#mandatory eyebrow scar

[knightsofrayx]

Orbital Mechanics 2; Ponchos 1/3

Poncho!Lilith from @daisychainsandbowties WN Star Wars AU

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Your lips | Pt. 1

(A/N) I don't think this will be along series, but there will be at least on more part! Also, I'm no doctor, or nurse, that's why I mostly skipped over the exam part!

Pairing: Simon x fem!pregnant!Reader

Warning: mutual pining, medical stuff (nothing graphic), mention of scars, pregancy

Synopsis: Almost done with your day (and your pregnancy), you get a last minute patient. The usual stoic and guarded Ghost is immediately charmed by you.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue

“There is a lot I can spare you from Simon, but the medical checkups are mandatory. There is nothing I can do about that.”

Price had his arms crossed over his chest, his eyebrows were pulled together in a slight frown as he regarded his Lieutenant. Simon on the other hand just looked annoyed. There were many reasons as to why he joined the military, but being fussed over by grown people was not one of them. He opened his mouth to, surely, whip out a smart remark, but Price held up his hand before he had the chance.

“You have until tomorrow six p.m. to go to the clinic yourself, or I’ll drag you by your scruff, you hear me?”

With a defeated sigh, he nodded, before he left Price’s office. Might as well get it over with, right?

One look at your computer told you that it was almost time to go home. Your to-do list for the day was all ticked off and your list of patients had no name remaining. With a heavy sigh, you pushed yourself out of your chair and onto your feet, your hand instinctively cradling your swollen belly. Your lips pulled into a smile as you felt a kick right against your hand.

With slow, even steps you made your way to the door of your office and leaned outside until you caught the secretary’s eyes. She smiled at you. But not a bright, sunny smile, no, it was a sad, apologetic smile. Your own smile faded, but you nodded before waddling back to your desk. By the time you sat down, a new patient file was displayed on your screen.

His entire name was redacted, only his callsign was displayed. Ghost. You quickly read through his file, noting that he obviously hated all medical personnel, since he barely showed his face here. By the time you were almost done, a sharp knock rang out from your door.

“Enter!”

From the heavy steps, you could discern that it was the soldier who had been added to your day last minute. Still, you kept your eyes on the screen, trying to get all the information into your head.

“Take off your shirt and sit down on the bed. I’ll be with you in a second.”

Your tone might have sounded harsh, but you quickly learned to use an authoritative tone with soldiers. Otherwise, they might not listen. Your eyes were still fixed on the screen as rustling sounded through the room, followed by the creak of the bed. Now that he was done, you slowly rose to your feet again and squeezed some sanitizer into your hand, grabbing your clipboard before waddling over to the man.

“Just a regular checkup, right?”

Your eyes finally landed on the man’s back when he grunted in response. And good lord, he had one hell of a back. Covered in scars and a few tattoos, his shoulders were broad and strong. You felt yourself blush as some not-so-innocent thoughts entered your mind and it took you a second to switch back to work mode and to stop admiring him. You dealt with soldiers all day, every day, and yet none have had that effect on you. Until now.

To distract yourself, you quickly started with the exam. Looking for any injuries, listening to his lungs and heart. Within a few minutes, you were done with his back and slowly moved to his front. You were ready to just continue the exam when your baby landed an especially firm kick against your womb. You came to a quick stop, placing your hand against the place the baby had kicked.

“Woah, you okay there, love?”

Ghost jumped to his feet, placing a firm hand on your shoulder, but you just waved him off, by now being used to it.

“I’m fine…just…pregnant with a very active baby.”

An amused huff left his lips before Ghost sat back down. And even though he looked the same as before, you noticed how his eyes were more focused now, looking for any sign of trouble. He almost seemed…protective.

After a few moments, you recovered and let out a sigh, closing the distance between you and Ghost. But you hesitated for a moment. How would you reach his chest? As if reading your thoughts, Simon spread his legs, allowing you to step between them and reach his chest. A smile tugged on your lips.

“Thanks.”

He nodded in response, keeping still while you continued your exam, only moving when you asked him to. You instinctively reached to your right, ready to take his blood pressure, but your hand came back empty, you had forgotten to bring it with you from the table. A tired sigh escaped your lips and you took a few steps in the direction of the table when Ghost placed a hand on your arm and stopped you.

“I’ll get it.”

Before you could answer, he was on his feet and already at the table, picking up the device. Something that always seemed so large in your hands was easily dwarfed in his and you couldn’t help but admire his hands. Hands which he used to kill people. Hands which surely could do unholy things to your body. Hands which…

Your thoughts were interrupted by the clearing of a throat and you finally noticed that you had been staring at his hands.

“Oh, uh, sorry.”

With flaming cheeks, you grabbed the device and swiftly pulled the sleeve up Ghost’s arm. Pressing two buttons, you watched as the sleeve slowly began to fill with air. This part was always kind of awkward since all you could do was wait. You expected it to be the same way with him, but instead, he suddenly spoke up.

“How far along are you?”

You looked up, surprise clear on your face.

“Uh, thirty-three weeks.”

A small smile pulled at your lips as you gazed at your belly, your hands softly gliding over it.

“Hm…husband must be excited.”

You chuckled dryly and shook your head as the device finally displayed the value you had been waiting for.

“No husband. No father at all, to be honest. Left as soon as he found out I was pregnant.”

If you weren’t so focused on filling out the form on your clipboard, you would have noticed Ghost’s entire body tensing up and his eyes darkening. His gaze swept over you, following your curves, as his mouth watered. How could someone abandon someone who looked this delicious?

But before his thoughts could continue, you looked up from your clipboard and smiled at him.

“All that’s left is drawing some blood. But since it’s already late, I assume you’re not sober, so could you come in tomorrow morning before breakfast? That way we can get the most accurate values.”

Ghost found himself nodding, a smile hidden behind his medical mask at the thought of seeing you again tomorrow.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

You grinned before waddling back to your desk and sinking down on your chair. As soon as you were out of sight, Ghost quickly pulled his shirt on and got to his feet. He turned to look at you and for a split second, caught you staring before you quickly averted your eyes.

With a grin under his mask, he started to walk to the door, before he got an idea.

“Are you done for the day?”

You looked up at him, your eyes sparkling with confusion.

“Yes, why?”

Ghost nodded and walked back into the office.

“I could accompany you to your car if you’d like. Carry your bag, you know.”

Your eyes widened, a smile tugging at your lips.

“I’d like that, but I took the bus to get here. I don’t exactly fit behind the steering wheel anymore.”

“Oh, in that case, let me drive you home. You shouldn’t be on your feet that much.”

You shook your head, about to protest, but Ghost insisted and finally, you accepted. He watched you finish up your paperwork and pack up before he grabbed your bag and offered you his arm to hold onto.

With slow steps, he led you through the clinic to the doors and towards one of the base cars. One that could be used by all soldiers. On the way you gave him your address, not noticing the smile once he noted that you lived on base yourself.

After he helped you get settled and made sure you were buckled in, he got in and started the car, carefully taking off in the direction of your house. The car ride was spent in comfortable silence, and with you almost falling asleep in the passenger seat. But all too soon, the car pulled up in front of the army-issued house and Ghost quickly rounded to your side to help you get out.

He insisted on helping you get inside, only being satisfied once you sat on your couch with a glass of cold water in front of you.

“Thank you, Ghost. I really appreciated you bringing me home.”

He nodded, his mask hiding a sheepish smile and red cheeks.

“When do you start tomorrow?”

With a slight frown, you told him that you usually started at seven a.m. and he nodded, before saying goodbye and walking towards the door. But at the last second, he stopped and turned to look at you again.

“It’s Simon…my name.”

A grin spread on your lips as you nodded and slowly repeated the name, almost to yourself. But Simon heard it and he couldn’t deny that he loved how his name sounded coming from your lips.

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Call of Duty - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

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[toxicanonymity]

like literally refreshing the page all the time for more raider!joel.. I just love him I don't know why I can't explain it he's just so..

Gun Hug

3.8k, raider!Joel x f!reader | raider master

mood board by @milla-frenchy

SUMMARY: joel spanks you, kills guys while you c*ckwarm him, and he gives you a gift. WARNINGS: I8+, canon-typical violence, horniness, dark fluff, Joel's temper, spanking, dacryphilia, humping, threat of sexual violence (not by Joel), cockwarming while Joel kills people, unsafe P in V creampie, scars/injuries, superstrength, dark fluff.

A/N: Prev. story (not mandatory): Close

When you wake up and roll over, you’re surprised to find Joel still in bed. He’s staring at the ceiling. It was a long night. The two of you killed two trespassers, then you patched him up from whatever happened before that. He never explained. 

“Morning,” you whisper. You want to cuddle up to him, but you’re still skittish from the time you tried to kiss him. 

He glances over at you, but that’s all. A few seconds later he mumbles,  “Morning,” still staring at the ceiling. You watch his bare chest rise and fall.

“Who were those guys we killed,” you ask.  

He sighs. “From another group.”  He glances at you again then does a double take and faces you.  His stitches look sexy. He sees you checking them out and it reminds him. His hand comes to his brow. 

“Try not to touch it,” you whisper.

He reads your face and asks, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah”

“After-” After you shot that guy Joel thought was dead. 

“I’m fine,” you reassure him, and you are.  He was more shaken up than you were the night before.  Only because he thought you were shot. 

He’s quiet for a few seconds then says, “I’d ask where you learned to shoot like that, but I reckon I was there.” 

You smile and hide your face. 

—---

You’re sitting in the kitchen window nook and Joel is in a chair facing you drinking his coffee, apparently still thinking about it. “One shot, dead between the eyes,” he marvels. “Moving target.” He looks at you skeptically. “You really never done that before?”

“I didn’t say that,” you quietly admit. 

“What?” Joel asks.  He sets down his coffee and puts his hand on his knee, manspreading. His other elbow is on the table.  His breath deepens. His face has a look of betrayal, like you’ve been keeping something from him. 

“Not like that,” you backtrack. “I mean, infected. . .  I had to try.  Everyone does."

He's quiet. 

You continue, "Got lucky sometimes. But you taught me how to do it right.”

He slowly nods as though digesting the information. He cocks an eyebrow and looks at you again. It occurs to you he might be seeing you in a different light and you wonder if it's an opportunity. You’re tempted to ask if you can come on a raid again. He hasn’t taken you on one since your failed escape. You keep quiet for now. 

“Do you think there are more of those men?” you ask him. 

“Not sure, sweet pea.”  He looks concerned.  He’s not looking right at you.  

“Am I staying home today?” you ask. 

“No,” he says immediately. "not leavin’ you after that."

It makes your heart swell and you absentmindedly run your fingers over the letters on your chest. 

—---

“Lemme see that,” Joel mutters. You pull your shoulders back so he can see and feel your whole chest, lightly running his calloused fingertips over it.  You can’t see it very well from your standpoint. Only in the cracked, dirty mirror. 

He grazes the mostly healed scabbing  and you could swear you see a hint of guilt in his face. But then he says, “Not deep enough." He glances at your face. "Gotta be too close to read it.”

Scared he's going to 'fix it' with his switchblade, you cover your chest and whimper, “No!”

His face hardens.  “What'd you say?”

“I’m sorry, I just–it hurt–and if it gets infected this time–”

He bends forward and takes your jaw in his hand. “You say ‘no’ to me?”

"I meant-"

"Get up." He releases your jaw and grabs you by the elbow to bring you to your feet. He turns you around and bends you over the window bench.  Then he lifts up your dress and asks, "which side?"

You whimper, "left" because you sleep on your right.  He brings back his left hand and to your surprise you feel a wave of arousal in anticipation. You look over your shoulder and bite your lip. 

He hesitates for a split second and looks at your eyes then your mouth, then his hand lands on your asscheek with a sting and your yelp sounds like more of a squeak. He lets your dress down and you shrink back into the window bench, wincing as you sit down.  

He bends forward and looks at you with his hands on his knees.  Your eyes feel weak.  He tongues the inside of his cheek and shakes his head. 

“I'm sorry," you whine. "Whatever you need to do." Your eyes cloud with tears. You hug a knee, cover your chest with your hand and press your head back against the wall.  "It's ok, Joel. I'm sorry." 

His face softens but it's too late. A tear rolls down your cheek.

"God damnit," he mutters.  He reaches forward to brush the tear away with his thumb. "Wasn't gonna cut ya. Damn." He brushes away another tear off your cheek. He sucks it off his thumb then sits down on the other side of the window bench, facing you. He brings one knee up and leaves the other foot on the floor, mirroring your posture. 

"Then what are you gonna do," you sniffle. 

"figure somethin' else out." He sighs and opens his arms.  "C'mere."

----

He leans back against the wall of the nook. You settle in between his legs and can feel he's getting hard. 

He crosses his arms in front of you and inhales your hair as he lightly traces his name on your chest. "It was for your own good, sweet pea," he justifies to himself. "You were real brave."

Then he noses the skin and hair behind your ear. He leans forward, bending you forward with him, dipping his head.  He inhales against your neck then lightly caresses the other side of your neck with his fingers.  You used to be ticklish there, but you guess you're not now. "We'll figure somethin’ out," he whispers. 

He puts a hand on your abdomen and  pulls you in close, leaning back against the wall of the nook again.  His cock is harder now. He takes a deep breath and slips a hand into your neckline to palm your breast. You sigh and your head falls back against him. He buries his nose in your hair and rests his free hand on your bare knee, then slides it up your leg.

"You got nice legs, baby." His fingers drag up your inner thigh and when he reaches your panties, he lightly drags two fingers up and down the crotch, patiently up and down, with a hint of playfulness. You’re squirming under the light touch with his cock twitching against you.  He continues until he feels your arousal soak through, which doesn’t take long. Both of his wrists lift your dress as his hands slide up to your hips and he hooks his thumbs into your panties. You lift your ass and he pulls them off. 

He puts a hand on your lower belly again with your panties wrapped around his fingers.  You scoot back, pressing yourself into him.  

"Good girl." His cock swells harder. He wedges his other hand between your bodies and unbuttons his jeans–

There's a loud knock at the door. 

-----

"God fuckin damnit," Joel rasps. He uses his pelvis to push you up off him, the push of his hardness making you throb. When he stands, he doesn't button his jeans. His tank top has ridden up  and there's a trail of dark hair pointing down to the protrusion he doesn’t try to hide.   He answers the door and holds it open with your panties still balled in his hand. It's Carter, one of the men he trusts as your guard.  

"Not a good time, buddy," Joel says. 

Carter's eyes fall on the panties in Joel’s hand.  Joel doesn’t flinch.  Carter awkwardly bumbles his gaze around then says,  "well you said to let you know if Jackson came, and he finally did."

"Oh shit," Joel mutters, then his demeanor changes entirely.  He springs to life. 

"But I can do it for ya," Carter says. “Just take him out if ya want. I dunno when he’ll be back”

"No, no," Joel says. "Wanna do this myself." 

Joel leans back and elongates his torso to button his tight pants. "’Don't fuckin' tell anyone I'm comin'. I'm still up here. Shit, I'm nowhere. She's there, I'm not.  You keep'em away from the back, got it? Can you get me ten minutes?" 

"You got it, boss." 

“Gonna be a good day, Carter.”

Carter leaves and Joel says "Shoes on.  Now." 

You look at the bulge in his jeans, and your eyes must look hungry because he says,  "Not now, sweet pea. We gotta move." He puts on a body holster with a pistol over his tank top while you put on your shoes. 

You hold out your hand for your panties. Instead, Joel gets them ready and holds them for you to carefully step into with your sneakers already on. You and he pull them up together then he gives your ass a squeeze. 

—--------

On the way down the hill, Joel explains the plan. He's going to sneak in through the back with you. He'll be in the room with you. The one with the radiator where you were chained up before. The one where you briefly had company. Carter will mislead Jackson and the others into thinking Joel is gone. Carter will pretend to be pissed at Joel and willing to let them use you. Then if (when) they try, Joel will take them out. Simple as that. 

"Nothin's gonna happen, I'll be right there."

—--------

You and Joel make it into the room undetected. It feels like you’re waiting a long time. You have one wrist handcuffed but you’re not cuffed to anything. You’re laying on the cot and Joel’s sitting in front of you.   “What the hell are they doin’,” Joel mutters under his breath. 

Finally, you hear indistinct voices, then Carter telling the men, “Gimme a few minutes, lemme take her to the bathroom and lock her up again.”

