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gloomwitchwrites · 25 days ago

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Dog with No Teeth // Chapter Eleven

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings (MDNI): post-apocalypse au, swearing, suggestive themes, brief alcohol use

Word Count: 7k

Task Force 141 preps for the coming mission. Kyle and Johnny have a serious talk with Simon. Simon takes you out on a date. A proposition is made.

Chapter Ten // Chapter Twelve

ao3 // main masterlist // dog with no teeth masterlist

“It’s a bloody coup.”

Captain Price’s cigar smoke lingers in the air, stilted and stuffy and picking at Simon’s oral fixation. The pack of cigarettes and lighter are in Simon’s hand a second later. Balaclava off, the filtered end resting between his lips, a click as he pops the lighter, orange flame sparking to life.

Simon inhales, cherishes the burn.

“Attempted coup,” exhales Simon, a cloud of smoke circling his head. “A fucking mess of one.”

Pictures and paper litter the dark wood tabletop. A detailed map of the northern border of Washington and the southern border of Canada sits in the middle. Nearby, a small lamp provides a bit of warm light, and it’s all they’ll have at this hour. Late in the evenings, when most of the population is in bed, power is conserved and redirected. Only necessary infrastructure is allowed nightly clearance. Task Force 141 might be sitting in a small meeting room in the military district, but a building mainly used for clerical work isn’t high priority.

The fact that a singular lamp is even working is a bloody miracle.

Captain Price smooths his facial hair with his fingers, his expression pensive. “The masterminds went to ground. We’re being sent to sniff them out.”

Kyle gives a small shake of his head. “Fucking animals. Mowing unarmed civilians down like that.”

Simon takes a long drag on his cigarette, allowing the burn to take the place of his anger. Rage won’t help. There are no enemies to fight in this cramped room with smoke-stale air and fetid tempers. What he wants is to seek comfort with you, to have your warmth cradled in his arms before he’s forced to leave it behind.

“All that fighting and no one learned anything,” growls Johnny.

“Humans are fickle, sergeant,” replies Simon slowly, his thumb smoothing over the metal casing of the lighter. “Can’t always trust them.”

Johnny’s side-eye is sharp enough to slice steel. No one is in a good mood. This is their work and yet it’s different—too personal. In the beginning, Task Force 141 was bounced around from Safe Zone to Safe Zone, but it wasn’t unusual. Military personnel were on the move and hardly anyone stayed in one place for long. But that’s when humanity stopped fighting and organized. The old disagreements were put to rest and the new fractures had yet to crawl forth to sink their teeth in. The team was sent outward, to push back against external threats. Internal threats were unthinkable because the mandates were working and people wanted to live.

“When are we leaving?” asks Simon, pointedly ignoring Johnny’s cutting glare.

Price clears his throat. “In three days.”

“Why the delay?” probes Kyle. “Why not tonight? Or tomorrow?”

Leaning forward, Price shifts the map of Washington and Canada to reveal a detailed map of Safe Zone Thirty. It’s one of the smaller zones, mainly used for logging and growing certain crops like potatoes. Fringe and insignificant compared to the larger zones, which makes it the perfect target. A place like that flips with the right control and no ones the wiser until its absence leaves a dent.

Price’s mouth twitches with irritation. “One group wants us there. Another…not so much.”

“Fuck what those bastards think,” mutters Kyle with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Not my call,” replies Price, tapping his cigar against the glass ashtray. “But we are going. Despite the pushback.”

“We’ll root them out,” says Kyle confidently, settling back in his chair. “Always do.”

It’s all schematics after that, a draining process of the who and the why and the basic disregard of humanity. The end of the war was supposed to put all this to rest, to unify the remains, and forge a future out of bloodied scraps.

But humans love their violence—they adore consumption.

Why be at peace? Why be stagnant? Why not rip into the meat?

The walk to the pub downstairs is utterly silent except for Johnny’s off-key whistling. Of all the advantages of the military district, the free-flowing alcohol is a perk Simon will miss while they’re away. Pubs are always open. From sun up to sun down, soldiers of every rank frequent their stoop, spilling out into the street with bottles still in hand.

Simon sinks into a chair in the back of the pub while Johnny orders for them at the bar. There is no cost. No open tabs. Not for anyone willing to hold a gun in the name of global security. But money doesn’t exist anymore. It’s all been dissolved for the sake of harmony.

“Fucker gave me the whole bottle,” laughs Johnny as he cradles three rocks glasses and a half-full bottle of bourbon.

Kyle stands, reaching for the glasses before they topple to the ground. They’re distributed, and the whiskey is poured with a heavy hand.

“Another bloody trip,” mutters Kyle. “We just got home from the last one.” He sighs heavily, running his hand over his face is exhaustion. “How long will this one be.”

The wall sconces glow dimly, not from electricity, but half-melted candles. It’s the go-to when the power is yanked and distributed elsewhere. Everything in the pub is in shadow, which is fucking perfect for Simon. The balaclava can come off, and he can enjoy his bourbon without some wanker having a good stare about it.

Even in the shadows, Johnny’s smile is a sunbeam. “At least that bonny blonde from the social will be here when you come back.” He leans forward conspiratorially. “She spit or swallow?” Simon snorts into his glass as Kyle swipes at Soap’s head. Johnny cackles. “Oh, aye. You always liked the spitters.”

“Piss off, you wanker,” laughs Kyle, the earlier exhaustion dissipating. Moving his rocks glass around, Kyle shifts his attention to Simon, a knowing glint in his eye. “What about your woman? Have her hooked yet?”

Simon’s thumb rubs a bead of condensation off his glass. “Working on it.” The water melts into his skin. “She’s a stubborn thing.”

“I remember,” chuckles Kyle, bringing his own glass up for a sip. “She calm down any?”

“You mean does she knee me in the dick and flee?”

Johnny wheezes, covering his eyes with his hand as he falls into a fit of laughter. “Hells, Lt. That was fucking golden.” He lightly hits Kyle’s arm with the back of his hand. “Remember how hard he went down? Fucking beautiful it was.”

“True strike,” says Kyle with admiration.

Simon rubs at his eye, a small smile teasing the surface. “Goddamn pricks.” Kyle and Johnny both make jerking off gestures before they devolve into hysterical wheezing that leaves Johnny bent over and gasping for air. “Now you’re just taking the piss.”

“Go on then,” smiles Kyle. “Tell us how you’re wooing her?”

“Putting on that charm, aren’t ya, Lt?”

Gaz elbows Soap. “Buying her flowers.”

Soap winks. “Cracking jokes.”

“Romantic walks in the park.”

“Infinite orgasms.”

Simon remains silent, his good mood wavering slightly with the coming interrogation. There is no clear path of avoidance, no path he can take to steer the conversation away from you and how utterly shit he is at coaxing you into his arms. Kyle and Johnny won’t let this matter drop. Simon has asked too much of them already. They know the pursuit is active, and with him bringing them into it just to flame his own ego, they believe they have the right to know the details.

Maybe it’s Simon’s neutral expression that gives him away—the sudden shift from good mood to quiet hesitation—that triggers Kyle’s next question.

“Are you pursuing her?”

Simon runs his tongue over his teeth as he considers the bourbon in his glass. “I am.”

“You don’t sound happy about it,” states Gaz, resting his forearm on the tabletop.

Johnny stares at Simon with an odd expression. “You were up my ass at the social about her.”

“You weren’t keeping others away from her,” mutters Simon.

Johnny rolls his eyes. Kyle leans back in his chair; one hand raised slightly as the gears in his head process the situation.

“What are you doing, mate?” asks Gaz.

Simon runs his finger along the lip of the glass. “I’m being honest with her,” he replies.

“About what?” counters Kyle.

“About her situation.” Simon taps the rim of the glass. Once. Twice. Thrice. “That they’re going to make her choose. And she should choose me.”

Kyle and Johnny both let out exasperated groans, their movements exaggerated as they throw their hands in air.

“You’re got be bloody joking, Simon,” mutters Kyle.

Defensiveness rises. “It’s true,” retorts Simon. “I told her the truth. Showed her what I have to offer.”

Johnny has both elbows on the table, hands covering his face as he chortles.

Kyle drapes an arm across the back of the empty chair next to him. “And what do you have to offer?”

Simon purses his lips, tipping his head back to finish the last of the bourbon in his glass. “Protection. Safety. Security,” he lists, reaching for the bottle in the middle of the table. Simon refills his glass. “That I’d provide for her.”

“Jesus Christ,” guffaws Kyle. “How the fuck are you pulling women, mate?”

“What’s wrong with what I told her?”

“That’s what you said to entice her? Are you fucking serious?”

Simon stares, unamused and over this. “It’s what all the other women wanted from me.”

Kyle shakes his head, snagging the bottle of bourbon when Simon sets it down. “And you think she’s the same? That it’s enough?”

“I didn’t say that,” replies Simon, a threat of a growl rising in his voice.

“But you implied it,” says Kyle, pointing at him as Johhny sits up, sharing in Kyle’s skepticism. Kyle fills his glass and hands it over to Johnny. “What makes you think what you promised her is special? That you’re the only one who can do that?”

“Security isn’t guaranteed.”

“Just because the women that pursued you wanted those things, doesn’t mean she does. There are plenty of single women across this Safe Zone who don’t want those things. Most of them are perfectly fucking happy. And,” Kyle continues, shifting in his chair, “they’re picking men who couldn’t even shoot the side of a building if you handed them a gun.”

“And when things go south, as they always do, they’ll wish they did,” says Simon, unwilling to budge.

He’s not wrong. Simon knows this in his heart. The world might have been shattered, the pieces glued together to resemble what it is now, but Captain Price’s briefing tonight proved exactly why society is still fragile.

Kyle’s body language shifts. It’s subtle, but Simon sees it. He’s changing tactics.

“You promised her security and safety. Great,” shrugs Kyle. “You know who can also provide that?” His head tilts slightly. “Me.” He nods toward Johnny. “Soap.” He gestures toward the rest of the men in the pub. “All of them. Your offer isn’t special. And that’s where you’re missing the damn point.”

Gaz is stubbornly persistent, and as much as Simon is annoyed by it, the man isn’t wrong. Simon isn’t winning you over like he thought he would. You’re still resisting—pushing back. His actions were fucking selfish in taking you but it was also to protect you. You were not a citizen of the Safe Zones in that moment. The mandate requires that any human found outside the walls of a Safe Zone must be brought back if they are not an active threat. Simon had the highest rank. He was leading that team. He had the first right to declare intent on bringing you back with them. If he hadn’t, you’d have been a doe during hunting season.

It's barbaric. And it’s also a secret.

As much as the people in power reassure the general population that all outsiders are given proper due process and rights, that’s simply not the case. They change their tune depending on the situation, and for you, they would. You were a lone woman, a potential contributor to the gene pool, and they would have turned the other cheek if Simon had brought you back and insisted that you were to be his and his alone.

They would have granted it. Easily. Without a fucking question.

But Simon didn’t. He brought you back, claimed you at reintegration and processing, but only in that he was bringing you back into the fold, that in your file, it would simply have his name and rank for submitting personnel—not that he intended more. Shit like that stays under the table. It’s one of the easiest ways for military members to snag a wife and start a family.

Which is why Kyle isn’t even suggesting that Simon do it, or questioning why he didn’t.

“Have you even asked her what she wants?” asks Gaz. “Talked to her about what she wants in a partner?”

“I know what she needs,” replies Simon.

“And what’s that?”

“Me.”

Kyle smirks. “You ask her that?”

No.

Johnny settles back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, hands tucked underneath his armpits. “Ya know, I’ve got a question for you, Lt.”

“Do you, Johnny?”

“Does she even know your name?”

Kyle’s laugh is clipped and short. “Seriously?”

Johnny nods, addressing Gaz. “Remember at the social? When she referred to Simon, she only said—”

“Lieutenant Riley,” finished Kyle. “Never Simon.”

“Nope.”

Gaz and Soap slowly turn their heads in his direction.

Goddamnit.

“I like it when she calls me by my rank.”

Johnny’s grin is feral. “What do you think, Kyle? Think you’d blow your load if your blonde bomb moaned your rank while you fucked her?”

Kyle shrugs. “Probably. Novelty might wear off though.”

“Oh, aye.” Johnny pretends to hump the air. “Sergeant,” he moans loudly and dramatically.

A few heads swivel in their direction and Simon punches Johnny’s arm. “Shut up, Soap.”

“In all seriousness,” says Kyle. “Does she really not know your name? Is it just…lieutenant?”

“No,” Simon admits. “Sometimes she says ‘Ghost.’”

“Thought you were trying to make her a wife,” heckles Johnny. “Wear your mask around her too?”

“Only when others are around,” states Simon flatly. “She’s seen my face.”

“And she hasn’t bolted?”

“Piss off.”

“You need to talk to her, mate,” advises Kyle. “Ask her about herself. Make an effort to know her.” Simon opens his mouth, a retort forming on his tongue, but Kyle holds up his hand. “And don’t fucking say you did because you didn’t.”

“Don’t make me pull rank, Garrick.”

“I already know what you’re thinking. The only shit you know about her comes from her fucking files. Reading a dossier doesn’t cut it. She’s a human being. Not a target.”

Kyle is right. He is right and it’s fucking infuriating. Simon’s lack of success is a sore spot, sure, but he doesn’t need to be smacked over the head with it.

“Thought you’d give me more credit than that.”

“And I don’t think you’re giving her enough,” counters Gaz. “Take her out on a proper date. Have a deep, meaningful conversation with her. Think it’s clear by the skull face,” and Kyle gestures with an open hand in front of his own, “that you’re a scary fucker who can and will protect those he cares about. No one is questioning that.”

Kyle reaches for the bottle, topping off Simon’s bourbon. Simon considers the dark liquid—and his next move. He has three—no—less than. Maybe a day. Perhaps two. Not nearly long enough to convince you, to bring you over to his side completely.

Johnny nods. “And if you can’t win her over with your stunning personality—”

“Here we fucking go,” mutters Simon.

“Could win her over with your huge—”

The last word is silenced as Kyle slaps his hand over Johnny’s mouth. Soap cocks an eyebrow and grasps Gaz’s wrist, playfully shoving him away. “Was going to say heart.”

“Right,” chuckles Kyle. “What about you, Soap? Manage to scrounge up some tail without his help.” He gestures with a thumb at Simon.

The two men start to jokingly bicker, giving one another shit over who is getting their dick wet more often. Simon only cuts in to goad, to poke at them, but mostly to fire Johnny up until he’s mouthing off in an accent so thick, not even his kin would be able to understand him.

This is the normal he knows. It’s what he clings to. There are no more walks along the streets of Manchester. No commutes into London. No trips north to the Scottish Highlands. The homeland is gone, the major cities all craters or shattered from constant bombardment. Habitable, thankfully, but it’ll take generations to return it to a fraction of what it used to be.

Home is now wherever one can make it. Home, for the moment, is this Safe Zone. His current posting. This mission might be temporarily moving him elsewhere, but it’s possible that different orders can come in after their time is up in Safe Zone Thirty. That might tear him away from you forever, unless he includes transfer referrals with your name on them. They’ll accept it, as long as you agree.

Long after the bourbon is gone, and Simon finishes his last cigarette, the three of them call it a night. A trio, meandering down the street, laughing as Johnny poorly sings every obscure drinking ballad he knows. Kyle joins in, on tune but spouting complete gibberish. The cheerful mood wanes as they approach your building. It’s a stark reminder of tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that.

Simon pauses at the entry door, knowing that the alcohol is telling him to go to you, rather than his fucking brain. If Johnny and Kyle weren’t here, he’d listen to that buzz, climb those stairs, knock on your door regardless of the fact that it’s the middle of the fucking night. Good decisions are never made while pissed on shitty, old bourbon.

Every step is agony, every forward movement like a barrage of daggers. Time is limited. Not only is Simon fucking leaving in three days, but your probationary period is up tomorrow. You’ll start your move out of military housing and into civilian life. You won’t be near Simon anymore, at least, not on a regular basis. His job requires him to be close to his work, but he’s a civilian, too, and he has his own designated space out amongst the plain clothes.

Not that you know that. Or that he tells people about it.

And at the ass-crack of dawn, Simon is standing at your front door, still a little buzzed and bleary-eyed from the bourbon, itching for a cigarette that isn’t there.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters to himself, rubbing his forehead.

There’s no way you’re up and about, but he’s already here. He can at least try.

A deep breath in. Raised fist. Skin meeting treated wood.

“Come in!”

Simon steps back, surprised that you even answer, and so quickly. Hesitantly, he places his hand on the doorknob. Giving it a gentle testing twist, the brass surrenders to him.

“Fucking unbelievable,” he murmurs, astounded by your lack of self-preservation. Anyone could walk in if they wanted to. Did you leave it unlocked all night?

As the door swings shut behind him, Simons makes sure the deadbolt is in place.

“Lieutenant!” you exclaim, glancing up from the spread of papers in front of you. Kneeling next to the coffee table by the worn sofa, your startled expression clearly leans into flustered frustration. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“It’s your last day,” states Simon. “On probation. Thought I’d come by. Offer my help.” The relief is palpable, sliding off of you as the tension in your shoulders dissipates. “And it’s Simon. You don’t need to use my rank to address me. That’s for Captain Price when he’s about to chew my ass out.”

“Oh,” you say, clipped. “Um. Yes. Thank you. Simon. I—” You glance down at the chaotic spread before you. “It’s just…a lot. And I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

“Want me to go?”

“No,” you say quickly. “Sorry. That wasn’t meant to be dismissive. Or that I don’t want you here. I’m…”

“Overwhelmed?” finishes Simon.

You incline your head, sheepish.

Simon approaches the sofa, sinking down on the edge of the nearest cushion. “How can I help?” he gently murmurs, extending his hand to receive some of the paperwork. You pick something out from the pile and hand it to him.

“I don’t understand the money system that isn’t a money system but looks like a money system that is also a bartering system but also—"

“Slow down, dove,” he soothes, resting his hand on the back of your neck, thumb rubbing the space between where the tension is returning. “Set that aside. Start with something else.” As he smooths slow circles into your muscles, you lean into his touch, breathing deeply. “You have the address for your new place?”

A silly question. A diversion. Because Simon already knows. He made sure to pick it out, and Price made it happen.

“Yes,” you breathe, tone lighter. “It’s near the library, thankfully. Overlooks the park. Hannah came with me yesterday. To take a look.”

“You like it?” asks Simon, still rubbing your shoulder muscle.

The smile you give him is lovely and honey-drenched. “Much better than this. Lots of natural light. It’s a bit small, but it’s also just me. I can make it work.” You tilt your head back to look up at him. “And waking up to a park every day will be a nice change.”

That’s on purpose, love.

Simon might be a selfish asshole, but he listens. Screaming in his face also did the trick. He took you from your home, and while he can’t deliver you back to your porch hammock or garden outside your bedroom window, he can certainly give you something similar.

“You like the area?”

You nod enthusiastically. “Yes. It’s lovely.”

“Good.” Simon switches to your other shoulder. You sigh with contentment, and Simon ignores the fact that all the blood in his body is rushing toward his dick. “Did they give you all your proper identification?”

Under his touch, the muscles tighten.

“I honestly have no idea.” You lean forward and out of Simon’s grip. Shuffling through some of the papers, you present Simon with a small, thin, and rectangular shaped card. “This?”

“Yes,” confirms Simon. “Always keep that with you. It’s what identifies you, and it’s also how you can buy things.”

“But there isn’t any money. No currency.” You turn back to look at him. “Charles sent over,” you gesture at the mess, “packets of information and none of it makes any sense.”

“You’re right. There isn’t any paper money. No electronic bank accounts. That’s all been dissolved.”

“So how do I buy things?”

Explaining things in a condensed context but with enough clarity to communicate comprehension isn’t Simon’s strongest trait. He likes few words. Directness. Bluntness. Quickness. He has plenty of patience but sometimes it’s selective.

Simon taps the bronze circle on your identification card. “Everyone has a circle. Different colors mean different things.”

You frown. “This is already sounding a lot like something else.”

“It’s an allowance…of sorts,” reassures Simon. “Everyone receives the same baseline resources. Depending on what you do, you’re given a certain amount of…points. In your free hours, you can use them how you like.”

“So, it’s a caste system.”

Simon frowns. “No.”

“See,” you state matter-of-factly. “This is why I’m not getting it.”

He reaches into his pocket for his wallet. “If it were a caste system, everyone would be stagnant. No social mobility.” Finding his identification card, Simon presents the gold circle on his. “The circles are like a salary.”

Your gaze narrows slightly. “Instead of physical currency it’s a point system? You do this job and you get paid a certain number of points.”

“Exactly, dove.”

You stare at him a moment before you speak. “That’s stupid.”

Simon shrugs. “Didn’t make the decision.”

You playfully stick your tongue out at him, and Simon smiles, imitating the gesture right back at you. Your mouth forms into pure sunshine. Simon wants to bottle it. Save it for a rainy day.

“They give you a pickup schedule for your provisions?” asks Simon.

“For my what?”

“Food. Hygiene products. Basic necessities.” You blink, saying nothing. Simon leans forward and gently picks up the different papers and stapled packets they gave you. “Everyone receives them. Standard shit to keep you alive.”

Your lips slightly part, confusion setting in. A bolt of anger rises, not with you, but with Charles and his clear lack of preparation. The advisor they assign to people coming in from the outside is supposed to go over all of this in detail. They should be guiding you, teaching you, and if they’re too busy, there are entire fucking classes he could put you in. Either Charles doesn’t give a shit, or he’s terrible at his fucking job.

Simon rubs the back of his head. “You’re single. Living alone. Healthy. They’ll give you the standard. Nothing extra.”

“Like rations?”

He shrugs. “No. Equitable distribution. You don’t need calcium supplements like granny does. But she won’t need menstrual products like you will.”

“Oh,” you say quickly, glancing away to fidget with the edge of the table. “Then,” you say tentatively, “what are the points for if I’m provided the basics?”

“The extra,” answers Simon. “For you to go see a movie. Grab a coffee on your way to work. Go for drinks with Hannah and Eloise.”

“That—I can do that?”

Simon nods. “The Safe Zones weren’t built from nothing. They’re former cities. Converted to fit the needs of the present.”

You laugh like you can’t quite believe it. “But how? I—I thought…I thought the world was so much worse than all this. Pockets of nuclear wasteland. Scorched earth. Acid rain. Just…devastation.”

Simon shifts closer, the side of his thigh brushing against your shoulder. The contact is electric—a slice of sharpened metal that cuts cleanly. While your closeness sends a ripple of heat through his body, there are more pressing matters. Like the fact that don’t know anything, that you are truly in the dark. Simon is angry for you, that such things were kept secret. He’s not aware of what life was like for you before he took you, but did your community lie? Did they omit?

And then Charles. Your advisor clearly ignored every single one of his job requirements in order to be a lazy sack of shit. While Simon would love to sit here and walk through every little detail, there wouldn’t be enough time, and it would overwhelm you. Already, the tension is setting in again. Panic is there, too, hiding beneath but threatening to emerge.

What you need is a distraction. An escape.

You fidget with your sleeve, gaze averted. “I’m not sure if Charles sent anything about a provisions schedule.”

Leaning forward, Simon grabs a small stack of papers and flips through it.

There’s information about emergency services. The nearest hospital and walk-in clinics. A map of the bus and streetcar systems.

“Here,” he says, finding the correct one. “Looks like you have a form to fill out.”

“Fuck,” you groan, elongating the vowel. Your head tips back, resting against the sofa cushion next to his knee, hands over your face. With a heavy sigh, your hands fall away, gaze pointed upward at the ceiling. “I still need to pack.”

“I’ll handle it,” states Simon simply, returning the papers to the table.

“You don’t need to do that,” you insist.

Placing your hand on his thigh, you squeeze, and that one touch nearly sends him over the edge, diving into dark harbors where there is no anchor.

“S’all right, dove. Want to.” Simon reaches out and gently grasps your chin, tilting your face upward. Your lips part. An inhale. A shiver. Simon nearly moans. Nearly closes the distance. “Remember that outdoor market you saw on your first day?”

