident in his gaze.

For a heartbeat, Ghost didn’t seem to hear him. His breath was ragged, his vision tunnelling on the rubble, on the desperate need to move, to do something. Then, for a moment, Ghost paused, his chest heaving, his eyes locking with Gaz’s. The fear in Gaz’s eyes mirrored his own, and for that split second, Ghost saw it—saw the reality of how close they were to making everything worse. He swallowed hard, meeting Gaz’s eyes for just a heartbeat before nodding, a short, sharp movement. He forced himself to be more careful, more measured, but his hands didn’t stop, his drive undiminished.

“Steady, Simon,” Price’s voice echoed in his memory—an old moment, a different mission, but the tone was the same. That steady reassurance, that grounding presence. Price had always been the one to steady him when the world seemed too loud, too chaotic, too broken. Ghost clenched his jaw, channelling that memory, forcing himself to focus.

“Come on, Cap,” Soap’s voice broke the silence that followed, strained but filled with determination. “Don’t you dare give up on us.” He was talking to keep himself moving, to push away the dread that threatened to take over. His hands ached, his knuckles raw, but he couldn’t stop. He wouldn’t.

“That’s it, lads,” Ghost murmured, his voice hoarse. “We keep at it.” There was a desperation to his words, a plea hidden beneath the steel of his tone. He knew what it meant to lose hope. He wouldn't let them—couldn't let them. Not now, not when Price was still somewhere beneath the debris.

Deep beneath the debris, Price fought to stay conscious. The weight on his chest was crushing, each shallow breath a battle against the pressure that threatened to suffocate him. He was slipping, the darkness pulling at him, the cold seeping into his bones, making it harder and harder to keep his thoughts straight. He needed to focus—he needed to keep his mind clear, but it was so damn hard. He could feel the jagged edge of his radio, barely within reach. It had taken everything to get his thumb on the button, and even now, his vision was blurring, his strength waning. His body screamed at him to give in, to close his eyes and let the darkness swallow him, but he couldn’t. Not yet.

“Soap… Gaz… come in,” Price managed, his voice strained, barely a rasp. His throat burned from the dust, every word feeling like a battle. He forced his eyes to stay open, the darkness pressing in from every side, his head pounding. He needed them to know—needed them to know he was still here.

For a long moment, there was nothing—just static filling his ears, the silence almost unbearable. Then, finally, Soap's voice crackled through the noise, faint but unmistakably there.

“Price? We’re working on getting to you. How are you holding up?”

Price exhaled, a strained smile tugging at his lips despite the pain. “Don’t… worry about me, Sergeant,” he said, forcing his voice to stay even, though it cracked with each word. “How’s… Ghost?”

There was a pause, Soap's confusion almost tangible in the silence. When he responded, his voice was softer, almost cautious. “Price, he’s here—he’s fine. But we’re getting you out first, yeah?”

There was a long silence as Price closed his eyes, a shaky exhale escaping him. Relief washed over him, mingling with the pain. “Ghost... alright…” It was all that mattered. If Ghost was okay, they still had a chance. He just needed to hold on a bit longer. His thumb slipped from the button, the radio falling from his grasp once more, lost in the rubble. He let his head rest back against the broken concrete, his eyes drifting shut. He had done what he could—he just had to hold on a bit longer.

Above, the sound of Price’s voice through the radio was like a jolt—a shock of hope that electrified them all. Ghost’s eyes widened beneath the mask, his hand freezing for just an instant. Price’s voice, weak but alive. It was there, a tether that yanked Ghost back from the edge.

Ghost’s hands moved faster, more precise, his jaw clenched so tightly that pain radiated up his temples. He could hear Price’s voice echoing in his head, that one question repeating—“How’s Ghost?” It made no sense, but somehow, it was everything. The question cut through the debris, through the fear and the chaos, and it was like a lifeline—Price, buried, struggling to breathe, still thinking about him. The absurdity of it, the selflessness, made Ghost want to yell and laugh at the same time.

Ghost felt something loosen in his chest—something tight, knotted with fear. Price was still there, still fighting, and it gave him the strength to push harder, to keep moving. He would tear through every inch of this place until Price was free.

Soap worked beside him, his expression hardening, his movements becoming almost mechanical. His fingers bled, the sharp edges of the debris slicing into his skin, but he barely felt it. All he could think about was Price, and Ghost’s voice—cold and unyielding—saying, "He’s alive. We get him out." Soap’s hands moved faster, his heart hammering as he whispered to himself, “We’re coming for you, Cap. Hold on.”

They worked together, Soap and Gaz moving beside Ghost, each of them shifting the rubble with an urgency that bordered on desperation. The moments stretched, and the dust clogged their throats, but they kept going, driven by a determination that felt almost feral. Each piece of debris they pulled away brought them closer—closer to Price, closer to the one thing that mattered in that moment.

Finally, Ghost’s hand brushed against something—an arm, bruised and covered in grime. His breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding as he reached further, his fingers finding Price’s wrist, feeling the faint, steady pulse beneath the dirt and grit.

“Price!” Ghost called, louder this time, his voice cracking. He gripped Price’s wrist, his own hands trembling. “Hold on, we’re right here.”

Gaz and Soap were there in an instant, their hands working faster, their hearts in their throats. Together, they cleared the rest of the rubble, the dust thick in the air, their breaths coming in short gasps, but they didn’t stop. They wouldn’t stop until Price was out.

The relief was almost tangible when Price's face came into view—dust-covered, bruised, but unmistakably alive. Ghost’s breath caught, his chest tightening with a mixture of emotions that threatened to spill over. Relief, fear, and something else, something so deep it hurt. When they finally pulled Price free, Ghost stayed close, his hand never leaving Price’s arm, his eyes scanning Price’s face, searching for any sign—any flicker of recognition. Price’s eyes opened, barely, his gaze unfocused, but there. He looked at Ghost, and for a moment, there was something unspoken between them—something raw and powerful, something neither of them could name.

“Told you…” Price’s voice was barely a whisper, his lips cracked, his smile faint. “Not… going anywhere.”

Ghost’s chest tightened, a shuddering breath escaping him. He leaned closer, his voice low, almost a growl, thick with emotion despite not understanding where Price was coming from. “You better not, Price. You’re not allowed to.” The words were harsh, but the grip on Price’s arm, the way Ghost’s fingers trembled, betrayed something else.

Soap and Gaz moved in, their hands gentle as they helped lift Price, careful not to jostle him too much. They supported him, taking his weight as they began to move, and Ghost stayed beside him, his hand still on Price’s shoulder, his presence constant. There was something there—something fragile and precious, something that could break if either of them dared to speak it aloud.

As they moved, Ghost felt Price’s head slump against his shoulder, felt the warmth of his breath against his neck, and for just a moment, he allowed himself to feel it—the fear, the relief, the confusion, and that undefinable thing that twisted in his chest whenever Price was nearby. There were no words for it, no place for it in the middle of a war zone, but it was there all the same, a connection that felt deeper than anything Ghost had ever allowed himself to feel before. He wasn’t sure what it was, didn’t know if he even wanted to know. But he knew one thing: he wasn’t letting go. Not now. Not ever.

The roar of the chopper's blades filled the air, sand and dust swirling in chaotic spirals around them. The evac helicopter hovered nearby, its engines a deafening roar, ready to take off the moment Price was secure. Medics moved with practiced precision, lifting Price onto the stretcher, their voices clipped and focused as they assessed his injuries. They communicated in short bursts, almost drowned out by the sound of the rotors, their hands moving quickly but carefully over Price's battered form. Ghost, Soap, and Gaz stood by their eyes never straying far from their captain. Each of them, despite the chaos around them, seemed unwilling to let Price out of their sight for even a second.

Ghost’s gaze was fixed on Price, his eyes tracing the shallow rise and fall of Price's chest, watching each grimace of pain that flickered across his face. He took a step back, giving the medics the space they needed, but he stayed close—close enough to see the way Price’s fingers twitched, his body struggling against the exhaustion that wanted to drag him under. Ghost’s heart pounded, his breath coming in shallow bursts that he couldn’t quite control. The fear was still there, an echo of what he’d felt when Price had been buried beneath the rubble. The panic had been sharp, cold, and unrelenting, and even now, the relief hadn’t fully settled. His hands still shook, the adrenaline not yet drained, and the vulnerability that twisted inside him made him feel raw and unsteady.

Price turned his head slightly, his eyes half-open, searching the faces around him until they settled on Ghost. His lips moved; a whisper almost lost in the roar of the rotor blades. Ghost leaned closer, trying to catch the words, but the noise swallowed them whole, leaving only the faintest impression of what Price was trying to say. Still, Ghost could see it—could see the way Price's lips formed the familiar words.

It'll be okay.

Ghost’s chest tightened, his throat thickening with the weight of emotions he couldn’t express—not here, not now, maybe not ever. Price, even now—especially now—was thinking of him, urging him forward, refusing to give in. It was always like that. Ghost didn’t have the words to explain what that meant, how deeply it struck him, how it twisted something inside his chest in a way that was almost painful. He nodded, his gloved hand brushing against the edge of the stretcher for just a moment before he withdrew, the smallest of touches that was as much for himself as it was for Price—a promise, a reassurance.

Ghost leaned closer, his voice a low murmur that only Price could hear, the words slipping out before he could think better of them. “Just rest, John. We’ve got you.” There was a steadiness in his tone that belied the storm that raged beneath it, a calm that was almost practiced. He needed Price to hear it, needed Price to believe it—because if Price could believe it, then maybe Ghost could too.

There was a faint twitch of a smile on Price's lips, his eyes closing in exhaustion, and Ghost pulled back, letting the medics finish their work. Soap and Gaz exchanged a look, standing a few steps away from the stretcher, their eyes softening as they watched the exchange. There was something in their gazes—respect, concern, a deeper understanding of the bond between Ghost and Price that neither of them had truly understood until now. They didn’t say anything, but there was something in their expressions—something that spoke of understanding, of recognition. They saw it, even if they didn’t fully understand it. There was something between Ghost and Price, something unspoken that went beyond the mission, beyond the ranks and the orders. It wasn’t something they would ask about now, not with the adrenaline still rushing and the dust barely settled, but they saw it. They understood, at least in part.

The medics signalled they were ready, lifting the stretcher with practiced care, moving towards the chopper. Ghost stepped back again, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. He watched every movement, his eyes never leaving Price, the knot in his chest tightening with each step they took away from him. He could feel Soap's hand on his shoulder, a small, grounding gesture of reassurance. He turned his head slightly, meeting Soap’s eyes, and Soap gave him a nod—a silent promise that Price would be looked after.

“Come on, Ghost,” Soap said, his voice low, cutting through the noise. There was a gentleness to his voice that Ghost wasn't used to, a kind of recognition of what Ghost had been through, a rare vulnerability between them. “We’ve done our part. Let’s get him home.”

Ghost swallowed, his eyes drifting back to Price for a moment before he finally nodded. He took a step towards the chopper, Soap’s hand still on his shoulder, guiding him forward. He could still see Price, strapped down, his eyes finally closing as exhaustion took over, and even then, there was a calmness in Price’s expression—a trust that Ghost found both comforting and terrifying in its depth. It was a trust that Ghost wasn’t sure he deserved, but he would do everything in his power to be worthy of it.

They climbed into the chopper, Ghost settling across from where Price was laid. The interior of the helicopter was cramped, filled with the noise of machinery, but it felt almost like a cocoon—a temporary barrier from the outside world, a chance to catch their breath. He watched as the medics continued their work, adjusting IVs, checking his vitals, their hands moving quickly but carefully. The sound of the rotors filled the cabin, a steady, rhythmic beat that seemed to match the pounding of Ghost’s heart. He kept his gaze steady, his eyes rarely straying from Price’s face. The journey back would be long, but it didn’t matter. They had Price. He was safe. They had all held on, and that was what mattered.

Ghost leaned back slightly, his body finally allowing itself to feel the exhaustion that had been threatening to take over since the moment they’d pulled Price from the rubble. His shoulders sagged, the tension that had wound itself so tightly in his muscles finally releasing, his eyes slipping closed just for a moment. There were still things to be said, things to face—but not now. For now, they were all still here, and that was enough.