Joel sucks in an angry breath at the implication of those words, even though this is the plan. Carter comes in and signals you to clink the handcuff to the radiator so they think you’re  being unchained.  Joel pats your head and whispers “It’s okay, sweetpea, go ahead.” Carter takes you to the bathroom, and on your way back, you feel eyes on you.  Terrible eyes, like the eyes of monsters under a bed. Your heart races and you feel like prey. You run straight to Joel.  He opens his arms for you and you get in his lap facing him.  

You hug him tight and bury your face in his neck, handcuff digging into his back.  Your breath is shallow and fast. Joel is facing the door and watching for Jackson with you wrapped around him. Carter comes back and says “They’re gonna eat first.” 

“God damnit,” Joel says under his breath and begins to recline back against the cot. He puts his elbows and forearms down so his head is up but his back is flat on the dirty mattress.  He's holding the pistol with his finger on the trigger.  You’re still  wrapped around him as he reclines back. 

“Can I be like this,” you whisper and look up at him, still straddling his lap, folded at your hip in some version of child’s pose with your head now on his chest and arms to his sides. 

“Mm-hmm,”  He nods with a straight face, his eyes still glued to the door. His stitches make him look even more serious.

There's a gunshot outside and a plink. "Shootin' cans," Joel shakes his head. 

-----

Joel adjusts his hips slightly and you feel his arousal swell under you.  He takes a deep breath through his nose and his free hand begins to play with your dress. Again it feels like you’re waiting forever. You adjust your arm so the handcuff isn’t digging into the same spot on your wrist. Joel’s hips shift under you again and he twitches under you, still unrelieved from when your breakfast was interrupted.

Your hips reflexively roll into his and a quiet growl escapes the back of his throat. You inhale sharply and he grunts with a lift of his hips. You look up at him and he nods to where your loins are throbbing needily against each other. He rises up a little.  His left hand squeezes your thigh.

You sit up and reach for the button of his pants, the handcuff dragging against his jeans. He nods. You look behind you, afraid of either of you being surprised. You start to say "I-" but you don't. You didn't mind the spanking this morning but you wanna be good for him.  Your core is rapidly moistening itself, but you assume he wants head. Joel keeps his eyes on the door as you unbutton him. You stall by running your hand up and down his hardness and he lets out a low sigh that makes you twitch.  A throbbing desire to have him inside you is beginning to drown out everything else.  

You slowly tug the zipper down and hesitantly look up at him. Then you look behind you again. 

His voice is deep and soft. “Eyes on me, baby.” Your head snaps back to face him.  He only glances at you briefly before returning his gaze to the doorway. 

You finish unzipping him and slide your hand without the cuff into his pants.  You gasp when you hit the warm, smooth skin. He gently thrusts into your hand. You smear his precum around the tip, then begin to get off his lap to suck it. But he sits up enough to grab your arms and pull you back toward him. You scoot forward again, and he nudges your dress over his cock. Then his hips press his naked arousal against your mound and you feel its warmth through the soft, thin fabric of your panties.  A wave of desire rushes through your whole body.  

It’s crazy, this is crazy, and so is Joel, but you trust him. He'll keep you safe. He wraps his left hand around the base of his shaft. He has his pistol ready in one hand and his cock ready in the other. You lift yourself over his tip and pull the damp crotch of your underwear to the side, careful not to let the handcuffs hit his cock. You moan softly when the swollen head hits your dripping folds, and he sucks in a chest full of air.  You take his cock in your hand and use the head to nudge your folds open, wedging the tip into your entrance with the aid of gravity as you let yourself down. You look at Joel and he swallows, eye fixed on the door, finger on the trigger. 

You sink onto him and as your tight, dripping sleeve consumes his shaft, his girth pushes a moan out of you.  Joel sits upright and pulls you down, bottoming out with his mouth shut, lips in a straight line, determined not to make a sound.  He lets out a breath through his nose.  

“Tell me you didn’t get started without me,” Jackon’s voice echoes from the hall. 

"Ears," Joel whispers. For the echo.  You sit perfectly still, impaled on his stiff cock and bring your hands to your ears, handcuffs jingling, then dangling from your wrist.  Boots clap in the hall and a belt buckle clinks outside the doorway.  Jackson chuckles darkly.  Joel aims the gun toward the door with both hands, his biceps lightly squeezing your hands on your ears, further dampening all sounds.

Jackson walks in and says "whoa, oh–"

Joel’s biceps flex against the backs of your hands. A gunshot, a grunt, a cry, then another shot, and the thud of a body falling into a heap. 

"That's right," Joel mutters.  “Piece of shit.” 

Then he murmurs into your hair.  "You did good, baby." You bring your hands down to his sides.

Joel begins to rock his hips, moving you on his cock. 

More footsteps approach from the hall, then a man’s voice. "Jackson? I wasn't ready, man."

"Ears." Joel stops moving his hips. His eyes are wild.   He straightens up, resuming the same position as before with his biceps pressing against your hands on your ears as he points the gun.  You’re sitting there full of his cock. 

The other man rounds the corner. He registers who he’s looking at and gasps, "Joel."  You can only imagine the look on his face. "I wasn't–" his voice is shaky with guilt and fear. 

“Yeah,” Joel says darkly.  “Me either.”  His cock twitches inside you. His arms flex. Just one gunshot this time. Joel sighs then wraps his left arm around you, leans back, and holds the pistol against the mattress. He thrusts up into you with a wild look behind his eyes. 

"Thank you," you whisper. Now you have two less of those heinous men to worry about. Probably the worst two. 

Joel shakes his head and squints at you as his cock moves inside you. "'s'my job," he pants, his eyes still alive.  It’s a mystery where bloodlust ends and the lust begins. "Nothin' more important," he adds.

He thrusts up sharply and you gasp. He braces himself with his gun hand on the filthy mattress as he sheathes himself deep inside you, making you so full.  He moves a little further in short pulses with each flex of his hips.  The pit of your stomach begins to buzz.

Carter Knocks and says, "That's it, they're leavin'. Want me to. . ." Joel doesn't acknowledge him. Instead, Joel looks at your face, watching the pleasure weigh your eyelids down as he fucks you from the bottom.  You see the hint of a softer smile behind his maniacal eyes. Carter's footsteps recede. 

—

Joel nudges you up, helping to lift you off his cock, and you whimper, "no." You look back at the bodies out of morbid curiosity but he wrangles you onto the mattress face down with a forearm on your back and you can't see. You lift your ass and tilt your hips for him. 

"Good girl," Joel breathes and peels off your panties for the second time today. He lines himself up with your cunt again. Then he hovers over you with a hand on the back of your neck holding your damp panties against your skin.  

He plunges into you with a groan and you hum “mmm.”   

He retreats then bottoms out again. "Ohh, fuck." He pounds you fast and rough, grunting and breathing heavily. “Yeahh.”

You moan on the verge of bliss. He slams his hips into you harder and asks, “that feel good?”

"Yeah," you manage, the force of his thrusts punching the air out of you.

Joel grunts and growls as he rails you. He hovers over your back. Your orgasm gathers tighter and tighter with each sound he makes, each firm drag of his cock.  Then it bursts in your core and you groan into your arm. 

"It's ok, baby," his hips keep moving. He lowers his speed but maintains his power.

You moan as he fucks you through it. 

"Fuck," he pants, and thrusts harder, "god damn, you choke it good." You sigh as your body stops jerking but continues to be pounded. “Ohh, yeah.”  He slows a little more. “Ohhh, fuck.”

Joel glances across the room to the floor and begins to pull out.  He hasn’t come yet.  You beg "please, I want it." He pauses and tilts his head at you. “Please, inside” you plead. You look back over your shoulder at him and push your ass back, sheathing his cock entirely once again.  His hair is wild and his chest glistens.  The hint of a smirk plays on his face.  Joel nods then slowly pushes all the way into you again with a grunt.  He backs up and slams in. “Want it, don’t ya.”

“Yeah,” you whine. 

“Want it to trickle down those pretty legs.”

“Yeah.” 

He buries his length in you a few times fast, and you feel it coming.  He slows way down.  He plunges into you with a groan and begins to pulse as he bottoms out.  He repeats this, slow and hard as his balls empty.  You close your eyes and feel him fill you up like a hug from the inside. He vocally sighs as his cock pumps into you.  Like something intimate he can’t give you any other way. “Yeah,” he pants as he finishes.  His big hand squeezes your shoulder before he carefully pulls out. 

Then he puts your panties back on you, and takes the handcuffs off your wrist.  He sits on the edge of the cot and helps you off of it so you stand between his knees.  He fixes your dress and your hair. “You did good, sweet pea.” He looks from your eyes to your mouth, then abruptly stands up.  He puts his arms around you loosely, putting his body between yours and the ones on the floor as though protecting you from the scene. He nudges you toward the door and down the hall. 

Joel lets you rest on a cot in the unloading room while he sorts through some things and has someone take care of the bodies. He doesn’t ever leave the room, he just barks orders and keeps you in sight.

—

That night, Joel is heating up some spaghettios and you’re in the nook looking out the window.  He’s looking good, still wearing the body holster, muscles pumped up. He comes and sits down next to you. He spreads his knees and looks around the kitchen, then reaches for the pistol.  He takes it out of the holster, checks to make sure the safety is on, and hands it to himself so he’s holding it by the barrel.  Then he hands it to you.  “This is yours now.” 

“Really?” You try not to let your eyes well up in tears, but it really moves you. 

Joel nods twice, then something flashes across his face and he swallows. “You’re brave, sweet pea.” 

You put your arms around his neck and climb into his lap facing him with your wrists crossed behind him, gun in one hand. Joel meets your hug, wrapping his arms around you tight, pulling you into his chest. After a moment, he pulls his head back enough to plant the lightest kiss on your forehead.  

Then he clears his throat and nudges you off of him. “Don’t want it to burn.” He goes back to the spaghettios.  

------

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RAIDER POLL

FAQ: pregnancy HC. raider has a vasectomy. so why was he gonna pull out? To use his cum for a deranged display of dominance

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Thank you so much for reading. If you liked it, please consider commenting and/or reblogging. It doesn't matter how many followers you have if any, if still means a lot. I really appreciate your engagement!!

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and @gab-thelamb-onthemoon i hope you like it ily <3

[uncaught-coolfish]

lowkey the grossest thing about adam’s face reveal in v6 (outside of the. you know) is that it so blatantly plays into the “scary disfigured” trope that I see fucking everywhere.

Wow look at how ugly this guy’s face is. Look at how the whites of his eye has turned completely red. Look at that cataract, scary right? Look at how the whole brand & s carrying covers most of his face. Look at how jagged and grotesque it looks. Look at how squinted the eye is because of the burn. He doesn’t even have a second eyebrow anymore. Isn’t that scary?

The reveal is meant to shock you— but not in a “Oh, this guy was branded, that’s kind of sad” way, or even in a “Oh, this guy was branded, that’s kind of scary” way. The reveal is framed to be shocking in a “Oh, this guy was branded and looks dEfOrMeD, he’s kind of scary” way.

It’s a trope I see fucking everywhere. Characters with facial disfigurements/“facial differences” of any sort are 99% of the time used in media as villains who are “more horrific” because of their faces.

I think there’s genuinely one piece of media that has a main character with a facial difference who isn’t either a villain or is portrayed as being “tragically misunderstood” by the narrative (sorry elephant man) and

it’s a kids book. A really good kids book, but a kids book. (said kids book also has one of the few small yet positive representations of tourettes but that’s uhhhh not the point. I just wanted to mention it. Yeah. Wonder should be mandatory reading tbh)

But back on topic. The reveal of Adam’s face is narratively framed as something to make him more evil and scary then he already is. It’s not enough to have him just be an arrogant asshole— let’s give him a purposefully “grotesque” and “discomforting” facial scarring that comes with the implication that he got it while in slavery. And let’s be sure to put in lots and lots of detail when we model it on.

That’ll sure make him more hatable!

For a show that’s been promoted as being “subversive” and not following many common themes seen in media… it sure goes out of its way to make sure a bunch of that media’s worst tropes get included in its narrative.

It’s disappointing.

[joels6string]

Into Focus

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You and Joel head out on his mandatory first date before picking up where you left off. Follow up to Illegible.

Rating: E

Word Count: 3k (again, why?)

Content: smut, thigh riding, fingering, unprotected p-in-v, oral both receiving, Joel hates his scars but you don't

The pub’s raucous jubilance dulled to a hushed murmur as Joel pushed the door open, all eyes quickly drifting from him to you, curiosity furrowing brows and dropping jaws yet not a soul dared speak a word. Joel had his reputation, he’d earned it fair and square, and the gazes of Jackson’s citizens followed intently as he pulled out a chair in the back corner of the pub for you, your fingers quivering with nerves as your breath shook.

“Don’t worry about them,” he comforted, “What’re you drinkin’?”

“Anything’s fine,” you replied quickly, the woodgrain of the table holding your attention as you avoided the dozens of stares pointed your way.

“No, it ain’t.”

“Just a beer.”

This already wasn’t going well. Your stomach was in knots, both from who your companion was and how much attention that fact was drawing to you. The solitude of your house was calling to you, beckoning you back into the safety of its walls with a siren call you were almost too weak to resist. But when Joel returned with two beers in hand, you swallowed your unease and focused on the gentle hazel eyes in front of you, the puffy bags and fine lines surrounding them softening as he returned the attention.

“Probably more than you bargained for,” he teased with a gruff chuckle, “I don’t like it either.”

Whether he liked it or not, you knew it was deserved. No one did more to keep the residents of the town safe than Joel, not even Tommy, though it was close. Surely the town was wondering why he was there with you, you were nothing special. You had a few friends, and the town was too small and reliant on others for people to be complete strangers, but you were no life of the party. You were not a soul worthy of Joel Miller’s attention.

“You’re from Texas, right?” you asked, trying to spark a conversation to hold your tumultuous thoughts.

“Yes ma’am,” he crooned, sucking the foam off his lower lip, “born and raised.”

“Did you like it?”

“Miss it every day.”

That shouldn’t have stung, but it did. His missing his home had nothing to do with you in the slightest, but still to think he was at all discontent here unsettled you even further. This was supposed to be fun but all you felt was dread, anxiety, and embarrassment. Who were you to be sitting at this table?

“But it ain’t so bad here,” he continued, reading the emotions playing out on your face, “Why you so nervous? I told you not to worry about them. They don’t matter. Where’re you from?”

“California,” you answered, smiling slightly as his eyebrow raised, “What?”

“Never expected that. You miss it?”

“Not really.”

The answer seemed to intrigue him but he didn’t press further, your shoulders relaxing slightly as he finished off his pint.

“How’s that beer?” he asked, noting yours was still more than halfway full.

“It’s pretty bad,” you replied with a laugh, forcing down another large gulp.

“Pretty bad? That’s generous. I’ll pass along your compliments.”

Conversation continued for an hour, the ease he set over you with his terrible jokes and hidden gentle nature had gotten you smiling and it was then you realized just how precious his own toothy grin was. It sparkled up into his eyes, the wrinkles on the outer corners deepening with each lift of his lips. 

“You ready?” he asked after a second round, “I’ll walk ya home.”

Elbows bumped as you slowly made your way through the streets, feet dragging slower than they normally would as you both made every attempt to prolong the company of the other as much as you took the time to try and decide how the night would end. You were well aware he was going to leave the decision up to you, his boots unwilling to pass your threshold without explicit permission to do so. It was just finding the courage to ask him that would be difficult to find. A fire was already simmering low in your belly, the way the thin flannel he wore did little to conceal the girth of his biceps or the stretch of his shoulders not helping the situation as you recalled the way his lips felt on yours less than two hours ago. You’d already begun, how hard would it be to continue?

“You can come in,” you blurted out nervously as you stopped in front of your little house, your eyes locked on the gravel beneath your feet as your hands wrung nervously in front of you, “If you want.”

“I’d like that.” You cursed him mentally for his tone, so warm and inviting, the last two hours had done well to help you forget the stories of his brutality that cycled through the whispers in the town.

You relinquished control as soon as your door clicked closed, if you thought about it a second longer you’d back down, but when you gripped the back of his neck and pulled his mouth to yours the fervor in which he reciprocated your kiss allowed your kindled flames to erupt. Thick fingers molded into the softness of your hips and waist, his lips never exceeding the pace or pressure of your own as you pulled and pressed, your own digits winding into his hair as your back hit the wall beside your door. You’d barely made it into your house. 

A muscled thigh wedged itself between your own, your body instinctively pressing down hard enough to have you breaking the kiss to exhale in relief, that lopsided grin of his you’d so quickly become infatuated with stretching along his face as he nuzzled his nose in the hollow behind your ear.

“Go on,” he urged huskily in your ear, “Take a ride.”