Your eyes widen, becoming eager. “Yes!”

“Want to go? Grab breakfast? Look around?”

With a delighted squeal, you throw your arms around his neck. The added weight startles him. Instinct ensnares him. Seizing your hips, Simon guides you into his lap, keeping you close to prevent you from taking him down to the floor with your happiness.

“That a ‘yes,’ dove?” he asks with a tease, tapping the tip of your nose.

You’re all flustered softness, a stark departure from your stubborn tongue and fiery gaze. Both suit you. Both are attractive.

“Can we go now?”

You’re asking permission, seeking his direction, and Simon nearly groans over this revelation. There is no power struggle here, no back-and-forth, no sharpened daggers to draw first blood. You’re waiting for him to lead, and to him, this is but a small fracture in the wall you’ve built around yourself.

“Right now,” he affirms.

Your eagerness carries in every step. From the flat to the open market, you’re bouncing on your toes, nearly coming off the ground. As the two of you approach the entrance, the amount of people thickens. You inch close to him, brushing up against the side of his arm. Simon reaches out to tuck you against him, and there is no resistance. You sink into him, placing your hand on his back, fingers lightly curled to anchor yourself. Sweet victory sings within him—a golden shine of pleasure. Not a single person here will question whether or not you belong to him. There is too much closeness, too much familiarity to believe otherwise.

Simon savors it as he guides you into the throng, relishing the way your eyes widen. Every booth and vendor have something different to offer. It’s…normal, and whenever Simon comes, he’s temporality transported back to Manchester during a market day or festival. Humanity isn’t gone. Not completely. There is still community—a sense of peace.

“Am I allowed to buy things?” you ask tentatively as you come to a stop at a booth selling canvas paintings.

“You bring your identification card?” You nod. “Then yes.”

“But how does it work?”

Simon’s gaze roams over the various paintings. “Which one caught your eye?”

You take a moment. “That one,” you murmur, pointing at a particular piece with various strokes of blue in different shades, speckled with white and gold. It reminds Simon of the ocean.

Reaching into his pocket, Simon withdraws his wallet. “I’ll take this one,” he says to the grey-haired woman puttering about inside the tent.

Her head lifts, a soft smile forming on her face. “Absolutely.” She retrieves the painting and sets sit down on a small folding table.

Simon turns his head to address you. “See that ledger there? She’ll write my name down and how much I spent at her stall.” He holds out his card and she takes it, pencil poised to write.

“And where does it go, exactly?” you ask, leaning forward slightly to watch the woman write.

“I have to send the ledger off at the end of the week,” the woman answers for him. “People at desks handle the rest.”

“The government tracks every purchase?” you question with disdain. “Sounds like overreach.”

“They’re not tracking what it is. Just how much.”

The woman glances up. “Are you new?” she asks, addressing you.

“Yes,” you answer slowly. “I came from…outside the wall.”

Her smile widens. “Welcome!” Picking up the painting, she holds it out to you. “You can have this one on the house.”

“Oh, no,” you laugh. “We can’t.”

“Nonsense. You’re new. I know you don’t have much. Take it.” She turns to Simon. “I’ll erase your name. Enjoy.”

Simon inclines his head, and ushers you away.

“I still don’t entirely understand,” you murmur, clutching the painting to your chest. “What prevents people from buying up everything?”

“Nothing,” shrugs Simon. “But expect some visitors.”

“Police?”

“Maybe.”

“That’s not very helpful, Lieutenant.”

“Told you to call me Simon.”

You come to a stop, glancing over your shoulder at him. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he reassures. “And going over your limit here and there won’t penalize you. It’s for people overconsuming. Being greedy. Wasting resources for a hit of dopamine.”

This time you nod. “That makes sense.”

“Hungry?” asks Simon, shifting the conversation elsewhere.

With another nod of agreement, Simon steers you toward the food. After stopping at each stall just so you can read the menus, the two of you finally circle back to a small bakery stand for warm blueberry coffee cake and a sausage roll.

The greasy meat melts on Simon’s tongue, chasing away the lingering aftereffects of last night’s excursion, but the real pleasure is watching you enjoy your food. Every bite is followed by a moan or a pleased sigh. Under the shade of a tree, your shoulders wiggle each time you go in for another fork-full.

When you’re done, the two of you head off again, meandering through the crowd, lingering to look at everything, stopping to listen to the live music. You’re perfectly content, swaying in the sunshine, and Simon has never been happier.

This could be us. This could be our normal.

But he’s not going to push. He’ll simply enjoy, admiring you as you find joy in the moment.

Your happiness is his happiness. Your pleasure is his pleasure.

This is what Kyle meant. To exist and be present. To offer you something other than protection and security.

But will you make me happy, is what you said to him in response to that offer. Is this what you meant? Even if it’s only a fraction of what you’re imagining. Is it enough to open the door? To allow him in?

“Oh my God!” you exclaim, releasing Simon’s hand to rush over to a booth overflowing with flowers and plants.

For a moment, you disappear amongst the greenery and color. Simon approaches slowly, frowning as he seeks you.

But then your head pops up with a massive smile on your face. “I can’t believe they have them!” You disappear again, only for Simon to find you on your knees before a spread of daisy-like flowers with a dark, cone-shaped disk in the middle. The stems are fuzzy, and while most of them are yellow, there are a few clusters in pale purple and pink.

“These were everywhere back home,” you sigh as Simon comes to a stop beside you. “Zac and his group went out on a supply run. Came back with a bunch of flower seeds and dug up wildflowers. No one knew if any would make it. But these,” you gesture toward the flowers, “survived. They were in everyone’s garden. Had a whole bunch right outside my bedroom window.”

They remind you of home. And that is enough of a reason.

Simon turns, seeking the owner of the stall. “I’ll take these.”

The man Simon addresses perks up at the sound of his voice. “They come in—”

“All of them,” interrupts Simon.

The man gawks, almost frozen to the spot. “All—all of them?”

He doubts, and that’s expected. Simon is hoarding a singular item for himself, but he could give a shit. This is for you, and he has the authority to do so.

Without speaking, Simon shows the stall’s owner the gold circle on his identification card. Like ice melting under the sun, the man moves to action. “Absolutely, sir.”

“Can you have someone deliver them?”

“Certainly.”

You’re still on your knees, mouth open in disbelief. There is a rebuttal forming. Simon can see it in your body language. But the man is already taking Simon’s information, addressing a younger man, likely his son, about moving the flowers.

As they move away to grab gloves, you stand abruptly, rushing up to Simon. “That’s too much,” you insist with a whisper. “You said—”

“I can. And I did.”

You swallow. Lick your lips. The surprise turns to elation. “Thank you,” you murmur, your eyes becoming watery. “I love them.”

“Grab a few for the walk,” urges Simon.

With flowers in hand—called coneflowers as you so happily inform him—the two of continue walking around the market, exploring every corner and stall. Morning becomes afternoon, and when you yawn, Simon takes you home.

“Oh—shit,” you laugh, placing your hand over your mouth as the you enter your flat.

The flowers were delivered while the two of you were still out, and Simon inwardly preens over it. The things are fucking everywhere, even in the bedroom.

“Thank you. Again,” you murmur, reaching for him.

Simon expects a small touch, but you go for his hand, squeezing gently. And you don’t let go. You step closer. Closer. There is silence, and yet Simon’s heart hammers, nearly buzzing in his ears as you cozy up to him. He is unable to reply—unable to gloat. This intimacy is different, and he’d hate to break the illusion.

Your voice is a ghost, hardly audible over his thudding heart. “Can I ask you something, Simon?”

His reply is automatic. “Course, dove.”

“When—” You pause. Lick your lips. Gather your courage. “Before. When we—” Another pause. You place your free hand between your breasts, rubbing slightly in nervousness. “Would you have pulled out? If I had asked?”

Before. Before.

When Simon had you spread wide and under him, your tongue lashing his heart with venom all while you still begged for him. Would he have pulled out? Would he have honored that if you asked?

“No.”

“And now?” you continue, moving your hand to his chest, palm flattening.

Simon inhales deeply, pressing into your touch. Fingers find skin and then he’s cradling the side of your face, thumb resting just below the curve of your bottom lip. The truth is best, and like he’s told you time and time again, he doesn’t lie.

“Answers the same,” and it ends on a possessive growl. “I want all of you.” Simon tightens his grip, pulls you in close. “That includes the right to come inside you.”

“You think that’s romantic?” you ask, but there’s no snark in it—no bite.

“No,” replies Simon. “But it’s the truth. It’s how I feel.”

Such a confession should be a sin.

But you have one of your own.

“I don’t think I would have cared.” Your voice is still so soft. So…gentle. “In the moment.”

“And now?” echoes Simon, needing you to answer, to give him any confirmation of a possible future.

Your gaze shifts upward, meeting his. “Maybe.”

There. A subtle shift. Simon notices the desire, and the hesitation. You do want him, but there is a barrier. A separation. There is more that you need. Perhaps reassurance, or a promise.

“I’m leaving for a while,” is all he says.

There is no point in hiding what’s coming, and he’d rather tell you now than right before he goes.

“You’re leaving?” you exhale. “You—but you just came home. You can’t—” But you catch yourself, shutting off that final word as if you’ve suddenly realized what you were about to say.

“I have to go,” he says for you. “It’s my job.”

Your hand on his chest lowers. Shifts to his waist. Fingers gripping his shirt. “How long?”

This is the part he hates the most.

“Could be a week or two. Could be a few months.”

“A few months?”

“We don’t know what we’re heading into.”

You shake your head. “Do you know where?”

“There’s unrest happening. A Safe Zone is under siege.”

“You’re heading into a warzone,” you state solemnly.

Simon releases your hand, only to wrap his arms around your waist. “Afraid so, dove.”

He hates this nervousness—this worry that clings to you. The attention and concern for him is confirmation that you care, but the downturned mouth needs to go.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” you whisper, and Simon holds you tighter.

Asking might be dangerous. You may reject him. If you do, that’s Simon’s final chance slipping away. But you might say ‘yes.’ You might let him in.

“I never finished,” he murmurs.

You arch an eyebrow. Laugh. “That’s not a question.”

Oh, dove. It is.

“Soap cut it short. Been long enough that I’ve forgotten what you taste like.”

Simon’s head dips, closing the distance until the tip of his nose brushes against your cheek. Yet you do not flee. There is no snapping reply, no sharpened spite to lash his veins. Every flutter of your eyelashes and subtle shift of your body indicates that you’re not opposed to it. And when you press into him, your lips parting slightly, hope surges within him, seizing bone and blood until he’s buzzing.

“That’s what you want.”

“It is,” he confirms.

Risk can have its reward, and Simon does just that. He moves in, lips hovering just shy of your own, your breath warm and panting against his skin. Your lids grow heavy, and with a groan, Simon grasps the nape of your neck, arching it to tilt your head back.

No asking. No seeking consent. Just his lips finding yours, wanting to be accepted but knowing rejection is the likely outcome.

But you, the sweet thing that you are, do not push him away.

The little moan you make as you grasp him in desperation is all the answer he needs.

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ghostgirl101 · 3 months ago

Text

Poppy Playtime Bigger Bodies (Antagonists) x You || General HCS

...if you were an orphan left mysteriously alive in the factory.

A/N: Aka you being protected by every bigger body brother sister significant mother huggable plush dog cat dough boy in the factory. 😀 also random note but I'd love to hear theories about chapter 5 coming out next year, I'm already ready for it lol, I think I heard its gonna be the last and there's gonna be multiple endings and I'm 100% down for all of it

Sidenote: These headcanons aren't gonna be massively romantic or anything just because they're trapped childrennnnn in animal plush forrrrms and idk writing that ifykwimeaaannn 😺someone freakier than me might attempt to tho lmao also I didn't manage to include Ms Delight in this one, I'm sorry, but girl gave me nightmares for a straight week 😭

CATNAP?

🐾 • Basically never says a word. Kitty's always staring in the back with those big, blank white eyes and gaping grin, looming over everything, lurking in red shadows. Don't think he's not always watching you, because he is. Everywhere. Anywhere. He knows.

🐾 • If you happened to know Catnap before "Catnap" and as Theodore Grambell, there are just two things to know. Don't ever call him by his real name. And don't ever leave him.

🐾 • Cat might actually, very, very slightly be tempted to question the almighty Prototype's intentions if and when he ever demands Catnap fetch you for them for a "discussion of sorts."

🐾 • Get used to being flung up onto his back at random points of the day or night to stalk around the factory levels with him. And also get used to the red mist, because if he thinks you need sleep, then you're gonna get sleep.

🐾 • He'll only stop when he realises that you get the nightmares too. That's how you'll know he cares. In his own ways.

🐾 • And if The Player tries to interact or find you in the factory, Catnap will actually scrap his love for a cat and mouse game with them, and go straight for the kill. And there's no death screen for this one.

🐾 • He's pobably one of the most protective out of all the Bigger Bodies surrounding you in Playtime factory. He won't let you go anywhere near the train, or the main ground floor where the entrance and exit are. It's been bolted and secured by The Prototype itself, and Huggy's another willing blockade to any attempted escapes.

🐾 • I'm rambling about the others now, so let's move on to them-

DOEY?

🍭 • Let me first state (for the very obvious fact, but in case you didn't know lol) that Doey the Doughman is infact multiple mans. Three. And more boys than men- we have Kevin, the "problem child" that has an uncontrolled temper, glaring scowl on his features, and the loudest voice. We've got poor Jack, the victim of falling into literal molten dough as a child, who just wants his mum and brings out the pure blue sadness in the mix. And Matt just tries to keep everyone together as a "dream child," being the most thoughtful and caring of the bunch. So that's that.

🍭 • I feel like out of all of them, Jack would barely say a word, probably still completely traumatised by everything and numbed in pain mentally and physically to end up like a bit of a blank, unresponsive slate. But if you give him time, and maybe a few hugs, he'll soften out of his shell in his own way, and will naturally just follow after you wherever and whenever he can in the factory, even giving the other boys a bit of a tug in your direction when they're fighting for control.

🍭 • Kevin wouldn't give the boys a tug, he would physically lunge and shove against Matt's gentleness to do as he wanted, or to speak to you himself. It would be a miracle for anyone to calm him down, and if it's not Matt getting in at just the right time, it'd be you.

🍭 • Matt's a complete gentle giant in every way, and so you and he would be a dream team in helping keep up the safe haven and a sense of order amongst the others. You'd probably see him asking you for guidance and leadership after a little while too, after he's done it almost completely alone up to this point.

🍭 • All three of them would gang up in an instant to defend or protect you, no questions asked, working in perfect harmony. Just like how brutal the fight with The Player ended up being, but heightened to an extreme, because here, there's no mental or physical conflict in their motives, there's just the raw instinct of protecting their own.

HUGGY?

🧸 • Big surprise - or maybe not - that he's probably one of the softest of the bunch when it comes to you and your protection. He would absolutely steal Catnap's move of just randomly scooping you up to wander around or play in the Game Station, except you'd be carried around on his shoulder for most of the time.

🧸 • He'll play whatever game you want with you, when he's not on surveillance for intruders. Tag or It can be mildly stressful with him though, just because, he will absolutely chase the hell after you until he's knocked you off your balance and into the air- "Huggy it's just a game 😭"

🧸 • The Prototype put Huggy Wuggy in charge of securing the main entrance and level of the factory, and so he takes it completely seriously. If The Player's on the hunt to find you, they'll have to get through Huggy first. He'll be raging, screeching the whole end scene of Chapter 4, because he saw you talk to The Player.

🧸 • Very much like a golden retriever one moment and then a guard dog with snapping teeth and dead eyes the next.

MOMMY LONG LEGS?

💗ྀི • This woman is INSANE 😭 😭 like whattt girl calm down just cus Catnap was giving us a ride around the Navigation Room we aren't gonna fall off and "smash into tiny bloodied pieces," if you keep poking at the Cat he's actually going to twist one of your pink arms off-

💗ྀི • Very protective. Insanely, 24/7, obsessively so. Every other child left her to die but one, so if you go anywhere near the main ground floor or the train, get ready for a momentary mental collapse until The Prototype itself has to threaten her nerves to get her to back off a bit

💗ྀི • She can actually be a nice presence to be around if you're missing your parents or family or anything you had to give up to live in hell underground, because she's motherly to the max and will treat you like you're four and can't do anything for yourself even though you most certainly are not four, and haven't been for some time

💗ྀི • Anyone she doesn't think is protecting and watchiing over you enough on the rare occasions that you're out of her reach is gonna risk being webbed up as a corpse somewhere around the factory, just as a warning sign. She has to teach her lessons, after all.

HARLEY SAWYER?

👁️ • This guy's an absolute bitch. In every way possible.

👁️ • He'll keep you around, not because The Prototype commands it, but either because you're either (1) his child somehow - my condolences to you to have a dad who's basically the monsters inc eye in a box - or (2) you were an interesting and possible subject choice for a future test that never saw the light of day before the Hour Of Joy.

👁️ • He just has a weird obsession with you in some way, though not as strongly as The Prototype's mentality. Harley's still a psychopathic ass, so don't expect much soft treatment. Just a lot of eyes on the old, broken-down security cameras in the factory and a snarky remark whenever you come to check on him in the Doctor's Lair.

👁️ • It'd give him all the more reason to dissect The Player if he found they were trying to reach you somehow. "After my orphan, I see. How inspired. You'll save no one."

THE PROTOTYPE?

⚠︎ • The most protective 101/100 out of every single being left alive in the factory. It just goes about things in a different, "creative" way.

⚠︎ • Low-key borderline obsessed with everything about you and everything you represent in their mind. Whatever they're planning, it's for you. Poppy who?

⚠︎ • All the Bigger Bodies under his control have the sole job to follow him blindly, and to make sure you stay alive, unharmed, fed and watered, and nowhere near the exit. You're not going anywhere. Playtime birthed you, Playtime is you.

⚠︎ • It'll go after The Player in its own ways. Using Catnap and Mommy and Huggy and everyone else to beat them down, and then get The Player to watch the inevitable. That's what makes it sweet. "It's not about you."

⚠︎ • Not very soft or sweet at all, because... It's The Prototype. But it can take on many acts, like it did with Ollie, and you might've gone through the whole thing of thinking you were friends with someone else hidden in the factory that tells you they're always here for you, they love you, you look so pretty today! when it's actually The Prototype all along. Just don't expect it to admit to those same words in its usual tones.

And there we have it. Two hours ten mins of writing Poppy Playtime headcanons 😀 I'm now going to lie unconscious in bed for an appropriate amount of time, so thanks for reading.

#poppy playtime fanfic #poppy playtime headcanon #poppy playtime fandom #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime oc #catnap x reader #doey the doughman x reader #huggy wuggy x reader #poppy playtime fic #harley sawyer x reader #the prototype poppy playtime #leith pierre x reader

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rageserenity · 1 year ago

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It's 2024. Are you still thinking about movieverse!Cherik? Because I am.

For the past several months, there's only been a very slow trickle of posts/fics in the xmcu cherik tag. Let's try to breathe some life back into this incredible pairing!

With one clear winner of my poll, here's thirty prompts for the thirty days of April. (This is a super chill, laid-back event---do these in any order, interpret them as loosely as you like! Create in any medium! Fic, art, gifs, meta, incoherent screaming about the otp…all winners in my book.)

The only rule here is to cherik too close to the sun. Alright. Here are the prompts.

Mutual Pining

Doesn't really even need elaboration! Write that horrifically slow slow-burn. Gif every time McAvoy made insane fuck me eyes on screen. Make a playlist of songs about impossible love.

2. Alternate Meetings

There are endless quotes about how these two complete each other in a way no one they'd met before or after ever did. How else could they have met?

3. Erik Has A Telepathy Kink

This is basically canon. Let my boy get freaky!

4. Canon Fix-It

All the times Fox fucked it up. There are endless options.

5. Hurt/Comfort

Put them in that Situation. Put them in that Blender. Break them apart and put them back together ❤️‍🩹

6. Canon Compliant

Draw that missing scene! Gif your favourite cherik moment!

7. Beach Divorce

Make it worse. Make it better. Show it to us exactly how it was. Break it down in a 3,000 word meta. Go wild!

8. Domestics

Sometimes you just want to see them doing normal couple things. Erik put the gun down.

9. Found Family

The real heart of x-men!

10. Time Travel

There are SO many possibilities here. Stick them in a time loop. Give them a chance to change their past.

11. AU

Love a good AU!

12. There Is Only One Bed

Had to get this one in here. What better way to amp up the tension?

13. Genosha

By some miracle, cherik actually did end up together at the end of 2019s trash bag disaster Dark Phoenix. We aren’t making a big enough deal about this.

14. Declaration(s) of Love

Who says it first? How do they say it and when? Have they said it…without saying it?

15. Jealousy

Need I say more.

16. Reunion

These two have absolutely no chill.

17. Soulmates

Classic prompt, had to get this in here too.

18. The DOFP Aircraft

The TENSION here. Break it down for me. How does Charles feel about his injury? How does Erik feel about his injury?

19. Gay Mutant Road Trip

You already know.

20. Body Swap

SO fun when people have superpowers.

21. First Kiss

When? How? Who initiated it?

22. The Mansion

Mansion!content is a genre of its own.

23. Conflicting Ideology

Give me your theses. Who’s right? Can they ever reconcile completely? Write a fic where it drives them apart.

24. Sebastian Shaw

A trope unto himself.

25. Team As Matchmaker

They had to have known something was going on, didn’t they?

26. Cooking

Charles deserves a good meal. Also, imagine Erik using his powers in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity…

27. Hurt No Comfort

Plenty of scope with these two 🥲

28. Growing Old Together

Giving Sirs Ian Mckellan and Patrick Stewart their props as well!

29. Making Up

*pushes chess board across the table* sorry babe

30. Charles Xavier Did More For Mutants Than You'll Ever Know

Rising to each other’s defense. Only I can insult this man.

I will be tracking #revivecherik to reblog stuff! Here’s a fic collection for the same. Let’s get this ball rolling! Please feel free to send me an ask if you’ve got anything to say! And most importantly, let’s all have fun 😁

*I know a few of you preferred something like a gift exchange because of the commitment factor—I’m super down to organise a tiny one for the handful of us! If this promptathon doesn’t flop horribly, we can hopefully do a whole bunch of stuff :)

If you read this post all the way through, please reblog for reach! Thank you! Hoping you participate come April.

Shoutout to @inmymagnetoera for reaching out and helping with this!

#revivecherik #cherik #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #xmfc #james mcavoy #michael fassbender #x men days of future past #x men #charles x erik #magneto #professor x

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 1 year ago

Note

Remember the Pokémon trainer ask with having pokepastas in their team? Could I maybe request something angsty?~ basically can I get headcanons of Arven and Kieran’s reaction to finding out Trainer got in a accident and was suffering from VERY lethal injuries and in panic missingno..basically messed them up into a pokepasta trainer,kinda corpse looking and now in never ending pain because of the raw wounds that never fully Heal but ofc take medication to numb the pain down and look out now for they’re friends so they don’t suffer the same fate? :))

Oh btw have a nice day or night!!! Remember to drink water!

Arven

From the moment he, Penny, and Nemona discovered your team enjoying a picnic...he always wondered how you got something like Missingno on your side.

But since it nearly corrupted his damn pokedex trying to just get information on it AND you were reluctant to share your past, he figured you'd just say "don't ask questions you don't want answers to" and end the convo right there.

He definitely wouldn't let Mabosstiff near it.

Last time he went near a Pokémon nobody should've known about...he almost lost his companion.

From time to time, he catches glimpses of your wounds (not during picnics ofc), bandages, and the medication Nurse Miriam prescribed to you, and suggests you save some of the herbs for yourself.

And they do help with your pain management when incorporated into tea or sandwiches (especially the salty herba mystica, which relieves your aches for a little while).

They're not miracle cures, but it's something.