Soap glanced over at Ghost, watching as he finally seemed to relax, even if only for a moment. He exchanged a look with Gaz, both of them understanding the weight that Ghost had carried, the fear that had gripped him. They’d seen Ghost as an unshakeable force for so long that to see him like this—raw, vulnerable—was both startling and deeply humanizing. They didn’t need to say anything—words weren’t necessary. The understanding was enough. They’d all seen it, the way Ghost had refused to let go, the way he’d fought against the rubble with a desperation that went beyond duty.

As the chopper lifted off, the ground falling away beneath them, Soap let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He reached over, giving Ghost’s knee a light tap, just enough to get his attention. Ghost opened his eyes, looking over at him, and Soap gave him a small, lopsided grin.

“We did it, Ghost. We’re taking him home.”

Ghost nodded, his gaze drifting back to Price. The trust in Price’s expression was still there, even in sleep, and Ghost let himself believe, just for a moment, that everything was going to be all right. He leaned back again, his eyes closing once more, and allowed himself to rest. The exhaustion was a heavy blanket that pulled at him, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let himself surrender to it. They were all still here. Price was still here. And for Ghost, that was enough.

---

The medical tent was dimly lit, a warm light casting long shadows across the canvas walls. The rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor and the low murmur of the medics filled the otherwise quiet space. Price lay on a cot, his eyes half-open as medics checked the bruising along his ribs and replaced his IV. Every now and then, Price winced, a pained hiss escaping through gritted teeth, but he kept his gaze steady, focused across the room.

Ghost was beside him, seated in a chair, his body slouched slightly forward, arms crossed over his chest. His mask was off—an extremely rare sight, but exhaustion had clearly won over caution. His face was mostly hidden, his head resting against his shoulder, his hair falling messily across his forehead. Price’s hand rested gently in Ghost’s hair, his fingers absently brushing through the strands, the touch gentle, almost protective. It was a motion without thought, almost instinctual, as if Price was grounding himself with each slow stroke of Ghost’s hair.

Soap and Gaz stood a few steps away, their voices hushed as they exchanged quiet words. Soap nodded towards Ghost, a small, relieved smile tugging at his lips.

“Would you look at that?” he whispered, nudging Gaz with his elbow. “Man’s finally asleep. It’s about bloody time.”

Gaz glanced over, his expression softening as he looked at Ghost, the tension in his own shoulders easing. “Yeah,” he murmured. “After the way he was earlier… it’s good to see him getting some rest.”

Soap let out a quiet sigh of agreement, his gaze shifting from Ghost to Price. He hesitated for a moment, his brows furrowed, before he finally spoke up, his voice carrying just enough for Price to hear. “Cap… back there—you kept asking after him. We nearly lost you, and yet you were worried about Ghost. What’s really going on?” There was no judgment in his voice—just curiosity, laced with concern.

Price’s hand stilled in Ghost’s hair, and for a moment, he looked at Soap, a flicker of something—guilt, or perhaps a reluctance—crossing his expression. He withdrew his hand carefully, letting it rest against the edge of the cot. He turned his head slowly, his eyes locking onto Soap’s. “It’s... complicated, Soap,” he said, his voice rough, each word careful. He didn’t want to get into this now, not with Ghost finally getting some rest. “Just... old history,” he added, his gaze softening as he glanced at Ghost, a hint of protectiveness in his expression.

Gaz stepped closer, his expression filled with concern. “Captain, it seemed like more than just history. You weren’t asking about yourself—you were worried about him. We just want to understand.”

Before Price could answer, there was a low noise—Ghost stirring. He lifted his head, blinking as if fighting off the lingering effects of exhaustion. Price opened his mouth to say something—his voice soft, almost pleading. “You don’t have to, Simon. You don’t have to share it, not now.” His eyes held Ghost’s gaze, a gentle insistence, his expression protective despite his own obvious pain and exhaustion.

Ghost turned his head slightly, looking at Price, and for a moment, the tent felt impossibly small, the air heavy with unspoken words. Price was trying to shield him again, even here, even in this state. Ghost felt a mixture of irritation and gratitude—a familiar feeling when it came to Price. He met Price's eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in the barest hint of a smirk.

“They deserve to know,” Ghost said quietly, his voice carrying a weight that made Soap and Gaz both freeze. He looked at the two men standing by, his eyes serious. “I trust them, John.”

The use of his given name—soft, familiar—gave Price pause. Soap and Gaz exchanged a glance, their expressions shifting from confusion to something gentler. The fact that Ghost trusted them enough to share whatever this was carried a significance that wasn’t lost on either of them.

“I was buried alive.”

Ghost’s voice was gravelly, laced with exhaustion and emotion, and his head lifted slightly, his eyes opening just enough to look at them. Soap and Gaz both stared, taken aback—not only because Ghost had been awake but also because he had chosen to speak. There was a rawness to his tone, an edge that seemed to come from somewhere deep within him. It was as though the words had been pulled out of him by force, something too heavy to keep carrying alone.

Ghost shifted in his seat, uncrossing his arms and leaning forward slightly, his gaze distant, focused on some memory only he could see. He drew in a breath, his gaze flickering over to Price, who watched him with a mixture of concern and something else—something protective. Price gave a small shake of his head, his voice low, a whisper meant only for Ghost.

“You don’t have to share, Simon. Not if you don’t want to.”

Ghost hesitated, his gaze softening for a split second. He could see Price’s exhaustion, the bruises lining his ribs, the wince he tried to hide as he shifted. And yet, even now, Price was trying to shield him, to protect him. It made something inside Ghost twist—something that was part gratitude, part frustration.

“They deserve to know,” Ghost replied, his voice firm but quiet. He looked back at Soap and Gaz, and this time, there was something else in his eyes—trust, raw and unapologetic. “I trust them, John.”

Price’s eyes held his for a moment longer before he nodded, the tension in his face easing, though his eyes stayed wary.

Ghost took a deep breath, the air seeming to thicken around them as he prepared himself to speak. “They put me in a coffin,” he began, his voice flat, almost hollow. “With the body of the man who betrayed us. Vernon. They buried us alive—together. No light, no air. Just the weight of the earth and the stench of death.” He paused, a shudder running through him. His fingers twitched slightly as he spoke, as if the memory was a physical thing he could still feel under his skin. “I got out using Vernon’s jawbone. Crawled my way up through the dirt. Every breath I took was dirt in my lungs, every inch I climbed was a fight against death.”

Soap and Gaz exchanged a wide-eyed look, neither daring to say anything. The silence in the tent was heavy, the weight of Ghost’s words settling over them all. Ghost’s eyes dropped to his hands, his fingers twitching slightly as if the memory was still there, in his muscles, his bones.

“I never told anyone,” he said, his voice quieter now, the roughness almost gone, replaced by something raw. He looked over at Price, his eyes locking with the captain’s. “But he knew. Somehow, the old sod knew.”

Price managed a faint smile, his eyes softening. He reached out, his hand resting on Ghost’s forearm, his thumb brushing lightly over the fabric of his sleeve, the touch gentle but grounding. “You think I'd just miss something like that?” Price murmured, his voice quiet, filled with a warmth that made Ghost look away for a moment. “Not when it’s you.”

The words hung between them, raw and open, and the vulnerability in Price’s eyes was too much—too real, and Ghost wasn’t sure he could handle it. But he didn’t move his arm away; he let Price hold on.

Ghost took a deep breath, the words coming slowly, as if they hurt to say. “That’s why, when you were down there... when you were buried... I knew what it was like. I knew what it felt like, and I couldn’t—” He stopped, his jaw tightening, his eyes closing for a moment as he tried to steady himself. “I couldn’t lose you, Price. Not like that.” His voice dropped, barely a whisper, “Not when I had a chance to do something about it this time.”

He looked back at Price, his eyes narrowing just slightly as if frustration was mixing with the fear he had been suppressing for so long. “And that’s why you kept asking about me, isn’t it?” There was a bitter edge to his voice, but also a resigned understanding. “Even when you were buried, barely breathing, you just had to be thinking about everyone else.” He paused, shaking his head, and then gave a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’ve always got to be the hero, haven’t you? Never think about what it does to the rest of us.”

Price’s hand tightened slightly on Ghost’s arm, his voice a bit rough around the edges but laced with something deeply affectionate. “You weren’t going to lose me, Simon. You made sure of that.” He paused, a smirk playing on his lips, despite the pain etched across his face. “But you know, you might’ve saved yourself a few grey hairs if you weren’t always so bloody focused on me.”

Ghost’s eyes narrowed, a spark of something lighter flashing there, and he shook his head, his voice coming out as a muttered grumble, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “Yeah, well... someone’s got to keep your reckless arse in check, old man.”

Price let out a low chuckle, though it quickly turned into a wince, his hand moving to his ribs. “Aye, maybe so,” he murmured, his eyes closing for a moment, the exhaustion pulling at him.

There was a beat of silence, and then Soap stepped back slightly, nudging Gaz with his elbow. He jerked his head towards the tent flap, his voice dropping to a murmur. “Come on, mate. Let’s give them a bit of privacy,” Soap whispered, glancing at the two men on the cot.

Gaz nodded, his eyes lingering on Ghost for a moment, the understanding deepening there. They didn’t need to say anything else. This wasn’t about them—not right now. This was Price and Ghost, and whatever unspoken bond they shared. They stepped out of the tent, the flap falling shut behind them, leaving the two men in the dim, flickering light of the medical tent, the weight of the unspoken words hanging in the quiet.

Price let his head rest back, his eyes closing, though his hand stayed on Ghost’s arm. The exhaustion was pulling at him, but he wasn’t ready to let go—not just yet. Ghost shifted closer, his other hand coming up to rest over Price’s, his fingers brushing lightly against the back of Price's hand. It was a rare moment of physical connection, something almost intimate in the quiet of the tent, as if he was anchoring them both to the present.

“You’re a stubborn old bastard, you know that?” Ghost murmured, his voice low, almost gentle, the words carrying a weight that spoke of something more—something that sat between the lines, undefined.

Price smiled, his eyes still closed. “Aye, and you’re a bloody handful,” Price replied, his voice fading, but his grip on Ghost's hand remained, even as the exhaustion finally took over, his breathing evening out.

Ghost stayed where he was, his hand resting over Price’s, his gaze fixed on the rise and fall of his captain’s chest. He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t need to. The quiet settled around them, the tension slowly seeping out of his body. For the first time in a long time, Ghost let himself relax, his eyes growing heavy. He kept watch over the only family he had left—an unspoken promise that whatever lay between them, he would always be there. And in that silence, with Price's hand still under his, Ghost let himself drift, the ambiguity of their bond both a comfort and a weight, one that he was willing to carry.

The tent fell into stillness, the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor a gentle reminder of life, of resilience. In the shadows cast by the dim light, there was an understanding between them that words could never fully convey—a promise forged through shared pain and unyielding loyalty. And as Ghost finally allowed his eyes to close, he held onto that promise, the weight of it both a burden and a blessing. It was more than enough. It was everything.

[arson-09]

Acowar Review✨✨ sjm needs to pay for my therapy✨✨

Its not as infuriating as acomaf but its still… bad.

Point 1: the court of ignorance and dumbassery

Lets cut to the chase. why the FUCK didnt feyre read Tamlin and Luciens minds at ANYPOINT while she was doin her hot girl shit of taking the spring court down??? huh sjm??? why is your fmc only powerful when convenient. So much could have been cut down. Acowar was way too long.

The whole destroying of the spring court didnt even make that much sense. Im all for a girlie getting back at the people who wronged her but feyre ended up hurting a lot of innocent people in the process. Feyre even tries to ignore the consequences of her actions. She had to invade peoples minds and manipulate people to get them to turn against tamlin and all this could have been avoided if she read his damn mind and learned he was a double agent. Lucien even hinted towards it

Part One: Princess of Carrion »

Chapter Six

None. It was either go to war with the Night Court and Hybern, or ally with Hybern, let them try to stir up trouble, and then use that alliance to our own advantage further down the road." "What do you mean," I breathed. But Lucien realized what he'd said, and hedged, "We have enemies in every court. Having Hybern's alliance will make them think twice." Liar. Trained, clever liar.

If feyre is supposed to be so smart, and she did pick up on this, why didnt she do anything? This is so frustrating.