Normally, you’d have been mortified, frozen in humiliation at someone catching you so brazenly using them for your own reward, but he seemed to like it, his grip pulling you further onto his thick muscle and holding you steady as you teetered on the tips of your toes. With your fingers locked behind his neck you did as he asked, dragging your dampening core along his thigh greedily, the friction driving you mad within seconds. All you could smell was him, leather and sawdust mixed with the airy scent of the woods, his heat seeping into your palms as his breath fanned along the side of your neck. He was intoxicating.

“Joel…” it slipped out like a prayer, heat building too quickly for you to subdue as you begged for relief, the reality of your fantasy come to life hitting you like a tidal wave as it settled in.

“What do you need, darlin’?” He had no right to sound that ragged, you hadn’t even touched him yet and he was already breathless.

Clearly, all you needed was to hear that pet name roll off his velvet tongue, your impatient body finally giving in to the unhindered need coursing through it. He was muttering something you couldn’t quite make out, his arms lifting you around his waist as he carried you back towards your bedroom, your head floating down from the clouds just enough to hear his inquiry as he froze just past the living room entryway. 

“Which way?” You couldn’t help but laugh as he stood at the juncture between your spare room and the one you occupied.

“Left.”

Your bed was soft beneath your back as he laid you down, hovering over you still as he met your lips in a bruising kiss, the button of your jeans snapping open allowing you both to wrestle them off, your shirt following not long behind. It didn’t matter he was still fully clothed, as his tongue explored your mouth and middle finger slid through your soaked slit all that mattered was that he was here. You’d imagined this more times than you’d ever freely admit, even to yourself, the pressure on your clit from the man that had occupied too many of your dreams as his tongue danced with yours sent you dizzying again. You were insatiable, thighs spreading shamelessly to allow him room to work when he teased at your entrance, your lungs robbed of air as he breached what had only been touched by your own hand for a long, long time. He was slow at first, working you up expertly until you were searching for more, his ring finger joining as his tongue continued to lay claim to your gasping mouth. 

When his thumb pressed down on your clit once again while he continued to scissor you open, another wave of pleasure crested and ebbed, leaving you heaving air into your lungs as his beard scraped at your now sweat-soaked neck, his lips tasting the salty dew beading on your skin. He gave you all the time you needed to rejoin him, your eyes fluttering open to a mop of gray hair as he latched onto one of your budding nipples, the sensation of him exploring new territory causing you to buck upwards in shock and pleasure. 

Once he’d swirled his tongue and suckled long enough to have his fill, he checked in with how alert you’d become, his hazel eyes blown black as you read the desperation written in that lusty gaze. With a smile you welcomed him back to your lips, your fingers immediately going to work on the buttons of his shirt only to be stopped as you got the first one halfway through the slit.

“There ain’t nothing to see under there,” he said sadly, your heart that had been free-floating dropping immediately into your stomach.

You weren’t willing to argue, to even consider making him uncomfortable, and his dilemma to hold the line or give in manifested in the twitch of his jaw as his teeth gnashed together. The look you were giving him had him reconsidering, eyes doe-like and wide, fingers still frozen where he’d halted them, and with a rumbling sigh, he sat back on his heels to obey your silent wish.

The scars were impossible to miss, a large, gnarled one on his right side almost succeeding in pulling your attention, but you knew that was exactly what he’d been referring to and you had other intentions for it when the time was right. His face relaxed when yours gave no indication of the disgust he was clearly anticipating, instead watching the way your fingers reached out to stroke over the dark hair covering his toned pecs before sitting up to meet him. 

His height advantage worked in your favor, leaving your lips even with the newly exposed skin before you to explore and lavish with affection. You wondered how long it had been since he’d had this when his muscles tensed at the first gentle press, the hiss of air being sucked through his teeth enough to have you checking in with him to ensure he was still content. 

“You okay?” you breathed against his throat, your tongue laving out into the hollow.

“Yeah,” he quavered, “Been awhile, that’s all.”

Threading your fingers back into his hair, you laid back down, bringing him with you by the lips. He followed like a magnet to steel, orbiting around you with a newly discovered force, his hands shucking his jeans off and leaving him as bare as you, your thighs parting again allowing him to nestle in. You began with a hand, gripping his long, thick length with a stunned gasp that made him chuckle, one slow drag enough to have him lightly pulsing through your fist, forehead pressed tightly to yours as he sucked the air huffing from your parted lips.

He was yours to lead, the leaking tip of his cock notching against your entrance only at your guidance, your kiss permissing him to push forward into your heat until he was sheathed entirely, a few shallow thrusts needed to help you adjust to his size.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he exhaled against you, “Aren’t you a divine little thing?”

That had you clenching around him, his face contorting as he pushed back what you knew was already threatening to burst. You mewled as he began to rock slowly, his hand threading into your hair on the side of your head as he thrust into your waiting heat cautiously. He was holding back. You could tell. It was evident in the tension of his neck and shoulders, and no matter how voraciously you kissed him he didn’t let go. 

“Joel...” you whimpered, hoping to spur him on as it had in the living room, “please.”

When your nails sunk into the skin of his back and dragged down a long scar on his shoulder blade, with a moaning sigh he snapped his hips into you brutally, his desperation running free. You spurred this new pace on with sounds of your own, wrapping your thighs around his waist and arms around his neck as he pulled you back down from where his force had pushed you into the headboard. Skin slapped skin, the wet squelching of your cunt was obscene but you didn’t care, all you could focus on was the pressure bearing down and the breathy, haggard moans in your ear. 

As he sat back on his heels you couldn’t help but marvel at the man above you. Thick and shining with a thin sheen of sweat, he was glowing in the dim light from your bedside lamp. His hair was unruly, not that he ever did much with it anyway, but the way the silver strands were falling into his eyes made him look wild, feral, everything you knew he was deep down despite his quiet demeanor and warm smile that he gifted to so very few.

“God damn,” he sputtered, hands bringing your ankles up to his shoulders, his cock hitting even deeper and causing you to careen.

Abruptly, he pulled out and the loss of him had your eyes shooting open just in time to watch him lock his lips around your swollen folds. Large palms kept your knees up towards your chest as he lapped at you unapologetically, the change in sensation enough to consume you completely. His beard scraped against your oversensitized skin, his tongue hot and precise, and you were thankful for your lack of neighbors as the control over your pathetic noises finally shattered. You were loud and uninhibited and it only made him respond in kind. He was rumbling against your heat, his eyes locked on your fingers palming at your breasts and the way your mouth was hanging open in the euphoria he was giving you.

You were gasping his name now like it was the only word you could remember. Maybe it was. His tongue prodded and his lips suckled all while those intent hazel eyes stared at you, your body building up yet again for another powerful wave. Normally you’d have been nervous under that intent gaze, but here it only made you burn further. The slurping was obscene, you forced yourself to try and quiet so you could enjoy the sounds, the coarse hair covering the lower half of his face only heightening every pass and brush of him between your thighs.

White-hot heat finally seared through you as your back arched off the bed, his name once again echoing off the walls as he released your thighs to snap closed around his head, locking him in place as he continued to lap and tease at your overstimulated clit. Your body jerked with every featherlight touch, his tongue taking one last swirl around your opening to collect the sweetness that poured freely from your cunt before thrusting in again, his cock easily slipping in thanks to the rush of arousal he’d just coaxed free.

However, you didn’t give him long. A long-trapped carnal beast had been freed and it was your turn to introduce it to him. Before his pace could regulate, you sat up and pushed him by the chest to lay beside you, your body scrambling to situate with your head in his lap, your mouth pulling his weeping cock into your mouth and suctioning.

“Fuck!” he bellowed, “God damn, just like that.”

Now you had him. Your throat had eased enough to take him all the way in, your nose buried in the dark thatch of curls as you breathed through your nose. His eyes were reverent and pleading, the fingers in your hair gentle enough to not hold you in place, just scratch soothingly as you started to bob, the glucking sound of his cock in your mouth in perfect sync with his moans just loud enough for you to enjoy.

“This where you want it?” he panted, and you commended his ability to still even think about that, your hum of approval vibrating around him, “Atta girl…”

It didn’t take long for the salty, bitter tang of him to hit your tongue, your swollen lips locking around him once again to suck him clean as he whimpered and whined in bliss. But you weren’t done, not yet. As he collapsed down on the pillow, satiated and spent, your kiss traveled to that puckered, red marring on his right side, pressing adoringly onto the disfigured skin. It didn’t go unnoticed the way his eyes pinched shut and face twisted in a wave of emotion, his lower lip quivering as you brushed your nose over his stomach, returning to lavish what he’d been so ashamed of with the affection he deserved. 

“C’mere please,” he whimpered, arms opening up for you to nestle into, his chest hair tickling against your cheek as he wrapped you up tightly in his hold, “That’s good. May I stay?”

“Yeah,” you sighed contentedly, your fingers drawing absentminded circles on his skin as your eyes fought to stay open, “Get the light, would ya?”

“Yes ma’am.”

He'd sleep the best he had in years that night, the smell of your floral shampoo whisking him off into pleasant dreams and quiet peace.

Joel Miller Masterlist

[nostalgic-woodwind]

The Tiniest Digital Circus

Book 1: Stitched With TLC (Tender Loving Care)

Chapter 1: The Big Test!

“Today’s adventure is…‘The Tiniest Adventure Ever!’” Caine announced to the circus members as the text—“The Tiniest Adventure Ever!”—appeared above him. The text was in alphabet blocks, and there were baby essentials around it.

The group stared blankly at the title.

“Is this some type of babysitting adventure?” Pomni questioned.

“Oh, God, I can’t stand kids…” Zooble rolled their eyes. “Last time we did a babysitting adventure, those little s**ts took my pieces and bit my arms.”

“Actually, you guys are the little ones!” Caine corrected before laughing maniacally.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jax asked.

“Each of you will be taking a classification test-”

“Wait, a test? We didn’t study for anything!” Kinger panicked.

“No need to worry! Classification tests aren't worth a grade per se. A classification test is a personality test to see where you fall under the age regression umbrella! ‘What is age regression?’, you may ask. From my digital research, age regression, a therapist-approved coping mechanism, is when an individual’s mind reverts back to a younger headspace due to trauma, stress, and more! Regressors do activities that they did when they were little, such as playing with toys, reading children’s books, coloring, anything that takes them down the memory lane! There’s not just age regressors, no, no. There are also age dreamers, pet regressors and dreamers, caregivers, flips, and more!”

The circus members looked at each other, then back at Caine, baffled at what he was talking about.

“I’m sorry, you want us to act like crybabies to cope with the adventures you’re giving us? It’s bad enough there’s already one right here,” Jax scoffed as he pointed at Gangle.

“I know that this seems strange, but for the past couple of adventures, you guys looked like you’ve gone through a little more than anticipated,” the ringmaster explained.

“A little?” Pomni raised her eyebrow.

“Which is why I have the perfect idea to help you calm your minds and revert back to simpler times after going on such big adventures!”

Caine snapped his fingers, making a portal appear. He then pushed the circus members into the portal, transporting them to an elementary school classroom. There were test packets on six desks.

“Can I skip out on this?” Zooble grumbled.

“Sorry, Zooble, but this adventure is mandatory for everyone.“

“Of course it is…”

“I promise that this coping mechanism will help you out in the long run. Besides, some of you might be caregivers, looking and caring after little ones,” Caine said as he snapped his fingers again, making anti-cheating folders appear on the six members’ desks. “Now, do your best, my magic xylophones, and answer honestly!”

Caine then exited the classroom as the portal closed up.

Pomni stared down at her test, which read “‘The Tiniest Adventure Ever!’ Classification Exam.”

“This adventure’s not going to have any of us scarred at the end, right?” The jester questioned Ragatha.

“Well, I’m not sure, but from what Caine explained, this is probably a lot more tame than what we’ve been through,” the ragdoll replied. “Even before you showed up, Pomni.”

“I still don’t know why we have to do this…” Zooble huffed. “Caine’s up to something.”

“You know, for once, I agree with you,” Jax stated. 

“I’m just hoping to God he’s not a f**king caregiver…”

“I don’t think Caine’s taking the test,” Kinger said. “He’s already busy with his ringmaster job.”

“Maybe this adventure could be fun,” Gangle assured.

“No one asked for your opinion, rugrat,” Jax said rudely.

“Will you shut the f**k up so we can get this stupid test over with?” Zooble glared.

“Why don’t you make me?”

“Guys, calm down,” Ragatha spoke up before any fight could ensue. “This is new for all of us, but there’s no reason for us to argue. Besides, this regression stuff doesn’t sound as bad as any of us think.”

Zooble and Jax rolled their eyes as everyone began taking the classification exam.

Pomni looked at the questions on her test.

“How do the adventures make you feel?” 

“What helps you calm down?” 

“What do your friends say about you?” 

“How do you like to ‘waste your time’?” 

The jester felt a pit in her stomach when she saw the first question. She could remember when she felt frightened when she first put on the headset. She could remember Caine taking her on an overwhelming tour of the circus. She could remember Kaufmo abstracting… Ragatha glitching out… Ragatha… Ragatha was the first person to help her calm down. She was her anchor when things got stormy. Pomni couldn’t remember if she had a family, but the ragdoll was like a mother figure to her. Ragatha forgave the jester when she abandoned her for the exit door on the first day. Pomni, however, felt like she didn’t deserve her forgiveness. She still doesn’t.

“Hey, are you okay?” Ragatha asked as she gently tapped Pomni on the shoulder. 

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” Pomni replied. “It’s just the questions.”

“It’s okay. Just answer honestly and do your best, like Caine said.”

“Hey, Caine said no cheating,” Jax interrupted.

“No, he didn’t. Besides, we’re not cheating” Ragatha argued before turning back to Pomni and giving her a comforting smile. “Just don’t overthink it and answer the best to your ability.”

Pomni smiled back a little before returning to her test.

————————————

The next day, everyone was relaxing in the main room, talking amongst themselves.

“Mail’s here! Mail’s here!” Bubble announced as he appeared out of nowhere, startling everyone.

“Your results from yesterday’s test came in, my curious caterpillars!” Caine added as he arrived. The ringmaster snapped his fingers, making six colorful envelopes appear. He then handed the envelopes to the circus members. “I want to say that no matter where you are under the regression umbrella, you deserve tremendous amounts of love and support!“

The circus members opened their envelopes, their reactions being mixed. Pomni, Jax, and Zooble were shocked by their results, Gangle and Kinger were content with theirs, and Ragatha was a bit stunned with hers.

————

Pomni - Regressor (65%), Sibby (35%)

Ragatha - Flip: Caregiver/Guardian (50%), Babysitter (33%), Regressor (17%)

Gangle - Regressor (50%), Pet - Turtle (50%)

Kinger - Caregiver (40%), Guardian (30%), Babysitter (30%)

Jax - Regressor (55%), Sibby (45%)

Zooble - Flip: Babysitter (50%), Regressor (50%)

Divider by @abc-pupy

[lanabenikosdoormat]

JED MASTERPOST

Fast on his feet with an even sharper mind, Jed worked as a cipher agent for the Galactic Empire. Under the alias Cipher Nine - he was a prodigal secret weapon for the Empire's goals. As time passed, so did the stakes. When Imperial Intelligence disbanded, Jed found himself pursuing more independent ventures, outsourcing his work to broader horizons. He garnered quite a lofty reputation.

Through his extraordinary acts, Jed rose through the ranks, becoming a leading figure in the war that later broke out between the two superpowers. He would eventually become known as the Outlander and later, The Alliance Commander and serves as my main OC, not just for SWTOR - but my artist career as a whole.

MOST OF THIS IS PULLED DIRECTLY FROM HIS TOYHOUSE, WHICH CAN BE FOUND BELOW AND IS MORE COMPREHESIVE

BIO BELOW THE CUT!

Overview:

Full Name: Jedidiah Solaris

Alias: Cipher Nine, Commander Solaris, The Outlander, "The Ginger" (belovingly by friends)

Age: 35 around Onslaught

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Gay, Biromantic

Mental Conditions: OCD, PTSD

Birthday: March 20th, 11 BTC

Birthplace: Sacorria,  Corellian Sector

Species/Race: Human - Augmented with cybernetics

Occupation: Alliance Commander

Status: Engaged (Theron Shan)

-

Design:

Height: 6'0

Weight: 168 lbs

Body Type: Athletic, inverted triangle

Eye Color: Medium Brown (right eye is a prosthetic and is red)

Cybernetics: Mostly internal but there are two peaking out from the side of his head, just above the top of his ears.

Features: High cheekbones, scar through right eyebrow, clean shaven, well groomed, handsome. Personal hygiene is a high priority.