Eventually, there comes a point where you know Arven wants to understand how you acquired Missingno, why you have so many ghastly Pokémon by your side, and why you were determined to defend him and the others down in Area Zero.

So you sit down and explain how you found it by accident in Kanto, caught it, and realized it was simply a lonely creature who wanted a trainer it could love and protect. Like any other Pokémon.

Yet you didn't realize the extreme lengths it would go to achieve that goal....until you nearly suffered a lethal wild Pokémon attack (it was in the dead of night, and you were ambushed while chasing after what you thought was a shiny).

You were bleeding out, bones broken and gaping wounds all over your body, and unconsciously begged for help-

And Missingno somehow heeded your call, escaping its pokeball and reviving you.

But in doing so, you were brought back as a zombie..one who still remembers the pain of that night and often cursed the glitch for not letting you die.

In time though you've made peace with it, knowing you were stuck this way now and it wouldn't let you go...

To the point where it erased its own pokeball from existence and became a constant presence around you, invisible aside from a few occasional glitch particles.

Yet you knew Missingno didn't mean any ill intent--all it wanted to do was save you.

Now you vowed to save others so they didn't suffer the same fate as you, whether that be haunted Pokémon left abandoned in some town or atop a mountain or your human friends in Area Zero.

Your pains aren't as severe now thanks to the meds, and you're grateful for Arven introducing you to herba mystica.

You were afraid he was gonna be freaked out by your story (or not believe you), but..while he finds it horrific and sad at first, he understands you better and is simply glad you're here now.

He's also happy to help his buddy manage their pain better, even if the remedies are only temporary.

Kieran

You had to bandage and conceal a great deal of your wounds so nobody at BB Academy got concerned, with DISABLED giving you a consistent best Heal Pulse to ensure your chronic pain wasn't debilitating).

Even so, Kieran assumes you got better over the past year and is desperate to battle you and win Missingno..something he vowed to acquire after realizing he'll never get Ogerpon.

You try explaining that it's literally impossible for you to surrender it, and it's too dangerous to bring it into a battle anyway, but he thinks you're just lying to him again and bragging.

In the back of his mind, though...he kept wondering why you had so many injuries..

Ofc..he's too focused on being stronger than you to ask you.

But after seeing Missingno come out (in its Fossil Aerodactyl form) and literally glitch Terapagos' beam out of existence and use Cut on multiple falling rocks---he was amazed.

You finally invite him to your dorm to talk after the mochi mayhem events, knowing he deserved some answers.

He sees the pain meds littered all over your countertop, and you finally reveal to him why you need those, why you look the way you do, and why you keep Missingno around:

Basically, after catching and befriending it, you got attacked by some wild Pokémon, and they would've left you for dead had it not intervened.

You made it feel loved, cherished, never using it as a weapon or an infinite item dispenser...and it couldn't watch you bleed to death.

So it saved your life, but it came with a great cost: neverending physical pain with your wounds never fully healing.

You used to curse Missingno for not letting you go, trying to release it several times to no avail, and just being miserable in general.

Yet once you realized it attracted more misunderstood, tortured, and damaged Pokémon to your side..you came to forgive it, knowing it was just like them despite its uncanny appearance: a creature who just wanted to protect its trainer.

Now you take medication (and a few leaves of herba mystica) to numb the pain down, so it didn't hurt as much as it did before.

You wouldn't want anybody to have a brush with death like you did. Not even your worst enemy.

That's why you went so far to protect your friends in Area Zero, especially Kieran.

After hearing your story, he felt so torn up and guilty--and convinced he was being "overdramatic".

You were still suffering all along, for years..and he had no idea, only thinking about himself and his selfish ways and how his pain couldn't possibly compare to-

But you stop your friend from spiraling, holding him and letting him cry out all of his renewed guilt, telling him that his own suffering was valid, too.

He was starting to look like a corpse with the dark circles and paler complexion....and it scared you.

Seems like he took "I wanna be like you" a bit too literally.

But you're glad Missingno saved you--otherwise you never would've gotten the chance to meet him and help him become more confident in himself (ofc you wish things were different before and didn't require you shattering his confidence first).

Since that conversation, Kieran starts taking better care of himself and makes a promise to protect you.

Not from physical threats per se as you're basically immortal, but from rude stares and whispers of how "creepy" you are.

He tends to hug you a lot and lend you his jacket for warmth if you ever get cold in class or in the polar biome.

It does help with the chills you get so often, and makes you feel grateful that you two were still friends despite everything.

#we are baaaaack with pokepastas #clanask #anonymous #pokemon x reader #pokemon sv x reader #pokemon scarlet x reader #pokemon violet x reader #pokemon arven #pokemon kieran #pokepasta x reader #missingno #tw death #tw body horror #headcanons #platonic

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 3 months ago

Note

Hi, I've been watching s4 (unfortunately) and one thing I've realised is that part of it's weird "secrets" plotline is how... chopped up it is? I'm so sorry, but I might rant a little.

Ep 1-4 (including mr pidgeon 72 since it directly leads off from gang of secrets) are mostly connected regarding the issue of the superhero secrets messing with the Main Characters civillain lives. Ep 3 resolves this somewhat. This then leads to Alya Knowing, but while it's used a few times, its generally a background thing that's not used in the plot itself save a few episodes.

And then the next time the issue of the superhero-related- secrets comes back is... Optigami, ep 13. There's about 9 episodes of not really caring about the secrets plotline in favor of Zoe and the Felix thing. (I'm not including Guiltrip or anything in the secrets theme since they feel more standalone)

Optigami is the next time the whole "secrets" plot is brought up, finally addressing miracle queen and also not fixing the hole they pointed out. It also leads to Alya going full time and directly into Sentibubbler, possibly the First Time we see CN noticeably upset about being left out of the loop. Possibly also the first time in s4 we see that there IS a possible issue between the heroes.

And then it's picked back up for "Hack San" with the Scarabella thing and "Rocketear" with Nino, even if it's a bit strange in tone as to what exactly is the wrong action in these situations...and of course dropped again for another 4 episodes before "Ephemeral" (which only counts more than Wishmaker since it's CN seems slightly upset at the end about LB keeping secrets, I don't think he's ever told what she was going to talk about, why viperion was there, or why she had a timer on?)

(Slight tangent but it seems that this convo, basically having CN ok with having the team cover for him,

Ladybug: The countdown has begun. It's 1 am, and we've got just five minutes before you transform back. So we've got to be done by 1:05. You'll rewind on my signal.

Cat Noir: (upon landing on top of the Eiffel Tower) I'm sorry, but I really couldn't make it earlier.

Ladybug: (waves) Hey, no big deal! That's the good thing about a team. It's not the two of us anymore!

Cat Noir: Oh, yeah! So then, why did you need me exactly?

Technically no longer exists in main canon. In the current timeline the convo is cut off:

Ladybug: The countdown has begun. It's 1 am, and we've got just five minutes before you transform back. So we've got to be done by 1:05. You'll rewind on my signal.

Cat Noir: (upon landing on top of the Eiffel Tower) I'm sorry, but I really couldn't make it—

(The lights are flashing alternately, while the malfunctioning cars are making a lot of noise)

So we Could assume that CN, instead of being reassured that things were fine and being chill with it, is instead more upset due to there being a Mysterious Meeting that's left unexplained. Thats probrably the best way to explain his perceived heel turn over the team in Kuro Neko.

But also the sheer existence of that exchange means that you'd mostly remember that, AND him being upset at the end, it's really confusing and the audience is forced to fill in too many gaps. But I digress)

Kuro Neko is basically the climax of this issue that was spread out from episodes 14, 16-17, and 22. It ends with this issue seemingly resolved at the end. Since the inbewteen episodes have Ladynoir acting completely normal, CN seems to ping-pong between whether or not he's upset woth Ladybug about secrets.

(Also, on the topic of Kuro Neko, it's the only episode before the finale I can clearly note CN offering help and LB rejecting it, this help being helping her retrieve the other Miraculous from the temps faster. A reasonable offer that she unfortunately doesn't take, but it's like once only. He offers again in Risk, and honestly I think the only reason they put these moments in is so the audience has at least once instance of her refusing help when LB later mentions it in her breakdown. They only bothered putting it into later episodes so its fresh in our memories and nothing else, so its not built up well.)

To put it simply, while s4 appears to have a theme of "secrets" being... bad? Good? I'm not sure, The only real times it's brought up even briefly are spread out horribly: Eps 1-4, then nothing till 13-14, 16-17, 22-23, and then the finale 25&26.

Even when the episodes are close together theres at least one episode in between messing with the flow. In short, would the conflict have been done better if they had stuck those later episodes together, or would it at least have helped fans perspectives on it? Again, sorry for the long rant ask.

Also, on the topic of Kuro Neko, it's the only episode before the finale I can clearly note CN offering help and LB rejecting it, this help being helping her retrieve the other Miraculous from the temps faster. A reasonable offer that she unfortunately doesn't take, but it's like once only.

THANK YOU!!! I recently brought up the fact that I couldn't remember Chat Noir offering to help outside of Kuro Neko, but I was worried that I was forgetting something. It's nice to have it confirmed that he really did quit after a single rejection. Writers, wtf are you doing? This is not how you write a good conflict where Chat Noir comes across as deeply wronged!

Anyway, don't apologize for the rant, I enjoyed it! Much like the Kuro Neko thing, it was nice to get confirmation that season four played out the way that I thought it did. While I've reread the scripts for certain episodes while running this blog, I only watched season four once so there was always a chance that I'd forgotten some random nuance. This risk was only enhanced by how badly the writing setup the supposed conflict between Ladybug and Chat Noir. I didn't even realize that the Ladynoir conflict was going to be a thing until we were at least a few episodes in so I always wondered if I missed something subtle in the early episodes. Sounds like I didn't.

Then there was the issue of what the conflict was even about. I thought that the Ladynoir conflict was going to be over Alya learning Ladybug's identity and basically getting promoted to Ladybug's partner. That's a solid conflict in which both sides have valid points of view. Ladybug should get to choose who she trust! However, it's also perfectly valid if Chat Noir is not interested in being partnered with someone who doesn't seem to trust him. We even had a solid set-up for Ladybug's actions costing her everything without Chat Noir holding any blame because Chat Noir was never told about Rena Furtive. That could have lead him to do something dangerous in battle because he mistook her for an enemy, which would have been 100% Ladybug's fault!

None of that ended up mattering, though. Instead of using these lovely setups for complex and nuanced conflict, the Ladynoir conflict ended up coming to a head over...

Plagg: For a while now, you've been neglecting this camembert— I mean Cat Noir, and going on adventures with the all other cheeses! Ladybug: But he should be happy about it, it gives him more time off. Plagg: Cat Noir doesn't wanna have time off, Ladybug! He is in love with you! And your persistent calling on all the other heroes has broken his heart.

Ladybug relying on other heroes in battle.

Why would you pick that as the reason Chat Noir quits??? That is the one issue where Ladybug is objectively completely right! When it comes to battle strategy, feelings legitimately do not matter!!! Ladybug shouldn't prioritize Chat Noir in the middle of a battle! She needs to do whatever is required to save the day even if it means picking a temp hero over Chat Noir. Paris' safety matters more than Chat Noir's need to feel special!

Also, as anon alluded to in the ask, Chat Noir feeling like he isn't special enough isn't the right conflict to focus on. It isn't properly set up! The Ladynoir conflict comes to a head in episode 23 (Kuro Neko). The last episode to address this conflict was episode 17 (Rocketear). The conflict introduced there was this:

Adrien: Huh? You're... Carapace? But... the two of you know?! You know each other's secret identities?! Nino: Of course, Alya and I have never kept anything from each other. Until now, though that Cat Noir's business! Adrien: Wait a sec, I don't understand! I thought that secret identities had to be protected at all costs. If it were true, you'd never just tell me like that. Ladybug would never agree to that! Nino: Are you kidding? Ladybug is the one who gave us both our Miraculous at the same time.

This is yet another decent source of conflict. Ladybug didn't reveal Alya and Nino's identities on a whim, it was an emergency! But Chat Noir doesn't know that and this is right after he learned that someone else knows Ladybug's identity, so it makes sense for him to feel like he's not a true part of them team. In spite of this, identities never come up in Kuro Neko nor is the conflict focused on Chat Noir feeling like he's not part of the team. The Kuro Neko conflict is about Chat Noir wanting to be more than just another part of the team. This is what leads to the argument where he quits:

Clara: (from TV) By the way, where's Cat Noir? You've saved Paris without him quite a few times recently. Are you two at odds with each other? Ladybug: (from TV) Of course not, it's just that... umm, he's a partner like any other! The most important is to pick the best superheroes for each mission, with or without Cat Noir. No matter what, we've got a great team and we'll always be here to save Paris. (Adrien is shocked.) Adrien: (turns off the TV and sighs) "A partner like any other..."

None of that fits the rest of the season! The conflict you set up was him feeling left out, not him feeling like he wasn't special enough!!! If the conflict was supposed to be him wanting a bigger role, then write that! Have him ask for more responsibility outside of this one episode! Have him learn about Rena Furtive and get upset about her having a special role! Let him think that Alya and Nino know each other's identities because of some special role they've been given! Without those moments, this conflict comes out of nowhere. It also makes him look weirdly demanding and self-centered.

I'm starting to rehash my season four rant, so lets cut this off here and give some final thoughts.

My best guess is as to why this season's main conflict was such a mess is that this is yet another case where the show's commitment to being an episodic formula show cost us good writing. Chat Noir quitting after finding out about Rena Furtive or the identity reveal is a complex plot that's hard to pull off in 20 minutes, especially when you have to include an akuma fight along the way. It also doesn't really standalone as it would be bringing in plot points from other episodes. Add in the fact that a proper resolution to the conflict would probably take more than a single episode and this just doesn't work in canon. None of that fits an episodic formula show so the show couldn't do any of it.

In spite of this, the writers apparently wanted a Ladynoir conflict, so they did the worst of both worlds and just threw in a bunch of random conflicts throughout the season even though those conflicts could never be properly addressed. They also didn't want to make every episode depressing because this is supposed to be a fun show for kids and so the majority of the season sees Ladynoir being totally fine, completely undermining this supposed conflict. I've said it before and I'll say it again: Ladynoir are simply way too happy in season four for me to buy into this supposed conflict.

I'll end by once again thanking anon for the rant! It was a genuine relief to read near identical thoughts from someone fresh from a rewatch where they watched with the full knowledge of what the conflict was supposed to be.

(Note anon I did get part two of this ask. It's queued for tomorrow.)

#anon ask #ml writing critical #ml writing salt #kuro neko my beloathed #Formula show problems #adrien deserves better #He has so many valid sources of anger in season four and the writers used none of them #season four my beloathed

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marcussour · 5 months ago

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EXU: Divergence E01 random bits and thoughts

Guess who's back, back again? Let's do this

Brennan giving the pass to Matt giving the pass to Sam to make the ad

The production team really outdid themselves with the new intro and music for EXU

Oh no, wasted opportunity by Brennan by not starting the episode with just a 1 word referring an elemental concept (tho to be fair, we all were expecting that)

Starting with a vampiric hobgoblin tho, great choice

Loved the change of pace regarding Calamity and Downfall of, ok, we're starting deep within the Betrayers sphere of influence, and everything is terrible

Garen! Love it (there goes my guess that Matt was gonna play a young Ludinus)

Level 0?! Oh, that's an amazing choice, again, great contrast with how the other ones were super high level (and one basically gods)

A dwarf you say? Name Dari? Related to Matt's character?

Nia! Already love her

"I keep my hope quiet but I will never let them take it from me"

Fiedra! love the cockroach tatoo

Hand jokes galore!

"Is there anything remotely drinkable in this kitchen?"; "There's a bucket of blood under the chop shelf"

Kephekedriel's hilarious

Oh, we got 2 dragonborns

Erro! Crokas!

This 4 armed dude kinda sounds like Brennan's impression of Tim Curry, just dialed back a notch. I was waiting for him to ask Nia for some CHAIN WALLETS

Brennan do love some tiny little freaks

Oh, this thing with the mice and the fleas is super interesting. I kinda saw them as, not only some kinda of heralds of change (is it the Changebringer or the Wildmother?), but, is it like, the fleas biting and giving some light like, hope is contagious?

It was so obvious that the stuff at the beginning of the Prime deities being defeated was just propaganda, but its great to have the confirmation. Also, it fits with the theme of the campaign so much, like, Brennan's not being subtle at all, but sometimes there's no time for subtlety

STOP FIDGETING

"It's okay. I wouldn't want to help me either"

"IT'S SO BAD"

Bless by bug-bite. See, there's something here.

They really left the bad rolls for the second half of the episode... and then it comes Jasmine with a 24

Matt's rolling incredibly for a character that's level 0, he's so happy that he's finally getting good rolls for once.

Oh, it just dawned on me, this is the preambule to the Wildmother's fight with the Strife Emperor

Several thousand mice!

The well honored tradition of having a door being the fiercest enemy they've faced so far (which, since they're all level 0, makes total sense)

Oh Crokas, sweetie

"What do you do if you see a miracle?"

Crokas grunts are amazing

Great to see that there's the remnants of how the Dawnfather and the Storm Lord helped the Wildmother defeat the Strife Emperor

"10 gets you somebody, 15 gets you some buddies, 20 gets you everybody", see, I love so much that kind of wordplay that Brennan always do, dude's just so good at this

Oh, those rolls by Jasmine were just terrible

Liam nonchanantly with that Nat20

Starmian Fiddleflask, amazing name, no notes

A bottle of red wine, a wheel of cheese and a bottle of fish roe, not a bad start tbh

"Sorry Vox Machina, get good"

One night over and Fiedra's already talking about eating people

Oh, Alexander has a mean Gollum imitation, giving Liam a run for his money

Once again, the contrast between the opulence of Avalir in Calamity vs the characters making dairy checks to survive and struggling to find food and water here in Divergence

RIP Starmian

That last scene with the party watching the Stormlord passing through was incredible. The highlighting of the rain doble nature as both creation and destruction. Crokas conversation with the Stormlord.

Give and take and take and take and give and take.

#critical role #critical role spoilers #exu divergence #exu divergence spoilers

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m-writesstuff · 9 months ago

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undercover - aaron hotchner

chapter 1

lying.

i like lying.

especially when it involves waking up next to aaron fucking hotchner.

we were undercover, playing as the stork killers next victims, jane and aaron hunter, a couple in need of a miracle, preferably one that came in the shape of a human baby. the killer, doctor james hader, who specialized in fertility, had been stalking us for the past three weeks after we visited his clinic, so it wasn’t really a surprise when i saw his white van parked across the street from our bedroom window. doctor hader was a very obvious stalker, which made me wonder if the two couples he had murdered before had caught on to the white van parked across the street for their houses.

i sigh, and get up to go make breakfast, just as a loving wife would do. yuck. so glad my bachelors in forensic science had led to being reduced to a stereotype.

the bed is warm and seems to be enticing me to lay back down as i pull the covers off my legs and stand. i turn to look down at aaron in the bed, he seems calm in his sleep, it makes me smile. he used to look like that awake. calm and kind, but years of stressful cases while juggling the politics that come with the bau had turned him into a very serious man. we started working together 5 years ago, when i became the first woman on the team and unlike the rest of my co-workers, he seemed to actually respect me for more than my looks. we quickly became close friends, but we never seemed to hangout outside of work. now here we were, stuck together in a two bedroom/two bathroom in the fucking suburbs. it wasn’t that this life didn’t appeal to me. i just didn’t love the idea of relying on a man to provide for me. it made me feel trapped, but this was only my life until the case closes, which seemed to never come.

i reached the kitchen and begin getting out eggs, bread and a tomato. while the bread toasts and the eggs cook i cut the tomato into slices and divide them into two plates. soon enough i have a beautiful breakfast plated and i set the plates down on the table. aaron walks in at that moment, in a white tee and plaid pyjama pants.

“thanks.” he mutters as he sits down. he’s not much of a talker in the morning.

“you’re welcome.”

we eat in silence. once he finishes, he takes my empty plate and begins washing the dishes while i shower and get dressed.

“he was here.” i say when i return.

aaron looks up from the plate he’s drying. “hader?”

“who else aaron?” i respond, grabbing the pan and a dish towel.

he rolls his eyes. “i must have missed him, he was gone when i woke up.”

“hmm.”

“what?�� he asks, looking at puzzled.

“its just… well, he always leaves after i wake up.” i start. “it’s like he’s only interested in me. maybe he’s after the women but kills the men to get them out of the way.

”“maybe.” he says.

i look at him with a frustrated expression.

“what?” he asks while yawning.

i roll my eyes as i put the pan into the cupboard. “thanks for supporting my theory aaron.”

he chuckles. “oh cmon, janie,” that stupid nickname makes me blush slightly, “we don’t have proof he’s after just the women, he stalks them for weeks and kills them both.”

i sigh, “just a thought.”

he finishes the dishes. and turns his body to face me. “keep thinking, well figure it out.” he smiles at me.

“bring it up to the team?” i ask.

“jane…”

“oh cmon! think about it, he doesn’t follow you to work, he focuses on me when we go in for consultations, and he always leaves when i get up for the day.” he doesn’t seem convinced, we stare at each other for a moment, “please? do it for me, your lovely wife.” i tease.

he pauses staring at me intensely for a few seconds. “fine.”

i break into a smile, which he returns. “thank you aaron.”

he sighs and walks off to get ready for work.

aaron was the lucky one, he got to return to work everyday as the town where we were stationed was only 30 minutes from headquarters. i, on the other hand, got to play house. cooking and cleaning were basically all i got up to during the day. it was dull. but, occasionally, aaron would bring back reports for me to fill out regarding our operation, but other than that i spend my day doing nothing important.

i watch from the kitchen table as aaron grabs his coat and gets ready to leave.

he opens the door, “hey,” i walk over to him, “don't forget we have another consultation at 3.”

he smiles at me, “i’ll be home at 2 then.” theres a pause before he begins talking again, “have a good day jane.” he closes the door.

my day goes by normally, i clean the house, which takes under an hour because i do it everyday. then, i spend the rest of my day on the couch watching the news, desperate to feel like i’m in the field. when i look up from the tv, the clock on the oven reads 1:45. shit, there goes my day.

i decide to make a quick snack for aaron when he gets back. by the time i’m done, i hear the doorknob turn, speak of the devil.

aaron walks calmly through the door and takes off his coat. “hungry?” i ask

he looks at me, sitting on the counter calmly, as he takes off his coat. “very.”

we sit at the table eating the cheese and crackers i had prepared, talking about our days. mine, just as interesting as his. since we were undercover, he was not allowed to be in the field. This meant he was stuck at a desk all day, doing paperwork. exciting.

sooner than i’d like, we hop into his car and begin the 20 minute drive to the clinic.

doctor hader’s fertility clinic was in a small building on main street. aaron and i rode the elevator anxiously. every meeting with the doctor proved more and more useful but also nerve-racking. hader asked the awkward questions, the ones regarding aaron and i’s non existing sex life. i tended to freeze up once asked whereas aaron smoothly spoke of our fake life. it was odd how i feel when he speaks of those things. it’s like there’s a pit in my stomach… a hungry one.

we sit in the waiting room silently, waiting to be called on. i hear the door hinges creak and grab aaron’s hand, putting on the facade of a happy couple. doctor hader is a small, balding man. he avoids eye contact as he invites us in. his office is painted blue, with a couch that faces his large desk. overcompensating much. hader motions for us to sit down as he takes a seat at his desk.

“jane, aaron, wonderful to see you again.” he smiles, that creepy awful smile.

aaron and i smile back, “great to see you too, doctor hader.” aaron says.

“so, let's begin,” hader brings out our file, “you’ve been trying for some time now, yes?”

i blush, “yes, 6 months now.”

“interesting, you’re still trying now correct, with the meds i had prescribed, correct?” he asks.

aaron squeezes my hand to keep me focused, “yes.”

hader looks frustrated, “you’re certain?”

he knows were not having sex, he’s been watching us for weeks.

aaron and i look at each other, “yes.” he says.

the consultation goes on for what feels like forever. when we finally get to leave, it’s not soon enough. i could feel hader’s eyes on me as we head out. i grip onto aaron’s arm.

we ride silently for about half the trip back until i finally speak up. “he knows.”