Then once she leaves the spring court i found myself frankly not caring. Acomaf hadnt given me enough to care about the inner circle so i didnt and sjm cant make me like rhysand. which i have so many gripes but for word counts sake let me name my main ones

Point 2: Sarah Janet Maas and her shitty love interests

the ignoring rhysand sexual assault of feyre and EXCUSING it and his little habit of not telling his court things

Part Two: Cursebreaker »

Chapter Twelve

Was it going on before you even left?" I whipped my head to him, even if I could barely make out his features in the dark. "I never touched Rhysand like that until months later." "You kissed Under the Mountain." "I had as little choice in that as I did in the dancing." "And yet this is the male you now love." He didn't know-he had no inkling of the personal history, the secrets, that had opened my heart to the High Lord of the Night Court. They were not my stories to tell

here we have sjm acknowledging that yeah, rhysand Sexually Assaulted Feyre UtM in Acotar. Without her consent he dressed her inappropriately (which she was uncomfortable with) had her dance provocatively in his lap, kissed her, and made her drink alcohol so she wouldn't remember the details all without her consent. Yet Sjm is going “its fine” now and feyre herself going “you just dont get it…” ⁉️⁉️⁉️

Now see if sjm actually planned for rhysand to become the love interest why didnt she just avoid all this by having Amarantha make rhysand do this to feyre? Because that would have solved some issues but no. Because Rhysand did all this of his own free will in acotar. He actively chose to do this to feyre. To humiliate her and anger Tamlin because rhysand is obsessed with Tamlin.

Rhysand also loves to not tell his own court things. I was and still am very angry over him not telling Mor, Azriel, Cassien and at the very least his Wife about his plan with the court of nightmares. Just why.

Mors anger towards Nesta also makes no sense. sjm stop writing girl on girl hate challenge impossible

Point three: That one toy story scene “I dont wanna play with you anymore!”

Now tamlin. Tamlin tamlin tamlin im so sorry love for what sjm has done to you. If i start ill never stop. What Tamlin said to feyre and rhysand at the high lords meeting was out of pocket but he also wasnt wrong about some things. Also from established character these actions make no sense and his actions havent made sense since acomaf because sjm threw him and his character away to play with shadow daddy and bad morals. But she also cant commit to making a character of hers actually evil so tamlin saves the whole day by bringing the autumn court to fight and saving rhysand life. Tamlin has redeemed himself by sjm standards but she then wrote the holiday novel which i have read and detested.

Overall the plot was fine. i guess. it probably looked better when compared to the characters.

Sjm learn to redeem characters outside of “ooh they were abused and have trauma so everything they do is okay” for guys and “she fell in love/had sex with the most PERFECT MALE TO EVER MASCULINE.” its boring and flat. Also i know what happens in Acosf (i will not be reading that ty) so wtf happened to Nesta bro. she got the tamlin treatment. boooo 👎

to end off heres some of my favorite highlights from acowar 50%+ thru the book.

[redsummermoon]

Hello! I love your writing, to start. I know you said you only like to write for Charlie, buuuut sense you also asked for ideas, I thought I’d mention this one I had! So I’m the odd man out and actually have a fascination with Richard Cameron. I know, don’t hurt me. But I was thinking of a scenario with a female reader and a sort of “enemies to lovers” fic with Cameron? Basically where they’re complete opposites. Maybe the reader is popular and rebellious, and of course Cameron is himself. They’ve got nothing in common except the poetry meetings they like to go to, and they really just make snarky comments back and forth the whole time. Then finally (sense it’s fall) they end up going to a Halloween party. (Perhaps there’s drinking involved?) And Cameron ends up seeing the reader in her costume, that by 50’s standards might be a little risqué, and he’s like “how tacky, girls shouldn’t dress like that”, but secretly he ends up like … 👀❤️ And then smooch

Anyways, that’s my idea. Feel free to ignore. Thanks, love 💗

Of course my first request is cameron😒 (IM KIDDING) 

Thanks for requesting!! I hope I did your fascination justice❤️

Something More

Richard Cameron x reader CW: use of Y/N, female reader, blonde hair reader, underage drinking, making fun of nervous stuttering [2.9k words] 

Cameron had never understood Y/N.

Sure, she was smart. Probably too smart for someone who spent most of her time breaking rules with Charlie Dalton or getting involved in Neil Perry’s theatrical antics. Cameron could almost tolerate Charlie’s rebellious streak. After all, they were roommates, and you had to pick your battles. But Y/N… there was something about her that made it impossible for him to simply look the other way.

It wasn’t that he hated her. At least, Cameron didn’t think it was hatred. Maybe it was the way she always seemed to one-up him. Like when she managed to sweet-talk her way out of trouble for sneaking into the theater building late at night, or when she got away with challenging the headmaster’s every word without consequence. Charlie thought she was brilliant, and Neil seemed to gravitate toward her, especially during their impromptu play rehearsals. But to Cameron, Y/N was the embodiment of everything he wasn’t. Free-spirited, fearless, and… reckless.

He sighed, adjusting his tie in the reflection of the small dorm mirror. "Rivals," he muttered under his breath. That was what he’d settled on. They were rivals. Even if he didn’t quite understand why it bothered him so much.

Cameron knew he was no rebel. He liked rules, structure, and order. It was what made him who he was. But then came Neil’s ridiculous idea of reviving the Dead Poets Society. Neil had made it sound poetic and adventurous, a hidden escape from the suffocating walls of Welton. It was, of course, the exact sort of thing Charlie and Y/N would love.

Naturally, Cameron wanted no part of it. Sneaking out after curfew, wandering into the woods, all for the sake of reading poetry in secret? It was a direct violation of school policy, and Cameron wasn’t about to jeopardize his future over some poetry club. At least, that’s what he had been planning to say when Neil invited him.

But then, of course, he overheard Neil mentioning Y/N would be there.

He had no idea why that changed things, but suddenly, Cameron felt a knot tighten in his stomach. She’d be there, laughing, breaking the rules, and Cameron knew exactly how it would play out. She’d have that smug look on her face, as if she’d won some unspoken battle between them. She’d act as if she was braver, bolder, and once again, she’d leave Cameron in her dust.

"Fine," Cameron said to Neil, trying to hide the nervous edge in his voice. "I’ll go."

He hated the way his palms started sweating the moment he agreed, and the anxiety that knotted in his chest only tightened as the hours passed. Sneaking out wasn’t his thing. But he couldn’t let Y/N have this. Not this time. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of thinking she was more daring than him.

Later that night, as Cameron made his way through the shadows of Welton’s halls, he tried to calm the rising tide of his nerves. His heart pounded in his chest, each footstep feeling heavier than the last. This was wrong. Everything about it was wrong. He shouldn’t be sneaking out to the woods, shouldn’t be joining some secret society that defied everything Welton stood for.

But when he thought of Y/N, laughing and teasing him about being too scared to join them, he gritted his teeth and pressed forward.

The night was heavy with silence, the kind that pressed against Cameron's ears, heightening his anxiety as they made their way into the woods. Neil and Charlie led the group, their low murmurs and laughter breaking the stillness every now and then. Cameron lagged behind, mentally cataloging every risk, every infraction, every possible way this could go horribly wrong.

Then there was Y/N.

She darted ahead of the group, her footsteps loud as she ran through the leaves, laughing as she threw her arms out wide. “This is it, boys! The start of our revolution!” she shouted into the night air.

Cameron winced. “Shut up,” he hissed, jogging up to catch her. “We’re still too close to the school!”

Y/N only grinned, glancing over her shoulder at him with a playful glint in her eyes. “Relax, Cameron. No one’s going to hear us out here.”

“They will if you keep yelling like that.” He grabbed her arm, tugging her back toward the group. “Do you ever think? We’re supposed to be sneaky, and you’re—”

Before he could finish, Y/N spun around, eyes wide in mock innocence. “Me? You think I’m the problem?”

“Yes!” Cameron’s voice cracked slightly, his frustration rising. “You’re always so loud—”

Y/N leaned in closer, yelling, “Am I?”

He groaned, placing his hand over her mouth to stop whatever retort she had coming. “Just... quiet.”

For a moment, Y/N’s eyes locked onto his. They glimmered with mischief as Cameron rambled on about the consequences if they got caught. She wasn’t even listening. She never listened. Then, without warning, she licked his hand.

“Ugh!” Cameron pulled back, wiping his hand on his blazer.

Y/N smirked. “Thanks for the taste, Cameron!” She winked, then darted ahead, disappearing into the trees.

Cameron stood there for a moment, seething as her laughter echoed back at him. “That damn girl,” he muttered under his breath, before hurrying to catch up with the others.

• • • • • ☽ ☼ ☾ • • • • •

A few weeks later, they’d settled into their usual spot in the woods, the group began their poetry readings. Neil always read with confidence, Charlie with charm, and even Knox, when not obsessing over some girl, could manage to stumble through his lines.

Then there was Cameron, who dreaded his turn.

“I-I think I’ll go next,” Cameron announced, clearing his throat as he stood up, gripping the poetry book a little too tightly.

Y/N leaned over to Neil, whispering loud enough for Cameron to hear, “Brace yourselves, boys. Here comes another thrilling performance from Mr. Perfection himself.”

Cameron’s face burned. He shot her a look, but Y/N just smiled sweetly, batting her eyelashes in mock innocence. He started to read, his voice wavering on the first line.

“Wh-Whose woods these are I think-I think I know. H-His-his house is in the-the village though.”

Y/N leaned in closer, whispering to Charlie. Cameron figured she would be making fun of his stuttering.

Cameron shot her another glare, stumbling on his next line. “H-He will not see m-me stopping he-here.”

Charlie snorted under his breath, but Neil shot Y/N a warning look. She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms and leaning back against a rock. Still, the damage was done, and Cameron barely made it through the rest of the poem without losing his nerve.

Later, when Knox started talking (again) about his girl troubles, Y/N took it as her cue to play matchmaker. “You just need to be bolder, Knox! Girls love confidence. You’ve gotta show her you’re the one!”

Cameron sighed, rubbing his temples. “Y/N, can you not? We’re trying to read poetry, not solve Knox’s love life.”

She turned to him, eyebrows raised. “What’s wrong, Cameron? Jealous? I can help you with your stuttering and your girl problems.”

He scoffed. “I don’t have girl problems.”

“Oh, really? Then why is your face red every time I’m around?” Y/N shot back.

• • • • • ☽ ☼ ☾ • • • • •

Lately, Y/N has been… different. She’d still tease him, but it wasn’t with the same sharpness, the same eagerness to provoke a reaction. Her jokes seemed half-hearted, like she was holding something back.

One evening, after Cameron had finished reading his poem, without stuttering for once, he looked up to see Y/N staring at him. Not smirking or rolling her eyes, but actually staring. For a second, Cameron thought he might’ve imagined it, but when he caught her gaze, she quickly looked away, focusing on the ground.

What was that about?

“Hey, Y/N,” Cameron asked after the meeting had ended, the others already making their way back toward the school. She stopped, turning to face him, the moonlight casting soft shadows over her face. “You… didn’t make fun of me tonight.”

She blinked, a slow smile creeping onto her lips. “Would you rather I had?”

Cameron shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to respond. “No, I just… I noticed.”

“Maybe I’m getting soft. Or maybe you’re getting better,” Y/N shrugged. “See you at the Halloween party tomorrow.”

Before Cameron could reply, she brushed past him, her arm grazing his as she walked by. He stood there for a moment, confused, flustered, and less irritated than he usually was after one of their encounters.

That damn girl.

• • • • • ☽ ☼ ☾ • • • • •

Cameron adjusted his soldier's uniform for the tenth time, nervously scanning the cafeteria. The decorations were tacky but festive, with paper bats hanging from the ceiling and pumpkins lining the tables. People had gone all out with their costumes, and the music blaring from the speakers set the perfect atmosphere for the Halloween party at Chris’s high school.

Cameron wasn’t usually one for these kinds of things, but tonight, he was trying to make an effort. His friends were really excited and that kind of energy was contagious. He spotted Knox and Chris almost immediately. Knox was beaming, dressed as Batman, and Chris, right beside him in a Batwoman costume, clung to his arm like they were in their own little world.

Knox caught Cameron’s eye and waved him over. “Cameron! You made it!”

“Yeah, wouldn’t miss it,” Cameron said, though his eyes were still darting around the room. “You guys seen Charlie or Y/N?”

Chris and Knox exchanged a look before laughing.

Cameron frowned. “What?”

Knox shrugged, grinning. “You don’t want to know.”

Cameron’s confusion only deepened. “What do you mean by that?”

Neil strolled up at that moment, wearing a Dracula costume that, somehow, actually suited him. His cape billowed dramatically as he greeted them. Cameron wasted no time.

“Neil, where’s Charlie and Y/N? They said they’d be here.”