Markings: Various scars, faint freckles in summer seasons, bruised knuckles

-

Relationships:

Family: Deceased. KIA on Sacorria during the skirmish.

Love Interests: Hunter ✞ (Enemies to lovers, enemies with benefits type situationship), Theron Shan (Fiancé)

Friends/Allies: Closest friend is Lana Beniko. Additionally close with various others including Vector Hyllus, Koth Vortena, Arcann Tiral and the Them Group (OC group consisting of four of my irl friends ocs and my own sith warrior as follows: Verity Dante, Exxus Gun, LIX, and Obi-Two)

-

Personality:

He is both practical and visionary as well as a staunch realist. He is imaginative and eloquent, able to problem solve and get himself and his team out of tight situations.

As a leader, he is disciplined and thorough, leaving no stone unturned. Jed is strongly independent and is opposed to authority that he doesn't respect.

-

Background (pre-imp agent campaign and expacs):

As a young child, Jedidiah came from a tiny community of modest agriculturalists. For the first seven years of his life, he lived fair off. However, war struck and their little slice of the galaxy was caught in the crossfire. Jed was struck by blaster fire, directly in his right side of his skull. The wound was lethal and desperately his mother took a final stand to carry him to the Imperial outpost stationed on the planet. Because of his late uncle's contributions to the Empire, Jed was able to be taken into Imperial custody on one condition: he was never to return home again.

For the next 12 or so years, Jed was stationed on Ziost and Dromound Kaas interchangeably as he completed his initiation and mandatory military training. His superiors noticed he had a natural affinity for sneaking around in the shadows, as well as persuasion and ruthlessness. As such, at the age of just 14, he was transferred to the Imperial Intelligence division where he would begin training as an agent of the Empire.

-

Other Information:

Likes:

Killing Time

Sharpshooting

Revenge

Physical Touch

Dislikes:

Sucking Up

Unwarranted violence

The Sith

Helplessness

Hobbies:

Dejarik

Target Practice

Reading

Binge watching holo-dramas

Gambling

Social Drinking

Habits: Finger flexing, Pacing

Trivia:

He is ambidextrous, and uses a variety of different weapons depending on the given scenario.

Jed is excellent with kids and animals, he gets very soft and sweet and knows just what to say to them, especially in times of distress.

His favorite color used to be navy, and he'd wear it a lot in his downtime. However, these days its the red color of Theron's jacket as seeing it always reminds Jed of him.

[thisonelikesaliens]

editing original post here because i forgot a very important year (2011). edits in bold:

ok i think i have a better sense of the timeline now based on info i've gathered across various interviews

2007: Qian is (probably) around 13-14 when he "adopts" Yuan, who should be the same age as Lili (7). i don't think Yuan's age is ever clear since he didn't have any identification until the mob boss got him one

2011: episode 1, Qian is 17-18, we see adult Qian and little Yuan together in the hospital. this is when Qian gets that scar on his eyebrow (bandage on eyebrow). Yuan is nabbed later this year by mob boss sidekick Ah Hu (Tiger). the year Qian gets punctured lung while fighting to get out of the mob

2/9/2013: episode 1, Qian is around 19-20, Yuan and Lili are 13, based on their lunar new year convo where we find out people at Qian's age are already in second year of college and Yuan and Lili were in the same class until Yuan skipped straight to high school. Lili's actress plays through ages 13 through 23 and this is the first year we see her (edit: i'm assuming Lili just turned 13 maybe in January and Yuan turned 13 a month before)

mid-2016: Qian graduates college in 3 years

12/21/2017: Yuan turns 18

so i'm guessing episode 5 is happening sometime in 2018, before Taiwan legalized same sex marriage in 2019

eh this is what i have so far, not entirely sure how much time i need to bake in for mandatory military service

[ejzah]

The Other Shoe, Part 15

***

After a first few brutal days, where Deeks seemed to be in constant pain, in addition to constantly being poked and examined by a team of doctors, things improved significantly. Since he didn’t show signs of rejection or infection, they removed several of the tubes that kept him bed bound and he was allowed brief walks—Sam had been released after only one day, much to Deeks’ regret. He’d looked forward to causing minor mischief with his former teammate.

Physical activity brought its own pain and challenges, but Deeks was just happy to be up and about. Even if some of that time was spent in mandatory PT sessions.

In the end, Deeks was released from the hospital after eight days, along with a dizzying list of guidelines, medications, diet recommendations, and symptoms to be on watch for as he recovered.

Two weeks later, Deeks and Kensi had settled into a fairly steady routine. She was still on family and medical leave, which meant she could assist Deeks with any of his needs. Though at this point, he could manage most of his upkeep by himself.

Mostly, Deeks was enjoying the ability to resume normal activities, albeit at a slower and less impressive pace.

Today, Kensi helped him move their set of weights and other exercise equipment outside for his daily modified workout session. With the sun beating down on him, he’d worked up a sweat within a few minutes, and stripped off his shirt. He’d have to watch that he didn’t burn after being inside so much the last year, but for now it felt amazing.

Halfway through a set of arm curls, he caught Kensi watching him from her spot on their wicker loveseat. The book she’d been reading lay abandoned in one hand. He followed her gaze down to his abdomen.

A scar about four inches long stretched from just above his pelvis to his lower abdomen at an angle. Underneath the hard layer of surgical glue, he could see the remnants of dried blood and the raised edges of relatively fresh scar tissue.

“I guess I’m not going to be winning any beauty contests, huh?” he said wryly, gesturing to himself with a sweeping motion. Kensi looked momentarily embarrassed at having been caught staring, but got over it quickly.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re gorgeous,” she insisted, turning a couple pages in the book.

“I’m skinny, I’m pale, I can barely lift 10 pounds, and I have a new scar to top it all off.”

“And still think you’re the sexiest man alive,” Kensi told him firmly. She slid off the loveseat, leaving the book on the cushion, and crossed over to him hands on her hips. “I love everything about you, including that scar.” She stopped directly in front of him, curling one hand around the back of his neck and cupping his cheek with the other. “You will your strength and your tan back, but even if you didn’t, I would still love you.”

“You’re pretty amazing,” he whispered, brushing her hair back from her temple.

“I know.” Grinning, Kensi pressed her lips to his. Deeks dropped one hand to the top of her back, drawing her closer. He moaned softly as the kiss deepened, warmth that had nothing to do with the sun sparking across his skin.

Kensi pulled back with a gasp, licking her bottom lip. She ran her hands down his chest with a regretful sigh.

“Why’d you stop?”

“I don’t think sex is on your doctor-approved activities list,” she pointed out. Deeks pouted.

“Maybe not, but I bet we could find something to do that would be equally fun.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively and ran his eyes down the length of Kensi’s body.

“Let’s give it a couple more weeks.” Kensi patted his chest, fingers lingering for a few extra seconds.

“If you insist,” he sighed dramatically.

“I do. Ok, I’m going to get your afternoon medication and lunch,” she said.

“I think I can manage walking to the kitchen and making a sandwich.”

“I know you can, but you don’t have to.” Kissing him one more time, very quickly, she headed for the back door. “Don’t even think about moving that equipment without me!”

Shaking his head in fond exasperation at Kensi’s scolding, sitting down on the edge of his yoga mat. He still had a long way to go in his recovery, but his future already looked so much better than it had a few months ago.

***

A/N: I didn’t want to get into all the details of organ transplant and recovery in this fic. However, I did want to specify for anyone who isn’t familiar, that organ transplants come with the possibility of lifelong complications, one of those being the risk of the body rejecting the transplant organ. As such, recipients have to take anti-rejection medication for the rest of their lives and take other precautions.

Again, I didn’t want to get into all of that, because as always I think Kensi and Deeks deserve a break and the chance to be happy after everything I’ve put them through. I think there will be just a chapter or two more after this.

[lxvejohnny]

The endless beginning

part five

scream VI fanfiction with implied ethan x oc!

find the masterlist for this fic here. a little shorter than usual, but i had to leave this one on a lil cliffhanger hehe. enjoy!

The seven friends sit on some benches on campus and look in front of them where Mindy stands, ready to give her monologue. Amelie sits at the end of the bench with Sam pressed against her and Chad on the other side. She picks at her nails anxiously as she waits for Mindy to begin talking, gathering them for a needed mandatory meeting. Amelie glances up quickly at Ethan before looking down at her nails again. They haven’t spoken since last night and her heart races at the thought of them together last night, being so close to him. The way he held her so softly and would trace at her scar, listen so intently to her as she talked about her dad, the way his lips just touched hers before their moment was interrupted.

“Okay nerds, listen up. As terrifying as this all is, I’m actually glad I get a chance to redeem myself for not calling the killers last time,” Mindy swallows and straightens up her posture. She shakes her head at the thought that she got it all wrong last time, intended to get it right this time around. “It’s fine.”

“Okay, the way I see it, someone is out to make a sequel to the requel,” Mindy begins again. And the monologue, begins.

“Uhm, what’s a requel?” Anika says raising her hand, interrupting Mindy. Amelie, along with the rest of the crew look confused at the new word.

“You’re beautiful sweetie, lets hold questions until the end,” Mindy points towards Anika and her girlfriend gives her a smile back.

“Stab one took place in Woodsboro,” Sam states, going along with Mindy’s idea. “Stab two took place in college.”

“So, do we think that the killer is trying to copy the movies?” Tara questions and looks towards Mindy.

“That is one possibility. Heroes now in college, check-“ Mindy points to Tara and Amelie “-suspicious new characters brought in to run up the suspect list and or body count. Check, check, and check” Mindy then points to Anika, Quinn, and Ethan.

“I don’t like this,” Ethan shakes his head. Amelie looks at him when he does, of course he doesn’t like this, he was just announced a suspect by Mindy. Mindy of all people, so it can't be good.

“But it can’t just be about Stab two,” Mindy ignores Ethan and continues.

“Why not?” Amelie asks Mindy quizzically.

“It would make sense if this were just a sequel, but we’re not in a sequel because nobody juts makes sequels anymore!” Chad nods his head as if understanding what Mindy is implying about, while Amelie still looks confused. Mindy opens her arms as if she is about to announce a revolutionary idea. “We are in a franchise! And there are certain rules to a continuing franchise.”

“I had a feeling,” Sam says sarcastically and looks down towards her shoes.

“Rule one: everything is bigger than last time. Bigger budget, bigger cast, bigger body count, longer chases, shoot outs, beheadings, you’ve got to top what came before to keep the people coming back,” Mindy ignores Sam as she did Ethan and excitedly lists out the new prospects of a continuing franchise.

“Beheadings?” Chad pauses writing in his notebook and looks at his twin.

“Beheadings!” Mindy says back pointing at Chad.

"Are you writing this down?" Amelie furrows his eyebrow at Chad, her head turns quizzically to the side to look at the boy.

"Of course I am," Chad reciprocates the action and smiles at the girl. He points his pencil at Amelie as he talks. "Gotta be prepared, you know? Mindy talks a lot."

Mindy rolls her eyes at her two before continuing. “Rule two: whatever happened last time, expect the opposite. Franchises only survive by subverting the expectations. If the killers last time were whiny, snowflake, film nerds with letter boxed accounts instead of personalities, you can bet the opposite will be true here.

And rule three: no one is safe. Legacy characters, cannon fodder at this point. Usually brought back, only to be killed off in some cheap, bit for nostalgia. It’s not looking too good for Gale and Kirby,” Amelie looks at Mindy in concern. Gale? She knows that Mindy is an expert when it comes to her horror movie theories, but this one is wrong. It has to be. Mindy looks at Amelie with a grimace and mouths a ‘sorry’. She makes a dramatic groan and continues, “Ughh, and that’s not even the worst part.”

Chad looks down at his notebook and sarcastically says, “oh! This is the part where she tells us the worst part.” 

“The worst part is the franchises are just continuing episodic instalments designed to boost an IP,” Mindy has been very expressive this whole conversation and continues to hold her arms out as she talks, “which means main characters are completely expendable now, too.

Laurie Strodd, Nancy Thompson, Ellen Ripley, Sally Hardesty, Jigsaw, Tony Stark, James Bond, I mean even Luke Skywalker, all die so that their franchise can live on. That means it’s not just the friend group, any of us can go at any time,” With a grimace she looks over at Tara, Sam, and Amelie, and adds, “especially you three.”

“Wait-wait any of us?” Ethan interrupts once more and looks concerned at the rest of his friends. “Does-am-am I in the friend group? Am I like one of the targets? Am I gonna die a virgin?”

Everyone looks either confused or taken aback from his words. Amelie tilts her head at him and squints her eyes, also confused on his choice of words. She thinks the whole group could have gone without knowing his personal information. She was bound to experience an ick at one point.

“That was a weird overshare,” Mindy practically speaks Amelie’s mind. “But it brings us to our current suspect, Ethan! The shy, dorky guy who no one suspects because he’s so shy and dorky.”

“Okay why-why am I on the suspect list? Because I’m randomly Chad’s roommate?” Ethan almost looks offended by Mindy’s accusation and directs his hand over to Chad at the mention of the guy.

“Roommate lotteries can be juked, you could have fixed it to get next to us,” Mindy says pointedly to which Ethan just rolls his eyes and stays quiet. "Plus...you may now have a conflict of interest, being a potential love interest and all."

Mindy gestures to Amelie and the girl sits up straight, both her and Ethan widen their eyes. Tara and Chad smirk at the panic that ensued on their friends faces and Chad teasingly nudges Amelie with his elbow. Mindy doesn't dwell on the conversation longer and moves on to Amelie’s redheaded roommate, beginning again.

“Quinn. The slutty roommate, a horror movie-“ Mindy puts her fingers together with one hand and makes a kiss sound, “-classic.”

“Sex positive, but thank you?” Quinn replies with a confused look on her face, not quite sure how to interpret the comment.

“Mhm, uhm, how did you come to live with these three ladies?” Mindy doesn’t take her eyes off Quinn’s face as she poses the question.

“I answered their ad online-“ the three girls nod in agreement. Mindy raises her hand to Quinn’s face, “-okay! Say no more, you’ve already implicated yourself enough.”

“It was an anonymous ad, Mindy-” Amelie butts in. She wasn’t going to rule Quinn out completely, but she also wasn’t going to necessarily agree with Mindy’s assumption.

“-yeah, and you know we vetted her. Plus, her dad is a cop.” Tara adds to Amelie’s defense of their roommate.

“And that makes it more likely that she’s the killer because having a cop dad is a great coverage. Do you not remember how these movies work, ladies?” She says enthusiastically and looks directly at Tara and Amelie. The latter widens her eyes and looks over at Tara who turned to her at the same time where they shared a look of surprise.

“Is she always like this?” Quinn quips.

“My dad was a cop, too, Mindy,” Amelie turns back to Mindy pointedly and continues to defend her friend. Sure, she wasn’t as close to Quinn as she was with Sam or Tara, but they did get along very well. Some nights they stayed up in the living room and would watch re-runs of Friends while chatting about Quinn’s latest guy. Besides her having faith that her roommate was not the killer, Mindy’s point about Quinn’s dad being cop does not make all that much sense when she, the daughter of Dewey Riley, is still alive and can be trusted. Quinn looks around the two sitting in between her and Amelie and gives the girl a grateful smile.

“Oh, sweetie," Mindy almost tuts at the girl. Mindy tones down her enthusiasm as she talks about her best friend’s dead dad. "Your dad was a cop, yes, but he also was an original."

Was an original, the words replay in Amelie’s head, and she frowns. “Plus, you and Dewey could always be trusted, Amie. It is a completely different circumstance.”

Mindy smiles at the girl and Amelie nods, deciding that she guesses Mindy is right and decides not to add more.

“And finally, Anika,” Anika blows a kiss where Mindy purses her lips back, “Never trust the love interest.”

Both their smiles fall from their face and Anika looks away.

“Okay, so, we have our rules and we have our suspects-“ Sam pipes in, about to ask Mindy what is next once they have all their bases laid out.

“-Woah, wait, wait. What about you guys?” Ethan gestures to the survivors from the last killings. His eyes glaze over the five of them but his focus passes Amelie faster than the other four. He felt bad for bringing this up, especially against Amelie, but he knew he had to get the attention off of him and his sister.

Amelie looks at him confused, puzzled by his suggestion. “What about us?” 

“I mean, I think it’s pretty safe to rule out the five of us who went through this last year in Woodsboro,” Mindy says crossing her arms over her chest.