“what?” aaron says, not looking up from the road.

“he knows were not… you know…” i say.

aaron doesn’t speak for a while.

“aaron.”

he looks at me as we stop for a red light. “i think you know what this means, janie.”

“which is?”

“we have to put on a show for him.”

i freeze, the gears in my head turning slowly as i figure out what he means.

we have to have “sex”.

______________________________________________________________

notes: hello! if you made it this far, thank you!! i appreciate you so much. this is my first story here and i'm super excited to share it with you! it may not be that good but i'm still trying! anyway, have a wonderful day!

#aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x oc

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still-breathing-au-p3r · 7 months ago

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Akihiko practically has to excavate the first-aid kit from under layers and layers of built up miscellanea that has been stashed in the supply closet over the years. As he digs, he thanks god, Buddha, or whoever else might be listening that Shinji hadn’t put up a fight about being checked over. That has to count as a minor miracle.

It has been a while since they’ve dressed each other’s wounds like this, now that he thinks of it. Since before Shinji had left, back when Akihiko was the only one on the team with any healing abilities and they’d had to budget his stamina to a miserly degree.

These days, between Takeba, Amada, and Arisato, they basically never have to worry about anybody spreading themselves too thin with healing, so they don’t ever leave Tartarus battered enough to need mundane patching up.

Once he finally finds the kit, Akihiko sheds his battle harness and armband and sets them gracelessly on the dining table. He settles on the couch next to Shinji while he undresses himself. It’s slow going, Shinji’s movements stiff and careful, but Akihiko doesn’t insult him by butting in. He peels his gloves off and waits patiently. When Shinji pulls the sweater over his head, his hat slides off along with it. He doesn’t bother putting it back on.

He looks smaller without any of his usual layers to bulk out his shape. It feels wrong to think of Shinji as ‘small’ in any context, even if it’s only in comparison. Objectively, Akihiko knows it isn’t even true– Shinji’s taller now than he was back then, his shoulders wider and his ribcage broader.

At the same time, it’s harrowingly true. He’s visibly underweight, and not all of that can be due to his time in the coma. It’s like there simply isn’t enough of him, and what’s there is stretched too-thin over his frame.

This is also the first time Akihiko’s seen the bandages around Shinji’s shoulder and abdomen. There are no red stains seeping through the gauze, which is a relief. He starts to carefully peel the medical tape free from Shinji’s skin, letting the crash course Nakai-san had given him on bandage changing run on loop through his mind.

It doesn’t occur to him until the first bandage is removed and the knotted starburst shape is on full display: it’s the first time Akihiko has seen the scars, either.

A halo of puckered skin interrupts Shinj’s shoulder, fanning out in shiny pink ridges around the bruise-red, sunken center. Its twin on his chest is slightly larger and more concave.

He hadn’t realized how big any of them would be. The ones up near his shoulder especially, where the bullet had gone all the way through him–

It reinforces with sickening clarity just how much of a miracle it is that Shinji pulled through. That he’s still here.

Akihiko jolts. Shinji isn’t even facing in his direction, so what–?

Shinji rolls one shoulder– the unscarred one– and Akihiko knows without needing to look that he’s rolling his eyes too. He ignores the display of petulance and gets to work surveying for new damage, starting with the shoulder.

There’s no fresh blood, and the area around the scar doesn’t look damaged or inflamed at least. Just to be sure, Akihiko probes the surrounding skin gingerly with the pads of his fingers, testing for swelling or anything that feels overly warm to the touch.

Shinji shudders and Akihiko jerks his hand away.

Shinji only shrugs– he does it with both shoulders, evidently by mistake, since he immediately flinches and bites out a curse under his breath.

Well, even if he’s downplaying it, he’s still admitting to it. Akihiko had been planning on getting Shinji started with his physical therapy routine tomorrow (or today, he supposes, since it’s after midnight) but…now he’s not sure.

Maybe he should hold off and give Shinji a break. He knows both from his own experience and the extensive amount of research he’d pored over after Shinji had (begrudgingly) asked for his help– pushing too hard will only stall his recovery, or even make things worse.

There are some simple stretches he could try to coach Shinji through that wouldn’t be too strenuous or time-consuming, and that might also help with the pain. But he knows Shinji will still push back against even that, on principle if nothing else. Picking that particular fight would probably put just as much strain on his body as Akihiko was trying to avoid to begin with.

And hell, after everything that’s happened, Akihiko isn’t sure he has the energy for it, either. They all deserve a break.

Shinji obeys with the put-upon air of a cat being moved out of the way of foot traffic, but he’s not able to fully conceal how much of an effort it is for him. The scar on Shinji’s side doesn’t seem to have re-opened either. There is no exit wound counterpart on his back.

Unbidden, Akihiko’s thoughts are invaded by the question of whether they had removed every piece of the bullet while Shinji was on the operating table, or if some fragments of it had been irretrievable. Nausea crawls through his stomach at the idea. He doesn’t ask.

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livin4woso · 1 year ago

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Breaking the media

Chapter 4- moving on in

Your alarm rang at the ungodly hour of 7.30 you quickly shut it off and forced yourself out of bed training didnt start till 9.30 but knowing you its going to take atleast 2hrs to get ready. You wandered into the small kitchen and realised that you needed to go shopping you had been so caught up in being ready for training that you hadn't had the chance to get shopping. Your first thought was to just find the nearest shop and buy what you needed however you thought going to a local cafe was a smarter choice and would be better than your terrible cooking skills.

It didnt take long for you to find a cafe with the help of Google maps and being placed in a busy small town. The cafe you had found was very reserved and ran by an old spanish women which was happy to greet you as you stood with your Barcelona sweats on and a giant backpack filled with your training kit. "Thank you so much, how much is it" you asked after having the best avocado on toast you had ever tasted and a mocha that was brew to perfection "its on the house dear, you're welcome back anytime" she said clearling you plates away "no no please let me pay" you practically begged the older women to let you pay but she refused.

After excepting your fate and enjoying your time in the cafe you forgot to check the time and saw it was 9.10 am you'd spent an 1hr in the cafe "shit" you mumbled to yourself and waved the old women goodbye. Now if miracles exists this was one you were 25 minutes away from the training ground and somehow you had made it there for 9.25. With 5 minutes to spare you walked into the changing room to find that you were the last one in and everyone was waiting for you. You knew that wasn't the best impression but atleast you weren't late "captain im so sorry, i didn't mean to show up so far behind i wont do it again" you pleaded to your new captain as you had a feeling she was ready to snap at you from the gaze she gave you "dont apologise its okay just next time be earlier, its your first day dont stress" she said and put a hand on your shoulder in reassurance.

Training had gone well for you, you had very quickly proved yourself to fit to the rumors of being a promising young talent. If football was a language you were fluent everything made sense to you the way the ball moved at your feet it was natural. Everyone was fairly impressed with your skill "you worried luce" mapi joked digging her elbow into lucys side "don't even" she said deadpanning her face of course lucy was the starter over you but you were definitely a threat you were half of lucys age and developing quicker than ever. You walked back to the changing room and got changed quickly sending everyone a goodbye before heading off the walk home as you needed to shop.

This is when lucy needed to bring up your living suitation but she had no power to get this changed she needed to tell alexia "ale, can i talk to you" she said dragging the spainard to the side of the room "sure whats up" she said back "its about y/n" lucy said trying to figure out whats the best way to word this "whats wrong?" Alexia responded her eyebrows knitted together she cared for you and she didnt understand why she was so protective over you even though the two of you rarely spoke, you rarely spoke to anyone unless it was for a drill. "Ermm so basically she's living by herself the team have bought her an apartment and shes been walking to the training ground.. and like yes i know she probably can take care of herself. But shes 16.. and" lucy was rambling "what? She's living by herself she knows no spanish and probably doesn't know how to wash her clothes... we've got to sort this" alexia said almost shocked in the stupidity of the management team what were they thinking a 16 year old by herself.

Alexia had went to talk to jona after she told lucy she would sort out the issue, "jona were abouts does y/n live?" She questioned him "its in de la tres torres apartment 4b" he said "why?" "Im going to check up on her and tell her she is moving in with me, im not having a 16yr old live by herself in a foreign country" she said back firmly grabbing her car keys out of her bag and storming off to the car park before jona could protest against the captain l, you were living with her she didn't care she had a spare room and was quite happy to share it as she wouldn't mind the company on her days off. She drove to your apartment parking her car outside she was preparing for your stubborn attitude to not be willing to leave as she knows how teenagers can be.

It was 5.30pm when the knock came at your door you were about to head off shopping so you had no idea who it could be. You opened your door to find alexia stood outside "am i in trouble?" You questioned it would be the only reason she was at your door "no course not how about we have a seat" she said as you brought her to your sofa "nice place" she commented glazing around the room it was nicely decorated but it wasnt a home "yeah its alright, just a bit lonely sometimes" you said sitting down next to her. "So i was wondering if instead of living here by yourself, you come and live with me in my apartment i have a spare room and it would be much nicer and you would have less responsibility" she began "ermm i dont know captain i dont wanna crash your place.. honestly im fine here" you said almost believing your own words. You weren't fine in that apartment you had no idea how to live by yourself but you didnt want to burden alexia with your problems or with your presence. "No no pequeña, please come live with me honestly it would put me at peace of mind that you are well fed and rest" she said back "really?" You questioned you almost couldn't believe she cared that much for you "of course but please stop calling me captain and call me alexia or ale whatever one" she said almost jokingly.

You had agreed to stay with her and you began to pack but it was getting late and you hadn't eaten yet "umm ale.. alexia can we just go now im really hungry and have no energy to finish packing" you said walking into the living room where she was lay on your couch "of course pequeña how about tomorrow you come back after training then call me when you're finished packing" she said looking up to you. You just nodded you were so tired and it was only 6.30. She brought you to her car and you slipped into the passenger seat the drive was longer than you had expected it was a 30 minutes away yet thats all it took for you to drift of asleep in her car your head resting against the window. Alexia looked over to you her heart almost melting at the sight she knew how hard this must be for you and yet you still hadn't spoke to anyone. The car had pulled into alexias driveway and just as she turned the car off you had stirred awake from your sleep "we're here amor how about you get your bags from the boot" she said getting out the car and made her way to open the door to her house. Her house was beautifully furnished it was so her stylish yet not over the top you couldn't believe you were going to be staying in her home. "How about you start putting your stuff in the bedroom while i cook us some food" she said as she showed you to your new room.

The dish was simple it was just some pasta but it was so tasty you had been craving a home cooked meal. "Thank you so much" you said as you moved to wash your plate in the sink, "no worries amor just wash your dish then you can head off to sleep and i will wake you up" she said giving you a smile. You had climbed into bed this time the sheets felt a lot more comforting and your bed felt so much warmer you had fell asleep with ease. Alexia had came up to check on you but as she peeked her head through the door she found you passed out asleep and she decided to let you sleep.

#alexia x reader #barca femeni #woso #woso x reader #wsl #mapi leon #alexia putellas

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acute-crashout-jeyuso · 9 months ago

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Between the Ropes… a Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley fanfic.

Chapter 27: it was all lavender…

Jey sat perched on the edge of the hospital chair, his heart in his throat as he watched the medical team move in to remove the tube from Rhea’s throat. The air in the room felt suffocating, each beep from the machines echoing like a drumbeat of tension. He could barely breathe, his entire body thrumming with a nervous energy he couldn’t suppress.

In the corner, Damian stood by the window, frantically dialing on his phone. His voice buzzed with a mix of disbelief and relief as he spoke. “She’s awake. Yes, she’s really awake,” he repeated, sharing the news with Rhea’s parents, close friends, and everyone who had been waiting, praying for a miracle.

But Jey barely heard him. His focus was locked on Rhea, her face pale and still against the white of the hospital bed, her chest rising and falling slowly. He was terrified—terrified of the process that was about to happen, terrified of what she might say or not say when she was fully conscious. He had fought so hard to get her back, but now he felt powerless, watching her struggle against the lingering sedation.

The nurse gently peeled away the tape securing the tube to Rhea’s mouth, her movements slow and precise. The respiratory therapist deflated the cuff in Rhea’s airway, and Jey braced himself for what came next. His pulse raced as they began to carefully pull the tube free, inch by agonizing inch.

Rhea’s body fought against the sensation, her throat convulsing in protest. Her face twisted, and her eyes fluttered as she gagged, the sound low and guttural. Jey’s hands tightened into fists at his sides, his heart aching at the sight of her discomfort. He wanted to reach out, to hold her, to tell her it would be okay, but he knew this had to happen. She had to endure this moment to move forward.

“Almost there,” the nurse murmured softly, her hands steady. “You’re doing great, Demi.”

Rhea gagged one last time, her body shuddering as the tube finally slid free. She gasped, her chest heaving as she instinctively tried to catch her breath. A nurse quickly slipped an oxygen mask over her face, adjusting the straps with care.

“Just breathe slowly,” the nurse instructed gently, her voice calm. “In and out. You’re doing fine.”

Jey let out a shaky breath, watching as Rhea’s body settled, the panic in her eyes gradually fading as her breathing steadied. The fear that had been clawing at his chest began to loosen its grip, replaced by an overwhelming sense of relief. She was breathing on her own. She was here.

The doctor stepped forward, clipboard in hand, his demeanor professional yet warm. “Demi, we’re going to do some tests now,” he explained gently, using her given name, aware of the importance of grounding her in her identity. “We need to make sure everything is functioning as it should—both physically and mentally. Is that okay?”

Rhea blinked, her eyes still slightly glazed, but she managed a small, almost imperceptible nod. Jey’s heart leaped. She was aware enough to respond.

The doctor started with the most basic question, the one Jey had been silently praying she could answer.

“Demi,” the doctor asked softly, leaning in so she could hear him clearly. “Can you tell me your full name?”

Rhea’s lips parted beneath the oxygen mask, her voice a faint rasp, but the answer was clear enough to make Jey’s heart stutter.

“Demi… Demi Addams.”

Jey’s chest tightened. She remembered her name. It wasn’t a huge leap—it was instinctive—but to him, it was monumental.

“Good,” the doctor responded with a soft smile. “Do you know who this man sitting next to you is?”

Rhea’s eyes shifted toward Jey, and for a moment, the room seemed to shrink, as though it were only the two of them existing in the space. Their gazes locked, and though her expression was weak, the connection between them was unbreakable.

“Joshua…” she croaked, her voice weak but filled with certainty. “He’s… my fiancé.”

Jey’s breath caught in his throat, his vision blurring with unshed tears. Here she was, in this room, claiming him as her future. It was as if that simple word wrapped itself around his heart, squeezing with a fierce and undeniable truth.

The doctor nodded, making a note on his clipboard before moving on to the next question. “Demi, can you tell me why you’re here? Do you remember what happened?”

Jey held his breath, his entire body tensing. This was the question he had dreaded—the question that could unravel everything they had worked so hard to build. He watched Rhea closely, saw the way her brow furrowed as she searched her memory, confusion clouding her gaze.

“I…” Rhea’s voice wavered, her eyes darting between Jey and the doctor, uncertainty etched into every line of her face. “I don’t… I don’t remember much. I just… I remember… I just… I was very sad and I swallowed the pills.”

Her voice cracked, and Jey felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs.

“I swallowed them,” Rhea repeated, her voice barely a whisper now, her gaze distant as she tried to piece together the fragments of her memory. “I don’t remember anything after that. I don’t know how I got here…”

Jey’s hand clenched around hers, grounding her, reminding her that she wasn’t alone. His heart broke all over again at the thought of how lost and hopeless she must have felt in that moment. He wished he could take away that pain, that memory, and erase it from her mind forever.

The doctor’s expression softened, his voice gentle as he spoke. “That’s okay, Demi. It’s not uncommon for people to have gaps in their memory after something like this. You’re safe now, and we’re going to help you heal.”

He paused, glancing between Rhea and Jey before continuing. “We’re going to run some more tests, just to make sure everything is functioning as it should. I’ll need you to follow my instructions, alright?”

Rhea nodded weakly, her eyes still glazed with exhaustion, but she was there. She was trying.

The doctor began by gently lifting her hand, asking her to squeeze his fingers. Jey watched as her grip tightened, weak but deliberate. The relief he felt was almost overwhelming—she was still there, still fighting.

“Good,” the doctor said softly, moving down to her feet. “Now, can you push your feet against my hands?”

Rhea’s legs trembled slightly as she attempted to push, her muscles clearly weakened from her ordeal, but she managed a small, shaky movement. The doctor smiled faintly. “That’s great, Demi. You’re doing well.”

He continued with a few memory tests, asking her to recall simple details—her birthdate, the name of the current president, what year it was. Jey watched her closely, holding his breath with each question, silently willing her to get through this. And with each hesitant answer, Jey’s heart swelled. She was still there.

“Alright, Demi,” the doctor said after a few more tests, his voice calm and reassuring. “You’re doing really well. Physically, you’re weak, but that’s expected after what you’ve been through. With time, rest, and physical therapy, you’ll regain your strength.”

Jey let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, his fingers still tightly wrapped around Rhea’s. The doctor’s words were a balm to the storm that had been raging inside him for days. She was going to be okay. She was here, and she was going to make it.

As the nurses moved around the room, adjusting her IV and checking her vitals, Jey leaned down, pressing his forehead gently to Rhea’s. “I’m right here, baby,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Rhea’s eyes fluttered open, her fingers weakly curling around his. She couldn’t speak, but she didn’t need to. In her gaze, Jey saw everything he needed to know—the strength, the fight, the love.

They had come so close to losing everything, but somehow, against all odds, they were still here. Together.

One of the nurses, a gentle woman with kind eyes, approached Rhea's bedside and adjusted the bedding. "I'll be back soon to remove the feeding tube from your stomach and the catheter," she explained softly, her voice warm with care. "We want to take things slow, but you're doing amazing, Demi. You're stronger than you know." Rhea nodded, smiling very softly.

The nurse exited, leaving behind an air of calm assurance, though the promise of removing the feeding tube and catheter lingered in the background. Rhea didn’t seem bothered by the thought of it—not anymore. She had faced something far more terrifying than any medical procedure. Jey had been holding her hand, their fingers laced together as if they feared letting go might shatter the fragile peace between them.

Rhea, ever so weary but grateful to be alive, leaned into his presence. Her body still felt foreign to her—weak, stiff, but alive. And in this moment, with Jey by her side, that was enough.

Jey’s emotions, however, were brimming over the edge. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. He looked at Rhea, his eyes filled with love, relief, and the overwhelming fear that had clawed at him for what felt like an eternity. His heart was racing, the rush of emotions was too much, and without thinking, he pulled her close again, this time giving her the deepest kiss he had ever shared with her. It wasn’t gentle; it was raw, filled with all the words he couldn’t speak.

He didn’t care about her being weak, or the remnants of the hospital around them, or even the fact that her breath hadn’t touched fresh air in days. None of it mattered. She was here, she was alive, and for him, that was everything.

Rhea, though weak, responded, her hand instinctively moving to cup his cheek as their lips met, trembling with the fragility of life but burning with the heat of survival. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a vow, a plea, a thank-you. Their love—despite the pain, despite the chaos—still existed, and they would fight for it.

But just as the moment deepened, a sound cut through the emotional haze.

A throat cleared.

Jey and Rhea pulled back, breathless, their foreheads still touching as they turned to see Damian standing there awkwardly in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot, clearly unsure of how to navigate the moment.

Jey looked back at Rhea, his eyes wide with both surprise and amusement. Rhea gave a weak laugh, the softest chuckle she could muster, the sound cracking the tension in the room.

Damian cleared his throat again, but this time he smiled a little, albeit awkwardly. “Sorry… didn’t mean to interrupt, but, uh… it’s just… wow.” His voice faltered, betraying the deeper emotions that lurked beneath his usually cool demeanor.

Without another word, Damian crossed the room and made his way to Rhea’s bedside. His eyes were misted over as he approached her, his usual confidence washed away by the sheer relief of seeing her awake. He bent down slowly, gently wrapping his arms around her in a tight, but tender hug. Rhea, though still weak, hugged him back as much as she could. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to let him know she was there with him, that she was back.

“Demi…” Damian’s voice cracked as he pulled back slightly, just enough to look into her eyes. “I… I was scared, you know? I was terrified.”

Rhea gave him a small, understanding nod, her own voice barely a whisper. “I’m sorry…”

“You don’t have to apologize.” Damian interrupted her, shaking his head. “I’m just glad you’re here. You scared the hell out of all of us.”

Jey sat beside her quietly, watching the exchange but feeling the weight of Damian’s words. He knew, deep down, that Damian was carrying something heavier. Jey hadn’t been the one to find her—Damian had. He was the one to call the ambulance, to ride with her, to experience the horror in real-time, and the trauma of that moment was etched into every word Damian spoke now.

Damian took a breath, trying to steady himself. “I… I found you,” he whispered, his voice barely holding together. “I thought I was too late. I thought I lost you.”

Rhea’s eyes softened, her heart aching for the pain she had caused. Damian had always been her protector, her friend, and seeing the way he was unraveling in front of her hurt more than anything she could have imagined.

“I wasn’t thinking about it…” Rhea’s voice was broken, barely audible.

Damian shook his head, squeezing her hand. “It’s not about me. I just—God, I couldn’t bear losing you.” His voice wavered again, his breath catching as if he were trying to hold back tears.

Jey sat back slightly, allowing the moment between them, a silent anchor in the storm of emotions swirling around them.

Damian swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure. “You have no idea how much it means to see you awake. We… we thought…” He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Rhea nodded, understanding, her own emotions swirling. She didn’t remember much of what had happened after she swallowed the pills, but seeing Damian this broken, she just couldn’t imagine the weight of that moment on him.

As Damian pulled back from the hug, he offered her a small, fragile smile. “I’m just so glad you’re here, Demi.”

Rhea gave him a tearful nod, her emotions too overwhelming to find the right words. She reached out for Jey, her hand instinctively seeking his, and Jey wrapped his arms around her again, pulling her close as Damian looked on, finally allowing himself to smile at the sight before him.

There they were—Rhea and Jey—meant to be, despite the pain, despite the heartbreak. Damian could see it now more than ever. They were fighters, and in this moment, they were stronger than they had ever been before.

Several hours later, it was currently 1 in the morning, and Rhea found herself still wide awake. The soft hum of the hospital environment was a strange comfort, a sterile difference to the chaos she had faced only days ago. With each tick of the clock, she felt a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration coursing through her veins. Her day had been long and emotional, filled with reunions and heart-to-heart conversations.

Her parents had come to see her, their faces filled with a mixture of relief and worry. The reunion had been beautiful, a moment of tears and laughter as they embraced her tightly, soaking in the reality that she was alive and awake. Her mother, with tears in her eyes, had held her hand, promising they would face whatever came next together. Her father, usually so stoic, had let his guard down, his voice cracking as he expressed how terrified he had been. Rhea felt a warmth in her heart, grateful for their unwavering love and support.

After their visit, her parents retreated back to Damian’s loft, seeking some semblance of normalcy amidst the whirlwind. Damian had joined them, likely needing a moment to gather his thoughts after the emotional rollercoaster of the day.

Now, Rhea lay in her hospital bed, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts swirling. She picked up her phone, eager to connect with those who meant the most to her. She opened a FaceTime call with Jon and Trinity. As soon as their faces appeared on the screen, their expressions shifted from concern to joy.

“Rhea!” Trinity squealed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Oh my God, you’re awake!”

Jon’s face broke into a wide grin, relief washing over him. “Demi! We’ve been so worried. You have no idea how happy we are to see you!”

Rhea couldn’t help but smile back, the love and support from her friends filling the room with warmth. They talked animatedly, recounting stories from their lives, sharing laughter, and exchanging silly memories. It felt so good to see their faces and hear their voices, a reminder that life continued outside of the hospital walls. Their enthusiasm lifted Rhea’s spirits even higher, and for a brief moment, she forgot about the gravity of her situation.