Neil shook his head, chuckling softly. “Trust me, Cameron, you don’t want to know.”

Before Cameron could press further, the doors swung open, and Charlie made his grand entrance. Dressed as a pirate, complete with an eyepatch, a fake sword strapped to his waist, and a slightly tipsy grin, Charlie swaggered into the cafeteria.

“There he is,” Knox said, laughing as Charlie made his way over.

“Cameron!” Charlie greeted him loudly, saluting to his friend. “Good to see ya, soldier boy!”

Cameron’s nose crinkled. “You’ve been drinking already?”

“Sir yes, sir!” Charlie smirked, holding up a cup of punch. He shoved the cup into Cameron’s hand. “Here, have some. Courtesy of me and Y/N.”

Cameron eyed the cup warily but took a sip. His throat burned slightly from the spike of alcohol, and he shot Charlie a look. “You spiked the punch?”

Charlie wiggled his eyebrows. “Of course. It’s a party, Cam! Loosen up!”

Cameron sighed, lowering the cup. “Speaking of Y/N... where is she?”

Charlie’s eyes lit up with mischief, and he let out a low whistle. “Oh, just wait until you see her. She’s… well, you’ll see.”

The noise of the party seemed to dull as the doors swung open again, and in walked Y/N, dressed as Marilyn Monroe. The crowd parted like the Red Sea as she moved through, her heels clicking against the floor, and every head, boy and girl alike, turned to stare.

Y/N wore a tight, black dress that shimmered under the dim lights, with a plunging neckline that left little to the imagination. The back was almost entirely see-through, revealing glimpses of her skin with every step. The dress ended high on her thighs, adorned with frills that swayed as she walked. A long strand of pearls hung from her neck, falling gracefully down from her ruby-red lips as she held a pearl between them. Her hair was perfectly styled in soft, platinum blonde curls, pinned in a way that mimicked the iconic Marilyn Monroe look.

Cameron could only stare. His breath caught in his throat, and he felt his cheeks burning. He should’ve known from Charlie’s reaction that Y/N would come dressed to impress, but this… this was something else.

“Holy...,” he muttered under his breath. “Girls shouldn’t dress like that.”

Charlie elbowed him with a grin. “Come on, man. Just enjoy it.���

But Cameron couldn’t. Or rather, he couldn’t stop himself from looking. As Y/N made her way through the crowd, it was as if the entire room was drawn to her. She moved with confidence, a playful smirk on her lips as people whispered and gawked at her.

Charlie nudged Cameron again, this time a bit harder. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I…” Cameron stammered, quickly downing the rest of the punch in his cup. The alcohol did nothing to calm his nerves.

And then, she was there. Right in front of them.

Y/N smiled, looking between Charlie and Cameron. “Hey, boys.”

Charlie gave her a whistle again. “Y/N, you’ve outdone yourself.”

Y/N gave a little twirl, the frills of her dress bouncing playfully. “You like it?” Her eyes landed on Cameron, and her smile grew wider. “What about you, Cameron?”

Cameron swallowed hard. “I, uh... well...”

Before he could gather his thoughts, Charlie cut in, laughing. “Cameron’s jaw was on the floor the second you walked in. Couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she turned her full attention to Cameron. “Really?” Her voice was teasing, but there was a warmth in her expression that made Cameron’s face heat up even more.

“I-I wasn’t—” Cameron started to protest, but he felt his cheeks growing even redder, and he knew there was no denying it.

Y/N’s smile widened, clearly pleased. “Well, I’m glad you approve.” She reached out and lightly touched his arm. “I think your costume is great too, by the way. Very handsome.”

Cameron opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He nodded quickly, feeling more flustered than ever, and Charlie burst out laughing at the sight of him. Cameron couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or the heat rising in his cheeks, but either way, he was in over his head.

As Charlie walked away, giving Cameron a playful wink before disappearing into the crowd, Y/N stayed by Cameron’s side. The music had shifted to something slower, softer, and the energy in the room had mellowed. Y/N turned to Cameron, her smile softening as she caught his gaze.

“So,” she began, taking a small step closer, “what do you say? Want to dance with me?”

Cameron blinked, taken aback. “Dance? With… me?”

Y/N laughed, nodding. “Yes, you. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

Still confused, Cameron hesitated. “Why are you being so… nice to me?” He glanced down, feeling the weight of her attention more than ever. “I mean, we’re not exactly… friends.”

Y/N’s smile faded slightly, but there was a tenderness in her expression. “I guess something’s changed,” she said, shrugging lightly. “I don’t want to be rivals anymore. I don’t think we need to be.”

Cameron’s brow furrowed. “You don’t?”

“No,” Y/N said simply. She looked him in the eyes, her expression sincere. “I don’t want to argue with you all the time. It’s exhausting. I think we could be something else. What do you think, Cameron? Is that okay with you?”

Cameron felt his heart race. She was being so open, so honest. He hadn’t expected this. “I... yeah. That’s okay with me.”

Y/N’s eyes twinkled as she took another step closer, her voice dropping to a soft, almost teasing tone. “Good. So... what do you think we should be, then?”

Cameron swallowed nervously, unsure of how to answer. “I... I don’t know. What do you want to be?”

Y/N’s smile grew wider, playful but warm. “Well,” she said, her fingers lightly brushing against his arm, “maybe this can be our first date. You know, to figure out if we should just be friends... or something more.”

Cameron’s mind went blank for a second, but deep down, he knew what he wanted. He had always been drawn to her, even through their bickering, even when he told himself it was just rivalry. The truth was, it had always been something more.

“I think…” he began, his voice a little shaky but determined. “I think I’d like to be something more.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up, her smile becoming something softer, more genuine. She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Prove it.”

Without thinking, Cameron closed the distance between them, his lips meeting hers in a soft, tentative kiss. The world seemed to disappear for a moment. The party, the music, the people; everything faded into the background. It was just them, standing in the middle of the dance floor, sharing something neither of them had expected.

When they pulled apart, Y/N was smiling, her cheeks flushed. “Well, that’s a good start.”

Cameron smiled back, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. “So... does that mean we’re not rivals anymore?”

Y/N laughed, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the center of the dance floor. “Nope. From now on, we’re on the same team.”

As they began to dance, moving in time with the soft music, Cameron couldn’t help but feel like this was the best first date he could’ve imagined. Y/N, with all her teasing and fire, was someone he’d always admired, and now, she was something more.

(Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening By Robert Frost included (one of my fav poems))

[tk-duveraun]

11/? Luo Binghe is SO NORMAL about Shen Yuan

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11 (here), 12

Read up through even numbered parts on Ao3

Luo Binghe dedicated all of his time to repairing his relationship with Shen Yuan. He cooked every meal, but kept the presentation plain rather than extravagant and showy. Some foods were completely banned. Anything that was considered a couple's food was off the table.

Ning Yingying helped fill in the gaps in his knowledge left by IRS's shitty writing. She also brought their masters peaches when Shen Yuan desperately wanted some and Luo Binghe couldn't bring himself to provide them.

Shen Jiu being fed his cooking also helped keep the behavior from seeming suggestive. Similarly, Luo Binghe did some of the laundry from both Peak Lords. He took care of outer robes and accessories, since he had knowledge of stain removal from silks and expensive cloth from his time in Blackswan. Meanwhile, Ming Fan washed or delegated their undergarments.

The pang in his heart at missing the opportunity to sniff Shen Yuan's inner robes was easily outweighed by his beloved's piece of mind.

Managing Qing Jing Peak's affairs brought to light another strange thing: Shen Yuan never left the mountain without another Peak Lord in his company. In IRS this had been explained by needing support or sudden dual cultivation for Without a Cure, but not only was Shen Yuan not suffering from the poison, but based on the records, this informal restriction existed for his entire tenure as Peak Lord.

Luo Binghe didn't like Ming Fan, but the Original Goods' cordial relationship with his shixiong was a boon.

"Really?" Ming Fan replied when asked about Shen Qingchun not leaving the peak alone. He leaned over Luo Binghe's papers and frowned. "I never noticed. He wasn't injured and his cultivation has always been stable."

Unlike Shen Qingqiu's went unsaid, but not forgotten given the deepening of Ming Fan's frown.

"Shizun," Ming Fan began, meaning Shen Jiu, "goes off peak frequently without an escort. He's always been the mind to Shifu's sword; it seems strange, though perhaps not." Ming Fan sighed and covered his eyes. "Shifu does seem to find himself in… unusual circumstances. It's probably nothing."

"Thanking Shixiong for his insight."

"Thank you for getting that stain out. I thought Shizun was going to kill me when I spilled his ink."

"I'll be leaving first." Luo Binghe finished the plesantries and returned Shen Yuan's records to Qing Jing's archives so no one else could look at them. Next he planned to look into the records from when Shen Yuan was a disciple, but those were stored on An Ding Peak. He would either need an excuse to access the files or an opportunity to break in.

The amount of important things Snowballing left out or just deliberately lied about was getting frustrating. Once again, Luo Binghe felt the deep desire to strangle him. Maybe when he was Shen Yuan's, his husband would teach him how to summon a soul from another world.

But that was a long term plan, for the moment he had to scout out An Ding. He had plenty of opportunities to scope it out, since Shen Yuan was constantly sending long letters to Shang Qinghua. Long enough that Luo Binghe had to give some credit to the fans that thought Shang Qinghua would be the endgame match for Shen Yuan.

Of course, even if Snowballing originally wanted that, Luo Binghe was here now for his wife.

Luo Binghe was full of grace and not anger. Luo Binghe liked Ning Yingying because she gave Shen Yuan peaches and all of the delightful treats he didn't allow himself to give his master. If he kept repeating those things to himself, he wouldn't do anything rash.

Luo Binghe took a deep breath and used the support beam above him to drag his body another few inches under the Bamboo House. Ning Yingying had brought a cat on peak. Not a terrible a idea, given that Shen Yuan loved all critters and they loved him in return. However, this cat was a queen on the edge of birth. So she had immediately found a loose board and weaseled her way underneath Shen Yuan's beloved home and had her kittens.

So now he was crawled on his back under the Bamboo House trying to remove the kittens. At least they were only three days old and wouldn't try to run away and squirm. He just wished he had the space to roll over. Moving would be easier on his stomach, but he didn't think he could bring his delicate cargo out that way.

His hair was a rats nest full of dirt and rocks. The robes were a complete loss. He should have changed out of his special, personal disciple robes for it, but he didn't think that far ahead and thus all of his beautiful embroidery would have to be done again. He liked Ning-shijie and might even, one day, forgive her for this disaster.

Worst of all, he couldn't hear a word from above, so either it wasn't as if he could use this opportunity to eavesdrop.

With his precious burden — three kittens — stuffed down the front of his robes, he began the long, indecorous wiggle back out. With the hard part complete, he let his mind wander, vaguely examining the fine construction that went into his wife's home.

Until he might as well as been slapped in the face. Before Meng Mo could realize something more interesting that kittens was happening, he threw up his mental shields.

There, through the raw Barbed Field Sheep's wool that served as insulation, was a complex array carved into the bottom of Shen Yuan's floorboards. There was blood in the grooves, enforcing and powering the spell. Luo Binghe felt his sweat freeze and his chest still for a moment before he was scrambling fiercely out of the crawlspace.

He didn't even care as his robes tore and he felt rocks dig into his flesh. Shen Yuan was in danger! What was this plotline? Did Snowball include anything important in that stupid book?

[twstfanblog]

*~12 Days of Confusion~*

HAPPY HOLIDAYS! Im so happy I managed to get this done in time for Christmas. Hope you guys enjoy this as much as I did writing it! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays~!

Word Count: 9.3K (Hot damn)

Crewel looked across the table, staring at his newly legal daughter (A part of him preening in happiness at being able to proudly claim such a fact). They and Grim had spent the first week of the winter break in his home picking out Yuu’s room in his home and making plans to decorate it to their liking. Something that would make the space all the more welcoming when they came home with him officially for their second try at a summer break. 

What had been framed as a lovely new family moment was stopped when Yuu remarked the room would be a lovely early Christmas gift. Crewel simply asked what Christmas was. Yuu stopped short, staring at him with a blank expression before dropping his book of fabric samples. They stated they needed to do something, their phone being pulled out and typed on at a frightening speed.

Now his child had spent the last few days pouring over various party rental services and odd emails with animal supply chains.

He sighs, sipping his coffee and looking from the corner of his eye to Grim, the dire beast having joined Yuu in whatever elaborate prank they were scheming up with an almost laser focus. He was even practicing a summoning spell of all things. 