“Agreed,” Chad says smiling and points his pencil at his sister

“Uhm, not agreed. What if the trauma you all went through caused one or more of you to snap?” Quinn says. Amelie looks especially looks offended, along with the rest of the crew. She just defended Quinn from Mindy when she was ruled a suspect but then accuses her and the rest to also be suspects?

"What?" Amelie lets out a breathy laugh of disbelief, no humor laced in it.

“Yeah, or the fame you got from the killings made you thirsty for more?” Ethan jumps back in to agree with Quinn. He glances around the friend group but misses Amelie’s eyes as he continues, “I mean, to be honest here some of the theories online about Sam are-“

“-don’t you fucking dare,” Tara stops his sentence, threateningly. Ethan’s eyes widen in response, and he stops talking.

“Okay, she’s right though. Face facts, if we are all suspects, you are all suspects,” Anika gestures to the five. They all share looks, and Amelie shakes her head in disbelief. Guess it’s only fair, huh?

"Well," Amelie breaks the awkward silence, standing up. "I have a class to get to, so I'm gonna go."

Frankly, she was a little annoyed. She defended Quinn and really liked Ethan, for the both of them to produce ideas of how her and her friends may be the killers. She also knows how enthusiastic Mindy is about her knowledge when it comes to horror related things, especially when it is her turn to redeem herself for last years events. But, she really wasn't too keen on the idea that Gale could be at risk again, that her and her friends may not live, and that it could very possibly be one of her friends that is doing this again.

Amelie grabs her bag from off the ground and slings it over her shoulder, she gives her friends a tight lipped smile before walking to her class. Her friends were fast to catch on to Amelie's sour attitude and figured that this whole conversation may have been too much for her.

"Someone should probably..." Chad points to the girl walking away.

"She may just need space," Mindy says, watching her go before placing herself down on the bench. Ethan looks back and watches Amelie's figure get smaller as the distance gets larger. He wants to go after her, but he knows that he was also probably one of the reasons why her mood got brought down.

"I'll go check on-" Ethan begins, about to stand up from his spot on the bench.

"I got it, Romeo," Anika cuts him off. She stands up and grabs her bag from behind her. She heads over to give Mindy a kiss and then pats Ethan's shoulder as she stands next to him. "I have the same class as her anyways."

Ethan's shoulders deflate as he watches Anika go after Amelie, internally angry at getting his chance to be alone with the girl again, ruined. Chad gives him a pitiful smile, and Ethan wants nothing more than to just punch his face.

"Hey, Amie!" Anika calls out to the girl and Amelie stops in her tracks upon hearing her name being called. Anika is quick to catch up to her and links arms with the girl. They continue walking, getting closer to the building they have to enter. "You know what usually cheers me up?"

"What?" Amelie peers to her left where Anika stands.

"Coffee," Anika grins at her. Amelie can't help but let a smile creep up on her face at Anika's attitude.

"You know, I don't actually think it's you or any of you guys, in fact," Anika starts again, guiding them in the direction of the coffee shop that the two girls stop at every time they are together on campus.

"Yeah, I know," Amelie sighs. She knows that Anika doesn't think so, and she knows that Anika is definitely not the one who could be doing this. But, some of her friends did, specifically that one curly haired boy, and it upset her.

"Actually, I think that if this fucker ever tries anything with us, I can distract them with my good looks and you can take the opportunity to beat their ass."

"Anika, this isn't a joke," Amelie looks at her cheesy smile and wants to laugh along, but can't with the severity of the situation.

"No, I know," Anika nods at the girl, but doesn't let the smile let up from her face. If anyone was going to put Amelie in a better mood, it would be Anika and they both knew that. "I am being so serious."

Amelie lets out a laugh, finally, and rests her head against Anika's as they continue walking.

"Also, you have got to tell me what the hell is happening with you and Ethan," Anika lifts her head, prompting Amelie to lift hers as well and look at Anika. A blush rises on her cheeks and her smile never wavers.

"Oh, my god."

~

The sun was now setting and the sky was filled with hues of orange and yellow. Amelie was finally done with her classes today, and was thankful that she was finally able to head home after todays events. Her urge to sleep grew stronger the longer she stayed at school, already getting only a couple of hours in this morning. Anika was already gone to her place where they were all going to meet up and sleepover tonight, offering to stay in campus and wait until Amelie was done but the girl declined. Letting her know that she would be okay on her own. But now, as she walks outside of campus by herself and the light outside is dimming, she wasn't so sure of that anymore. Now that Ghostface is back and someone was out there, intending to kill her and her friends, maybe it wasn't the best idea to be by herself.

Normally she would have her earbuds in, listening to her music or a podcast as she walks alone, but she figured that having all of her senses not obstructed may be the best idea.

The girl flinches when she hears her phone ring and pulls it out of her pocket. Unknown Caller is the ID that comes up on her phone and her heart drops. She knows by now what that means and who it is. She takes a look around to see if she can see the familiar mask standing nearby, but she sees nothing suspicious. But she is also not dumb, she knows that they have to be somewhere near her, knowing that she was alone right now. Her finger hovers over the green button, about to pick up the call when she feels a hand on her shoulder and flinches. Spinning around in panic, she comes face to face with Dean and not Ghostface. Her shoulders still tense, and she takes a weary step back from Dean.

"Dean, hi," Her voice is small and shaky. Her heart is still pounding in her chest, and she looks down to see her phone ring two more times before the call ends.

"Hey, I just saw you walking and decided to come say hi," Dean smiles at the girl and notices her rigid stance and the way her eyes were looking around them. "Are-are you okay? Were you waiting for someone?"

"What?" Amelie stops looking around the two for the killer and back at Dean's concerned face. "No, no! You just scared me, is all."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," Dean apologizes to the girl. Her nerves are still heavy, but she has since calmed down a bit. "Like I said, just wanted to come say hi. I didn't get to see you again at the party."

"I know, I am really sorry about that," Her face cringes at the thought of her just leaving Dean by himself. "My friend just had an emergency, needed to go help out."

"It's all good, I'm just glad I could catch you again," Dean shakes his head in dismissal and smiles. "Uh, are you heading home?"

"Yeah, I just finished up."

"By yourself?" Dean questions the girl. "Just, have you heard the news? There might be a killer on the loose, maybe you should be careful to not go out by yourself."

"Yeah, I've heard," Of course she has heard, she has lived it. "I was just-"

Her phone rings for a second time, the same Unknown Caller ID flashes on her screen and her hand tightens around the device. She watches as it rings and looks back up at Dean who is furrowing his eyebrows at the girl.

"Are you gonna get that?"

Dean probably thinks I am crazy, the girl thinks. She is so fidgety, flinching at everything, and is looking around her like there are ghosts speaking to her from every direction.

"Uh, no," Amelie mutters and clicks the power button on the side of her phone, silencing the ringing. She is sure that will only piss the killer off more, but if she answers then Dean may be put more at risk and he will start questioning her when he hears her speak to a voice about killing her and her friends. "Actually, if you're not busy, do you think you can walk with me? For a bit?"

If the killer was calling her, then the chances of Dean being in on it was slim. Though, they usually work in pairs. She wasn't going to let him walk her all the way to her apartment, so he at least won't find out where she lives. But, close enough where she can walk alone for only a short amount of time and make it back safe and sound.

"Yeah, of course. I was going to offer, anyways," Dean nods his head with a small smile, and they head off.

For the next couple of minutes, Amelie explains why she had to leave the party so suddenly, to which Dean explains that it is totally okay, though he was a little disappointed that he didn't get to see her again that night. They also got to know each other a little more, to continue their conversation.

"If it's okay, would it be possible if i got your number?" Dean bites the bullet and asks her. He swears he has never been so nervous to ask a girl out before, but he was sweating right now. Amelie looks taken a back and the two stop in place.

"Oh," Amelie can't say she has had many guys ask her for her number, so she naturally is quite surprised. Though, they have already touched tongues so maybe they were finally catching up to the courteous actions that usually take place before kissing. Dean notices the hesitance on her face and is about to apologize, but Amelie beats him to it. "Yeah, sure."

She pulls her phone out again and opens it, getting to her contacts to pull up an empty one. She gets this weird feeling like she is almost...guilty. Cheating, almost, on Ethan. But they aren't official, they have only almost kissed and know that there is a mutual feeling shared between the two. So, she figures that there is no harm in swapping numbers with Dean. It is not like she was intending on pursuing him, she already had eyes on Ethan and him only.

As Amelie hands her hand to Dean for him to put his number in her phone, it rings again. Her heart starts pumping, thinking that it was going to be the killer again.

"Uh, Ethan is calling you," Dean hands her phone back to her and tries to gauge her reaction at the mention of his name. Amelie's heart returns to a normal pace upon hearing that it was Ethan calling her and not Ghostface.

"Oh, yeah, he's my...friend," Amelie gives Dean a smile. "I should probably get this, just one second."

"Hey," Amelie steps back to have a little bit of privacy.

"Hey, Amie! I was just wondering if you got home okay, I know you're done later today at school," Ethan's soft voice comes through the phone and she smiles upon hearing it.

"Yeah, I was just headed home now actually."

"Oh okay, good. Wait, are you walking alone?" She can hear the concern laced in his voice, feeling herself go soft at his worry for her.

"Uh, I was," Amelie bites her lip, contemplating on if she should tell Ethan that she was no longer alone, and now with the boy she was making out with at the party. Again, they weren't dating, but why does she feel so guilty about being with another boy? "I'm not anymore, though."

"Who is with you?"

Ethan doesn't need her to answer, he knows. He can see Dean stand a couple of feet away from her, watching her pace back and forth as she was on the phone with him. His blood boils watching the boy even be so close to the girl, his girl. He was possessive and jealous when they weren't even official, he knows that, but fuck. He is the one who loves Amelie, he is the one who she got to kiss sober, and he is the one who she thought about when her lips were on Dean's.

"Uh, Dean, the uh-the guy from the party," Amelie grimaces, back turned to Dean so he couldn't see the expression on her face when she said his name.

The urge to take his knife and stab it right into his stomach, watch that stupid smirk fall off his face was so intense. He tried his best to not let his voice waver while on the phone, but his patience was running thin the longer he had to look at that guy and he hadn't even done anything. Besides ask for her number. He knew it was the perfect time to call her, again, but with his name this time around right as she was going to let him slip his number into her phone. Hopefully, fast enough to not give him enough time to do so.

"Oh."

"But, it's not like that. Don't worry," Amelie was quick to reassure him when she heard his short response.

Ethan chuckles through the phone, kind of glad that she was fast to let him know that it wasn't like that; like he had thought. "Just be careful around him, please. Call me if anything happens."

He then tells her to text him when she gets home, and that he was sorry for what he said with their friends. She reassures him that she is over it and to not worry, along with wishing him to enjoy his late class tonight, and that she will see him tomorrow.

Ethan stays where he is standing, watching the two walk off and thinks of ways he could get to Dean after he drops Amelie off. He would do something now, approach the two with his mask and cloak on but he doesn't want to scare Amelie. Nor does he want to hurt her, which will be suspicious if he only attacks Dean and not her. So, he stays in the shadows for now, thinking of having Amelie in his arms again and the satisfaction that will come from watching the blood flow out of Dean's body.

The night has now fallen, darkness surrounding the sky and only the lights of the lamp posts and the city to light it up. Amelie and Dean walk further for a couple of more minutes, Amelie checking behind her again every now and then to make sure no one was following them. Once they got close enough to where Amelie should be able to walk by herself, she stops them and thanks Dean for walking her home.

"Uh, my number saved, right?" Dean asks. He may sound desperate, and he knows it, but something about Amelie stuck out to him and he couldn't let it go.

"Yeah, it did," Amelie smiled at him. She looks behind him and her smile drops when she notices a tall figure watch them in the distance, the familiar face of the ghost mask staring back at her.

"We have to go, now," Amelie is quick to grab his hand and take them down a different route.

"What? What the hell is going on?" Dean notices the panic that fell upon Amelie's face when she looked behind him. She stays quiet and quickly pulls him along, wondering what the fuck she was going to do now with Ghostface following her.

"Amelie! What did you see?" Dean tugs at her hand and she looks back at him.

"You know the news you were talking about earlier? With the deaths of the students and the Ghostface masks?"

"Uh, yeah. Yes, I remember."

"I saw him, just now."

"What? That could have just been some rando dressing up as him."

"Dean," Amelie says his name so stern, it reminded him of the way a mother would scold her child. "Trust me, I just know."

"Yeah, okay, okay. I trust you, let's go around then," Dean nods his head at her, eyes wide at how quick paced this whole situation was. He could barely even register what was happening, only the pure panic and fear that Amelie reeked of.

Dean and Amelie manage to take a massive detour, thirty minutes later than what was expected and Amelie was starting to get texts and calls from her friends wondering where the hell she is. Dean ended up walking running with Amelie to her apartment building, taking the odd street or alleyway to ensure Ghostface wasn't following them. The two were panting as they stopped, and said their goodbyes.

"Hey, thanks again," Amelie says one last time. "And, be careful, please. Just look out for anyone being weird or following you."

"We live in New York, Amelie, there are many of weird-acting people," Dean tries and chuckles but stops when he sees her expression still hard and scared. "I will be careful, I promise."

"Thank you." Amelie sends him a tight lipped smile and heads inside her building, sprinting up the stairs and to her apartment door. What a long fucking day.

~

By the time Amelie gets home, she fills her friends in on what happened back at campus. From the phone calls, to Dean finding her, Ethan calling her, and then to them being stalked. They grew concerned as soon as she walked through her front door, panting with sweat covering her forehead. Anika even apologized profusely for listening to Amelie and leaving her by herself. Of course, Amelie tells her that it is not her fault and that she made it out okay, after all.

Sam suggest that they tell Detective Bailey about what happened, just to let him know that the killer was there with Amelie on campus, to which they do. She then gives him a rundown on what happened, who she was with, and where. He reassures her that he will try and see if there were any security cameras on campus where she was, to see if they can find anything with it. They hangup shortly after, which leads them to now, where Mindy and her get put in charge of setting the table together.

Mindy and Amelie start setting up the table by Amelie putting the plates down and Mindy following along with the cutlery.

“I’m glad you have Anika, you know,” Amelie breaks the peaceful silence and looks at Mindy. She is glad that they have moved past talking about what happened earlier, and decides to change the subject to something a bit more lively. “You can tell she makes you happy.”

“Thank you, Amie,” Mindy smiles bashfully at Amelie. “I know I ruled her as a suspect, but she has helped me, a lot. With everything after moving.”

Amelie nods her head in understanding. Her mind begins to wander as silence consumes the two again. With a new killer on the loose, she just hopes that the lives of her friends remain unharmed through it all. She thinks about Mindy and Anika’s relationship and the hope there is for the two of them. Along with her own friendship with the girl, and how she treasures Anika so dearly to her. “It can’t be Anika; I am sure of it.”

“I don’t want to lose her,” Mindy states to Amelie. For the first time, Mindy shows her weariness in this whole thing. Amelie thinks about Wes when Mindy talks about Anika. If there is anything that Amelie could do to go back and save him, and her dad, she would. She also doesn’t want her best friend to end up going through the same grief that she once did. Amelie shakes her head at Mindy and pulls the girl to look at her, “You won’t. I will do anything i can to make sure she stays alive.”

Amelie looks back to Anika on the couch, then to her friends to the kitchen and back at Mindy before letting out a laugh, “To keep you all alive, actually.”

Mindy shares a grateful smile with Amelie. The girl quickly became one of her best friends from the day she met her back at in Woodsboro and it hasn’t changed since. The two turn to the kitchen once they hear the conversation between Chad and Tara. They share a look of disgust before Amelie pretends to gag as Mindy holds her hair while cringing. It catches the attention of the couple, and they turn to see the two girls make a scene.

“Will you two just make out already?” Mindy says before letting go of Amelie’s hair. The shorter girl laughs while Chad pauses stirring the pasta and calls them inappropriate.

“Ugh, whatever,” Mindy replies and throws her hands up. “Get it over with.”

The two walk into the kitchen looking at one another with a sly smile and join Tara, Chad, and Sam.

“Sam, we do not have to stay here,” Mindy tells Sam. The older girl recruited them all back to their apartment to stay together after the small intervention Mindy had with them all. She figured that it would be better if they all stuck together, since they all know that the killer usually takes them out one by one when they are all alone. She also suggested that they make dinner and have a fun family night on, which of course, they couldn’t pass up the idea.

“Well, too bad. I insist,” Sam reaches for a bottle of red wine from on top of the fridge. “Safety in numbers.”

“This will be so fun, a little slumber party with the Force of Five,” Chad smiles and says excitedly, matching the expression of a small child.

“Force of Five?” Amelie questions him with a smirk.