After the call ended, Rhea felt a renewed sense of connection and strength. She then dialed Liv, and as soon as Liv’s face filled the screen, the happiness radiating from her was nothing but genuine love. “Oh my God, Rhea! You’re really back! I can’t believe it!” Liv exclaimed, her voice full of excitement. “I’ve missed you so much!”

“I missed you too,” Rhea replied, her heart swelling with gratitude for her friends. Their bond was unbreakable, even in the darkest of times. Liv’s unfiltered joy reminded her of the power of friendship and support, grounding her amidst the chaos.

Once they finished, Rhea hesitated for a moment before dialing Paul’s number. She knew how much he valued his sleep, often prioritizing it over late-night work calls. But the sight of his face brought her comfort, and she hoped he’d be just as pleased to hear from her.

When Paul answered, he was clearly groggy, eyes still heavy with sleep. But as soon as he registered who was on the other end of the call, his expression shifted dramatically. “Rhea? Is that really you?” His voice was thick with sleep, but there was an undeniable warmth to it.

“Yes! I’m awake! I just wanted to call and let you know!” she said, her voice brightening.

He smiled widely, the kind of smile that radiated warmth. “You had us all worried sick. I’m so glad to see you’re okay. I knew you would pull through, but still… it’s a relief to hear your voice.”

They chatted for a bit, Rhea updating him on everything that had happened since she woke up. Paul listened intently, offering his unwavering support and reassurance. After hanging up, Rhea felt lighter, as if each call had woven her back into the fabric of her life.

After all that, Jey had been there the entire time, quietly enjoying her company, relishing the sound of her laughter and the light in her eyes returning. He sat beside her, a comforting presence, his hand resting gently on hers. His heart swelled as he watched her reconnect with those she loved, each conversation a stitch in the tapestry of their shared life.

As the hours ticked by, Rhea felt the emotional weight of the day beginning to settle, but there was something special about this moment. Jey turned to her, his gaze soft, filled with affection and unspoken words. “You’re amazing, you know that?” he said quietly.

Rhea met his gaze, her heart swelling at his words. “I couldn’t have done it without you… without all of you,” she replied, squeezing his hand tightly. “You were all my light in the dark.”

Jey leaned in closer, their foreheads nearly touching. “And I’ll always be here, Rhea. Always.”

As the hospital room continued to be with the night sky, the soft beeping of the monitors had finally became a comforting rhythm. Jey glanced at Rhea, feeling a mix of affection and concern swirling within him. He took a deep breath, summoning the courage to ask, “Can I… can I sleep with you?”

Rhea’s lips curved into a warm smile, her eyes shimmering with gratitude and something deeper. “Yes,” she replied softly, and that single word filled Jey with a sense of relief and longing.

Carefully, Jey climbed into the narrow hospital bed beside her. The space was small, but they managed to fit, Jey adjusting his position to ensure he faced Rhea directly. He felt the warmth radiating from her, a soothing presence he had missed terribly.

Rhea scooted a bit over, laying on her side to face him. Jey gently placed his hand on her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against her skin. He wanted to memorize every detail, every moment of this reunion. But as he looked into her eyes, he felt the weight of unspoken questions pressing on his heart.

“Rhea,” he began hesitantly, “why did you leave?” The memory of that night haunted him—the though of her removing the jewelry he had given her, her face so somber and resolute. It felt like a wound that had never healed, and he needed to understand.

Rhea’s expression shifted, a sadness washing over her features. It was as if the conversation was something she had dreaded, but Jey needed to know. “I thought… I thought it was the right choice at the time,” she finally replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

“What do you mean?” Jey pressed gently, concern etched on his face. “We could’ve worked it out. You didn’t have to leave.”

She looked away, her eyes filled with unshed tears. “I felt like Takecia was still going to pull the divorce with you. I thought it was for the best, for you, for us. I didn’t want to cause you any more pain.”

Jey’s heart sank. “Rhea, you don’t understand. You leaving… it broke me. I felt so lost without you. I thought we could face everything together.”

Rhea’s gaze met his again, her vulnerability raw and real. “I know that now. But in that moment, all I could think about was the pain I was causing, the mess I was in. I thought stepping away was the only way to fix things.”

“Running away doesn’t fix anything,” Jey replied gently, his voice thick with emotion. “It only creates more distance between us. I just wish you had trusted me enough to talk about it, to let me in.”

“I was scared,” Rhea admitted, her voice trembling. “Scared of what it would mean for us, scared of losing you completely. It felt easier to walk away than to fight for something I thought was already lost.”

Jey’s heart ached at her words. “Rhea, nothing was lost. I would’ve fought for you, for us. I still will.”

Tears glistened in Rhea’s eyes as she reached up, grasping Jey’s hand and holding it against her heart. “I’m so sorry, Jey. I never wanted to hurt you. I was just so overwhelmed. I didn’t know what to do.”

“I know,” Jey said softly, his heart swelling with compassion. “But we can face this together now. I won’t let you go again.”

In that moment, surrounded by the soft glow of the hospital lights, Jey felt the weight of their past slowly begin to lift. There was a long road ahead, filled with uncertainty and challenges, but they were together now. And that made all the difference.

As they lay there, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of them in their own little bubble of hope and connection. Jey pressed his forehead against Rhea’s, feeling her warmth and presence envelop him. “I love you, Rhea,” he whispered, the words flowing freely from his heart.

“I love you too, Jey,” she replied, her voice thick with emotion.

—

It was October 25th, 2024, and life was finally starting to return to some sense of normalcy for Rhea and Jey. After being discharged from the hospital this past Monday, Rhea was under strict orders from her doctors: no flying for three weeks to avoid blood clots, no alcohol, and regular therapy sessions with a specialist in Pensacola to address her mental health. On top of that, she was advised to follow up with a neurologist before resuming drinking and to stick to a routine of memory exercises and brain activities to aid her recovery.

Her family had left the previous Sunday after making her promise to call them as soon as she arrived home. Rhea and Jey had taken their time getting back, opting for a rental car the first day before switching to a train for the rest of the journey. They were exhausted by the time they finally made it home on Thursday and spent most of the day catching up on sleep.

While they had been away, Jon and Trinity had been hard at work. They’d not only taken care of Jey and Rhea’s pets, but also set up their new house, making sure everything was perfect for when they returned. Rhea had been so excited to get her animals back that the first thing she did after arriving was call Jon, practically begging for their return. The reunion had been chaotic, with the dogs tearing through the house in excitement and Storm, their cat, lounging indifferently on top of the fridge.

Now, Rhea and Jey were finally settling in. They were sitting at the breakfast bar, Waffle House takeout spread between them, enjoying their first meal together in what felt like forever. The dogs roamed around, still getting used to their new home, while Storm watched from her perch, seemingly unfazed by the canine chaos below.

“You like your waffles?” Jey asked, glancing over at Rhea with a smile.

Rhea nodded as she took another bite, “Yeah, they’re perfect.”

The TV played softly in the background, filling the silence between them as they ate. It was peaceful, a welcome change after everything they’d been through in recent weeks.

Jey, ever the attentive partner, remembered the doctor’s instructions about keeping Rhea engaged with brain activities to aid her recovery. He leaned forward slightly and asked, “You go over that packet the doctor gave you?”

Rhea sighed, rolling her eyes playfully, “Yeah, I went through it. It’s a lot of information, though.”

“Well,” Jey smirked, “let’s put that brain to work.”

Rhea smiled, knowing what was coming next. Jey was tasked with asking her random trivia questions to help with her cognitive skills. He tapped his chin thoughtfully before asking, “Who lifted Andre the Giant at WrestleMania 3?”

Rhea smirked, her competitive spirit kicking in. “The Hulkster, brother!”

Jey grinned, satisfied with her quick answer. “Alright, alright,” he chuckled. “I’ll give you a harder one. What exactly did Stone Cold Steve Austin say at the 1996 King of the Ring tournament to cement his gimmick?”

Rhea couldn’t help but laugh. “Austin 3:16 says I just whooped your ass!”

Jey nodded, laughing along with her. “Okay, now who was he referencing when he said that?”

Rhea paused, frowning as she thought it over. This one was a little harder. Jey watched as she wracked her brain for the answer, giving her some hints along the way. After a few moments, her face lit up. “Jake the Snake Roberts!”

Jey nodded approvingly. “There you go!”

Rhea laughed, relieved that she had gotten it right, even if it took her a little longer than usual. Jey squeezed her hand, leaning in close. “You’re doing great, babe. Doctor’s gonna be real impressed.”

Rhea smiled, feeling a little lighter. The road to recovery might be long, but moments like this reminded her that she didn’t have to face it alone. Jey was right there with her, every step of the way.

Jey smiled at Rhea, his eyes glimmering with a blend of love, relief, and something deeper—an unspoken connection that ran through all the pain they had been through. He reached into his pocket, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he was savoring the significance of what he was about to do. “I’ve got something for you,” he said, his voice soft, a tenderness that made Rhea pause.

She quickly finished her last bite of waffle, her curiosity piqued. When Jey pulled out his wallet and reached inside, Rhea felt a familiar nervous flutter in her chest. Her heart ached the moment she saw what he held between his fingers—her engagement ring, the one she had removed during her darkest moment. It wasn’t just a ring. It was a symbol of their love, their commitment, and the life they had lost but would always carry with them. The ashes of their baby rested within the stone, turning it into something far more meaningful than a simple token of their engagement.

Her breath caught in her throat, and tears filled her eyes as she whispered, “Oh, babe…” The words trembled from her lips, heavy with the weight of everything she felt. Memories of that awful night—the moment she removed the ring, the hopelessness she had felt—clashed with the overwhelming sense of love and safety she felt right now, with Jey sitting across from her.

Jey gently took her hand, his thumb grazing over her skin, a grounding, soothing touch. He slid the ring back onto her finger as if sealing a promise all over again. His gaze never wavered, his eyes locked on hers, communicating a thousand things he wasn’t saying out loud—things like I’m here, I’ll always be here, and We’re stronger together. It was more than just putting a ring back on her finger; it was a reclamation of everything they’d been through, and everything they still had to face.

But Jey wasn’t done. He reached into his pocket again, and this time he pulled out her necklace, the one that also held their baby’s ashes. Rhea’s breath hitched. It felt like all the emotion in the room thickened, wrapping around her like a blanket. Jey stood up, moving behind her with the gentleness he always showed her, especially after her recovery. She felt his fingers brush her skin as he clasped the necklace around her neck. It rested against her chest, the weight of it so much more than the physical presence. It was their baby, their bond, their story.

Rhea’s tears finally spilled over, but she stayed quiet, holding her breath as if speaking would shatter the fragile beauty of the moment. She could feel Jey’s presence behind her—steady, strong—and it made her feel grounded again, something she hadn’t felt in so long.

As she was processing the emotions welling up inside her, Jey reached for his Cuban chain, the one he had worn through every high and low of their relationship. Without a word, he took it off and fastened it around her neck. The cool metal rested beside her baby’s ashes, two symbols of love and protection, two pieces of him that would stay with her no matter where life took them.

She looked up at him, her tears mixing with a soft, almost shy smile. But there was more—Jey wasn’t quite finished yet. He pulled out her permanent bracelet, the one they had gotten together as a testament to their bond. Rhea instinctively held out her hand, her fingers trembling slightly, and scrunched it so he could slide the bracelet back on her wrist. She watched him as he did it, his focus entirely on her, as though he was not just placing jewelry on her body but putting pieces of her soul back together.

Jey then took both of her hands in his, his grip firm yet gentle. His eyes searched hers, and in that gaze, Rhea saw everything—the pain, the love, the fear, the relief. His voice was low, almost breaking with emotion as he said, “No matter what happens to us, you will never have to get rid of these. They’re part of us. Part of our baby. Part of who we are. And nothing, no matter how hard it gets, can ever take that away from you.”

His words felt like an anchor, pulling her back to safety, to love. Tears blurred her vision as she squeezed his hands tightly, letting his words sink in. Each piece of jewelry now felt heavier with the depth of their meaning—more than just metal or stones; they were pieces of her heart, pieces of their life together.

Rhea’s breath hitched as she whispered, “I’ll never let them go.” She closed her eyes, letting the tears fall freely now, but she wasn’t ashamed of them. These tears were different. They weren’t from sorrow, but from the overwhelming realization of how deeply Jey loved her, how committed he was to not just their relationship, but to healing, to moving forward despite the heartache.

She leaned into him, their foreheads touching as she felt the warmth of his love surrounding her. It was a quiet moment, filled with the unspoken promise that no matter how many times life knocked them down, they would rise together.

Jey gently kissed her forehead, then her cheeks where her tears fell, and finally, their lips met in a kiss that wasn’t about passion but connection. A kiss that said, I love you, I see you, I hear you, and we’re going to be okay.

When they pulled apart, their hands still intertwined, Rhea looked up at him through her tears, her heart swelling with gratitude. She knew they still had a long road ahead, but in that moment, wrapped in Jey’s love and the meaning of the jewelry he had returned to her, she felt like they could face anything. Together.

After dinner, Jey and Rhea made their way to the master bedroom, their steps relaxed as they settled in for the night. Jey flipped the TV to an auxiliary input and powered on his PS5, the familiar startup sound filling the room. As the console lit up, he turned to Rhea with a playful grin.

“You up for some video games?” he asked, his tone light but competitive.

Rhea, mid-way through slipping into her pajamas, paused for a moment before smiling. “Always,” she replied, feeling a sense of ease at the thought of some friendly competition. The dogs had already claimed their spots on the king-sized bed, nestled close to where Rhea was about to settle. As she finished changing, she crawled under the covers, the weight of the day slowly dissipating. The bed was cozy and warm, with the gentle hum of the PS5 and the faint light from the TV casting a calming glow in the room.

Jey climbed in beside her, controller in hand, already looking through the games they had. It didn’t take him long to settle on WWE 2K24, his favorite. “I’m about to win this,” he said confidently, flashing a grin.

Rhea laughed, her voice teasing. “Oh please, you’re not that good at 2K, and you know it,” she replied, poking at his competitive streak.

Jey scoffed, pretending to be offended. “Beg to differ. I’ve been practicing.”

“Practicing? Really?” Rhea rolled her eyes, her tone playful but amused. “I won the last three times we played.”

Jey shook his head, determined. “Fluke wins. This time, it’s different.” He scrolled through the character selection screen, hovering over his options. Rhea quickly chose herself, the confident version of her character staring down from the screen. Jey, in response, scrolled to Trinity, his sister-in-law. “Alright, I’ll take Trinity,” he said, locking in his choice.

Rhea raised an eyebrow, glancing at him with a smirk. “Trin? You sure? You better be ready to lose again.”

“We’ll see about that,” Jey chuckled, leaning back against the headboard as he got comfortable.

Rhea then suggested, “How about we raise the stakes a little? Steel cage match?”

Jey’s eyes lit up, his competitive nature flaring even more. “You’re on.”

The bell rang, signaling the start of the match. The tension between them immediately shifted from playful banter to intense focus as they faced off in the virtual ring. Jey was quick to make his first move, but Rhea countered almost effortlessly, her character dodging a strike before executing a flawless suplex.

“I told you, you’re not ready for this,” Rhea teased, keeping her character in control of the match.

Jey growled playfully under his breath, quickly getting back on his feet in the game. “Alright, alright. I see how it is.”

The match went back and forth, both of them trading blows and taunts, their laughter mixing with the sound of the game. The steel cage loomed ominously around their characters as they fought to escape, each trying to outwit the other in a bid for victory.

With every near pinfall and every counter, the intensity of the match grew. Rhea was determined to keep her winning streak alive, while Jey was just as committed to breaking it. But amidst the playful rivalry, there was a lightness in the air—a feeling of normalcy that both of them had been craving after all the emotional weight of the past weeks.

It wasn’t about who won or lost, not really. It was about being there, side by side, enjoying something simple yet meaningful together.

As the match neared its end, Rhea’s character began scaling the cage, her fingers deftly working the controls to climb to victory. Jey, realizing he was moments away from another defeat, frantically tried to bring his character up, attempting to stop her. But it was too late.

With one final button press, Rhea’s character escaped over the top of the cage, hitting the floor and securing the win. The game declared her the victor as the screen flashed her character’s celebration.

Jey threw his head back in defeat, laughing. “Man, how do you keep doing this?”

Rhea smirked, leaning over to give him a playful nudge. “Because I’m just better, babe.”

Jey shook his head, laughing as he leaned back into the pillows. “Alright, you got me this time. But next time, it’s on.”

Rhea just smiled, feeling content and lighthearted for the first time in what felt like forever. “Next time,” she said softly, her voice filled with affection.

—

Saturday October 26th, 2024

Jey woke up to the low hum of his phone vibrating on the nightstand. He reached for it, squinting at the screen—6:30 AM. Carefully, he slid out from under the covers, trying not to disturb Rhea, who was still fast asleep beside him. She shifted slightly but didn’t wake. The dogs perked up from their spot at the foot of the bed, their eyes tracking Jey’s movements. He pressed a finger to his lips, silently pleading with them not to bark or move.

With slow, deliberate steps, Jey tiptoed across the room, gently opening and closing the door behind him. Once out in the hallway, he quickly jogged to the front door, excitement bubbling up as he opened it to greet the van from X’s Party Setups.

The party planner, a woman with a clipboard in hand, smiled at Jey as she stepped out of the van. “Good morning! Where should we start?” she asked in a whisper, understanding the need for silence.

Jey gestured toward the living room. “Set up in here. But please, be really quiet. My wife’s still sleeping,” he said, his voice low but urgent. This was a surprise, after all.

As the decorators began unloading supplies and assembling the party setup, another car pulled into the driveway. Jey glanced out the window and saw Damian stepping out, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and a large white box in hand. Jey waved him over, opening the door slightly wider.

“Hey, come on in,” Jey whispered. “Guest bedroom’s down the hall to the left. Rhea’s still knocked out.”

Damian gave him a knowing grin, handing over the box. “Picked up the cake this morning. The baker was at the airport when I landed.”

Jey carefully accepted the box, opening the fridge to place it on the top shelf. The cake was perfect, just as he had envisioned—a small, but elegant design that held deep meaning for both of them.

“I’m gonna crash for a bit and then pick up Kayden when her flight lands,” Damian said, heading for the guest room.

Jey nodded, turning his attention back to the coffee maker as the party planners worked quietly around him. He poured himself a cup, leaning against the kitchen counter while he watched the decorations take shape in the living room. This was it—Rhea’s long-awaited birthday celebration. It had been delayed due to…well, everything. But today, Jey was determined to make it perfect for her, a queen’s day for the woman who had been through hell and back.

He had quietly confirmed everything with the party planners last night after Rhea had fallen asleep. The accident and everything that followed had thrown things off track, but Jey had worked hard to reschedule and make sure it still happened, because Rhea deserved to feel special—especially now.

The guest list was intimate, filled with the people closest to them. Damian and Kayden, Jon and Trinity, Liv and Dom, Finn, his brother Joseph and his wife Almia, cousin Joe and his wife Galina, and his parents. They had all agreed to come and celebrate with Rhea. Trinity had a key role in the plan for the day—she would show up around 9 AM to whisk Rhea away for some pampering. The plan was to trick Rhea into thinking they were just going to get their nails and hair done, with Trinity helping her pick out a perfect outfit for the “night out.”

The real plan? Everyone would arrive by 5:30 to set up the surprise. Jey smiled to himself, knowing how much Rhea would love it. And to get her out of the house without suspecting anything? A blindfold. Simple, but effective.

He couldn’t wait to see the look on her face. Today was going to be perfect.

—

Rhea stirred at the gentle nudging on her shoulder. Blinking her eyes open, she turned to see Trinity standing beside the bed, an amused smile on her face. “Rise and shine, my little bundle of darkness!” Trinity chirped, her voice light and playful.

Rhea groaned softly but sat up, rubbing her eyes. “Where’s Jey?” she asked, looking around as if expecting to see him lounging somewhere in the room.

Trinity shrugged casually. “He and Jon went out for a run. But forget about them for now! Today, it’s all about you.” Trinity’s eyes twinkled as she added, “I’m treating you to a full day of pampering.”

Rhea’s interest piqued immediately. “Really?” she asked, suddenly more awake. “I could really use it. Nails, hair… honestly, everything needs help.”

“Perfect,” Trinity beamed. “That’s exactly what we’re going to do. Now, get dressed and shower, and I’ll wait right here with the dogs.”

Rhea nodded, her mood brightening at the thought of a day dedicated entirely to her. She grabbed some clothes from the dresser—settling on blue jean shorts and an oversized Jey Uso shirt, a comfortable but stylish pick—and headed into the bathroom. As she showered, she thought about how nice it would be to spend the day with Trinity, away from all the stress. She towel-dried her hair and quickly changed into her clothes, sliding her feet into her trusty Vans.

When Rhea came out, Trinity was sitting cross-legged on the bed, surrounded by the dogs, who wagged their tails in excitement. Rhea was about to grab her wallet when Trinity raised her hand. “Nope! You’re not paying for a single thing today. I’ve got it all covered.”

Rhea frowned slightly, hesitant. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to—”

“Absolutely sure,” Trinity interrupted, flashing a mischievous grin. “But there is one tiny thing you have to do for me.”

“What’s that?”

Trinity pulled out a black blindfold from her bag, holding it up in front of Rhea with a sly smile. Rhea raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. “Why… the blindfold?”

Trinity, quick on her feet, shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, nothing major. I just want the spa to be a total surprise. It’s a new place, and I know you love surprises.” She winked, hoping to sell the little white lie.

Rhea hesitated, looking at Trinity skeptically. “A blindfold? Really? How about I just put on the blindfold when we get in the car?” Rhea asked.

"Nope... on now." Trinity said smiled.

"Is this really.. really necessary?" Rhea said.

Trinity nodded with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Yup! Come on, trust me. It’ll be fun!”

After a moment of convincing, Rhea finally gave in. “Alright, fine,” she sighed, taking the blindfold from Trinity’s hand. “But this better be good.”

“I promise it will be.” Trinity grinned, clearly proud of herself as she watched Rhea secure the blindfold over her eyes. “Perfect! Now, hold on to me, and I’ll guide you.”

With Rhea’s vision obscured, Trinity led her carefully out of the bedroom. The dogs stayed behind, watching curiously as they left. The party planner and her team, as well as Jey, stood completely still and silent, holding their breath so Rhea wouldn’t hear or suspect anything. The living room was already starting to take shape with decorations and flowers, but not a sound was made as the two women walked past.

Once outside, Trinity quietly closed the front door behind them, letting out a relieved breath. “Alright, let’s get you to the car,” she said, guiding Rhea toward her waiting SUV.

Rhea, still blindfolded, laughed nervously. “You’re really going all out, huh?”

“You have no idea,” Trinity replied, her grin widening as she opened the car door and helped Rhea inside.

As they drove off, Jey peeked through the window, watching them disappear down the road. He grinned, proud that phase one of the plan was successfully complete. The house was now a flurry of activity as the party decorators continued their work. In just a few hours, Rhea would return, completely unaware of the surprise that awaited her.

—

10:49 AM

Rhea relaxed into her chair, still feeling the slight thrill from taking off the blindfold at Escape Wellness Spa. The cozy, soothing ambiance enveloped her as she glanced over at Trinity, who was chatting excitedly with one of the attendants. Trinity’s energy was contagious, and Rhea couldn’t help but smile, finally feeling excited for the pampering session ahead.

Back at the house, Jey was finishing his breakfast he had quickly made for himself when his phone buzzed on the counter. He picked it up to see Kayden’s name flashing across the screen. Surprised, he answered, “Hey, Kayden. You good?”

“Yeah, I just landed,” Kayden replied, her voice a little tired but upbeat. “Where’s Damian? I’ve been texting him, but he hasn’t responded.”

Jey frowned slightly, glancing down the hall. He thought Damian had already left to get Kayden. "Hold on.”