Crewel places his mug down, “Puppy. I know you're focused on surprising your friends by visiting them. But you still…haven’t told me what Christmas is.”

Yuu doesn't look up from writing in their mini planner, “It's a holiday.”

“...” Crewel sipped loudly at his rum-laced coffee, hoping Yuu would understand he was waiting for them to continue. When they don't,  he rolls his eyes, reaching across the table and closing the planner to gain their attention, “I need more context than that, puppy.”

Crewel pulls the planner away as Yuu reached to reopen it. He tilts his head, raising an eyebrow at the growling teen in front of him. Once they stopped he tapped the planner on top of their head, “Speak.”

Yuu rolled their eyes, leaning against their open palm and waved their other hand around as they explained, “In my world it's a Pagan winter holiday that was commercialized by Western society in the 1950s or something for reasons I didn’t care to learn out. Just know, I’m doing a funny, Kalim agreed to pay for the stuff-”

“About that. Stop taking money from the Asim boy. At this point, I can only call it bullying how much you’ve managed to get from him.” Crewel mentally marked down ‘Pagan’ as something for Trein to ask Yuu about later, the two history buffs can spend a few hours chatting about it so he can get nice and New Year's drunk.

“I’m not taking money from Kalim…I’m asking for it and he’s simply giving me what I ask for.”

Crewel huffs, rolling his eyes so hard his head moved in the motion before he trained his eyes back onto Yuu, “Same thing, puppy…”

“Anyway.” Yuu reaches over, snatching the planner from Crewel’s hands and opening the book. They slap it to the table, smiling as they gestured for Crewel to read it over, “I’m going to be in and out of the house delivering Christmas cheer to my lovely friends over the next few weeks, whether they like it or not.”

He looked over the blocked-out days, twelve was a strange build-up time. He assumed he didn't know how to celebrate Christmas and the dates were important for reasons he didn't understand. But, looking closer at what was written, he sighed and stood. Walking to his kitchen liquor cabinet he mused in his head. He loved his child, he truly did. But, he would never understand why they couldn't spend one holiday without causing a chaotic scramble.

☆~12th Day~☆

Malleus was not rushing. He'd deal with his grandmother scolding him for running through the halls at a later time, a later time when his lovely child of man wasn't waiting for his presence. Later, he would wonder why he didn't just teleport to the heavily guarded mirror chamber in his family's castle, but for now he could only smile seeing his lover waiting patiently for him.

He barely slows his strides, only coming to a stop as he scoops Yuu into his arms, holding them close and spinning them both in his embrace. He pulls away from their neck to press a kiss to their lips. Only when Lilia coughs does he realize how long he's been kissing them.

As they pull away, Yuu takes a deep breath, face red from lack of air and the intensity, “Hey, Peligroso…missed you too, babes.” They laugh, pressing one last kiss to the purring dragon's face before they pulled away, waving to the three retainers standing just off to the side, “Hi guys!”

The rest of the Diasomnia crew waved with pleasant smiles, each in various tiers of noble-looking winter wear to protect from the large open archways of the mirror chamber. Well, everyone was waving except Sebek. But Yuu would give the crocodile half-fae a pass. The poor guy was clearly shaking so hard he almost seemed to be vibrating in the cold, arms locked tight to his body to keep some form of warmth.

Yuu snickered, looking away as Sebek's face soured, knowing they were laughing at his shivering, “Ok, let me do this fast so Sebek doesn't freeze and die.”

“HUMAN, YOU'RE TRULY SLOW IF YOU THINK THIS WOULD BE ENOUGH TO-”

Yuu had already started to push away from Malleus's hold before Sebek even opened his mouth, alerting the dragon fae they were trying to leave his embrace. While he pouted, he still put them down as they wished. Yuu pulled a pitch pipe from their jacket pocket, blowing on it sharply enough that the note made everyone in the area jump.

Smiling, Yuu snapped their fingers to the mirror, a dozen of green and black suit-dressed men marching from behind it in perfect lines of six. They didn't let their friends have a moment to question, breaking into a song accompanied by the drummers playing in an unfamiliar pattern, “On the 12th day from Christmas, my true love gave to me~...” They spread their arms wide, gesturing to the lines of drummers beside them, “Twelve drummers drumming~...”

…

Yuu smiled, dropping their arms as the drummers continued in their beat, “So anyway, I'm gonna go greet Granny Draconia. Enjoy your gift Malleus, you get them for the rest of the day!” They shouted over their shoulder, walking deeper into the castle without them.

Malleus looked after them in confusion. While the song and the gift were delightful in their own right he was…confused. What is Christmas? Why drummers? Why twelve of them?

Lilia speaks from beside him, his whisper somehow heard over Sebek's yelling for the musicians to stop, “Malleus, were you supposed to gift Yuu something in return?”

…

By the Seven, was he!?

Panic flickered over his expression as his thoughts raced. Oh Lords, was he meant to also give a gift of 12 drummers? Did he need to gift more drummers? Other musicians? What was Christmas!?

Malleus rushed after the now sprinting figure of his beloved, “Yuu! Yuu! Come back, we must speak about this gift!” He knew he'd easily catch them, the real battle was getting them to talk.

☆~11th Day~☆

Azul was happy to be home, he truly was. What he wasn’t happy about was acting as an extra eight hands for one of his mother’s smaller, more family-focused restaurant locations as a waiter. Why he couldn’t be in the back and cooking was beyond him. His mother had stated she wanted everyone to see just how handsome her son had become. Something that continued to mortify him as she pulled him front and center to her friends and their children.

The newly crafted Bubble Swimways were nice, finally allowing abroad students safety from the harsh winter currents and the ability to return home for break. Jade and Floyd were more than ecstatic to be able to spend the winter holiday with their family again. Azul was as well, of course…But hearing the two eels cackling behind their hands at his misery from their booth, Azul wished he had the school given power to teach them a lesson…

His stormy mood only grows worse at hearing the sea glass chime of the door opening, knowing it was potentially either an old schoolmate or one of his mother’s friends. He turns only to freeze, a genuine smile growing on his face once he fully recognizes the person in front of him, “Yuu-”

“SHRIMPY~!” Floyd had swam so fast he was only a blur, quickly wrapping around the small technicolor body of a Shrimpmer Yuu. The eel giggled, nuzzling into Yuu’s face before pushing away to look at them clearly, “Ah~, You really are a shrimpy!”

Jade swam over, smiling as he reached out to tug playfully on one of the teal antennae sprouting from their head, “A rather dangerous shrimp at that.”

Azul had to admit, Yuu was a very dangerous shrimp as a mer; A Mantis Shrimp. He cleared his throat and moved his body closer to the mini-reunion, “I believe I saw them first you two…”

Floyd rolled his eyes, a scoff turning into a hiccuping laugh as he swam away, Jade not far after him as he placed a hand to his chest, “Our apologies, Azul. Please, enjoy your shrimp.”

Yuu swims forward, spinning to show off their form and posing, “So~? Am I good looking or would I need to come with a side of fries for you to order me off the menu?”

“Hm…” one of Azul’s tentacles reaches out, wrapping around their tail and flipping them upside down before placing them back, “I would ask what grading system they're using; you're rather small. Not to mention how much you cost. Good shrimp aside, if the price is high I would expect decent fries as a side dish at least.”

“WOW.”

“But! If it were you, I'd order every time.” Azul couldn't bring himself to care that they were in public, pulling them close to press a kiss to their shoulder. His lips trailing up their neck as they giggle before he kisses them properly for a few moments. Pulling away, he keeps his arms and a few tentacles wrapped around them, “What brings you here, my pearl? I'm not upset about the visit, but you didn't even call.”

Yuu holds up a finger, gesturing behind them to a group outside of the restaurant. Azul made note of eleven mer swimming in, each with a flute or recorder in hand. He watches in confusion as Yuu pulls a pitch pipe from their cleavage, flinching a bit as they blow into it so close to his face.

“On the 11th day from Christmas, my true love gave to me~...” Yuu leaned back from Azul’s arms, gesturing to the musicians playing in time with the strange melody Yuu was singing in, “Eleven pipers piping~...”

…

Azul looked at Yuu's smiling face, confusion clear in his expression, “What?”

Yuu kissed Azul's face, waving over the twins to pull them away, “Just think of them as free entertainment for the day. A gift from me to you~.”

“Yuu, what is Christmas and why did you rent me the most unbalanced ensemble?”

He tried to hold onto them, he really did. But the Tweels were faster than him, tugging Yuu clean from his suckers and all laughing as they swam around the area away from him and his questions.

“I-GET BACK HERE!?”

☆~10th Day~☆

The Isle of Woe wasn't an actual place to vacation, but thanks to his sisters wearing their parents down, Cater was free to spend winter break with his boyfriend. Cater worked equally as hard to convince Idia to help him make his idea a reality. Their moms would get along amazingly! Their dads could work in silence away from everyone else and claim they were bonding when asked later. His sisters would be all over Ortho, he was adorable and so high-energy!

And, as he expected, once the Diamond family crew was welcomed to a secured STYX-sponsored rental home, their families molded together perfectly.

Idia sighed, typing at his desk with lightning speed, “I admit…this team match is killer. I honestly couldn't have thought of it even with a guide.” He looks over his shoulder, smiling as he watches Cater on his bed taking selfies.

The redhead smiles, winking at his phone before looking over to Idia, “Told ya babes. Cay-Cay knows how to match people up! Plus…” He pulls his phone closer, doing minor editing on his photos before opening his Magicam, “We get left alone from our families for a few hours per day.”

“That is nice…I do miss hanging out with Ortho…But your sisters are…really loud though…”

“Tell me about it…” Cater taps at his phone with a focused expression before he raises an eyebrow to his boyfriend, “Ok, seriously. I know you joked about having the fastest Wi-Fi in Twisted Wonderland, but is it so fast it's putting my tags in before I even type them?”

Idia snickered, turning back to type, “Nah. That was a joke…the AI text bot though…”

“The what now?”

Idia’s computer makes a ping, a simplified animated version of Ortho jumps around excitedly. The large icon of a video icon shaking in a speech bubble attached to the chibi.  Accepting the video call, Ortho waved gleefully on the screen.

“ Nii-San! Come outside and bring Cater-San, we have a guest!” Just as fast as Idia had answered, Ortho ended the call.

Cater rolled off the bed, stretching his limbs with a groan, “Well, let's go see them. They came all this way to visit after all.”

“Cater, I don't have friends who actually know my name and your family signed NDAs to not tell anyone about this place. I have no idea who came to visit.”

“Aw…You know who came to visit…” Cater smiles, shaking his head as the horror slowly overcomes his boyfriend's face. He grabbed onto Idia’s hand, tugging the mumbling taller boy out of his chair and toward the door, “Come on.”

Walking into the ‘Commons Area’, Idia and Cater watched in amazement as a group of men were jumping around and performing parkour on the surrounding ledges and stray floating platforms. Each were in what appeared to be STYX-issued jumpsuits and wearing high-tech-looking boots. Idia racked his brain, finding the boots' design familiar as Cater took his phone out to record.

“O.M.S! This is so cool! I have to get this for my Cam~!” 

The single blow of a pitch pipe brought the room to order. Yuu, who was just to the side of them now with Ortho in tow, smiling at their confused faces. Sharing a glance with their robotic friend, they started to sing together.

“On the 10th day from Christmas, my true love gave to me~...” Yuu and Ortho gesture to the performers, the men jumping in a practiced manner, “Ten lords a leaping~!”

Cater ooed and awed, holding his phone in one hand to snap his other in place of clapping, “So cool! Did you get these guys as an early New Year's present?”

Idia looked at the leaping men, watching them double jump using the boots, “What is Christmas…? And why are you here?”

Ortho floated closer, smiling and clasping his hands together, “Yuu called me saying she wanted to give us a gift! They explained their idea and I used one of your scrapped invention ideas, Nii-san! I just fixed a few things and here we are. Isn't it cool?”

Cater laughed, moving his phone to catch as many of the ‘leaping lords’ on video, “Totes cool! Do you think I can get a pair of those boots, Ortho?”

“Sure!”

Idia looked at Yuu, feeling unease at their smile, “...How did you get here?”

Yuu smiles back, whispering under her breath so that Cater and Ortho couldn't hear her over their gushing, “I'll never tell…”

☆~9th Day~☆

Harveston was always beautiful in the winter. Busy. But beautiful. Epel sighed out, reaching to a tree and twisting an apple from the branch. Taking a bite from the treat, reaching up with his free hand to pick another apple for his basket.