“Did you just give us a nickname?” Tara adds in, looking at Chad.

“I sure did. I mean we’ve been through a lot together and, it’s a pretty cool nickname,” He smiles and nods.

“That’s debatable-” Sam mutters.

“-that’s extremely debatable” Tara adds to Sam’s comment.

“You can’t just give yourself a nickname, dingus.” Mindy says looking at her brother with sass.

“Oh, of course I can, dingus, because I just did.” He replies with attitude.

“Force of Five up top,” Her puts his hand up for Mindy to hit. “No.”

“Down below,” He moves to Tara. “Get that away from me.”

“Just one high-five, please, Amie,” He turns to Amelie, pleading with his eyes. She laughs and shakes her head at him.

“Please for the love of god,” He ends at Sam, with his hand still up.

“Don’t do it,” Mindy says looking at Sam. They all start to chuckle at the situation.

“You know, I would actually like a little more respect and support from the fellow members of the Force of Five-”

“Guys!” They hear Anika yell from the next room. “What the hell?”

As they all pile into the room, they hear the TV reporter start talking about how the prime suspect for the murders is Samantha Carpenter. The news channel shows the video of Sam pushing the girl, the same video they were showed down at the police station. As the reporter speaks about last year’s Woodsboro killings and Richie, Sam grabs the remote from Anika and turns the TV off then makes her way to the kitchen table and takes a seat. Tara soon follows her and takes a seat before engaging in a conversation. Amelie stands back with the other three to let the sisters have their space.

“These people are so full of shit,” Amelie shakes her head. Chad comes up behind Amelie and places his hand on her shoulder. “Yeah, yeah they are.”

From the kitchen table they overhear Sam talking about how she hates being so hated by everyone and they start walking towards the sisters.

“Hey, hey,” Chad starts, announcing their arrival. “Just a reminder, not a single person in this room hates you, okay? We have all been through some fucked up stuff and we are coping with it differently. But I mean we moved here together for one very specific reason; we are a team.”

Sam lets a smile through as her brimming eyes don’t release another tear.

“We are-“ Mindy speaks up “-the Force of the fucking Five.”

“Thank you very much,” Chad leans in to give her a high five and Amelie lets out a breathy laugh.

“I hate myself,” Mindy says as her hand connects with her brothers. They all share a chuckle and smile at each other before they speak at once, trying to get the rest of the girls to say the silly name Chad came up with.

“Say it.”

“No, I am not going to say it. I mean yes we’re a team but-“

“It doesn’t even rhyme that well-“

“I’ve been sleeping with cute boy from across the hall,” Sam confesses amidst the voices of her friends. She looks up, worried what her friends’ reactions may be until they all release themselves into a group of noise once more.

“Boom!”

“I knew it!”

“I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!”

“Called it!”

From just the other side of the hall, Sam’s newly revealed rendezvous man glances at the window that connects to their apartment, specifically into Quinn’s room. He makes an effort to call out, catching the attention of Ghostface, and tries his best to get someone’s attention from inside the apartment. While he waves his hands and yells out to gain their attention, the five friends put their hands in the middle to connect while laughing at the moment. Almost speaking him into existence, Sam’s phone rings as Danny’s contact brightens up the screen. Tara snatches the phone and shows the group of friends where they all start giggling and reach for it.

“No, Tara, no,” Sam says smiling.

“Hey, so, what are your intentions?” Tara jokingly answers the phone, and they laugh again.

“I’ll-I’ll call him back,” Sam says before declining the call. She just wants to enjoy the moment with her family around her. They all quiet down as they hear noises coming from Quinn’s room. The sound of moans and grunts exude past the barriers of the wall and the group smirks at each other.

“Oh, my god, Quinn and her gentleman caller are back at it again,” Tara says slyly.

“Hey, at least she is having a good time,” Amelie says with a smile.

"Just like you were at that party with Mr. Dreamy," Tara giggles at the girl, causing them all to smile and tease Amelie. Chad mentioning the smudged lipstick he caught on the boys lips.

“Get into it, okay,” Mindy also adds, looking towards the direction of Quinn’s door and then at Amelie, nudging her hand on the table.

Their giggles make another round but at a quieter volume this time around. Suddenly all of their phones make a noise as they presumably receive a text. Sharing a weird glance between the five, they all pick up their phones to take a look; an airdrop request from Danny pops up with a picture of Ghostface attacking Quinn from inside her room. The five and Anika all get up and rush to the outside of Quinn’s door where a blood curling scream erupts from behind the slab of wood, followed by the sound of thuds and crashes. They all pause and look towards the door. Amelie’s hand grabs onto Sam’s as they look straight ahead.

Silence ensues before Mindy calls out “run”, and nothing would quite prepare Amelie or her friends for the experience they would have to endure.

[hexpea]

Ch. 11 - A Father's Stoicism

The weekend arrived quicker than you had liked. You were excited to see Tsumiki, but you kept double thinking your plot of having a fake boyfriend. But at the same time, you wanted that revenge. You wanted to put your husband through the same pain that you had felt, and that emotion was much more powerful than your morals, at least for the time being. 

As soon as you met eyes with Toji at the train station, there was no turning back. You swallowed hard, gave yourself a few positive thoughts, and completed your approach.

"Hello, girlfriend," Toji teased, his hands casually in the pockets of his white, cotton pants. He had the best shit-eating grin you'd ever seen. It nearly made you giggle.

"Hello, boyfriend," you greeted back with a cute grin, blushing at his teasing. Again, you were dressed casually considering the outing, keeping things light with yet another t-shirt/shorts combo. You were always thankful to get out of those tight-fitting yukatas that were mandatory at the Zenin's. "Thanks again for doing this. I'm hoping I can scare him straight or...something."

"Scaring him will definitely be achieved," Toji nodded. "But the 'or something,' I don't think it's going to stop him from sleeping with that bimbo."

"Right, our relationship is deader than dead," you sighed and looked down, again feeling bad about your deception.

"But, the scaring him part will definitely be worth it," he retracted. He then placed a heavy hand on your shoulder for motivation. "We're still doing this, right?" He raised an eyebrow in your direction, a light smile on his scarred face. You gave a single nod in confirmation as the train pulled into the station.

It was a quiet ride back to your hometown, but before you knew it you were walking off of the platform with Toji.  The day was bright and welcoming, just as you had remembered your old town before things started going south with Masaru.

"Ah, yes, the sticks," Toji commented as he walked away from the station with you. He took a deep breath of the fresh country air. "Nothing quite like it."

"Is that an insult?" You chuckled and looked back at him as he followed you across the street.

"Definitely not," he confirmed with a chuckle, stretching his arms wide after being on the cramped train for far too long. 

The pair of you continued walking until you made it to the front door of your building, a small apartment complex that could house four small families.  This time you had told Masaru that you'd be coming, so you were hoping that the woman you saw before wouldn't be there. Luckily, you were correct.

"H-hello," Masaru answered the door, at first confident, but that quickly faded away after he saw the tall, dark figure behind you. "Who is this?" 

"This is..." you had to suddenly think of a name, "Matteo Russo, my boyfriend," you lied, quickly coming up with the worst name possible without thinking. Matteo Russo was the main character from one of your American romance novels that you were currently reading, it was the first thing on your mind when asked for a name. Toji even blinked hard a few times to make sure he heard you correctly.

"M-Matteo Russo?" Masaru double checked. "But he's...Japanese, right?"

"Yes, sir," Toji quickly answered for you, "but raised in southern Italy by foreigners, and moved here for family." Toji suddenly stepped in front of you and entered the apartment without being welcomed. Genius, you thought. Toji had honestly saved your ass there, even though the situation still seemed highly fabricated.

"I see...your Japanese is...impeccable," Masaru quietly noted, the statement being ignored by Toji.

You followed Toji close behind and found Tsumiki happily playing on the living room floor with her favorite cartoon on the television.  Masaru allowed you and Toji to get settled. You chose to play with Tsumiki on the floor with Toji coolly watching you while seated on one of the sofas, paying close attention to how some of your features matched Tsumiki's. Quietly, he recognized a feeling in his chest and quickly quieted it, ignoring its presence.

Masaru returned from the kitchen with some light snacks and sat on the sofa opposite the one Toji was seated on. "Onigiri?" He asked as he sat the plate down on the small coffee table in front of the sofas.

"I'm good, thanks," Toji answered, waving one of his hands that rested on the back of the couch as a dismissal. 

"So...Matteo," Masaru began, "what do you do for a living?" The question halted you in your tracks, you tried to continue playing but you had to let Toji cover lest suspicion arise.

"Janitorial services," Toji answered simply, as if he'd answered that question millions of times before. "Specialized janitorial services, it's freelance work."

"Freelance...janitor services?" Masaru repeated in suspicion. It just didn't sound like a real title.

"Yeah, crime scenes," Toji was quick on his feet, "stuff like that."

"Oh. Got it," Masaru was quickly silenced. He held onto the coffee mug he had brought in for dear life as the tension in the air only got heavier. 

Eventually, the three of you began to munch on the onigiri. It was lunchtime after all and it would be a shame to waste food. Conversation remained light with the only noise in the room mostly being the television and Tsumiki's happy, little noises and scattered words.

"Welp," Masaru stood up and grabbed the now empty plate, "I'm gonna' work on some chores. Let me know if you need anything," he muttered and left for the kitchen which was a few steps away and within visible range of the living space.

At this point Tsumiki was happily enthralled with the cartoon on the television, occupying herself. You got up off the floor and sat beside Toji, close enough to give space but to still seem like a couple. His arm was still on the back of the couch behind you, which you hoped your husband would see as a sign of affection.

Toji was busy using his pinkie to pick some of the seaweed from his molar. You then noticed how Masaru was eyeing you up from the sink where he washed dishes. He would cautiously glance without turning his head, telling you only one thing: he was still skeptical and unthreatened. 

You carefully elbowed Toji to snag his attention to which he looked down toward the flip phone in your lap. You then began texting out the words, "he's not buying it." 

After seeing your message, Toji took a deep breath and began to think. You, too, began to think of what little moments would truly convince Masaru that you'd moved on -- and with an intimidating stranger to boot. 

In that moment, Toji fully draped his arm around you and made sure to press you closer to his side. You felt his muscular rib cage against your upper arm, causing your heart to beat a little faster. At this point you were close enough to smell his natural musk. It was clear he was a simple man of simply staying clean, not caring about fancy, expensive colognes. It was almost...intoxicating, pulling you in in some sense. 

Without any other warning, Toji then continued to take action, leaning downward to give you a brief kiss on the top of your head. He made sure to linger for a few moments, his lips warm on your scalp. It was now safe to say your heart was beating well out of your chest at this moment. You couldn't tell if it was just nerves from potentially getting caught or if it was...something else.

But you needed to return it, you needed to show signs that you were in love with the man next to you and it needed to be convincing.  You began to sweat as you thought of ideas. Toji had kissed your head casually, so kissing wasn't off the table, you determined. 

You took a moment to work up the nerve as Toji's lingered kiss began to pull away from your head. Before he could pull completely away, your hand came up to caress his cheek. You leaned upward while coaxing his face downward gently with your hand.  Toji wasn't resisting in any way and seemed to be playing along well; this eased your nerves even further. 

In a single, soft moment, eyes closed, your lips met his. They were a bit chapped, and his cheek was a bit rough from some 5 o'clock shadow that was coming in. But overall, he was a good kisser. He had a certain confidence in the way that he returned the kiss but let you lead. You could feel the subtle scar against the one side of your own lips, the thumb against his cheek lightly brushing over it as you held your hand there.

But suddenly something began to shift, unexpectedly for the both of you. Instinctually and unaware of his surroundings, Toji's hand traveled to your waist and the kiss deepened. It was as if he were taking over and he hadn't a care in the world for who was in the room. Your body began to melt as you also forgot the time and place.  Expertly, Toji maneuvered the kiss to where your lips parted, his tongue pushing past your teeth to where it could mingle with yours. You could feel the rough texture of your tongue giving way to Toji's, hot breath exchanged in a single moment of unexplained passion between near strangers. 

After a short second in this state, you claimed back your autonomy and yanked yourself from him. Toji savagely wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, revealing a close-lipped smile of satisfaction. You, on the other hand, had a beet red face and were attempting to compose yourself. 

"We have to get going!" You suddenly declared, voice cracking out of nerves. "Can't be late!"

"Okay..." Masaru replied, demeanor still on edge but at this point thoroughly convinced from the show you just put on. "I guess I'll see you in two weeks," he muttered, coming into the living area to see you out. You said your brief goodbye to Tsumiki and began to head for the door.

"See you later, shithead," Toji, a man of few words, patted your husband heavily on the back as the two of you exited through the front door. His pats were heavy enough to nearly knock the wind out of the man who had an angry look on his face.

Meanwhile, you were feeling a certain mix of emotions. Excitement, anger, confusion, and a bit of...lust?

[dxliqhted01]

A/N: Before I get into this, I'd like to make some notes! Welcome to my little story thing which I've yet to name. I made this on a whim, so it's not good...but I hope you'll enjoy it! The only reason I've decided to post this is because I haven't been drawing, apologies! Thank you for reading this and without further ado, here is the story! (Story of my KNK (Kara no Kioku) Oc) (aaa the anxiety!!)

Prologue

Yuuko had always had a disinterest in people, preferring to dwell in her warm world of fiction and distance herself from reality. Her habit was annoying. It was rather bothersome, a chore, as it were. She had found herself getting a sensation of anxiety and the feeling of panic whenever she talked to people, particularly strangers or people she weren't particularly close to. On top of that, she had such thoughts as "this is such a pain" or "why won't anyone shut up?" whenever she interacted with the outside world. It was as if she lacked desire, only being able to feel alive when distracted in a world unexisting, and lacking emotions. Such a lukewarm feeling had been straddling on her shoulders ever since she could remember. No, saying that would be a lie. She remembered exactly when it had happened, and what the problem was. Or rather, who.

"Uko-chan!"

A voice called to Yuuko from a too-close-for-comfort range.

"Uko-chan, Uko-chan!"

The girl's eyes fluttered open with a few quick blinks before she lifted her gaze upwards, as if she was looking at the sky, or rather the ceiling. She didn't put in the effort to lift her head, as if she already anticipated what was meeting with her gaze. A young boy, appearing to be a childhood age, hovered over her face, a broad smile filled his facial features. However, this was no ordinary boy. The boy's eyes looked as if they were made out of shadows, pitch-black and lifeless, he also had an odd mark plastered on his left cheek. Yuuko was sure it wasn't a scar.

The problem was here. He was always here. It was always by her side.

Speaking truthfully, Yuuko blamed him for her unfulfilling lifestyle, her habit to distance herself. He was the reason for her emptiness. As if that wasn't enough reason to detest him, he was odd, loud, annoying and misleading, all the qualities she hated in a person. If he counted as a person, she didn't know. However, Yuuko had an understanding that he wouldn't leave. He would always be there for her, so she didn't need friends, or to talk to people. The only thing that was mandatory to keep, was him.

Yuuko raised an eyebrow as the boy was straddled on her shoulders.

"What is it, Haruki?" She spoke in a whisper, as to not come off as a freak.

After all, she was in the middle of class.

"Nevermind! Haruki thought Uko-chan was asleep!" Haruki, in contraindication, had zero hesitation, his voice in a childish near retort.

No, the reason wasn't because she was in class. It was because Haruki was invisible, invisible to everyone except her. They couldn't see him, nor hear him. Was he a hallucination? The thought had crossed her mind, but no, she had confirmed he was very, very, real. Perhaps everyone else was fake and him and herself were the only real beings in the world.

At least, she wanted that to be the case.

The girl let out the quietest possible sigh she could, before returning her eyes straightforward. The teacher was continuing his lecture, fortunately not noticing Yuuko supposedly talking to herself. How weird would that be? The teacher would probably be terrified of her. What kind of psychopath does that? Talk to herself in the middle of class, the audacity.

But she was calmed by the reality that he continued his boring lecture without a care, though she already knew all of the answers, she devoted the rest of the lesson to concentrating on her work after her daydream. The inhuman boy observed quietly.

Eventually, sixth period came to an end and it was time for the students to return home. Yuuko finished packing her belongings into her schoolbag in a flash, and had already rushed out of the door before anyone could talk to her. Who would dare to perform such a stunt, she wondered. But she could never be certain about anything, expect the unexpected, they say. She was trying to convince herself it was that, but she knew it was mere paranoia.

Haruki floated beside her as she walked, his feet lifted from the ground, levitating. Yuuko paid no mind to glance at him, she knew he was always by her side.