Putting Kayden on hold, Jey made his way down to the guest bedroom, knocking gently on the door. “Yo, Damian!” he called out. “Kayden just landed. You were supposed to go get her.”

No response. Jey knocked again, louder this time. After a moment, he heard some rustling inside. Finally, Damian groggily opened the door, rubbing his face with one hand. “She’s here already?” he muttered, clearly disoriented. “I must’ve slept through my alarm.”

Jey nodded, a smirk forming on his lips. “Yeah, man. Better hurry before Kayden wonders what’s up.”

Damian groaned, quickly grabbing his phone and keys but leaving his duffel bag behind, since he’d be staying for the weekend. “Tell her I’m on my way,” he mumbled as he slipped out the front door.

Shaking his head, Jey chuckled to himself. “Good luck with that,” he muttered under his breath as Damian dashed to his car. Jey told Kayden he was on his way and Kayden agreed while ending the call.

Just as Damian sped off, the doorbell rang again. Jey’s mood brightened as he opened the door to find the private chef and his team standing there, bags of fresh ingredients and equipment in hand.

“Morning!” the head chef greeted warmly.

Jey stepped aside, gesturing for them to come in. “Morning, come on in. Everything’s ready for you in the kitchen.”

The chef gave a professional nod and led his team inside. Jey trailed behind them and made sure to remind the chef, “Hey, just a heads up—Rhea’s drinks need to be non-alcoholic because of her injury.”

The chef acknowledged with a quick, “Got it, we’ll make sure everything is perfect.”

As the chefs began unpacking and preparing for the feast, another knock echoed from the front door. This time, it was Jey’s barber, rolling in his equipment. “You ready, Uce'?” he asked with a grin, setting up his gear in the guest bedroom.

Jey smiled, nodding. “Yeah, let me know when you’re all set. Jon should be here soon too.”

With the party setup progressing smoothly and Rhea none the wiser, Jey felt a wave of excitement wash over him. Everything was falling into place for the big surprise later tonight, and all he had to do now was keep it under wraps a little while longer.

11:57 AM

As Jon exited his car, the morning sun gleamed down on the neighborhood, casting a warm glow. He spotted another vehicle pulling up and smiled when he recognized Dominik, Liv, and Finn. Waving them over, he called out, “Hey, guys!”

Dominik grinned, his hands full of beer cases. “Can you help us with these? I figured we’d need more beer!”

Jon raised an eyebrow. “Why do you need more beer if the catering team has alcohol?”

Finn chimed in from behind Dominik, shrugging. “Catering only has enough for four rounds, and we’re definitely going to need more than that.”

“Alright, I’ve got you,” Jon replied, stepping forward to help with the beer and their luggage as they approached Jey and Rhea’s house.

Jon knocked on the front door, and it swung open to reveal the party planner, clipboard in hand. “Good morning!” she greeted brightly. “Come on in!”

“Thanks!” Jon replied as he stepped inside, glancing around at the decorations taking shape in the living room. “Where’s Jey?”

“In the guest bedroom getting his haircut,” the party planner informed him.

Liv interjected, “Jon, can you ask him if I can use their bathroom to do my makeup?”

“Sure,” Jon said, and as he turned to head down the hall, Dominik added, “And could the barber fit me in for a touch-up on my mullet?”

“Yeah, me too,” Finn chimed in. “Just a quick trim.”

Jon nodded, making his way to the guest bedroom. He knocked gently on the door and entered to find Jey sitting in a chair, a barber’s cape draped over him as the barber worked meticulously on his hair.

“Hey, bro,” Jon said, catching Jey’s eye. “Liv wants to know if she can use your bathroom to do her makeup. Dominik and Finn also want touch-ups for their hair. Think you can fit them in?”

Jey chuckled, looking at the barber, who nodded in agreement. “Yeah, that’s fine. We’ll make room. I can wrap up in a few.”

Jon smiled. “Thanks, man. I’ll let them know.”

After a brief exchange, Jon stepped back out to the living room, where he found Liv, Dominik, and Finn waiting eagerly. “You’re good,” he announced. “Jey said you can use the bathroom, and the barber can fit you guys in too.”

“Awesome!” Liv exclaimed grabbing her makeup case, leading the way to the bathroom. Dominik and Finn followed closely, sharing lighthearted banter about their hairdos as they made their way down the hall.

Jon watched them go, feeling a sense of excitement build in the air. The house was buzzing with anticipation, and with each moment, Rhea’s surprise birthday party was shaping up to be an unforgettable celebration.

Jey’s haircut finished first, and he stood up from the chair, the barber giving him a satisfied nod. “Looking sharp,” the barber said, dusting off Jey’s shoulders. Jon smiled as he settled into the chair, ready for his own cut.

“Hey, Finn, Dom,” Jey called out, turning to the two who were waiting nearby. “Do you guys want to see Rhea’s present?”

Both Finn and Dominik exchanged curious glances before nodding eagerly. “Definitely!” Dominik replied, excitement lighting up his expression.

“Alright, follow me,” Jey instructed, leading them toward the middle hall closet. He opened the door, scanning the shelves until he spotted the little brown box tucked away behind some other boxes. Carefully, he reached up, pushing a few aside to retrieve it, feeling a surge of anticipation.

“I’ve been wanting to give her this for a long time,” Jey said, his voice filled with warmth as he turned back to Finn and Dominik. He opened the box, revealing a stunning Cuban link diamond-encrusted necklace inside. The letter R glimmered in the light, perfectly crafted and adorned with sparkling stones.

“Wow,” Finn breathed, leaning in closer for a better look. “That’s incredible! She’s going to love it.”

Dominik nodded in agreement, his eyes wide with admiration. “You really went all out, man. This is special.”

Jey smiled, his heart swelling with pride and love. “I wanted her to have something that represents her. Something beautiful, just like her.”

He gently picked up the necklace, letting it catch the light as he imagined how it would look around Rhea’s neck. “I can’t wait to see her reaction.”

Just then, Jon, who was finishing up in the barber’s chair, called out, “What’s going on over there? Is it something good?”

“Just the best birthday gift ever!” Jey replied, carefully placing the necklace back in its box. “You guys ready to keep this a secret until later?”

“Absolutely,” Finn said, giving a thumbs-up. Dominik smirked, already imagining Rhea’s surprise.

Jey closed the closet door and rejoined them, feeling a rush of excitement building for the day ahead.

After sharing some laughs and catching up with Dominik and Finn, Jey heard a knock at the door. He excused himself and walked over, opening it to find Damian and Kayden standing there, both with smiles on their faces.

“Hey, you made it!” Jey greeted them, stepping aside to let them in.

Kayden beamed at him, wrapping him in a friendly hug. “I brought Rhea a birthday gift!” she said, holding out a beautifully wrapped box with a shiny bow on top.

“Perfect! I'll just hand it to the party planner,” Jey replied, taking the box and passing it off. “By the way, Liv is doing her makeup in the master bedroom if you want to join her.”

Kayden nodded, her excitement evident. “Yeah, I’ll go catch up with her. I need to get my makeup done too.”

As she headed down the hall, Jey turned back to Damian, who was looking around the house. “Ready to do a walkthrough with the party planner?” Jey asked.

“Absolutely,” Damian replied, following Jey as they found the party planner arranging the final touches for the decorations in the living room.

They walked through the setup together, discussing the placement of the tables, balloons, and the cake that would soon make its appearance. Everything was coming together perfectly; the living room looked festive and inviting, ready to celebrate Rhea’s special day.

“Looks amazing,” Jey said, admiring the effort the planner and her team had put into it. “I just want everything to be perfect for her.”

Damian nodded in agreement. “You’re doing great, man. She’s going to love it.”

Once they finished the walkthrough, Jey glanced at the clock. “Now it’s just a matter of the guests arriving. Joe and Galina should be here around 5, and my parents are coming at 5:30, along with Joseph and Almia.”

“Everything’s set then,” Damian said, looking around with satisfaction. “We’ll make sure she has the best birthday ever.”

With a renewed sense of anticipation, Jey felt his excitement grow. He couldn’t wait to see Rhea’s face light up when she walked in and discovered all the love and effort put into her surprise celebration.

—

4:49 PM

Rhea had no idea, but Trinity was absolutely freaking out inside. She was doing her best to stay calm, but Rhea was taking forever picking out a dress. Despite Trinity gently reminding her that they were on a time crunch, Rhea seemed unbothered, focused on finding the perfect outfit.

“Come on, Rhea,” Trinity urged, her tone light but with an edge of impatience. “Jon made last-minute dinner reservations for the four of us, and we need to hurry, plus we have to get Jey.”

Rhea huffed, frustrated as she sifted through the racks. “I just want to find something cute. Everything here is just… blah.”

Trinity internally rolled her eyes, praying for a miracle. She had to keep the lie going and make sure they got back in time for the surprise party, but at this rate, she feared they’d be late.

Suddenly, Rhea stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes locking onto something across the store. “Wait… this is it,” she said softly.

Trinity followed her gaze and saw the dress. It was a stunning off-the-shoulder lavender midi dress with long sleeves, delicately covered in mesh that shimmered as if sprinkled with glitter. It was perfect, and Trinity wasted no time rushing her.

“Try it on! I’ll go find some heels,” she said, not wanting to lose another minute. Rhea nodded, heading towards the fitting rooms while Trinity dashed off to the shoe section, determined to get the whole outfit together quickly.

As she was browsing for the perfect pair of heels, her phone rang. It was Jon. Trinity sighed, picking up the call.

“Is she ready yet?” Jon asked, sounding a bit frustrated. “She’s supposed to be on her way back by now!”

“I know, I know! She’s trying on a dress. Calm down,” Trinity snapped, feeling her own nerves getting the best of her.

Jon scolded her. “Trin, we’re running out of time! You were supposed to have her out of there by now.”

“Will you shut up?” she hissed into the phone, glancing around to make sure no one overheard her. “We’ll be there in just a moment. I’ve got this.” With that, she hung up on him before he could say anything else.

A second later, her phone rang again. Trinity, now beyond annoyed, picked it up with a sharp, “What?”

Jon’s voice was soft this time. “You forgot to say I love you.”

Trinity groaned, a smile breaking through her frustration. “I love you, now leave me alone. I’m getting the damn heels.”

She hung up again, quickly grabbing a pair of black heels that perfectly matched the dress, then hurried back to check on Rhea, hoping they could finally get out of there before the surprise was ruined.

Rhea stood in front of the mirror, her eyes wide with delight as she admired the off-shoulder lavender dress paired with the black heels. The mesh glitter effect shimmered under the store’s lights, and she couldn’t help but smile at how perfect it looked. She turned to Trinity, who was already rushing towards her, gathering Rhea’s discarded street clothes into a bundle.

“No time to change!” Trinity declared, grabbing Rhea’s hand and practically dragging her towards the register.

“Wait! I need to—” Rhea started, but Trinity wasn’t having it. She yanked Rhea forward with a firm but playful determination.

“Just go! We’re in a rush!” Trinity insisted, moving so fast Rhea barely had time to hold up the dress box to scan the barcode at the register. The cashier processed the empty shoe box without a second thought as Trinity swiftly paid for everything, barely pausing to catch her breath.

As they bolted out of the store, Rhea protested, “I can’t run in heels!”

Trinity was already ahead of her, pulling her along. “Yes, you can! I’ve seen you in platforms!” she called back, practically jogging through the parking lot.

“That’s not the same thing!” Rhea shot back, struggling to keep pace as they finally reached Trinity’s Escalade.

Without missing a beat, Trinity handed Rhea the blindfold again. Rhea frowned, confused. “Why do I need this now?”

Thinking fast, Trinity lied through her teeth. “Jey bought an outfit too, and he wants to surprise you with it when we get in the car. You know how he is with surprises.”

Rhea rolled her eyes but went along with it, slipping the blindfold on again. “This better be good.”

Trinity’s heart raced as she climbed into the driver’s seat and peeled out of the parking lot, glancing nervously at the clock. It was already 5:41. Crap, I’m late, she thought, mentally cursing the time they spent in the store. She weaved through traffic, pushing the speed limit as they raced back toward Jey and Rhea’s house in Pensacola.

Finally, they pulled up to the driveway. Trinity glanced at the time again and took a deep breath. 5:51… I can still save this. She quickly reached into the back seat, pulling out her own dress and heels. Without any shame or hesitation, she started undressing right there in the car.

Rhea, still blindfolded, heard the rustling of clothes. “What are you doing?” she asked, bewildered.

“Don’t speak! Don’t look!” Trinity yelled as she hopped into her cream dress and slipped into her heels with the speed of someone truly desperate to make it on time.

Rhea’s voice was laced with suspicion now. “I’m seriously questioning why I still have this blindfold on.”

Ignoring her, Trinity bolted out of the car and sprinted across the lawn to the passenger side. Just then, the front door of the house cracked open, and Liv peeked out. She caught sight of Trinity and waved before quickly ducking back inside to alert everyone that the birthday girl was here.

Rhea, still sitting in the car and feeling more confused than ever, sighed. “Can I at least take this thing off to go pee?”

Trinity, now back at the passenger door and pulling Rhea out, shook her head. “Nope! You’re almost there!”

Leading her carefully up the driveway, Trinity guided Rhea to the front door, trying to suppress her excitement. She gently opened it and led Rhea inside. Rhea hesitated, sensing the shift in the atmosphere and smell of lavender.

“Where are we?” Rhea asked, her voice uncertain.

Trinity quickly undid the blindfold, and as Rhea blinked, adjusting to the sudden burst of light, she was greeted by a chorus of voices.

“Surprise!”

Rhea’s eyes widened as she took in the scene in front of her—a room filled with her closest friends and family, all smiling and cheering, the decorations, the food, the music. Her jaw dropped in shock as she finally realized what was going on. The birthday surprise had worked perfectly.

Jey stepped forward, dressed sharply in a lavender suit jacket with a white collar shirt, dark suit pants, and crisp white Nikes, the colors perfectly chosen to fit the event’s theme. He approached Rhea, his smile soft and full of affection, and leaned in to kiss her gently on the forehead. “Happy Birthday, Button Nose,” he whispered, his nickname for her sounding even sweeter in the warmth of the evening.

Rhea, feeling a wave of overwhelming joy, asked, “Did you do all this?” Her eyes scanned the room, her voice full of disbelief as she took in the sheer amount of love and thought put into the event. Everything—down to the smallest details—was lavender. It was breathtaking.

Jey grinned, his dimple appearing as he shrugged playfully. “I had a little help,” he confessed, nodding toward their friends and family who were all gathered and sharing in her special day.

As Rhea looked around, she noticed the beautiful way everyone had incorporated lavender into their outfits. From the lavender gems in Trinity’s cream dress to the soft designs woven into Liv’s, Damian’s lavender pocket square to his suit, Dominik’s lavender bow tie that he added to his all black suit, and Kayden’s lavender-dyed hair, Joe’s purple tie, Finn's lavender colored dress shirt, everyone had gone the extra mile to make it all coordinated. The decorations, too, reflected the theme with perfection. Lavender flowers filled the vases, balloons floated lazily in lavender and white, and the bold banner overhead proclaimed: “Twenty Fucking Ate” in glittering lavender letters. It was more than she ever expected, and it left her speechless.

Then, Jey’s parents, Solofa and Talisua, approached her with warm smiles and a sense of pride in their eyes. They, too, were dressed in matching lavender and white, looking elegant and in harmony with the party’s theme. Talisua held a delicate lavender sei, a traditional Samoan flower ornament, and she gently placed it on Rhea’s ear. With practiced grace, she pinned it securely to Rhea’s hair, the gesture carrying both honor and deep affection.

Next, Solofa stepped forward, holding a beautifully crafted white lei with delicate lavender accents. He placed the lei over Jey’s shoulders, signifying both blessing and unity. Solofa then spoke, his voice full of wisdom and pride, “ʻO le fogavaʻa e tasi…”

Talisua completed the phrase without hesitation, “E so’o le fau i le fau.”

Jey looked at Rhea, translating the powerful words for her. “One family… strength lies in our unity.”

Rhea’s heart swelled with emotion as the meaning of their words sunk in. The weight of being fully accepted into their family, their culture, and their traditions made her fight back the tears that were threatening to fall. She blinked rapidly, her heart full of gratitude, overwhelmed by the love and unity she was being offered.

The room erupted in applause as everyone celebrated the beautiful moment. Jey leaned in and kissed Rhea once more, sealing the moment with a promise of love and loyalty. Then, turning to face their guests, he spoke up with a smile. “Now let’s all sit and eat,” he announced, gesturing toward the tables where place cards had been meticulously laid out.

Everyone began to move toward their seats, searching for their name cards on the beautifully set tables. Rhea and Jey took their seats next to each other at the head of one of the tables, the sense of unity and love making it's presence known in the air.

As everyone settled in, the chef, who had been waiting in the background, stepped forward with a friendly smile. He introduced himself and then gestured to his servers, who began moving around the tables, taking drink orders. “You have the option of either a Mocktail or a Cocktail,” the chef explained, making sure everyone knew there were options for all tastes. “And we’ll also be bringing out the appetizers shortly.”

As the servers collected the menus and started taking orders, the chef took a moment to explain the full menu to everyone, ensuring the guests knew there was more than enough food to go around. “If anyone would like seconds, please don’t hesitate to ask,” he added with a warm smile, making sure everyone felt at ease.

The anticipation built as Rhea leaned into Jey, her heart still racing from all the excitement and surprises. She couldn’t help but smile, knowing this day was going to be one she would cherish forever. The love surrounding her, the care put into every detail of the celebration—it was all more than she could have ever imagined. And with Jey by her side, she knew this was just the beginning of something even more beautiful.

At Jey’s table, a close-knit group of family and loved ones gathered around, filling the space with warmth and familiarity. Jey and Rhea sat side by side, his hand resting lightly on hers. Across from them were his parents, Solofa and Talisua, both smiling with pride. Next to them sat Jon and Trinity, the latter still catching her breath from the day’s antics. Joseph and his wife completed the table, their easy laughter mixing with the low hum of conversation.

At the other table, the vibe was equally lighthearted. Kayden and Damian sat together, their heads bent close as they whispered and smiled. Finn, Dominik, and Liv chatted with Joe and his wife, all sharing stories and jokes. The room felt alive with love, laughter, and the kind of closeness only family can create.

Servers moved effortlessly between the tables, delivering an assortment of appetizers that looked almost too perfect to eat. Plates of delicately arranged cheese, crackers, olives, and charcuterie were placed in the center, inviting everyone to dig in as drinks were served. Soft, ambient music floated through the living and dining rooms, adding to the peaceful atmosphere of the evening.

As the music played, Rhea leaned forward and reached for some cheese and crackers, her fingers hovering over the spread as she made her selection. Jey, who had been watching her with a smirk, leaned closer and asked, “Do you like it?”

Rhea looked at him with a playful glint in her eyes and replied, “I haven’t even bitten the cracker yet.” She teased, raising an eyebrow.

Jey shook his head and chuckled, nudging her gently. “No, I mean the party, Dumbo…” His voice was soft, full of affection.

Rhea giggled at his teasing tone and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, her laughter light and infectious. “Yes, my old man,” she whispered, her eyes sparkling as she took in the scene around them.

The moment felt perfect—a pause in the chaos of life where everything was simple and full of love. The guests were happy, the food and drinks were flowing, and the soft music made everything feel intimate and connected. Jey squeezed Rhea’s hand under the table, and she squeezed it back, both of them fully present in this moment they had created together.

After dinner, as the servers finished clearing away the plates and the kitchen buzzed with the quiet sounds of cleanup, Jey glanced over at Damian. Their silent exchange spoke volumes, and Damian gave a nod, understanding exactly what time it was. He excused himself from the table, heading toward the fridge with a sense of purpose.

Opening the fridge door, Damian carefully pulled out the cake—a masterpiece adorned with delicate lavender accents that matched the evening’s theme. He reached into the kitchen drawer, finding the hidden number candles Jey had brought earlier: two bold numbers, a “2” and an “8”. With a swift motion, Damian placed the candles on top of the cake, their slight flicker casting a warm glow over the room as he lit them.

Holding the cake steady with both hands, he began making his way back to the table, the soft glow of the candles catching everyone’s attention. In an instant, the entire room broke into song, their voices harmonizing as they sang Happy Birthday to Rhea.

Rhea’s face lit up, her smile stretching ear to ear as she took in the beautiful cake, the love surrounding her intoxicating. Damian gently set the cake down in front of her, the flickering candles casting a soft glow on her face as she stood up. Liv and Dominik were quick to capture the moment, their phones held up to record as everyone sang, their voices filling the room with joy.

As the song came to an end, Rhea closed her eyes for a moment, silently making a wish before blowing out the candles in one smooth breath. The room erupted in cheers and applause, everyone clapping and celebrating the birthday girl.

Rhea opened her eyes and looked around at her family and friends, her heart full, overwhelmed with gratitude and happiness. This was more than just a birthday—it was a moment of pure love, surrounded by the people who mattered most to her. Jey wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close as everyone continued to celebrate, the atmosphere charged with joy and warmth.

“Now, who’s ready for cake?” Damian grinned as he reached for the knife, ready to slice into the beautiful creation in front of them.

—

The evening air in Pensacola was warm and filled with the soft sounds of laughter, conversation, and music. The remnants of the birthday party for Rhea still lingered—half eaten cake and lavender decorations. It had been a perfect night, a celebration that had brought everyone together in a way that made Rhea feel deeply loved and appreciated. But now, as the party began to pick up, there was a lingering sense of something else—a question she hadn’t yet answered.

After thanking Jey’s parents, Solofa and Talisua, for coming, Rhea and Jey exchanged hugs with them at the front door. Solofa held a plate of leftovers and cake in his hands and joked, “These are going to be the best tomorrow.” Rhea and Jey laughed along with him. The warm moment filled the air with a sense of family.

Once Solofa and Talisua were gone, Rhea and Jey turned back to the backyard, where the rest of their friends were still hanging out. Damian had taken control of the music, blasting Bad Bunny through the large speakers set up in the yard. The lights strung across the patio cast a soft glow, illuminating everyone who was still having a great time.

Joe and Joseph were playing a competitive game of beer pong at the long table they had set up, while Dominik and Jon stood off to the side, arguing animatedly about who was the better heel in wrestling. The banter between them was lighthearted but passionate, their hands flying as they made their points.

At the patio furniture, Finn and Liv sat close together, deep in conversation about the direction the Judgment Day storyline was taking. Kayden, Trinity, Almia, and Galina had gathered by the outdoor bar, taking shots and laughing at inside jokes that made them all double over in giggles.

Rhea and Jey stepped into the backyard, taking it all in. It was moments like these that reminded Rhea how grateful she was for the people in her life. As Jey wandered over to Damian, clearly ready to make another request to change the music, Rhea made her way to where Liv and Finn were sitting.

Liv smiled wide when she saw Rhea approach. “Hey, birthday girl! You having a good time?”

Rhea grinned, sitting down next to her friends. “Yeah, I am. It’s been perfect.”

Liv leaned in a little closer, lowering her voice. “So… when are you coming back?” she asked, her tone laced with curiosity. She didn’t push too hard, but Rhea could sense the eagerness in her voice.

The question hung in the air for a moment as Rhea considered how to respond. It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought about it—returning to the ring had been on her mind constantly. But things were complicated now, more than they had ever been. She glanced over at Jey, who was now laughing with Damian despite his failed attempt to get the music changed.

“I need to check with the doctor,” Rhea said finally, her voice steady but thoughtful. “I’ve been thinking about it, but I don’t want to rush back. After everything that’s happened…” She trailed off for a moment, her thoughts drifting back to the hypoxic brain injury she had suffered. The physical and emotional toll of her experiences weighed heavily on her mind. Especially the dream about her unborn daughter.. one she had not yet had the courage to speak with Jey about.

Liv’s expression softened, and she reached over, placing her hand on Rhea’s. “You don’t have to rush anything. We miss you, but you’ve got to take care of yourself first.”