He had been sent out by his mother to gather a number of apples for a batch of emergency jam. A gift idea for the gift-giving party Yuu had invited them to. Kinda short notice if Epel was concerned, he only had a week to find a bunch of presents for their massive group of friends/acquaintances and their younger siblings. Who even has a party on the 24th of all days?

The peace was broken, hearing his mother calling for him all the way back at the house. He wasn't taking that long to pick apples was he? In brief panic, he managed to grab a few more before dismounting his ladder and rushing back. But to his surprise, he found his whole family outside, a familiar black-furred dot among them being hugged and fussed over.

Epel smiled, picking up speed, “Yuu!” He shoved the basket into his cousin's arms just in time to slam into a hug with the magicless mage. Both of them laughing as they tried to overpower and swing the other off their feet. 

He only pulled away as his father jokingly stated they were going to hurt themselves if they didn't stop. Epel kept his hands gripped to Yuu's shoulders, “What're ya doin’ hur? Ah thought Ah'd see ya on the 24th, not at mah house!”

Yuu giggled, always loving Epel's accent in its natural state, “I come with a gift, my country friend.” They gesture behind them, Epel finally taking notice of the nine elegantly, but still warmly, dressed women.

“...” Epel leans forward, whispering to Yuu, “Ya know ah like boys, right?”

The prefect didn't answer, pulling out a pitch pipe from seemingly nowhere and blowing into it, calling the woman to attention. Yuu takes the position to construct them, keeping them in tempo as they sang.

“On the 9th day from Christmas, my true love gave to me~. Nine ladies dancing~.” 

…

Yuu and the ladies do a bow, prompting Epel's family to clap and cheer for the mini-performance. Epel's aunt had walked up to one of the dancers, commenting on the quality of their skirt covers.

Epel walks to Yuu, raising an eyebrow and whispering under his breath, “Why did ya bring a buncha ladies as a gift? What am ah suppose’ ta do with a buncha ladies?”

“I don't know, Epel.” Yuu spoke in their normal tone, not trying to hide their conversation and calling attention from the others, “Maybe one of them will teach you how to fucking respect women.”

One of the older dancers raises her hand, smiling as Epel's cousin plays with the pom-poms attached to her hair, “I can do that!” She nods at Marja, beaming at the older woman, “I have three boys at home.”

“OH! That's a handful!” Marja laughs, gesturing to the town hall, “Let's get you ladies inta the hall. We can get the neighbors all together and teach ya gals some Harveston dances!”

Epel watched in confusion as his family, Yuu, and the dancers all made their way to the town hall. Leaving him in confusion as questions started to arise in his head.

“...Wait a minute…Yuu! What's this Christmas thing!?” Seeing how no one had even turned around at his yell, he started to run after them with a scowl on his face, “...Yuu!?”

☆~8th Day~☆

The Sunset Savana never got snow. Except that one year, but that was later exposed as a political attack. So, sometimes Ruggie forgot about the holiday season. The weather was the same as always, food was his main concern as always. If it wasn't for the yearly banquet his village took part in at one of the bigger settlements, he'd really treat the new year as another day.

But, since going to Night Raven, he's made it his personal mission to bring in a big haul of treats for all of the village kids at every break. Though he's lost the magic of the ‘winter season’, doesn't mean the little rugrats he took care of needed to lose it.

So he was a whole new shade of surprised when he walked out of his humble home to a large crowd. Pushing through his neighbors, he blinked in confusion at the eight finely dressed women milking eight massive cows. Looking over, he stared as a number of kids took turns gently petting at a herd of baby cows in a makeshift petting zoo.

“...” He looked to one of the people beside him, “What-”

“Ruginald!”

The name made it easy to tell who was there. He smiled, opening his arms and accepting the hug from Yuu, “What are you doing here? Don't tell me I'm late for your party. You said the 24th.”

Yuu pulled away from the hug, “Oh, it is. This is just a fun thing I'm doing leading up to it.”

“The last time you did a ‘fun thing’ like a third of the school got food poisoning.”

The violent shushing Yuu did was plenty to make Ruggie shut his mouth. He raised an eyebrow, folding his arms in amusement as he watched Yuu pull out a pitch pipe. His ears pressed against his head just lightly at the tune.

“On the 8th day from Christmas, my true love gave to me~...”

Yuu gestured to the eight women in a line. The group of them managing to squeeze milk into their buckets in time with Yuu's song.

“Eight maids a milking~!” They looped their arm around his shoulders, whispering as they both watched the women pass around the buckets of milk to people asking for them, “This isn't a hand out. I just thought you'd appreciate the free milk for everybody more than anyone else would…”

Ruggie watched the kids petting the calves and hounding their parents for a sip of the fresh milk, smiling as they got scolded but promised a glass once they had safely pasteurized it, “Yeah…Yeah, I do. Thanks.”

The wholesome vibe hadn't ended once Yuu had gone home later that night, a fresh donut bitten between their teeth. His grandmother had made batch after batch of donuts for everyone to enjoy along with their fresh glasses of milk. A kid had sleepily tugged on Ruggie’s shirt, a mug of warm milk in his hands as he quietly asked him what Christmas was. Only when he tried to reply did Ruggie realize Yuu never fucking told him what a Christmas was…

☆~7th Day~☆

Vil wasn't happy with Yuu's surprise party invitation. He already had a strict schedule to keep during his break and it was hell trying to plan a free day. But, curse him if he ever missed an event his Onion was excited to host, even if it was just to critique it. However, when they called and stated they also had a surprise gift to bring him, he had simply dropped the location of the condo his and Rook's family had chosen to vacation in. Mild weather, warm yet not hot and lushed rolling hills surrounding them.

Rook's siblings were odd to him, though just as endearing as his boyfriend. Somehow refined, yet Vil could see that same feral energy Rook had in all of their eyes. His eldest brother, Bishop, somehow being an even more flirty version of his brother. The early 20's man had kept a constantly filled glass of wine since breakfast that morning, taking turns waxing poetic about the most asinine things with Rook.

Vil would take sitting with the two poets over the younger siblings and their pocket knives or his father, Rook's parents, and Rook's eldest sister bemoaning their youth good-naturedly.

He only noticed a lull in Rook and Bishop's conversation as they both turned to the open balcony doors. Vil followed them as they both stood to look over the railing.

The view made Vil almost choke, nearly falling off the railing as he leaned over to yell, “What are you doing!?”

Yuu stood at the edge of the small pond in the front yard of the property, smiling and waving as seven swans were seen swimming, “Hi~!”

Rook waves back, beaming down to the freshman, “Bonjour, mon vieille amor!”

Bishop sipped from his glass, “Ah~. Such a cute little sister you have, Vil.”

“They're not- Yuu! Get away from those swans, I've warned you that they're dangerous heathens!”

Yuu simply held up a finger, pulling out a pitch pipe to blow a single note before they started to sing, “On the 7th day from Christmas, my true love gave to me-Ah!” They quickly sidestepped a swan moving to bite at their leg. Grumbling as they gently nudged the large bird back into the water to swim with the others. Once the aggressive fowl was back to swimming peacefully, they turned back to the balcony, smiling and gesturing to the pond, “Seven swans a swimming~!”

…

Both Rook and Bishop start to clap, the two bold gold blondes cheering for the small performance as Yuu playfully bowed. 

Vil groaned, clicking his tongue and tapping his nails on the railing harshly, “That was poor grammar. Now get up here!”

Yuu rolled her eyes, moving quickly as another swan swam out of the pond to try to bite them again, “Just because you had a traumatic experience with a swan doesn't make them evil!”

“I told you that in confidence! And, while it doesn't make them evil, it makes you a dimwit for not heeding my warnings!”

With a comical gasp, Yuu raised their voice louder as they entered the condo, “Mr. Shoenheit! Vil's being mean to me!”

From deeper in the house, his father's voice came from around the corner, “Vil, be nice to Yuu!”

“...” Vil turned to Rook and Bishop, expression in a state of stunned, “I'm an only child. I'm an only child.”

Bishop giggled, sharing a look with Rook as he raised his glass to his smiling lips, “Are you sure?”

☆~6th Day~☆

Riddle sipped at his tea, smiling as a new plate of cookies was placed on the table. “Thank you for allowing me in your home Ms. Trappola. It's very lovely.”

Helen Trappola smiled, waving off Riddle's comments, “Oh, it's no trouble! I'm just glad this one actually has friends.”

“Mom.” Ace huffed, pouting as his mother roughly messed up his hair.

Trey grabbed one of the cookies, smiling at Ace’s frown, “I'm more glad that you actually managed to get Ms. Rosehearts to agree Riddle could come…”

She just waved again, though her smile turned into a copy of Ace’s own mischievous grin, “Don't worry about it. Mama Trappola isn't the top cosmetic saleswoman of Fairest Wares without having exceptional persuasion skills.”

Ace mutters under his breath for her to not call herself ‘Mama Trappola’. 

Riddle gave him a disapproving glance from the corner of his eyes. Sipping at the tea while grabbing a few cookies for his own plate, “Yes. Not only did you convince my mother to let me out of the house for a few hours, you also talked her into buying $400 lipstick…”

Helen smiles, winking as she snaps her fingers to shoot the small redhead finger guns, “And she's gonna look amazing in it.”

“Mom, can you leave?”

She responded with a swift slap to the back of Ace’s head, “Ok! You kids have a fun time! Just yell if you need more snacks!” She walked out from the living room, walking back up the stairs to give them privacy. 

Huffing, Ace sipped his tea, “So annoying.”

Deuce clicked his tongue, stopping abruptly from drinking his tea and glaring at Ace, “Your mom is really nice, show some respect.”

Riddle and Trey spoke up in unison, “Indeed.”

Ace rolled his eyes, grabbing a cookie to gnaw on it in annoyance, “When is Yuu showing up? I'm sick of you guys ganging up on me.”

At the mention of Yuu, Riddle raised his head, “Oh! Ace, do you have cocoa? Yuu isn't fond of tea so they might appreciate a second beverage option.”

He nudged his head to the hall leading deeper into the house, “Yeah. The container should be on the counter already.”

Riddle stood to prepare the drink, raising an eyebrow as Trey followed him to the kitchen, “I think I can manage to make a pot of hot chocolate alone, Trey…”

“I'm just…supporting.” Trey smiled at the scolding glare Riddle shot at him, only to laugh when the short redhead didn't stop him from following.

While Trey and Riddle were busy in the kitchen, Ace and Deuce perked up at the knock on the door. Ace stands, smiling as he opened the door only to have it drop at what he saw.

Yuu stood smiling, six unknown adults behind them each with a small goose in their arms. The people walked in, brushing past Ace’s confused rambling and placing the geese in various locations before leaving. Yuu closed the door behind them, pulling out a pitch pipe and blowing.

Ace glared, gesturing to his living room now populated by a family of geese, “Don't you sing a little fucking song! Explain yourself!”

“On the 6th day from Christmas, my true love gave to me~!”

Deuce cautiously reached a hand toward a goose beside him, pulling his hand away as it tried to nip at his fingers, “Christmas?”

“Six geese a laying~.”

…

Ace looked at the geese, eyes wide seeing a number of them resting on his mom's favorite couch, “Laying?”

Deuce called out to the kitchen hoping Riddle and Trey could hear him, “Rosehearts-Senpai!? Is there a Queen's Rule about geese!?”

There was a beat of silence before Riddle's voice called back, “Well, rule 365 does state that a rogue floating goose may stay in the home for the night but only during the winter and only if the teapot has been stirred counterclockwise. If that answers your question.”

“...” Deuce took the time to grab the teapot, spinning it a few times counterclockwise before speaking again, “I guess…but what do we do with them now!?”

“...Do with whom?

“The geese!?”

“...” There was a heavy clatter, as though something was dropped and barely caught in time, “There are actual geese inside!?”

Yuu grabbed a cookie from the plate at the table, smiling as Ace yelled from the couch.

“OW! One of these fuckers just bit me!”

☆~5th Day~☆

The past week had been concerning for Jamil. Azul and Malleus had sent him numerous messages and calls asking if he knew what Yuu was doing. The magicless mage visiting them and bringing strange gifts with no explanation. Malleus was particularly worried, unknowing if he was supposed to give them a certain gift in return. He had spoken to Yuu about it, only for them to instantly try to gaslight him into thinking they did no such thing. Like there weren't numerous eyewitnesses to back up such claims… So he just assumed they were finding ways to entertain themselves over the break (since they weren't being held captive this winter…).