She continued her way out of the school, giving curt head bows if anyone greeted her, before she reached the shoe box. She placed her bag down and hurriedly took her shoes off, applying her outdoor ones and placing her indoor ones back into the box. She grabbed her bag and briskly left the school gates, not daring to look back for company. Finally leaving the gates, she slowed her pace as she was confident no one would follow her. If they did, she could easily call them out for stalking, since there was no one she was particularly close with. But instead of going home, Yuuko took a sharp turn in her route and at last, she was alone.

"Where is Uko-chan going today?" Haruki inquired, curious of today's detour.

"Somewhere quiet, with no people." She answered bluntly, though she had intended for her tone to be softer than that.

"No people? Isn't that lonely?"

"I've been surrounded by people the entire day, I think school is enough social interaction for me."

Yuuko contradicted Haruki's point with one of her own as she walked against the rim of the empty park. The grass was a refreshing green and the cherry blossom trees bloomed pale pink flowers on them, giving the vicinity a warm feeling. Her lips slightly tugged upwards into a small smile, her eyes carefully watching over the delicate petals, playfully swaying in rhythm with the breeze. Haruki floated beside her as she continued her walk, her pace leisurely. He looked around.

"It's very quiet here."

Yuuko darted her eyes to him, "...too quiet?"

The boy nodded, "Could there be a dangerous shadow here?"

Yuuko froze her feet in place in realisation of her carelessness. He was right. It was quiet. Too quiet. And Yuuko hadn't known this area to be a particularly secluded place. Or, did she know this area at all? Her green eyes darted around anxiously for any odd creatures, but nothing in sight fitted the description.

She sighed in relief, "Don't scare me like that, Haruki.'

He frowned, "Haruki was just trying to say to be careful..."

But Haruki was right, she thought. It was too quiet. Deathly silent. There must be a shadow here, there must. But she would have been able to sense it, so what was happening? Nothing good, that was the only thing she was sure of.

"Haruki, let's go now." She attempted to conceal the panic in her voice, but she didn't know how much was audible.

Haruki gave a shocked face, "Eh?! Why so sudden?!"

"Because I have a bad feeling about this!" She retorted back.

However, Haruki didn't seem to share the same anxiety as her, "But Haruki wanted to pick the flowers!", he whined.

"Haruki!" She called his name sharply, as if to warn him.

He took the warning and gave a pout, his cheeks puffing, "Fine...", he muttered in a small, disappointed voice.

Yuuko rushed out of the park, clutching her bag strap tightly so it wouldn't slip off, but she quickly came to another halt. Realisation struck her once again.

"Wait, where are we?"

She questioned herself, though she made her voice audible enough for the inhuman boy to hear her. Sweat began to trickle down her forehead and her eyes widened in disbelief. She was sure she had run in the direction in which she came in, but the scenery was completely different. She was in a completely different place. Was she dreaming? Was she hallucinating? Was she crazy? The same thoughts she had when she had first met Haruki raced through her head. But that would mean the outcome was the same, and she was not crazy. This was real. It was no dream or hallucination. Haruki's suspicion was right, there was a shadow. That was far stranger than what was happening right now, Haruki's intuition being corrected was almost unbelievable.

She was lost now.

There was a shadow.

She knew it now.

There was something causing this, something the same being as Haruki-

-she narrowed her eyes in mental exhaustion, "oh boy...."

[designedparadigm]

[ food ] sender brings food over to receiver's house / @voicestm

   it's droll  to  be  in  his  flat.  it  doesn't  even  feel  like his.  barely  lived  in.  barely  taken  care  of.  just  a  place  he  sits  and  counts  the  minutes  until  he's  off mandatory  leave.  hell  -  he  forgets  he's  even given  his  address  out  until  there's  a chipper  knocking  at  his  door. 

   irritation  seeps  through  him  as  he  gets  up,  pulling  his  hood  over  his  head,  trudging  to  the  door.  no  time  for  a  mask,  he  knows  whoever's  knocking  won't  likely  have  patience.  no  one  does  these  days. 

   he  undoes  the  deadbolt  and  unlocks  the  door,  tearing  it  open  with  a  snarl  ready  at  the  back  of  his  throat  -  only  to  be  taken  aback. 

   "johnny?" 

   genuine  shock  is  in  his  tone,  before simon  steps  back,  pulling  his  hood  down  and  letting  the  scot  enter  his  home.  he  closes  the  door  once  johnny's  inside,  locking  it  and  sliding  the  deadbolt  in  -  force  of  habit. 

   "wha'  are  you  doin'  'ere?"  he  turns,  just  to  see  a  bag  lifted.  he's  surprised  he's  allowed  to  peer  inside  it,  easing  it  open.  food.  his  eyebrows  raise,  before  he  finally  relents  into  a  chuckle. 

   "brough'  me  dinner,  did  you?"  he  leans  forward,  pressing  his  lips  to  the  scot's  forehead.  "fine.  bu'  you're  eatin'  wi'  me.  like  hell  i'm  gonna  sit  alone  when  you  brough'  yourself  all  th'  way  'ere."  it's  a  warmth  that  suddenly  makes  the  place  feel  more  like  a home.  the  drab  all  seems  to  melt  away  into  warm  colors,  welcoming. 

   "'ope  i'm  right  'bout  wha'  you  go'  planned  for  dessert."  simon  slips  it  in,  a  smug  smirk  tugging  at  his  scarred  lips  as  he  walks  toward  his  dining  area  -  letting  the  implications  hang  in  the  air.

[maybebovinity]

Nightshade Eyes [Reaper/Soldier:76] CHAPTER 3

Read on Ao3

A lithe figure hidden by a heavy cloak and hood stalked the shadows with a heavy bag tied around their waist. The eerie night brought a sense of peace as the lack of ghouls signalled another safe night: but it hardly brough comfort when the only protector was currently bedridden and dying in the house of their new resident.

The bag bounced as the stalker tried their best to go unnoticed as some decided to enjoy the night by standing idly outside of their abodes. The delivery was nothing to be ashamed of, and barely illegal outside of the castle’s territory, alas it was something they all pretend to ignore in a facade of if the king will not save us, then our offerings shall go to the Devil herself.

The cape got stuck on a thicket and the nearest resident (a strange jittery man with burn scars and a pennant for setting ghouls alight) cackled at the failed attempt at stealth.

“Ye being inconspicuous?” He dragged out the final word in an attempt to display his newfound vocabulary, courtesy of the nomadic scholar who frequently visits them. 

The figure tried freeing their cape but failed as the thicket refused to let up. Frustrated and with little time to waste, the cape was ripped off and thrown to the floor revealing an irritated woman clad in tight impractical leather. Her fashion choice was an adaptation of exorcists’ mandatory attire, and she swore it instilled fear in those who saw her.

But she was not supposed to be seen.

“Oh look at you! Learned a new word, rat?” she sneered as he continued the cackle. The insult did little affect him and only fueled his laughter. She stepped forward to manually silence him, but the weight around her hips reminded her of her mission. He was dying. Deciding that the rat-man’s life was a lot more insignificant than his , she spat an ancient curse at him before bolting to the house on the hill.

No candlelight nor fire flickered in the windows, and she was reminded of Mei’s soft-spoken warning of the newcomer’s obstacle: he was without sight. Something easy to remedy, and yet the man who hails from the castle walls continues to live such a difficult life. If he were a smart man, he would travel to the Fae Forest and have them cure his unfortunate loss with little payment. Once, she asked the question of why the King and his men feared magic and she was promptly reminded of her orphanage which only confused her more, for her memories never went that far. 

The house was quiet and a fear washed over her as she wondered if he was already dead. She raised her hand to her temple and gently pressed against the skin beside her eyebrow; a spark of electricity emitted from her fingertips and travelled down her body, to her legs and entering the ground at her feet. She followed the trail as it entered the house and connected with a barely alive body. 

Relieved, she stalked around the house to where the pulse found him and was pleased to see that the newcomer did not vandalise the windows yet. It was a common practice to always board up your windows if you do not want visitors, the countryside etiquette took some time getting used to.

And to prove that, she carefully pried open the windowpane and effortlessly slid inside with the heavy bag carefully lifted to not accidentally puncture. If she had to go all the way back to get a new one, then she would have to count her losses and prepare the funeral for she saw no pleasure in returning to the Devil.

Inside, she spotted the forming corpse on a depressing bed and no one else in sight. Unsure if the newcomer would interrupt them, she first crept to the door and carefully locked it as she was shown to do in case of emergencies. The corpse coughed as he sensed her presence, or maybe he realised he was finally getting fed. Not wanting to waste time, she hurried over to the body on the bed and made work to detach the bag and pry it open.

Inside she carefully wrapped her hands around a wet, dying heart. Whose it was she never asked. She sent a spark through the organ and it beat once-twice to allow the remaining blood to expel from its orifices. The body groaned and leaned in towards the smell of fresh blood.

“Hurt yourself and I will be the one to explain to her why her child is dead you fool.” She spoke as she lifted the organ and held it just above his masked face. Another spark sent blood gushing out and she aimed it to slide past the well-concealed opening to his mouth. As soon as the blood made contact did his eyes shoot open and his body jerked towards her.

Throwing the heart at him she observed as he pushed aside his mask, and ignored the pain as it tugged at his flesh where it was forcibly embedded, and dug teeth and claws into the falsely pulsating organ and began devouring. He only growled and moaned as the tough flesh was ripped apart and slowly began disappearing down his throat. She wondered if they all fed the same way, but again she was reminded of his usual feeding etiquette: quiet, reserved, and ashamed. 

The heart was gone almost as soon as she gave it to him, but she knew it would not be enough to take him back home. Fed, the body lied back down and gave a final sigh. His mask was still pushed aside and was tearing his skin apart at its current angle, but he had to wait before it could be returned to its place. Creeping closer once again, she pulled out a piece of cloth and did her best to clean the mess. He hated being dirty.

“ Gratias tibi… ” he groaned out in his ancient tongue. Although well-versed, she did not particularly enjoy conversing in the tongue of days passed. Finished, she carefully pulled at his mask to cover his face and listened as the skin slithered to pull it in deeper into its proper place.

“It is a pleasure you fool.” she noticed blood-soaked bandages across his chest from when he sat up to feed. She was hardly a healer herself, but even she could see that unskilled hands tried to tend to him. She undid them by retrieving a small but deadly blade and cleanly cut through them, revealing the wound which bound him to the sorrowful bed. At first she was confused, because a wound so small would hardly weaken him, but as she scanned his body she realised his neck was the problem: a deep cut was drawn almost all the way around, and if not for the immediate intake of fresh blood she was sure he would be spending some time to mend it.

“Your neck.” she said. He reached up a weak hand to touch at the wound and grumbled, “Boy.” 

“I told you to stay away from him.”

“Attack. Me.”

“Which is why I told you to stay away. One would think a man of your age would have learned the ways of the world.”

“Young. Scared.”

She placed a hand over his mask, where his mouth should be, and only shook her head. Only he would try and chase down a rabid werebeast in an attempt to save them. Although she could barely remember when she met him, she knew he had done the same for her. He would always do that, risk his life to save others. It was a wonder the Devil was not bored with him yet.

“ Mama is scared. She thought you died. That fae was here for not long and she is clearly a healer. Did she heal you? Your wounds are worse.”

He nodded weakly and touched the wounds on his torso already beginning to heal. If she returned to the Devil tomorrow, he would be ready to come home in less than a moon-change. 

“ Spurius discere debuit. ” His words made her turn her attention to the locked door. She almost forgot about the newcomer. From what she heard he was rather… unpleasant and would often growl and glare at whoever decided to come bother him. She tried to imagine him tending to wounds with the aid of the fae, and wondered why the poor bandaging was allowed by the healer. But it hardly mattered because she would go back to the Devil and have him healed before the King could be informed about his existence. The last thing they needed was another Knight trying to rid the world of evil. If only they knew. 

She heard the distant cry of a crow and a flick of her faze confirmed that her time was running out. The night was still young, but the moonlight was making her weary since she had to forgo her cape. She made sure the blood did not stain the floor and pressed a kiss to the temple of the mask in farewell.

“Stay strong vetelus. ” the ancient word stung her tongue. She did not listen for a response and quickly jumped out of the window to return home.

… … …

The locket burned against his skin as he uselessly opened his eyes. It was sunrise. Jack could feel the warmth from the infiltrating sunrays and groggily pulled himself up from the uncomfortable cot he requested to be placed by the broken fireplace. He would rather be uncomfortable for the rest of his life than share a room with an exorcist.

He sat still and tried to listen for any evidence of the monster still being alive, but the only thing he could hear was the village waking up and an irritating cock announcing the sun’s visitation. 

Angela depended on him to ensure the exorcist was alive, and no matter how hard he tried to fight against it, even he understood what it meant to simply let the thing die. He has killed many of their kind, and yet this was the first time he heard of people being fond of their existence. And if they were fond, then the probability of it having some relations were high.

And Jack would not like to fight off an angry village with or without sight. 

He pulled himself up and out from his cot and made to check up on the corpse when a knock on his door stopped him. He has already threatened those who came to bother him, but the insistent knocking demanded attention and he was too weary to ignore it. Trying his best to navigate his unfamiliar surroundings, Jack came to the door and pulled it open to be met with a fist connecting with his collarbone. The contact sent a sharp tingle down his body and he hissed at the uncomfortable feeling. 

“You are much taller than I expected! I thought old men were supposed to be tiny!” The voice was feminine and much too cheerful. 

“What do you want?” He grunted out not wanting a visitor.

“I am here to check up on my, mmm, how can I say? Superior?” 

He was not given a chance to respond as the stranger pushed past him and entered the house. He closed the door and turned to where he thought they were, but the location was quickly revealed:

“Hey vetelus! Wake up!” the voice came from the door to where the corpse resided, and Jack asked himself how the stranger knew, and knocked again on the door. He wanted to inform the stranger that the door was open, but a jingle of the doorknob confused him: he never locked the door.

“ Faex, I really would have liked to not go back to her.”

“Who are you?” Jack has had enough with all of these people infiltrating his deathbed. The others had the decency to at least enter respectfully and be pleasant, but this one was… it reminded Jack of the snivelling brats who would awe every time he paraded down the street clad in his armour and proudly held up the head of a recently slain exorcist. 

“Hmm? How rude of me: Sombra, exorcist in training.” She took hold of his hand in an attempted greeting, but he pulled it back as the words registered. Exorcist in training. 

“There’s more of you?”

“Oh, a non-believer? Let me guess, you were very happy when the Knights came back with a head?”

He kept himself quiet lest he reveal his true past. If there were two exorcists, then it could only mean him harm if his identity were revealed. His existence proved to be boresome as the young exorcist resumed her knocking and yelling. Jack was tempted to send again for Angela, but his pride would not allow him. He was the one who wanted to die, did he not?

What better way than for two exorcists to tear him apart?

“Hey-!” the yelling was cut off as the door was torn open and slammed loudly against the wall. A brief, yet eerie, silence overcame the house. Jack does not know the full extent of an exorcists’ abilities, although they had similarities the powerful and ancient ones had unique powers only granted when the Devil favoured them too much.

And he had no idea who the exorcists in his house were. 

“At last.” the stranger, Sombra he refused to say, muttered and quick footsteps indicated that she entered the room with the monster. Curious, he followed and listened:

“Look at you, able to open doors are we?”

A grumble responded.

“Your neck looks better, but you might need more. Would you prefer a wildebeest this time?”

Your neck looks better. The words horrified Jack. The previous evening he was sure of an intruder, but he chalked it up to being paranoid at the evil in his evil. Angela once told him he was prone to hallucinations when she healed him, and he considered it to be a permanent side-effect. 

“You! You broke in last night?” He spat. 

“Me? Are old men not supposed to be deaf?”

“Sombra, shut up.” The third voice was unfamiliar but belonged to the only other presence in the room: the exorcist. Its voice was gluttral and sounded painful as it pushed out the words. The voice of a Devil’s child.

“Forgive me oh dear Re-”

“ Sombra. ” The words were harsh and Jack felt a chill run through his bones as the words echoed in his head. Whatever this exorcist was, it was powerful. Jack had heard tales of many exorcists, but the one that remained a favourite among the troops were the Devil’s First Child: a powerful ruler whose bloodlust turned them to discover the most evil power known to man. If the tales were true, then this exorcist is possibly the strongest creature alive.

“ Fine. Ungrateful bastard.” 

There was a short, yet intense, whispering session before it abruptly stopped. A deep sigh, “Then I’ll see you tonight vetelus. ” The apprentice made to leave the house and stopped by Jack, he could feel her stare at him but he could not return the favour.