Rhea nodded, appreciating Liv’s understanding. “I just worry… what if this happens again? What if I’m not the same? Maybe it’s time to consider… retirement.” The word tasted bitter on her tongue, the finality of it sending a chill down her spine.

Finn frowned, immediately sensing the gravity of Rhea’s statement. “What? No way. You can’t be serious!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with concern. “You’ve worked too hard to let one injury dictate your future.”

“I know, but it’s different now, Finn,” Rhea said, her voice low. “What if I can’t compete at the level I used to? What if I’m risking more than just my career?” The thought of stepping away from the ring made her stomach twist, but the fear of further injury lingered at the back of her mind.

Liv leaned forward, her eyes searching Rhea’s face. “You’re one of the strongest wrestlers I know. You’ve faced challenges before and come back stronger. This is just another hurdle, not the end of the race.”

“But what if I’m not strong enough this time?” Rhea asked, the vulnerability creeping into her tone. “What if I’m not able to bounce back like I always have?”

“Rhea,” Finn interjected, his voice firm but gentle. “You’re not alone in this. We’re all here for you. And if you decide to come back, we’ll be right there beside you, ready to support you. But retiring? That’s not the answer. Not yet.”

Rhea looked between her friends, feeling the warmth of their support wash over her. She didn’t want to let them down, and she didn’t want to give up on herself either. But the uncertainty of her future loomed over her, like a dark cloud that wouldn’t dissipate.

As they sat in silence for a brief moment, the conversation around them buzzed with life. Jon and Dominik’s debate was growing more animated, with Joe and Joseph shouting encouragement from the beer pong table. Trinity was now doubled over in laughter with Kayden, clearly having had one too many shots.

Jey returned to Rhea’s side, dropping into the seat next to her with a dramatic sigh. “Damian’s not budging on the music,” he groaned, leaning back in his chair. “Bad Bunny’s here to stay.”

Rhea laughed softly, resting her head on his shoulder. “I don’t mind it,” she teased.

Jey looked over at her, his arm coming around her shoulders as they watched the party carry on. “You good?” he asked quietly.

Rhea looked up at him, her heart swelling with affection. “Yeah, I’m good. Just… figuring things out.” She glanced back at Finn and Liv, who were watching her intently.

“You know I’m not trying to pressure you, right?” Liv said gently, her voice filled with concern. “We just want to see you back where you belong. With Raquel returning we have so much shit lined up.”

Rhea nodded, feeling the weight of their support. “I know, and I appreciate it. It just feels like such a big decision, one that could change everything.”

Jey squeezed her shoulder. “No rush, Button Nose. We’ve got all the time in the world. Take it day by day.”

As the music played and the warmth of the evening surrounded them, Rhea knew he was right. She didn’t have to have all the answers right now. She just had to be present, take things one step at a time, and trust that everything else would fall into place. The thought of retirement lingered, but for now, she chose to focus on the joy around her, the laughter, and the love that filled the backyard—a reminder that she was never alone in this journey.

12:58 AM

Jey took another shot, slamming the glass down as he laughed with Jon, Joseph, and Joe. The world around him started to blur, his vision impaired as he became increasingly inebriated, reveling in the carefree atmosphere. The laughter and camaraderie of his brothers and cousin filled the air, but he could also hear the energetic shouts from Damian, Liv, Kayden, Finn, and Dominik, who were locked in an intense game of Giant Uno.

As Harley Quinn by Fuerza Regida played, Rhea found herself dancing with Almia and Galina, the three women united in their newfound friendship. They had bonded over one common interest: their mutual disdain for Takecia. Rhea felt a sense of liberation as they danced, celebrating her birthday and the night without a care in the world.

“Can you believe she barred Jey from visiting us just because he didn't get paid as much as Joe?” Almia said, rolling her eyes dramatically.

“I know, right?” Galina added. “And don’t even get me started on how she made a scene at Joseph and Almia’s wedding! She thought Jey was flirting with a server just because the girl offered him more champagne. I mean, come on!”

“Honestly, no drama at the wedding, and she’s been nothing but trouble since that night,” Almia said with a laugh, tossing her hair back. Rhea couldn’t care less about Takecia; tonight was all about her. The laughter, the music, and the light from the pool created a magical atmosphere that felt electric.

Rhea moved to the beat, the music coursing through her veins. She felt free, the worries of the world slipping away with each step. As she danced, she noticed Jey bobbing his head, watching her with an intensity that made her heart race. There was something mesmerizing about the way he looked at her, completely captivated by her every move.

When the song ended, the familiar intro of “Rich Baby Daddy” featuring SZA and Sexyy Red by Drake began to play. Galina seized the moment and pulled Joe to the dance floor, claiming it was their song. Rhea felt a brief moment of solitude as she watched them, but it was quickly interrupted when Jey rushed over.

“Let me be your Rich Baby Daddy?” he slurred playfully, pulling her close with a tipsy grin. Rhea burst out laughing, unable to contain the joy that bubbled up inside her.

“Of course, you can!” she replied, her smile wide and genuine. Jey twirled her around, and Rhea felt the warmth of his body against hers as they danced together. She let herself get lost in the moment, the music weaving a spell around them.

As they moved to the rhythm, Jey leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear. “You look beautiful tonight, you know that?”

Rhea felt her cheeks flush at his words, a mixture of embarrassment and giddiness filling her. “Thanks, but I think you might just be seeing double right now.”

“Maybe,” he said, winking at her, “but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re stunning.”

They continued to dance, Jey leading her with confidence. With each beat, Rhea could feel the connection between them grow stronger, a shared understanding that surpassed words. The laughter and the music blended seamlessly, making everything else fade into the background. In that moment, all that mattered was the two of them, lost in their little world.

As the chorus of the song hit, Jey pulled her closer, their faces inches apart. Rhea could feel her heart racing, and for a brief second, she wondered if they were on the brink of something more. The electricity in the air was devine, and she didn’t want it to end.

“Happy birthday, Rhea,” Jey said softly, his voice sincere. “I’m so glad to be here with you.”

“Me too, Jey. Thank you for everything,” she replied with a smile on her.

As the smooth notes of “Amor” by Emmanuel Cortes began to fill the backyard, Damian and Dominik paused their intense Giant Uno game, their voices intertwining as they belted out the romantic Spanish lyrics. Rhea, caught up in the moment, turned to Jey with a sparkle in her eye.

“Listen to the words,” she urged, swaying gently to the rhythm.

Jey furrowed his brow, a hint of confusion on his face. “I don’t know Spanish.”

Rhea grinned, her enthusiasm infectious. “Don’t worry, I’ll translate.” As the singer continued, Rhea began to softly repeat the lyrics in English, her voice blending with the melody.

“Baby, you’re what I want

When I see your smile

And it’s what makes me weak

I want to take you on a date…”

Jey chuckled, his eyes widening with interest. “When did you learn Spanish?”

She laughed, glancing over at the table where Damian and Dominik were now dramatically singing to each other, lost in their own world. “From those two bozos,” she replied, gesturing with her head.

Rhea continued to sway, her body moving in time with the music.

“I want to love you,

I want to teach you love and more,

And you are perfect,

Your beautiful body that looks so pretty,

And those little eyes, say no more,

Say no more.”

Liv, noticing the tender moment between Jey and Rhea, quickly snapped a photo, capturing the intimacy that seemed to envelop them. She also turned her camera toward Damian and Dominik, who were now completely absorbed in their own musical performance. Meanwhile, Kayden began recording the interactions, determined to preserve the joy of the night.

As the music swirled around them, Jey felt an undeniable pull toward Rhea. It was the same magnetic attraction that had drawn them together in the first place. With the sounds of laughter and music as a backdrop, Jey cupped Rhea’s face in his hands, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

Before she could say another word, Jey leaned in and kissed her deeply. Rhea melted into the kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck as she felt the world around them fade away. It was as if time had stopped, and in that moment, nothing else mattered but the two of them.

The kiss deepened, filled with the unspoken connection they shared, a blend of passion, love, and a promise of something more. Rhea could feel the warmth radiating from Jey, enveloping her in a cocoon of happiness. The playful chaos of the party faded into the background, leaving just the two of them in their own little universe.

As they finally pulled away, breathless and smiling, Rhea looked into Jey’s eyes and saw a reflection of everything she felt—excitement, tenderness, and a hint of mischief. “You know,” she teased, “if you keep kissing me like that, I might just want to learn more Spanish.”

Jey laughed, his playful spirit returning. “I might need a translator then,” he quipped, causing Rhea to giggle.

Just then, a loud cheer erupted from the group, snapping them back to reality. Damian and Dominik had finished their duet, and the rest of the crew was applauding their over-the-top performance. Rhea and Jey exchanged a knowing smile, the bond between them deepening even further amid the laughter and joy of the celebration.

As the song continued to play, Rhea felt a wave of gratitude wash over her. This was what she had always wanted: to be surrounded by loved ones, to share moments of laughter and joy, and to be with Jey, the man who made her heart race. She knew that whatever the future held, they would face it together, one dance and one kiss at a time.

—

5:49 AM

Rhea bid goodnight to Almia and Joseph, a sense of warmth filling her heart from the night’s festivities. Once again, she offered them a place to stay, but Almia shook her head, a playful grin on her face. “It looks like you’ve got your hands full already.”

Rhea turned and surveyed the living room scene. Jon and Trinity were passed out in the second guest bedroom, clearly exhausted from the night’s revelry. On the couch, Joe and Galina were cuddled up on one side, their soft whispers fading into gentle snores. Finn occupied the middle, his arms sprawled out carelessly, while Dom was curled up on the love seat, a content smile gracing his face. Damian, too, was out cold, slumped against the breakfast bar, looking as if he’d fallen victim to the party’s late hours.

Liv and Kayden were already nestled in the first guest bedroom, their soft murmurs of conversation having turned into peaceful breaths. Rhea shook her head, laughing softly. “They’re right,” she murmured to herself, knowing that her offer had been in vain.

As Almia gathered her things, she pulled out her phone and asked for Rhea’s number. “Text me when you open your presents!” she called cheerfully. Rhea promised she would, wishing them a safe ride home. After hugging her one last time, Almia and Joseph departed in their Uber, leaving Rhea alone with the lingering sounds of the party echoing in her mind.

Rhea locked the door, her heart feeling light yet heavy with the day’s excitement. She tiptoed through the living room, careful not to disturb the sleeping wrestlers around her. The only one awake was Galina, who offered her a sleepy smile as Rhea passed by. Rhea returned the smile before moving to turn off the music, silencing the upbeat tunes that had accompanied the night’s festivities.

With the lights dimmed and the house quiet, Rhea made her way to the master bedroom. She opened the door to find Jey sprawled across the bed, utterly unconscious. A fond smile crept onto her face as she rolled her eyes. She knew he had passed out the moment he said he was going to take off his shoes—his telltale sign that sleep was imminent.

After slipping out of her party attire, Rhea threw her hair into a messy bun and removed her makeup, the weight of the day gradually lifting from her shoulders. She hopped into the shower, allowing the warm water to cascade over her, washing away the remnants of the long day. The steam enveloped her, providing a soothing escape as she let her mind drift.

Once she finished her shower, Rhea toweled off and made her way back to the bedroom. She found Jey still sprawled out, taking up more than his fair share of the bed. With a gentle nudge, she managed to push him over to one side, making just enough room for herself.

As she started to settle in, she noticed Jey mumble something incoherent. With a quick laugh, she started to remove his pants, thinking it might be a good idea for him to be more comfortable. Suddenly, Jey stirred, his voice raspy from sleep. “I usually do that…” he said, half-asleep, startling Rhea.

She jumped back, wide-eyed, as Jey cracked one eye open, a smirk forming on his lips. “What are you doing?”

“Just trying to help you out, sleeping beauty,” Rhea shot back, unable to hide her smile. She felt a warmth spread through her, his sleepy demeanor making him look even more endearing.

“Help me out, huh?” Jey chuckled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “What time is it?”

“Late enough that you should be sleeping,” Rhea replied, trying to maintain her composure, but the playful banter was too tempting.

“Is that so?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, he looked at the clock and said “God damn..” as the clock read 6:14 AM. He pulled off his shirt and looked at Rhea, who was dressed in an oversized T shirt and nothing else. “Well what’s a guy gotta do to get some attention around here?” He propped himself up on one elbow, his playful gaze locking onto hers.

Rhea rolled her eyes, feeling the playful tension crackle in the air. “You’re lucky I’m tired, or I’d show you what you could get,” she teased, leaning closer.

Jey chuckled again, that familiar sparkle in his eyes. “You have no idea how much I’d like to see that,” he replied, a mock-serious tone in his voice.

Rhea couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re ridiculous. Just go to sleep. It is way too late for any bump bump…”

As she settled in next to him, the room fell into a comfortable silence. The chaos of the day melted away, replaced by the warmth of Jey’s presence. Rhea felt herself drifting off, the steady sound of Jey’s breathing lulling her into a peaceful sleep, the lingering joy of the night still dancing in her heart.

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medusamagic · 1 year ago

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So you want to know more about Big Barda

As Tumblr's resident expert on all things Barda, and as Kelly Thompson's Birds of Prey run brings far more attention to the character, I figured it was high time someone stepped in and gave the tumblr world a primer on DC's biggest and boldest heroine.

The Basics:

Introduced in Mister Miracle #4 by Jack Kirby, Big Barda was once the leader of Apokolips' premier death squad, the Female Furies. Trained from birth for a life of violence by Granny Goodness, Barda spent the first 250 years of her life as a living weapon. This all changed when she met Scott Free, a gentle Parademon-in-training with a mysterious past and a knack for escapes. Eventually, she and Scott both escaped to Earth, where they fell in love with both the Earth and each other. She's a lover, she's a fighter, she's a Pokémon card expert, but most of all, SHE BIG.

Barda's signature defining attribute is her raw strength. Her raw muscle allows her to keep up with heavy hitters like Wonder Woman. This isn't to suggest that she's a simple-minded brute, however-- Barda has centuries of military experience under her belt as leader of the Female Furies. She's mastered multiple weapons, including spears, swords, and her signature Mega-Rod.

Below are some reading recommendations for anyone interested in Big Barda:

Essential Runs:

Mister Miracle Vol. 1 #4-18 by Jack Kirby (1971-1974)

This was the run that introduced the world to Big Barda, as well as the Female Furies. If you want to know the basics of Barda, there's no better place to start. This run is collected in a trade, as well as a part in The Fourth World Omnibus Vol. 1.

(NOTE: Even though Barda doesn't appear until issue #4, I suggest you start with Issue #1. It'll help you get acquainted with the rest of the mythos.)

Justice League International #14-24 by Keith Giffen and J.M. DeMatteis (1988-1989)

Big Barda was on the JLI! She plays off the other characters as well as ever, and a lot of what's great about her in Jack Kirby's original run is still here! Definitely check this one out if you want to see her in another team setting. This has been collected in this omnibus.

(NOTE: Once again, I recommend you start from issue #1.)

Popular Runs:

Mister Miracle Vol. 4 #1-12 by Tom King and Mitch Gerads (2017-2018)

Yeah, I know.

Listen, Tom King is a writer with... idiosyncrasies to put it nicely. The characters in the periphery of his stories tend to act really out of character, and his dialogue can be clunky at times. That being said, The Scott/Barda dynamic in this book is excellent, and this book has some of the best art that the Fourth World has seen since the 80s. The series has been collected in a trade.

(NOTE: Did you know that the CIA has over 2003 files on Tom King? Look up "Tom King CIA 2003" for more info!)

Mister Miracle: The Great Escape by Varian Johnson and Daniel Isles (2022)

If you're at all interested in the idea of a Young Adult reimagining of Mister Miracle and Big Barda's origin story with an all-black cast, this book was made for you. It's a bit heavy on the YA tropes, but the Scott/Barda dynamic is really solid. It was released as a standalone graphic novel.

Birds of Prey Vol. 5 #1-??? by Kelly Thompson and Leonardo Romero (2023-)

Admit it, this is the reason you're here. The Cassandra Cain & Big Barda is so instantly iconic, I'm surprised no writer has paired them up sooner. It also helps that this book has the single best Barda look since Jack Kirby's original run. Plus, she gets to throw down with Wonder Woman! What's not to love? This run is still ongoing, but the first 6 issues should be getting a trade pretty soon.

(NOTE: I started writing this before BOP #8 dropped, I had no idea about that thing that happens in the newest issue.)

Stories to Avoid:

Action Comics #592-593 by John Byrne (1987)

This is not a comic book-- it's an infohazard designed to cause pain and suffering to anyone who knows of its existence. Its premise is vile and disrespectful on the surface, and it becomes more insidious when you learn the context of its creation. This pair of issues is profoundly evil, rivaling even Avengers #200 in terms of loathsomeness.

For those who dare to investigate this, Content Warnings for rape, mind control, and human trafficking.

Anyway, let's end on something a bit lighter, shall we?

Remember that Mister Miracle YA graphic novel I mentioned earlier? Barda is getting a graphic novel of her own this summer! It's not out at the time of writing, but the preview pages look promising!

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed that introduction to one of my favorite superheroes ever. Please get back to me on this, I have no one else to talk to about Fourth World stuff.

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oneslimybastard · 1 year ago

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Ghetsis facts:

>At least two grunts are scared of him (musharna being able to spook them off with visions of being scolded by Ghetsis)

>His speeches does in fact convince some people to release their pokémon or at least second-guess their view on the trainer-pokémon relationship

>Tells the grunts to give Bianca's Munna back

>Persuasive enough to essentially wiggle some of his Guys out of arrest in Driftveil, even if Clay does it reluctantly

>Knows Reshiram and Zekrom would not fuck with him so he picks up a miracle child from the forest to do it for him instead. Raises said child kind of like his own but also kind of not, there's a deliberate distance put between them

>Did make this wonderchild who can speak to pokémon and are clearly very empathetic towards them hang out with pokémon who had been mistreated for the purpose of instilling an ideology in him.

>Randomly has 3 ninjas who are just ride or die until the end of time for some reason

>Lots of team plasma is ride or die for him actually, otherwise Neo Team Plasma wouldn't have been a thing

>He rubs the death of Alder's partner pokémon in the mans face. All cheeky beaky like. Because he can.

>He will tell the teenager his Adopted I Swear Not Related Promise son is fixated on as a rival all about how he basically groomed say son into doing all of this dragon bullshit while having them cornered on a bridge. Then just casually walks off. His ninjas are there too.

>Will also happily tell said teenager they probably aren't that special or chosen or whatever, lol lmao, seems like ur dragon haven't woken up yet, dw maybe it will, lol.

>Cannot take an L to save his fucking life. Will lash out at everything and everyone around him and build a stupid airship with a stupid laser powered by the crinkly old grandpa of the dragon trio and do a terrorism before taking an L

>Refers to himself as being PERFECT while inhaling massive amounts of copium

>Needs a cane in bw2 and is only ever seen using one of his hands, so probably physically disabled to some degree

>Strong enough to jam the butt of that cane into the solid frozen earth of a cave. Probably just kind of a visual metaphor for him being threatening but also Hear Me Out What If He's Fucking Built-

>N is ride or die for him enough to still try and get through to him during the bw2 climax despite having been utilized as a silly little pawn yet again. This does not work, because as previously mentioned, man just cannot take that L

>When faced with literally no other option but to take an L, he passes out. His ninja squad punctuates this with him probably not being a threat anymore.

Ghetsis interpertation:

I think all of these things weave together into just a very fascinating person when you look at them a little deeper. Someone who's clearly charismatic enough to acquire that much loyalty, love, and fear — but also not equipped to handle the shame of failure in the god damn slightest. When threatened he devolves from a calculated cult leader above it all to a snarling animal fighting for its life, because he's probably rotted away behind a mask of perfectionism for years rather than done any significant growth as a person. He's clearly intelligent, probably highly emotionally intelligent because if he wasn't he wouldn't be able to pull this shit, but all of that shatters and breaks and splinters with one (1) crucial failure. He tries to recuperate but can't, the survival instinct is breathing down his neck because to him the shame of being a human like the rest of them rather than the perfect ideal he's been forging is scarier than anything that could actually physically kill him. He blames N, he blames MC, Colress, just about anyone and anything that doesn't end up pointing back to his own shortcomings.

And still! N probably loves him! And it's probably genuine! He wants to connect with him and breach that gap and give him ibuprofen because even if he's shown himself to be cringe, that's still his father, which is something he values enough to try and hold on to. And the ninja guys remain ride or die, so there's clearly something to him other than schemes and trickery, something genuine and beautiful that might not in practice be worth fighting for but it sure feels like it.

A beautiful man who's warped himself into a demon because he couldn't stand his own humanity because he's probably autistic and traumatized from his undefined childhood, and when he's beat down, rather than taking that L at long last, he'll curl up in his little cage, continue to snarl and tell himself over and over that this is what he is. What he will always be. He couldn't become god so he resigns to dying a devil. Because even still, that is preferable to him over taking that L, admitting to himself he is just a little guy like other little guys with problems he couldn't cope with, and that it caused hurt and destruction.

Devils don't feel regret or shame, humans do. And he'd have a loooot of that to chug through if he decided to face it. So he won't.

which is just very sexy and milfy and babygirl of him i think. this is my "why ghetsis is like so sexy actually" manifesto, without even tapping into the juice that is him going "nuh-uh" over his own dang disabilities but that too ties into how he can't cope with his own imperfect humanity so u know. Also that he's just kinda sassy and petty. Amazing. 10/10 best written character not in the games but in my brain.

#snail rant #long post #ghetsis is canonically hot and this is just true #pokemon black and white #ghetsis harmonia gropius #ghetsis #i guess this is meta but actually its just me grabbing you by the throat and preaching the gospel of why this old man makes me go BARK BARK

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alex31624 · 11 months ago

Note

Those were really good Football team headcanons 👏 I think each one you mentioned fit great with that sports team.

Could you please share more headcanons about the other characters’ fav teams 👀?

Oh, I love this.

Ok, I think not all the characters would be a football fans. So, if is not in this list, they don't support any team, or don't care about the sport.

Webby - Liverpool

It was hard for Webby, her grandma is an Aston Villa fan, her hero is a Celtic fan. Which team should she support?

What moves Webby is love, dedication, passion. And it was the passion the Liverpool fans show what make her a fan herself.

It was a secret, until she found out Donald is also a Liverpool fan. Just another thing to bond about for them.

Huey - All of them

Huey loves his family and friends, so he can't take sides. He supports all the teams, depending on the circumstances.

Dewey - Manchester United

The second Dewey found out that Della was a Manchester fan, he took her side. You know that's a Dewey thing.

Sadly, he forgot that Manchester was on downhill since 2014. He has to watch the Europa League and begs that next year will be better.

Louie - Liverpool

All the triplets were Liverpool fans thanks to Donald. When their circle grew, Huey decided that he wanted to support all the teams, Dewey took Della's side, but Louie stay by his uncle side. Donald made him a Liverpool fan, he will stay a Liverpool fan.

A bit bias for Donald and Louis relationship? Yes. Always.

May & June - Liverpool

Just like their brother, the twins wanted to follow their dad. Easy.

Violet - Internazionale

Violet was never that interested in football. She knew the basics, the big tournaments and big teams. But then, she got a sister.

An italian sister.

An AC Milan fan sister.

And Violet knew what she had to do, and became an Inter fan. Just to get under Lena's skin. That's such a sisterhood thing to do.

Gosalyn - Borussia Dortmund

One more that has her focus on passion. Gosalyn in 2017 is a latina, but her last name has a bit of german flavour. That's where she found her team, a team who's rebel and loyal.

Perfect for Gos.

The last game of the 2022-2023 season broke her heart.

B.O.Y.D. - Real Madrid

Sweet baby B.O.Y.D. has a whole world to discover. He spends most of his time with the rest of the Team Science, so he listens to Fenton's stories about a team that can make miracles happen, a team that doesn't know how to give up, and their victories can only be described as epic.

Yes, Fenton's influence turned B.O.Y.D. in a Real Madrid fan.

Real Madrid bias? Of course.