So when Yuu came to visit him, luckily with no ensemble of musicians, he chose to not bring up the odd events. After bringing a tray to his room, sharing the drinks and snacks with his date-mate, they moved to the bed.

Though Yuu joked about it, Jamil was not going to do any kind of sexual act with them in his home while his entire family plus a ⅓ of Kalim's younger siblings were on the grounds. So instead they cuddled, holding each other in the warm sun from his window and almost drifting into sleep. Jamil breathed out, fully relaxed as he gently rubbed his thumb against Yuu's bicep.

“Oh…I almost forgot I have something for you…” Yuu reaches behind them, a hand digging into their back pocket and pulling something out. They grab his hand, placing a collection of something small and cool into his palm. 

Jamil opens his eyes to look at what Yuu gifted him, eyes widening as he fully registers what it was. In his hands were five stunningly gold rings, each with artful designs carved in the metal, gemstones embedded on a few of them. They seemed to almost glow in his hands just from how shiny they were.

“I…Yuu-”

In his confusion, Yuu had also pulled out a pitch pipe, blowing into it but not lifting their head from Jamil’s chest as they sang, “On the 5th day from Christmas, my true love gave to me~...”

Jamil sat up so fast that he would have nearly launched Yuu clean off his bed if he didn't have an arm still locked around them. In the pause of Yuu's song, his sister and a number of the Asim children she was babysitting all sprang out of hiding spaces in his room. All of them yelling as loudly as they could, Jamil just barely made out Yuu's sleepy singing.

“Five. Golden. Rings~...!”

Once the song ended there was silence, everyone going back into their hiding spots. Jamil sat in his bed stunned with the rings still in his palms, “I…Where'd you-hold on. Get out of my room!?”

Jamil glares, watching as Najma exits his closet with a few of Kalim's siblings, more of the preteens giggling as they crawl out of other hiding spots.

Yuu called out, raising a hand to wave after Najma, “Thanks for the assist girlie~.”

Najma waved back, making sure she had all of her charges before closing the door slowly, “My brother doesn’t deserve you, bestie~.”

Jamil growled out, pointing at his sister in a threatening manner, “Get out.” He scoffed as Najma flipped him off before closing the door finally. He raised an eyebrow, looking at Yuu still resting contently on his chest, “Yuu, what the fuck was that? Where did you get these rings?”

“What rings?”

“The rings in my hand, Yuu.”

“Wow, Jamil, those are beautiful. Where did you get them?”

“If I didn’t love you, I would throw you into traffic…”

☆~4th Day~☆

Home was a sensitive subject to Leona. He had spent so much time at Night Raven over the past few years that it had become his own lesser version of home. Not really in the reality of the situation, but it was good enough at the time. But, after his overblot, and a few months of mandated therapy during the last summer, he actually felt happy returning home for winter break.

At the very least, the Sunset Savana only had one pest who wouldn't leave him alone that he couldn’t escape. Or so he thought.

Sleeping in his room, Leona groaned at feeling a weight sitting close to him on the mattress. When they didn't leave after a few aggressive hits with his tail he opened his eyes in annoyance. That feeling only grew seeing Yuu sitting on the mattress with a smile.

“Hi~.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Cheka popped up from the bedside, eyes wide and brows furrowed in scolding as he pointed to his uncle, “Oji-Tan! That's a bad word!”

Leona scoffs, rubbing the back of his head as he slowly sat up, “What bad word? I said fudge…” He looked away from Cheka's pout, yawning loudly, “What do you two annoyances want?”

“Oji-Tan! We have a present for you! Yuu-Tan said I can help give it! Can we do it now? Please!? Please!?”

“For the love of the Seven, fine. Just stop screaming, you're two feet away from me Cheka.”

“Okay!” Cheka beamed up to Yuu, hands gripping onto the sleeve of Yuu's shirt dress as he jumped in excitement, “Yuu-Tan! I'm ready!”

Yuu giggled, grabbing Cheka and pulling him into their lap as a means to keep his energy contained, “Alright…” Pulling the pitch pipe from their pocket, they blew it carefully, keeping note of Cheka's still-developing ears.

Once the note was set, both Cheka and Yuu started to sing. Cheka louder than Yuu, only tripping up slightly at the unfamiliar word, “On the 4th day from Christmas, my true love gave to me~...”

Just then the door burst open, four discontented-looking attendants entered the room with four large bird cages. Inside each was a loudly cawing blackbird, the sound making Leona's eye twitch. 

“Four calling birds-”

“Why the fuck did you bring four Ibis birds into my room?”

“Oji-Tan!”

Leona clicks his tongue, ears pressed to his head as the birds kept up their noise, “I said Fudge. Answer me, Feral.”

“It's a gift. Now you won't have to worry about oversleeping.”

“I won't have to worry about sleeping, period.”

The sound of rushing footsteps managed to echo over the cawing birds. Falena slid into the open doorway, a beaming smile on his face and a few boxes of board games in his arms, “Oh good! You're awake, Leona!”

Leona puts his head in his hands, a growl easing into a frustrated yell. He wanted to go back to Night Raven…

☆~3rd Day~☆

Kalim bounced in his seat, smiling at the large box in Yuu's hands. He was so upset when he learned they had visited earlier that week, even more so to hear he had missed a fun prank they pulled on Jamil. But now, Yuu was back in the Scalding Sands with a gift in hand for him!

Yuu bit her lip, trying to keep her laughter down, “Are you excited Kalim?”

“Yes! Please, I wanna see what the prank is!”

Yuu can't help but laugh, placing the box down and slapping Kalim's overzealous fingers away from opening it, “You're the only Night Raven boy I know who's excited to be pranked. But, ok, I'll do this fast so you don't explode.” Out comes the pitch pipe, a note blown crisp and clear before Yuu sings for the nearly vibrating Kalim.

“On the 3rd day from Christmas, my true love gave to me~...” They pull the lid from the box, showing three small-sized black and white spotted chickens. Each of them with a golden and burgundy colored beret affixed to their heads, “Three French hens~!”

“Ah~! Yuu. They're so cute!” Kalim stood, instantly reaching into the box and pulling out a chicken to hold. He giggled letting the young bird peck at his finger before it calmed down, “But what makes them…what did you say? French? What makes them French?”

Yuu scoffed, folding their arms and frowning, “Kalim, do you not see their delightful little hats? Do my efforts mean nothing to you?”

“...” Kalim looked closer at the chickens trying to see what his friend meant. It took him a bit, but he yelled as he realized, “Oh right! You call Florian ‘French’. Ok, I get it. Hahaha, thank you so much, Yuu! Can I keep these little guys? I think they'd love my aviary!”

Yuu shrugs, picking up the box of chickens as Kalim was already walking to said aviary with the last bird in hand, “I mean, go for it. I'll send you the bill for the purchase.”

“Are these really Florian hens? I didn't think there was a Florian chicken…”

“They're actually some kinda Shaftland breed.”

“Oh! How fun!” Kalim didn't get the prank. He also had no idea what ‘Christmas’ was. But Yuu was his friend and wanted to spend time with him, so he didn't mind the moments of confusion that normally came with the magicless mage. Plus, they were always fun to be around!

☆~2nd Day~☆

“Silver…Silver.” Yuu gently slaps at the ivory-haired man sleeping peacefully. Groaning, Yuu tries to shake Silver awake. Their plan wasn't going to work if the second year didn't wake up.

At another slap, Silver finally opened his eyes, blinking slowly as his brain refused to fully wake up. In his half-conscious state, his eyes managed to at least focus on the blurry black form beside his bed, “...Yuu?”

Yuu pulls out their pitch pipe, blowing softly so as to not startle Silver  fully awake. They opened their mouth, poised to sing only to struggle holding in their laughter as Silver whistled in response to the note in perfect pitch.

“...” Once calmed, Yuu started to sing, “On the 2nd day from Christmas, my true love gave to me~...”

Silver blinked, almost like it was a frame-by-frame animation on the slowest setting, “...I don’t feel about you…that way…I'm sorry…”

Yuu snorted, a hand moving to cover their mouth in an effort to not laugh in Silver's face. As they got themselves under control again, they pulled out two small white birds from their coat. Placing them gently in front of the sleepily bewildered-looking Silver as they finished, “Two turtle doves~...”

The blink this time was so long Yuu had actually worried Silver had fallen back asleep. But, once again, Silver opened his eyes, earning a chirp from one of the birds as it nuzzled into Silver.

“Oh…thank you…they're lovely…”

Yuu petted Silver's hair, standing from their crouched position with a small smile, “Go back to sleep, Silver.”

“...Okay…” and just like that. Silver closed his eyes, breathing out a long sigh that set him back to lightly snoring as he drifted into slumber.

Only hours later, when Lilia returned from an outing with Baul did Silver realize that Yuu had actually broken into his father's home. With two birds at that…

☆~Last Day~☆

Yuu's surprise winter seasonal party had been wonderful so far. The rented cabin was massive, with plenty of space for all twenty-two of them and the secondary group of younger children running around. Though confused, the big brothers of the group couldn't deny that Yuu was correct in insisting the kids all join in their party. A Christmas Party, whatever that was. But for the past few hours, they had all come together to bake and decorate cookies. Decorating a large evergreen tree with sparkling blubs and tinsel ropes. Not to mention they were instructed to place their gifts under said tree. Now the kids were on the floor beside the fireplace, glue and other craft objects scattered as they made their own custom ‘stockings’ to hang along the mantel.

No one wanted to question it anymore. Not since giving up on learning why Yuu had felt the need to visit them for the past two weeks to deliver their bizarre gifts. Something that Jack was surprised to hear about, seeing how he hadn't been visited by Yuu at all. Only to regret such a statement as Yuu stood in front of him with a smile.

“Jack? Can you follow me outside, into the dark woods, alone?”

“...” Jack sighed. Whatever Yuu had planned, he wasn't strong enough to really fight it. Not after being force-fed cookies that were more frosting than cookie from his overzealous siblings. He turned to Trey, whispering under his breath, “If Yuu kills me, please make sure my siblings brush their teeth before bed.”

Trey smiled good-naturedly, guiding the wolf children to his own younger siblings with practiced ease, “I'll even make sure they floss.”

“I'm not asking for a miracle, Senpai…” Jack stood up, grabbing his coat to follow Yuu into the dark snow.

Jack followed Yuu through the cold fluff, huffing and tensing up more and more the farther they walked away from the cabin's light. He quickly pulled his phone from his pocket, sending a message to the group chat of the other first years, ‘If I don't come back, I love you guys.’

Sebek replies first, ‘Do you honestly think that human could kill you?’

Epel sent a single heart emoji before typing out a reply, ‘Sebek. Didn't yuu bust ur kidneys in a one on one?’

‘That event doesn't pertain to this conversation.’

Jack stops short, putting his phone back into his coat jacket as Yuu stops in front of a gathering of evergreen branches. He sighed, wanting to step away as Yuu pulled out a pitch pipe with what he could only call a sinister smile, “Oh Seven, please don't sing-”

The note plays clean and quick, making Jack's ears fold down at the noise.

“On the last day from Christmas, my true love gave to me~...”

Jack mutters under his breath. “What the hell is Christmas…?”

Yuu pulls a branch away. Showing a small clearing with a singular medium-sized Pear tree, decorated just as fanciful as the evergreen in the cabin. Jack looks into the tree with a critical eye seeing something moving around. While he would love to watch Yuu get spooked by a lone squirrel, he didn't want to deal with Yuu's scream potentially causing an avalanche.

“Uh…Yuu-”

“A partridge in a pear tree~!”

Once Jack clearly sees the bird in the tree he glares at Yuu, “How did you get this tree here?”

Yuu's smile quickly falls off their face, expression showing how annoyed they were, “Jack, you are being so fucking ungrateful.”

“No, tell me how you got this tree up here. Who helped you with this prank? It wasn't funny.”

“Ungrateful. I did this specifically for you. You like pears!”

“That bird looks terrified. What did you do to it?”

☆○~○☆

The walk back to the cabin was full of bickering, Jack holding the shivering Quail in his arms as he scolded Yuu for having the bird out in the cold. Once they both entered the cabin, Yuu slammed the door shut behind them and they shouted out.

“Leona! Get ya boy, he's being ungrateful!”