“Do not attempt to care for his wounds, you are sloppy and your lack of training only makes my life difficult.”

“Gladly.” he sneered at her.

He heard her footsteps fading, the front door opened and he was once again left in the company of the primary exorcist. Only this time, it was awake.

“Thank you for healing me.” The voice said in a low growl, the chill from earlier repeated. Jack did not want to speak with the thing, so he remained silent.

“I was unaware of someone moving in.” the exorcist spoke up again. “One would think I would be allowed to have my own home, but even they cannot see me as nothing but a Devil child.”

“You live here?”

“Yes, but don’t hurt yourself by leaving. Once I am healed, I will return to my family.”

Family. Jack did not know what to do with this information, in fact he hardly knew what to do about the entire situation. His habits wanted him to find the nearest sword and end it, but knowing that someone was here and actively seeking the thing out was enough to keep Jack at bay. The apprentice sounded young, and youth often had an advantage in battle.

In unfamiliar territory, Jack found himself hesitantly torn between simply leaving the conversation or staying and ensuring the exorcist was not on the verge of dying as Angela feared. Angela. 

“I must send a message.” Jack announced as he pushed himself away from the door and slowly walked towards his cot. The door between himself and the exorcist was still open and he could hear a grunt as the bed creaked from a slight movement. The exorcist was more human than those he had encountered; usually silent and mysterious, speaking in a tongue no one remembers and releasing animalistic sounds in battle.

But this one spoke like a human and it reminded him too much of a love gone wrong. 

[musicals-n-cartoons]

As threatened, I turned Luz into a sim. Specifically, the version of Luz in Thanks to Them, as that was set in the Human Realm. This version was made with no mods or DLC.

A lot more pictures under the cut.

Nothing controversial for the gender and sexuality section; I made Luz into a biromantic bisexual ciswoman. Sims are by default pansexuals who are exploring romantically, and so that's what I leave for the people with no canon sexuality, but as Luz is canonically bi, I turned the exploration option off for her.

The traits are the first place where I really struggled against the game's limitations. How can I compress Luz's personality into just two traits? Traits that could have fit include Cheerful, Creative, Goofball, Bookworm, Geek, Ambitious, Childish, Good, and Outgoing. But none of these traits really scream Luz to me. If I were to describe her in two words, I would have said kind and impulsive. In the end, I decided that Luz showed both her caring nature and her depression above all in Thanks to Them, so I picked Good and Gloomy. Tho now that I think about it, Outgoing and Gloomy sounds like a lot of fun.

There's no option to become a witch in the base game, so I gave her her backup aspiration of being a bestselling author. Completing that aspiration gives you the ability to "capture life itself in a book, and wield it to bring back someone they've lost" which sounds like a really fun fanfiction idea.

The hair is the second place where I struggle against the limited selection of the base game. There are not a lot of options for wavy hair that goes down to the neck but doesn't cover the ears. This is basically the best I could come up with.

Converting Luz's simple animated face into the more detailed Sims 4 style was a struggle, I must admit. I'm still not 100% satisfied with it, and I feel like I can spend forever going back and forth on the eye shapes. Or the eye size, the eyebrows, the nose, God, can one even turn her tiny animesque nose into a real one? And now that I think about it, her upper lips should probably be bigger. The base game doesn't even have any facial scars...

This is her everyday outfit. I based it on what she was wearing in the school scenes of Thanks to Them. The key piece of clothing is the varsity jacket which is, while the wrong color for Eda's jacket, still pretty nice. It's also classified as masculine, so a win for gnc Luz.

Her formalwear was of course based on the iconic Grom outfit. No tutus, unfortunately. Also, excuse the different poses. These sims can never stand still.

The athletic wear was based on her Boneburough Brawl design.

Sleepwear was based on her Thanks to Them pajamas.

I don't think Luz has ever worn anything like a party outfit, so this one was inspired by her Azura costume, on the logic that Halloween costume parties are a kind of party. I said "inspired" because I couldn't find any tailcoats, or even any purple and white suit coats. There is also a shockingly limited variety of hats available.

Luz's original design was too iconic to ignore, so I based the hot weather outfit on it. Strangely enough, I couldn't find a two-colored t-shirt. The lack of high-waisted clothing is the biggest sign that the Sims 4 is showing its age.

I wanted the cold-weather outfit to be based on her Adventure in the Elements design, but none of the clothes remotely fit, so I just put the alternative Thanks to Them design instead.

Here are the other people I made. I put far less effort into them than into Luz, so I won't show them in detail. I especially don't like how the boys turned out. I should do another crack on them at some point. I plan to do Eda and King later, just need to think on how to humanify King properly.

Now, I'm not going to pay a single red cent to EA, but if I were, what DLC would I use?

Realms of Magic is of course mandatory so that the witches can be converted into spellcasters (complete with pointy ears!). Cats & Dogs add a world with New England flavor, perfect for Gravesfield, and a vet clinic business for Camila. As these kids are teenagers, might as well add Highschool Years for more of Luz's angst (tho maybe a homeschool mod for the rest of the hexsquad?). Finally, Vee's shapeshifting disguise could be represented with either aliens or mermaids.

Fun fact: Sims can't be both Childish and Evil, thus proving that the Collector will be redeemed.

[secretsofalifetime]

Avengers x Y/N: A Dizzy Spell Incident

Bucky Barnes x Y/N: enemies to lovers

Trigger warnings: Mainly fuff, a little romance, fainting and dizziness, and fake disease. this is my first time writing a fanfic so go easy on me pls :)

Summary: You have been Bucky's enemies since the beginning of time until Bucky finds out about your rare POTS *fake* disease and dizzy spells, as well as how you were battling with them during training and missions.

"You have got to be kidding me! Why her? There are so many others to pick from. Why her?" Bucky exclaimed. "Because she's the only one that is challenging enough for you" replied Steve. "I don't care if you like her or not, you are scheduled for simulated fight practice with her tomorrow at 11 AM, and you better be there." Bucky replied with a grumble before storming off to his room.

"Steve, really? You know how he treats me. Why in the world would you pair me up with him?", Y/N mumbled. Steve sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before replying, "I don't understand. Why are you both like this." Y/N grinned. "So he also gave you a hard time with this. You really should have known better than putting the both of us together for this drill." Y/N turns on her heel and walks out the door when Steve calls her name. "Y/N, this is mandatory, You better show up tomorrow." Y/N smile grew. "Don't worry about me. Worry about what condition Bucky will be in tomorrow when I'm finished with him."

Bucky up at the digital clock hanging on the wall and frowns. "Why isn't she here yet?", he voices. "Because she didn't want to ruin her day first thing in the morning by seeing your face, but for Steve, it seems like I'm just gonna have to deal with a crappy day." Y/N walks in holding her water bottle. Bucky let his eyes roam her body before quickly realizing what he just did. Lucky for him, you didn't catch him eyeing your matching black shirt and shorts that just seems to show off every single curve. Dropping off your water bottle at the bench, Y/N walked towards Bucky and prepared your stance before saying, "Listen, I don't have all day to do this. Let's quickly finish the drill within the hour so that we both can leave as soon as possible." Bucky's eyebrow propped up. "No stretching?" "Did it before coming here," Y/N retorted. "Didn't want to spend anymore time in here than I had too". "Why doll? Afraid I will bite?", Bucky smirked. Y/N bounced from side to side. "Nah, quite the opposite actually. Didn't want to scar that pretty face of yours more than I have to." Bucky rose to the roof with that comment. He walked towards Y/N, but of course she's not one to back down. "So you think I'm pretty." "No, I think your face is pretty, not your ego", was the last think Y/N said before punching Bucky square in the face. Bucky stumbled back a step before regaining his balance. "And now that pretty face of yours is bruised, just like that ego", Y/N stated with a smirk. And when I say, shit went down after that, I mean shit went down :)

3 hours later, and neither Avenger was at their breaking point. Y/N definitely missed her phone call from Nick Fury on her next mission, but that was the least of her worries right now. Right now, all she wanted, no NEEDED, was to defeat Bucky at this drill. But god, the way Bucky swings those knives around from one hand to hand is the most attractive thing in the world. Having fast reflexes turned Y/N on like nothing else, and the only reason she has extended the fight this long was to watch his concentrated focus on trying to stab her with those knives. A couple of faint footsteps were detected and Sam’s loud bark heard from the entrance of the training room. “Well this is a sight!”, Sam exclaimed. Nat elbowed him in the ribs to keep him quite, but that just made him louder. “Get him. Y/N! I’m rooting for you!”. Nat groaned and rolled her eyes. “They have been at this for hours now”, she said while eying her watch. “Bucky! Y/N! You guys need to stop!”. “NEVER!”, was never heard more perfectly in sync. “Ugh ok, well me and Sam are going to be training on the side”, Nat replied. “Holler when you win Y/N!”, Sam yelled as Nat dragged him away.

30 minutes later, and the fight was still going on. Bucky was so focused on the movement of Y/N body, the fight pattern in her steps and the sharpness in rough punches that he almost didn’t hear Y/N excessive breathing and see the glare over he eyes. “Y/N, its ok to except defeat,” Bucky smirked, “I can see that you are tired, we can stop.” Y/N gritted her teeth. “Keep. Going”. Instantly, Bucky’s concern skyrocketed and he tried to pause, but Y/N kept swiping at him, causing him to react in self-defense. “Y/N what is going on. You need to stop”. Bucky grabbed Y/N hand as she tried to punch him. Y/N instead pulled her hand out of his grasp and backpedaled for a fraction of a second and came at Bucky again. “I said. KEEP. GOING”, Y/N managed to say through her breathes. “Hey what’s going on in here?”, Nat popped her head around the corner. It took Nat 3 seconds to analyze Y/N stance and heavy breathing to figure out what was going on. “FRIDAY, GET BANNER IN HERE”, she yelled at the AI system. “Nat what’s going on?”, Sam walked around the corner and when he saw Y/N, his eyes grew. “What is going on!?! Why won’t she stop!?!”, Bucky yelled at Nat and Sam as they got closer. Completely ignoring Bucky, Nat turns towards Y/N. “How long?”. “64 seconds”, Y/N replied, her voice raw and broken. Her eyes kept closing and her feet kept faltering but she wouldn’t stop fighting it. Nat turned towards Sam, “Get a mat and her water bottle. she going to need it once its over.” Sam for the first time, listened without any smart remark, making Bucky concern grow in fear. “NAT. WHAT. IS. GOING. ON”. “Just keep fighting her”, was all she could muster before giving her full focus towards Y/N. “Come on Y/N you can do this”. Bucky didn’t know what to think. Was she okay? What was going on? She clearly needed to stop, so why was she and everyone else telling him to continue fighting her. Over the next several minutes, Y/N excessive breathing increased to the point where she sounded like a plane about to take off. She feet were dragging and her movements were slowing down. She kept asking Nat, “How much longer?”, but Nat would only reply, “Just a little bit more sweetie”. Nat would keep encouraging Y/N from the sidelines, while keeping her eyes on her watch. A couple minutes after, Sam returned with the mat, water bottle and Bruce. Bruce had brought with him a kit that seemed to have a bunch of medical supplies in it, as well as a juice box. “How long?”, was the first question Bruce asked Nat. “15 minutes and 43 seconds.” Bruce looked up from his chart, “that’s longer than ever.” Nat smiled, still watching Y/N. Bucky watched all that was going down from the sidelines while still dodging and throwing punches at Y/N. His confusion was beginning to mix with his extreme concern. Shouldn’t he stop now. His focus went back to Y/N eyes. They were so cloudy that he didn’t think she could even see straight anymore. Tears were falling out of her eyes while listening to Nat’s ongoing comments of encouragement. She looked absolutely broken, and he was pretty sure she felt liked that too.

“Nat, I can’t I do it, I can’t do it anymore.” Y/N could feel her the calm darkness creep up her eyes. The dizziness had just gotten worse in the last 5 minutes. The only thing that had kept her going were those sky blue eyes that were looking at her all wrong. She had never seen Bucky’s expression so concerned. She didn’t know how he would react when he finds out what was going on. “Come on Y/N, just a little bit more.” Nat requested. “No, no, I can’t, I…” And the last of Y/N resolve dissipated into thin air and her footing stutters. “Y/N!”, Bucky yelled before coming over and holding her arms. “Bucky, lie her on this mat”. Bruce stated. Bucky quickly gathered Y/N in his arms and carried her onto the mat. As soon as he places her on the mat, Bruce announces, “18 minutes and 23 seconds, Y/N”. A soft smile, appears on Y/N’s face, “I did ok then”. “You did more than ok, sweetie”, Nat gets on the floor next to her and offers he the juice box. “No, I’m sleepy. I wanna sleep.” “You know you have to drink this first.” Nat replied. Begrudgingly, Y/N tries to get up, with Sam holding her back. Nat holds on to the juice box while Y/N drinks out of it. Bruce checks temperature and blood pressure. While this is all happening, Bucky could only watch from the side.

Bucky sat in the kitchen and watched Sam carry Y/N to the sofa. Y/N was now dressed in clean clothes and her hair was wet. Somehow Nat convinced Y/N to take a bath and let her help washed Y/N hair before she fell asleep. Nat walked in and took a look at Bucky. “She has a rare form of POTS syndrome.” “What do you mean rare?”, Bucky asked, his voice a whisper. “Normal POTS syndrome is triggered by excessive exercise or exhaustion of a sort. Y/N’s POTS doesn’t have a trigger, at least one that we know of. It can happen anytime, anywhere, under any circumstance. It’s why she’s able to exercise for hours on end but faint while just making coffee. So in order to protect her from potential harm during missions, Bruce has come up with a long term plan that while help increase her stamina and hold her ground even when the dizzy spells are in effect. Hence, why she kept fighting you. We have been timing her ability to keep upright and lately she has been showing signs of progress”, a faint smile crept up on Nat’s face. “How come nobody told me?”, Bucky asked. He held his head low, trying to remember any instance where Y/N showed symptoms, but he couldn’t come up with anything. The only thing he remembered about Y/N was how annoying she was, the pranks she pulled on him, and how he used to look at her: with disgust. And a hint of passion. But now it was something else that came out while he watched Y/N sleep peacefully on the sofa. She looked delicate, not in the way where she would break because Bucky knew there was no way anyone could break her, but delicate in a way where now instead of hatred, Bucky’s instinct had turned into protectiveness. Nat sighed. “Bucky, you were already dealing with your own problems. And you were barely even here on campus most of the time. Y/N also good at hiding it. You didn’t even remember anything wrong with her, did you?” Bucky shook his head. “Y/N is strong, Bucky. But there is also a soft side to her. Yes, she can be over the top at times, but that’s her way to hide her problems. Maybe if you got to know her better, you wouldn’t see her as an enemy anymore.” “I brought shawarma everyone!’, a voice exclaimed, as a certain genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist walked into the room. Tony’s eyebrows scrunched up when he saw Y/N on the sofa. “Did it happen again? How long did she hold it?”, he asked while turning around to Nat. “18 minutes and 23 seconds.” “Oh wow and he knows?”, Tony nodded towards Bucky. “Yup.” “Ok, then manchurian candidate, welcome to the squad.” “What squad?” “The fainting princess’s watch squad”, Tony pats Bucky’s shoulder before walking out, Nat on his heel. “Oh and leave some food out for Y/N when she wakes up. That princess works a double shift as a raging hangry monster”, Tony called back while Nat chuckled.

Y/N groaned and tried to sit up on the sofa. “Woah, there!", Bucky says while suddenly coming into Y/N's view. "Slow down, you don't want to get whiplash." Bucky placed a hand behind Y/N 's back and grabbed Y/N's hand with his other hand, gently helping her rest against the sofa. "Whhatt, what are you doing here?", Y/N asked, flabbergasted. Never in a million years would she imagine Bucky helping her and his voice's tone so sweet and concerned in her favor. "Listen, I want to apologize for the way I treated you before. I had no idea you were going through all of this, but that still is no excuse for my actions, so I am very, truly, deeply sorry." "Where is the real Bucky Barnes, and what have you done with him?", Y/N laughs weakly. Bucky grabs her hand and to Y/N's surprise, places it on his cheek. "Still very real doll, still very real." "Well then it's probably my turn to apologize for the pranks and endless teasing and..." Bucky cuts Y/N off by placing a finger on lips. "It's all good. But don't stop the pranks, they keep me on my toes", Bucky winked. "Only if you promise to chase me again after I "accidentally" put blue hair dye in your shampoo", Y/N grinned. Bucky place both of his hands on hers that were resting in her lap. "I promise."