José - Flamengo

I asked an expert, @fantasticenthusiasttale, for this one.

She told me that José Carioca lives in a neighborhood in the city of Rio de Janeiro called Vila Xurupita, which has its own soccer team, Xurupita FC. He even played for them.

But, her headcanon is that José is a Flamengo fan. And who I am to disagree?

Panchito - Necaxa

To tell the truth, I know nothing about Mexico football. I stared at Panchito and said, this is the face of a Necaxa fan.

So there you have it.

Gladstone - Manchester City

The notorious freeloader Gladstone Gander of course is a Manchester City fan.

He knows nothing about the team's history, but when he found out the team has a almost bottomless wallet, he became a fan.

Matilda - Rangers

Like Violet, Matilda began supporting Rangers only to get under Scrooge's skin.

With the time, she actually became a passionate fan who enjoyed going to the games. She and Scrooge have been in many Old Firm (Rangers vs Celtic) games.

When the team was sended to the 4th division, she went to every game until Rangers returned to the Scottish Premiership.

Ludwig Von Drake - Rapid Wien

In his youth, professor Von Drake enjoyed seeing the football Rapid Wien showed. A team for the working class, who fights day by day.

Von Drake was happy to see that Rapid still was the most successful team of the country.

But professor didn't see with good eyes the grow of Red Bull Salzburg. A team born of a corporation, who denies its own history.

Von Drake awaits for the resurgence of Rapid.

Mark Beaks - Inter Miami

When Messi signed with Inter Miami, Mark Beaks flew to the city because he knew that was buzz worthy.

That's the only reason he has to go to the games.

This was so much fun. Thanks for the ask @ducktales-and-ducks, sorry I couldn't finish this one earlier.

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kianaisspiraling · 2 years ago

Text

Immortal GIGS Crew Phasmophobia AU

GIGS phasmo AU where they're basically just a group of retired immortals having fun :D

Impulse and Skizz started working for this ghost hunting company, and since they can't die, instead of reading the manual they decided to just fuck around and find out.

In truth, they kinda just showed up and started taking jobs. The company was gonna find these intruders and punish them at first, but when the spectacular results started coming in, the higher-ups hesitantly decided to let it go, since none of their actual employees were brave enough to take the cases Impulse and Skizz did.

Eventually, their results from one investigation were left with a letter requesting payment, since they didn't wanna keep using the cheap starter equipment in the van they "borrowed." So if the company slips an envelope full of cash into their own mailbox every time they receive a report for the mystery workers to take, and sometimes equipment disappears from storage with cash in its place, they simply would look the other way.

Later they drag Grian, Scar, and Gem into their shenanigans and they also fuck around and find out.

To the company, the GIGS Crew is their best team, even if they don't know much about them. They always take their hardest, most fatal jobs, and walk out completely fine.

Little do they know these eldritch entities die repeatedly and they scream like little girls. What is considered an almost certainly fatal job for any regular person, is just a game to the GIGS.

For example, all manuals say to snap pictures of cursed items, and safely return them to HQ to be disposed of in a contained area. GIGS crew though? None of them have the self control to not use those. Every single one of them would pull every tarot card for fun and you know it. Manual says to under no circumstances touch a summoning circle. GIGS does not read the manual.

They even set some rules early on, afterall this is a game to them, and what fun is a game if you can't die? So essentially they declared that if a ghost was to hit you with what would be a killing blow, you have to go into spectral form, in which you detach from your body and hover about like a spectator. Think Dr. Strange. The only thing they're allowed to do in this form is pick stray items up, and if everyone "dies" they have to jump ship and come back again later.

They can be 'revived' by the monkey paw or something too. Thing is, despite the fact that they don't need to, they still say, "I wish for Life," before the 'dead' person returns to their body. If this causes some recently dead guy a block away to suddenly wake up fine, sue them. They're causing miracles over here, be grateful!

Now imagine something happens one day that causes a human mortal that also works for the company in some regard to bare witness to GIGS' unhinged method of investigation. They're playing with cursed objects like toys, purposefully triggering hunts, and—

Unnamed is sitting in the van watching the camera closely when it happens. They've been tasked as a fifth, no wait, sixth member of the legendary GIGS crew for the day, since there's apparently a girl named Gem that subs in for Scar half the time. They're thinking that, sure, this team's been a bit reckless so far, but who are they to judge? These guys are THE professionals, after all. However, this viewpoint quickly gets decimated.

"HahAHA Scar's dead!" Unnamed's head snaps up at Grian's outburst. They, being the normal person they are, respond reasonably, "Wait, agent Scar is dead-?!" A pause followed by a realization, "Why the hell are you laughing-?!"

Grian, who came back into the van for candles since they were going to do an Onryo test before it started hunting, suddenly remembers that humans don't think death is funny. Right. Need to fix that slip up.

"Uhm... out of shock, I think?" Wow, A+ excuse, he mentally berates himself. Think Grian, think! Humans have that thing called grief, right? And isn't the first stage of that denial? Bingo! "I.. I'm sorry, I think I'm just.. in denial?" Grian wants to slap himself. Great idea, horrible execution. Unnamed clearly didn't buy it.

Thankfully, that mess was interrupted, "Hey guys, I found the monkey paw. Should I use it to bring Scar back?" Impulse says over the radio. Skizz and Grian are quick to agree, the latter also using the distraction to rush out of the van and that conversation with the candles.

It takes a moment to click, but Unnamed suddenly realizes, "Wait, are you guys gonna use a cursed item to bring Agent Scar back-?! Look, I know you all are mourning, but that is under all circumstances forbidden!" They take a breath in disbelief, "That could have unforeseen consequences!"

Skizz pipes up, not even trying to be subtle, "Well, duh. The consequences are what makes it fun!" Unnamed is interrupted by Impulse before they can rant about how bad of an idea this is—, "Yeah you say that until you're the one that has to deal with them," he chuckles.

Skizz, in blind yet playful rage, bites the bait, "Fine then! Give me the monkey paw, and I'll wish Scar back to life myself!"

Skizz does this and dies, and they can practically hear him complaining from beyond the grave. Impulse snaps a picture of his corpse as they make fun of the position he's in, his back bent backward. Unnamed is frozen in shock in the van as they listen to Skizz's friends, including a newly revived Scar, laugh at their own friend's demise. Oh god, they're surrounded by psychopaths. These guys take all the hardest jobs, of course they've gone crazy—

Unnamed, after spiraling for an unknown amount of time, looks over to the activity chart to see that there is a hunt going on. This gives them some time to collect their thoughts, only for that little composure to immediately be shattered when as soon as the hunt ends, Grian barks out a laugh, "Oh Scar! He's died AGAIN!", "Oh nooo!" Impulse follows along with a chuckle. Unnamed is on the verge of hyperventilating.

The two remaining GIGS return to the van and ignore Unnamed's impending panic attack. Grian tells Impulse that the hunt started right after the third candle blew out, so he thinks it's an Onryo. "I mean we do already have orbs, but I wasn't getting freezing temps and that ghost just wasn't answering spirit box." Impulse counters.

"Listen, I know I was spirit boxin' it pretty good,"—Unnamed shudders at that. The second-hand cringe they felt listening to Grian's "WHERE ARE YOUUU-?!" was indescribable—"but my gut is really telling me it's an Onryo! Besides, we've had ghosts that just refused to talk before."

"Your gut is usually right," Impulse mutters. "Look, we've got one of two evidence and a successful Onryo test, so I say we gag since Scar and Skizz are dead." Grian says. Impulse still looks unsure, "I just feel like it's too soon. One evidence is hardly enough, and that Onryo test could be a fluke."

They have completely forgotten Unnamed is there at this point, and they don't exactly feel like attracting attention to themself as they wilt like a flower in the corner, pondering their life choices.

Grian relents a bit, "Okay how about this, we ask Scar and Skizz if we should gag or continue investigating, fair?" Impulse nods, "Fair."

Unnamed looks up a little, concerned on how exactly they plan to consult their dead friends. They're beginning to think there's a high likelihood they'll quit tonight, and they're definitely going to need a therapist after all this.

Impulse speaks up over the radio despite them all being in the truck, "Alright guys, come get your clipboards!" Unnamed stares on in something akin to horror as two of the clipboards up on the wall start hovering. Impulse's voice is somehow too loud and too quiet at the same time, "Alright, throw your clipboards on the keyboard if we should continue, and throw them on the floor if we should gag."

Both clipboards are now being repeatedly picked up and tossed on the floor of the van by an invisible force. 'Forces,' they correct themself mentally, as it slowly dawns on them that these ghosts are actually Scar and Skizz, and isn't THAT a mind-twister?

Impulse looks slightly disappointed but smiles good-naturedly anyway, "You guys wanna gag? Alrighty then, check off Onryo and let's go!"

This is the moment that Impulse suddenly remembers Unnamed's existence, looking slightly worried at their lack of input, "You okay?" He turns his head, "Grian don't go yet, Unnamed hasn't given their opinion." Grian grumbles out a 'fine', and Impulse looks back at them, "You wanna gag, or should we contin–" Unnamed interrupts, "Just get me outta here please," they near-whisper.

Impulse looks them over and remembers that humans aren't meant to be that pale and hesitantly asks, "You uh... feeling sick?" He looks over to Grian for help, and Unnamed could swear they heard Grian sassily mumble, "Don't look at me, I dunno how humans work either," but they had to be hearing things, because that just doesn't make sense, surely.

"Impulse, lets just go and pass Unnamed onto someone who actually knows what they're doing," Grian grumbles, clearly frustrated. Impulse still looks concerned (at least he's trying), but concedes since, yeah, they really don't know what they're doing, do they?

As Grian starts the truck, Unnamed notices that Scar and Skizz's bodies are suddenly in the truck. Did– did Grian leave while Impulse looked them over? That had only lasted for a few seconds though, Grian couldn't possibly have dragged them in in that time, could he? It's like they were just teleported in here. Unnamed is really going to need that therapist, and maybe some kind of hallucination medication too...

While staring into space and down at the keyboard in misery, Unnamed distantly hears the sounds of someone cracking their joints and grunting noises to accompany it. They fully snap to attention, however, when they hear the people's voices.

Scar makes a sound of discomfort as he snaps his neck back into place, "Oh void, gonna feel that in the mornin'," he mutters to himself. Skizz on the other hand lets out a whoop at the satisfying crack in his back, before immediately thrusting into bickering with Impulse.

"Dipple-Dop, you killed me!" Skizz exclaims, and Unnamed gets the feeling that they should cover their ears, like a child does when their parents fight. "ME-?! You're the one who used the monkey paw!" Impulse retorts. Skizz, "Well, you shouldn't have given it to me!" Impulse, "But you literally asked me for it!" Skizz, "Well, I wouldn't have if you didn't instigate me!" Impulse, "Oh, come on! You..."

Unnamed tunes them out and focuses on Scar and Grian, all thoughts having left their head out of pure shock, believing this must be some twisted fever dream. It makes sense, they think, they have been tasked with reviewing GIGS' reports for the past month after all.

In truth, the only reason Unnamed is here in the first place is because Skizz didn't read a form before signing it. With their previous check, GIGS received a form that was asking about sending someone to monitor and review their methods and see if they're fit to formally become employees. It was really just an effort to get to know something about these mysterious volunteers, though.

Skizz, however, just skimmed the part gushing about how much the company appreciates their hard work and the benefits of becoming real hires, not actually reading the part about the employee evaluation, assuming they were just going to get the rewards. He signed it and wrote down the GIGS Crew email address he created a minute ago, hence why Unnamed is now here. Yippie.

They tune into Grian and Scar's conversation as they vaguely register Impulse and Skizz's continued, albeit quieter, bickering in the background. Scar is griping about the crick in his neck, "Why do you guys always have to leave a guy in the most uncomfortable positions, huh?" Grian responds blunty with zero hesitation, "Because it's funny," he snorts.

Unnamed tunes them out too as their brain starts to reboot enough to process that they are supposed to be dead. Why are they not dead-?!

Grian notices Unnamed staring in the corner and clears his throat above everyone else's chatter, making a gesture towards them once he has their attention. Unnamed can feel their heart sink straight through the floor, and a metaphorical noose tighten around their neck.

He looks over at Scar and Skizz, "You two really couldn't wait to get back up, could you? Remember, we. have. COMPANY!" Grian punctuates each word in that statement with a clap.

The two sheepishly look over at Unnamed while Impulse looks mildly panicked. Scar and Impulse were cooking up some half-baked excuses, and Skizz is malfunctioning when Grian sighs and relents a bit, "Okay, we're really not being that subtle anyway, are we?"

Scar is spewing a ridiculous explanation in the background, "They uh, shocked us back to life while you weren't looking, yeah!" A whisper from Skizz shuts him up, "I'm no expert, but I don't think that's how that works, buddy." Scar deflates a bit, "But that's all I've got..." Skizz rubs a comforting hand on his back, "I know, dude, at least ya' tried."

Before Unnamed can get enough of a grip on themself and ask what in the hell is happening, the ride ends, simultaneously having taken an eternity and also been way too short.

Grian slips out of the driver seat and ushers them outside quickly, them now standing in front of the company's main building looking lost. "Wait!" Impulse stops Grian from driving off, "You forgot your employee evaluation sheet. It looks oddly blank..." Impulse trails off before snapping out of his stupor, "Sorry! Didn't mean to pry. I'm probably not meant to read that, huh?" He slips the report into Unnamed's hand when they don't take it on their own.

"Oh, and would you mind taking in our report for this job too?" Despite the lack of a response, Impulse slips the report into their hands anyway, "Thanks, pleasure working with you! Sorry for any disturbances we many of caused." Impulse calls out as he steps back into the vehicle, Grian driving away as soon as the door closes, as if driving away will solve all their problems.

Unnamed starts to mindlessly wander inside the building, robotically turning in the report and submitting their evaluation sheet for review, one to the standard job review department and one to HQ. 'It really is a bit blank, huh?' They think passively. They're not really there, still feeling like they're floating in nothingness, but it's the first coherent thought they've had regarding reality in a while, so they'll take anything at this point.

Before they know it, they've found their way into the overnight stay room. Most investigations occur at night, so they have two rooms with sectioned off areas, each area containing a twin bed and a nightstand. It would look uncannily like a hospital if the nightstands were metal instead of wood.

They look up at the clock in the room and distantly note that its 2:17 am. Barely acknowledging that, they ungracefully flop onto the nearest available bed and pass out unceremoniously, not even taking off their shoes. The last thing to cross their mind before drifting off into a dreamless sleep is absolute certainty that this must just be a really strange nightmare induced by lack of proper sleep, and with that, they are at peace.

Unnamed hazily blinks their eyes open the next morning to see a silhouette sitting on their bedside, vaguely recognizing them as their friend, Unidentified. They can't focus on that though, only signing in relief now that that disturbing dream was over, writing it off as nerves for the upcoming job with GIGS. They're probably completely normal people, if a bit unorthodox.

This illusion is quickly shattered, though, because as soon as Unnamed is conscious enough to listen, their friend speaks, "So, how was it?" Unidentified stares at them with clear excitement, bouncing up and down a bit where they sat.

Unnamed, still pitifully oblivious, tilts their head in confusion, "How was what?" It's Unidentified's turn to be confused, "What do you mean, 'How was what?' The job with GIGS, obviously!" Unidentified exclaims incredulously.

Unnamed's face slowly morphs into one of unbridled horror as they realize that that wasn't a dream.

The next thing they know, they've sat up, fully awake, getting up and brushing themself off. Unidentified quickly switches from excited to worried, "Unnamed, are you okay?"

Unnamed can barely recall how to string together the sounds they call language to reply, "Yeah, I uh... I just need to go report something to HQ." Before Unidentified can respond, Unnamed has rushed out the door, straightening out their attire so that they look at least somewhat presentable in front of the company's head.

They file a request for an immediate meeting with the higher-ups, stressing the importance of it. They add that it has to do with Team GIGS as an afterthought, hoping it'll peak their curiosity.

And so Unnamed sits there, standing in the lobby with pumping adrenaline as they come to terms with a stark truth:

The GIGS crew is not human.

~•~

Bonuses!

POV GIGS Before:

"Look, Grian, I know you don't wanna leave the van, but this time you have to!" Impulse tries to reason, though he knows he's fighting a losing battle.

Grian refuses to relent, gaze boring into Impulse with several Eyes, "But whyyyy?!"

Impulse lets out an exhausted sigh, he's been at this for a while, "You know why, an inspector is going to be hunting with us this time, and they're human! We have to give them van duty or else they could die in the house. Like actually die."

Grian let's out an indignant whine, his wings puffing out in defiance, "And? There's gonna be five of us, can't we both just be in the van or something?"

"Grian, you and I both know that out of everyone here, except for maybe Gem, you get along with humans the least. You don't even try to be friendly!" Impulse counters. He can see Grian's resolve beginning to falter as he continues, "You don't wanna be stuck in the van with a 'strange mortal' the whole time, do you?" He uses air quotes, trying to speak Grian's language, and it's working.

Grian visibly deflates a little bit, crossing his arms and looking away as he bites out a bitter, "no." He's staring with only two eyes now, so that's progress Impulse thinks.

Skizz finally cuts in, not having wanted to get involved when Grian was still yelling, but will now that he's somewhat calm, "Listen buddy, it's not like you've never left the van before! You do it whenever Gemstone joins us, and sometimes when a bunch of us are dead!" Skizz chuckles a bit, "It's nothin' you haven't done before, G-Sharp."

Grian fully deflates this time, tension releasing from his body as looks at his feet and heaves a sigh of his own, "Fiiiine. The stupid human can have the vaaaan." He pouts, but it's the best they're going to get so they take it.

Impulse finally lets out a breath of relief, glad that he's avoided the possible murder of their inspector. Void, he really feels like a single mom sometimes.

~•~

POV GIGS After:

Grian is most definitely driving faster than the speed limit allows, not that he particularly cares. That went horribly, the human saw Scar and Skizz revive themselves for Void's sake!

In truth, they were never really dead. They really just couldn't bend their death-related rules they set for a day, huh? He has the urge to bury his face in the steering wheel as he drives. "This is why I avoid mortals," he grumbles to himself.

When they arrive at their designated "ghost hunting lobby," as they call it, they all devolve into various states of stress.

Grian face-plants into sofa and screams into a throw pillow, Eyes forming and popping around his head like lava. Impulse is pacing around the room like a maniac, pointed tail swishing back and forth in distress. Scar sits on the armchair, fiddling with his cane and pushing a hand through his hair, his eyes practically stapled open, gazing into space. Skizz just kind of stands there, his tail also swishing in anxiety as he dreads the inevitable.

Scar finally shatters the silence, "Now, I don't wanna point fingers, but," he points at Skizz, "kinda your fault, Skizz." There it is, there's what Skizz was dreading.

He tries to defend himself anyways, "Alright listen, I know that most of this is my fault for signing that dumb form, but you can't deny that we all messed up at least a little bit."

Impulse stops pacing at that. Grian doesn't move from his misery on the sofa, not reacting at all.

"I- yeah, Skizz is right. We all kind of screwed up. I think our main problem was how casually we acknowledged death. It's surprisingly easy to forget that humans don't view life as a game..." Impulse rubs the back of his neck, guilty.

Skizz still looks apologetic though, "Yeah, just know I'm really sorry about that. Maybe don't put me on mail duty anymore."

Scar stands up, his skin having taken on a blue blue sheen, his edges a little sharper, and small translucent wings behind him. "It's okay man, I probably would have done the same thing," he picks up a Jellie that's winding in between his legs, "plus we both kinda revived while Unnamed was right there, so you can't take all the blame for that."

"Thanks dude, that means a lot." Skizz slings an arm over Scar's shoulder.

Grian finally sits up, "So what happens now?" All heads turn to him, their stares questioning.

Eyes have never bothered Grian, since he has more of them, so he stands up fully and elaborates, "Well, within the next few days, the company is gonna know we're not human. What exactly do we do now?" A contemplating pause followed by a sad voice, "Do we... have to quit ghost hunting?"

The room goes deathly quiet. They... didn't think about that. Even Skizz and Scar look crestfallen. It's Impulse who pipes up, "No, we don't." he says surprisingly self-assured, all eyes now on him.

Impulse continues on, "I mean, Skizz and I just kinda showed up one day and they couldn't get rid of us, them knowing what we are isn't gonna change that. How exactly would they stop us?" The crew looks a little less depressed at that.

"Plus," Impulse looks hesitant for a moment, "Unnamed's reaction to death reminded me of how fragile human life really is, so even if we're only doing this for fun," he looks to each of them, "it makes me feel like we're protecting them, even if just by taking the lethal jobs."

Skizz perks up at the notion, and Scar breaks out into a grin, waltzing over to Impulse and slinging an arm over his shoulder. Jellie wanders off to go paw at Grian, who's sat back down, still squeezing that throw pillow.

Scar has regained his aura of grandeur, as he joins Impulse in cheering them up, "Yeah, I like that! We're helping by dying where they can't!" He looks very excited at the thought.

It's Skizz's turn to join the building huddle, an arm finding it's way on Impulse's other shoulder. "Oh yeah! Good guy Skizzleman, saving mortals from the horrors of death!" He pumps a fist in the air.

Grian gets up, Jellie trailing behind, and reluctantly joins the hug, arms around Scar and Skizz and his wings around all of them. "I don't care what happens to those humans, but whatever," grian mumbles. Impulse just smiles fondly at him, because despite how he pretends not to, Impulse can see just how much Grian truly cares. He doesn't have to understand mortals to care for them.

The soft moment is interrupted by a ding from Skizz's phone. They untangle their arms as Skizz checks what it is.

He perks up excitedly, "Oh, it's our report's review for the job!" He chuckles a bit, "If one good thing came out of signing that form, it's that we now get almost instant results!"

He clicks on the email, eager to see if they guessed right. Spoiler, they did not.

"What-?!" His face contorts to one of disbelief, "A Mare-?! How?" Grian shoots up at Skizz's outburst, clearly upset.

"What-?! Yeah how-?! That thing wasn't turning off any lights!" He squawks indignantly, a few Eyes floating over Skizz's shoulder to read it himself.

Scar looks wholly unaffected, "Eh, I don't really know how we got Onryo in the first place, I was too busy being dead."

Impulse seems to slowly come to a conclusion, "Well, if you think about it, we weren't really turning the lights on to begin with," his voice picks up a bit, "We were putting so many candles out for the Onryo test, that—"

Skizz finishes, "We stopped turning on the breaker 'cause the candlelight was enough!"

None of them have to turn around to see Grian facepalming, the scream of frustration enough for them to paint that picture themselves, "I hate this game!"

Grian isn't done with his rampage, "But wait, doesn't Mare also need spirit box?" He looks to Impulse for confirmation, and continues once he gets a nod, "But I did spirit box so well though! I had great coverage."

Impulse puts up a hand placatingly, "Yeah, I agree, you did spirit box pretty good, but we were on Nightmare, so spirit box probably just probably wasn't one of the two random evidence."

Grian crosses his arms, "Or maybe it's because someone," he casts a glare at Impulse, though he means nothing malicious by it, "just had to prestige, leaving us with shoddy level 1 equipment." He sighs however, "But you're probably right. We didn't really look that hard for Ghost Writing, did we?"

He wanders off to grumble to himself a little longer, and they all laugh at Grian's pity-party. They end up sitting on sofa together for a while, just chatting about things they couldn't talk about while Unnamed was there.

Impulse is telling a story from Hermitcraft earlier that day, but he stops when Gem comes up in it, paling, "Oh Void..."

Impulse's face unravels into one of dread, a realization forming, "Gem's gonna smack us all upside the head for this." Oh. Oh no. They all shudder in unison. They're screwed.

~•~

Thanks for reading my little self-indulgent AU-idea turned into a fic!

This was originally meant to just be an AU idea, but I blinked and I'd written a whole fic, so yeah.

I think I'll edit this a bit and post it on Ao3 too of that interests anyone.

Feel free to use the idea however you want, just tag me, I wanna see what you do :)

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