Leona didn't move from drinking a bottle of amber liquid. Seemingly trying to get drunk to block out the sound of the children squealing in delight. Ruggie however looked over, the snicker stopping as he looked at what was in Jack's arms.

“...Is that a quail?”

The bottle left his mouth before he could fully tip it upright, Leona looked to Jack as liquor dribbled down his chin, “They gave away another fucking bird?”

“OJI-TAN.”

“Fudging bird.”

Ruggie snickered, the yelling finally bringing the attention of everyone else to the new addition. But Ruggie was laughing at the indication that Leona had also been gifted a bird, “Another bird? You got some fowl gifts there, your Highness?”

Jack huffs, letting an excited Kalim run up and gather the bird out of his arms. The merchant heir quickly showing it to his younger siblings and Lilia as Jack grumbled, “I also own a pear tree in the middle of the mountains now. Don't know how they even got it up here…”

Vil groans from his seat, fingers rubbing at his temples and seamlessly taking the glass of water Rook hands him, “Yuu, enough of your games. What is this Christmas nonsense you've been going on about?”

Yuu pours a glass of sparkling grape juice for themselves, deciding to finally spill the holiday beans, “It's a really popular winter holiday in my world. Once I realized you guys didn't have Christmas here I just wanted to recreate one of my favorite songs. The Twelve Days of Christmas.”

Jamil mutters under his breath, mildly horrified at the idea of a 12-day long holiday as festive as the party was, “Oh Seven, please no…” Please don’t give Kalim any ideas.

Malleus speaks up, concern on his face as he wonders if he was supposed to be celebrating the past eleven days, “Was I supposed to gift you back an ensemble by the 12th day? You stated in your melody that a ‘True Love’ is the one gifting such things, this won't affect our agreement will it?”

Azul perks up, almost panicking at the idea that if he failed to give Yuu a proper ‘True Love’ Christmas present they'd break up with him.

Yuu giggles, waving a hand as a show for their lovers to calm themselves, “It's just a song, no wordplay magicks involved. And even if there were, I wouldn't let you guys go that easily.”

Ace clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes at the brief romantic declaration, “Whatever. The gift kinda sucks though, prefect. Who wants geese of all things?”

Leona freezes mid-drink, raising an eyebrow at Ace, “Geese?”

“Mon Roi and I received a delightful flock of swans!”

“Oh! Yuu got me three hens with cute little hats!”

Epel frowns, turning to face Yuu with a glare, “Why'd you gift me a bunch of LADIES!?”

Yuu held their hands out, calling to calm everyone slowly descending into a shouting match over what the actual ‘Gift’ was, “Ok…we're gonna do the last verse of the song and you all get to hear the wonderful gifts this dude gave to this poor woman over the course of twelve days.” They pulled out their trusty pitch pipe, smiling as they raised their finger to conduct, “When I point, sing what I sung when you got your gift.”

~ 🎶

“On the 12th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me~...”

“...Twelve drummers drumming?” Malleus sang in mild confusion, Sebek almost yelling the phrase as support for Malleus's soft tone. Lilia giggled out the tune, eager to hear the full gift list.

Azul frowned but easily mimicked the melody from before with the twins joining him in glee, “Eleven pipers piping.”

Cater and Ortho joyfully sung their part, Idia between them mumbling out the tune, “Ten lords a leaping!”

Epel flinched, not expecting to be pointed to already, “Nine ladies dancin’?”

“Eight maids a milking?” Ruggie let out a nervous laugh, was the tempo getting faster?

“Seven swans a swimming.” Vil crossed his arms, glaring and saying ‘a swimming’ with a bite as Rook sung it with a grin.

“Six geese a layin’!” The remaining Heartslabyul four all sang out in unison. Riddle taking what little time he had to get the phrasing and melody from Deuce and Ace and give a neat performance.

Jamil sat with his arms crossed, refusing to participate, but was instead dogpiled by a number of Kalim's siblings. Most being the ones who helped Yuu with their prank on him almost a week ago.

“FIVE! GOLDEN! RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINGS!”

“By the seven- Four calling birds- oh my fuc-” Leona and nearly everyone else too close to the pile-up of children had either covered their ears or leaned away from just how loudly they had ‘sung’.

Kalim laughed, clapping in time with the beat of the foreign song, “Three French hens!” 

Silver sat in mild confusion, eyes widening as he remembered, “Two turtle doves…”

Yuu points to Jack, smiling as they teasingly sang out, “And~...”

“...” Jack sighed, ears flicking in annoyance before clicking this tongue and singing through his teeth, “A partridge in a pear tree…”

Yuu cheers, “Yes! I never thought I'd miss hearing Christmas music…” They clap, smiling at their friends' confused faces, “That was perfect! Grim, show the nice people the treats they've won.”

Grim perked up, leaping out of the arms of one of the children, dancing on his toes briefly in a happy jig. “Finally! Watch and be amazed by the Great Grim!” He sucks in a large breath, cheeks puffing up before he lets out a massive ball of fire into the air. The blue flames twist and turn, swirling into a sphere before falling to the ground.

A brief shout of panic passes over the group, everyone moving to shield the children from the potential fire spread. Only to watch as the fireball disappears on contact with the floor, a massive red sack left to bounce once into the air. On the second impact, the top burst open as the weight of it shook the cabin, revealing treats and a plethora of toys. Grim slumps over exhausted. He had been practicing that summoning spell for weeks and it still took a lot of him.

Yuu points to the bag of treats, smiling at the awestruck children, “Those are for you guys, happy holiday.” They all leave their respective siblings' protective embraces, descending upon the bag and nearly climbing inside it to see just how many toys and treats were free for the taking.

Idia blinked, uncurling himself from around Cater as Ortho took his shield down, “Man…talk about a mega item drop…those kids hit the jackpot on holiday loot…”

As everyone calmed down, Deuce looked up from counting on his fingers, mentally figuring out just…how many people and birds in total were ‘gifted’ in the song, “Wait, you said one guy is gifting all of this…to one woman? On the same day?”

“He actually gifts them multiple times for each day. The first eleven are repeated multiple times until you get to the 12th day and then you get the whole song one last time as a gift.”

Riddle realizes why Deuce was distressed. Eyes widening at the number that appeared in his head at the final amount of ‘gifts’, “That's-that's too many birds! Too many birds and too many people, where in Twist is he getting them!?”

Idia groans, sinking into his seat in despair at the very thought of so many people, “Better question is what are you even gonna do with all those birds? Most of them just sound like weak deco items…”

Rook hums, “Well…40 pheasants sounds lovely. Especially for the winter months!”

…

Vil turned to Rook, gently taking the wine glass from his hands, ignoring the Florian laughing at his action, “Rook…there wasn't a single pheasant mentioned in that ghastly song. I think you've had enough for tonight.”

“Oh mon roi! How you care for me so! But, I fear I must correct you. A pheasant is a bird with a golden ring around its neck. I would assume the five golden rings are five pheasants.”

A moment of silence passes over the room. Yuu huffs into their glass, raising an eyebrow at Rook, “I think they're just golden rings, Rook. The song is already weirdly bird heavy as is…”

“But, they are all birds, mon vieille amor?”

…

Epel speaks up, “So…ladies dancing?”

“Cranes.”

“The drummers?” Lilia tilts his head, genuinely curious about the new information on the song.

“Woodpeckers most likely!”

Ortho perks up, eyes almost glowly in his excitement, “Oh! I just did a search. Heron is also known as a ‘leaping lord’ in some parts of the world!”

Floyd pouts, “Eh? What kinda bird is a piper then? Don't they all whistle?”

“Possibly a sandpiper…if we're going by name alone…” Azul pushed his glasses into place. The song…somehow got worse. These were far too many birds…

Leona scratches the back of his head, “Calling bird could be any bird then…”

Vil taps his chin, looking into his cup as he thought, “The song is full of poor grammar. Who's to say it was calling originally? Maybe…coying? Colly? Four coally birds makes the most sense, word-wise at least…”

Yuu frowns, putting their glass on the counter in an aggressive fashion before pointing at Rook's smiling face, “Ok, wise ass. What kinda bird is a ‘maid a milking’ then?”

Rook shrugged, “I would guess a magpie or other dairy-cultured bird.”

…

Everyone watched as Yuu grabbed the whole bottle of sparkling juice, scowling as they stomped to a lone armchair and folded their arms, “This is why we got fucking divorced…”

Cheka instantly turned his attention away from the bag of gifts he was digging around in, instead scolding his pseudo aunt, “ YUU-TAN! THAT'S A BAD WORD!”

Yuu pouted but still called to Cheka, “I'm sorry, Cheka. I'll do better, just enjoy your treats ok?”

Lilia chuckles, floating over and sitting on the back of Yuu's chair, “You said this was your favorite song. I'm guessing there are others then, would you like to share them with us?”

That was the magic switch. Yuu quickly pulled their original phone from their pocket, eyes glittering as they connected to the music system, “Yes! I can tell you guys all about the Christmas Time Curse and Mariah Carey!”

“I'm sorry, Christmas Time Curse!?”

“Is this Mariah woman the one doing the curse or somehow worse than the curse?”

[girlsdogmotif]

HIII!!! YOUR ONE SHOTS ARE SO COOOOL!! LOVE THEM <3333 are you planning on writing series or books? IM SURE THEY COULD BE STUNNING!! Also I saw your recs and THEY ARE SOMETHING 100% MY TASTE, if you cam give me some recs? Preferably if the main characters are males? I don't mind either way tho!! Thank you very much. <3

AHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!! I really need to finish the few one shots I've started and post them because people are actually reading them ! which is crazy ! but makes me very very happy :)

I would definitely be interested in writing some series, once I think of some characters or a rough plot I might try it out, but in the meantime I would also love to continue any one shots I post if people are interested 👀

For my recommendations (which is why this took me a while to get back to apologies):

(also you might have already seen the first few bc I can't stop telling people to read them!!)

@whumblr The "Home is Where the Hurt" series is one of the BEST stories on this app and has the best whump, if you haven't read it yet GO READ, and also "Crossed Out", the main whumpees and whumpers are male in both those series; but I also can't go through a whump rec post without recommending their other series Bookish!

@chaotic-orphan another blog I can't recommend enough, i'm literally part of the #notifcationsquad I'm obsessed with Intoxicating Fear, Vendetta, Defiant Leader x confident villain, Partners in Crime, and everything else as well, Heroic Betrayal is also my ALL TIME fav and features my one of my fav female whumpee Morgan <3 all the stories are somehow both funny and heart wrenching at the same time and I feel like I'm watching a movie every time I read them

@there-will-always-be-blood I talk about The Crow and The Dove so much but I will forever kai and kyriel are so fascinating and the world building is so good in the story and the WHUMP. UGH truly unparalleled. you know it's good characters, world, plot, and writing when I-ME wants a character to have a break and not get tortured more (well okay I also still want him to get tortured more) only thing I will mention is the story does contain nsfw stuff and pretty dark whump but everything is tagged so avoid if it's not your thing but if you're okay with it (and over 18) then I highly recommend!!!!

@defire also has a TON of writing to read, stories, prompts and general whump musings that include some whump tropes that you don't see that often. Back to The Dregs is FANTASTIC angsty and whumpy and it also maybe kinda reminds me of one of the first whump stories I ever read when I was like 11 that was a newsies modern au fan fiction so I think I'm also partial to it

@holidayinhell literally every single piece of writing is so well written and give me whumperflies (do people still say that? I rarely see it anymore, am I old now im 20 I can't be) anyway Role Reversal is so good but THE CLIFFHANGER (nsfw)

@save-the-villainous-cat has such great stuff, really anything you're in the mood for there's a piece for it particularly I love the hero villain stuff

@jumpywhumpywriterlove's Vampire Captures Vampire Hunter to Use as Bloodbag series I def recommend if you like vampires, even if you don't I'd give it a shot, also Drugged Hero Whumpee used as Party Favor at Villain's Party is great. I have to admit I haven't read her whole blog but the few series I've read are amazing and she has SO MUCH WRITING (im not gonna make a Hamilton reference I've already made a newsies reference I've embarrassed my self enough)

and then here's a few other whump blogs that I enjoy and would recommend checking out!!

@whump-queen

@whump-in-the-closet

@shywhumpauthor

@kira-the-whump-enthusiast

okay for now I'll cut myself off but obviously there are so many more amazing whump blogs and stories out there!!! I hope this list can help you find something you like, thank you again for your kind words!