#that’s a death sentence if your a/c goes out

[willowed-wisp]

NSFW ALPHABET [ simon ‘ghost’ riley]

Just my opinion based on how Simon comes across in the games. It was quite fun to interpret it. Hope I didn’t do too bad of a job 🤞

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Ghost would be more closed off to a one night stand, so it’s lucky if you even get his name let alone for him to stay after the sex.

As for in a relationship, he cares so deeply that if he’s jackhammered you he’ll find himself gently massaging your sore pussy- you did take him ‘so well’ after all (his words)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He used to hate his arms, all the scars he had endured but he paid good, well earned money on his sleeve tattoos. And with encouragement from his partner- he likes them.

As for you, your face. He rarely gets to see all of his own, so seeing your face in any sense is a blessing. For intimacy it’s a luxury to see your brows screw up and lips parted. He knows you don’t have the same benefit of seeing his ALL the time.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He likes the idea of claiming you by coming inside but the idea of children in a world like this… it scares him. Even if you’re on birth control… too much of a risk.

Simon loves seeing you on your knees, lips pink and raw after finishing down your throat. And you better be swallowing- he doesn’t like tryna get stains out of the bedsheets.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Wants to fuck you in close quarters to the rest of 141, and use his balaclava as a gag to shut you up.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Simon is said to be in his earlier to mid-30s and doesn’t have as much experience as the others but you’ve never complained about his skill before. He’s a quick learner.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

ADVANCED MISSIONARY; As said before, he loves your face. So something front facing but spicier than missionary- legs on his shoulders… laid flat on the edge of the kitchen table with him stood ploughing into you.

AGAINST THE WALL: Simon loves knowing it’s all him giving you pleasure- you clung to him for dear life. Nails cutting into him and limp from the waist down, he’s not shy when it comes to pain… not that kind anyway.

DOGGY: The only exception to him not facing you is when you’ve been teasing him all day long. He loves the roughness and how much of you he can feel at that angle. Intoxicating.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Simon goes Ghost mode during sex. It’s a scale of kinda serious to don’t talk kind of serious. Depends on how long he’s gone without it. If he’s on leave and it’s on the couch during movie night and you clash teeth- he’s so serious about it but when you start laughing, his eyes go puppy dog and he joins you in hysterics.

He can be very goofy so he has that side when his guard is down.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He likes to keep in tidy down there, not completely shaven but nothing to stop you from giving him sloppy head.

He has light eyelashes but the hair is so short you can barely see the true colour - a blondish brown colour.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Like most things with Simon, he truly depends on what mood you catch him in. He’s a chill guy, he’s the type to get you gifts without making a big deal about it.

He just wants your sole undivided attention, that’s romance in his eyes. Having a connection with you, spending time with you. So he’s kissing up your body, and eating you out like there’s no tomorrow without expecting you to return the favour.

Simon is all about eye contact, kissing and making you feel special in the moment. So I guess you could call him a pinch romantic.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Being away from you is a death sentence, but the mission is work. That doesn’t mean LT doesn’t jack off, to images of you riding him or panting beneath him, when he’s in the shower.

Off duty he has you, he doesn’t need to jack off.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

BONDAGE: Hands behind your back, tied with his belt. Or he doesn’t mind, he knows how to break out of ties anyway.

VOYEURISM: Loves watching you masturbate, revels in it because he knows he’ll have you coming on his cock in the next few minutes.

DOMINANCE: Not in an unhealthy way, he’s a BIG guy (and he uses it to his advantage). Caging you in and hitching you up at his waist, repeating the words, “Who do you belong to?” “Who makes you feel so good?”

And the answer every single time is ‘you, Si.’

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Nowhere public, there’s a reason he wears a mask in public let alone being caught with his dick out.

His favourite may be a wall, especially if Soap is staying in the guest room… because the master bedroom is beside it. Ghost is territorial like that, you’re his.

The bed is too comfortable for him when he’s initially back. Simon will hold your hips and watch you bounce on his dick while his back is on the fluffy carpet. Carpet burns were worth it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Kissing his tattoos- man this guy gets pent up when you do that. All the way up his arm, through to his chest. Do this and you will find his trousers tented and tight.

Ghost is very susceptible to touch, he spends so much time trying not to get hit by stray bullets or by fists that when he lets his guard down- he really gets turned on by crotch palming or kissing. Makeout sessions quickly become a night long sex fest.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Hates being blindfolded, absolutely despises it. Even when relaxed it’s difficult for Ghost to just be Simon. He likes being able to see you, his PTSD comes in play there.

Also, another no no, is you wearing a skull mask or himself wearing it in the bedroom. When he’s at home, he doesn’t even want to remember what happened in the field. Let alone bring it into the most vulnerable position he’s gonna be in. He may even draw the line at face coverings in general.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

As said before, he couldn’t care less if he receives. Only that he makes you cum at least once.

Don’t mistake that for him not liking blowjobs, he loves it- again, a touch thing but he would rather watching you come undone.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Like a lot of things with Simon, it depends on his mood and it you can handle it at the time.

Simon is a kinda soft dom because he cares about his significant other and doesn’t want to hurt you but if you can take it… you’d better find something to hold onto. Legs and abdominal muscles galore- he is a tyrant if you wish it.

But he doesn’t need to do that ALL the time, he can do soft and gentle just as well. Deep, powerful thrusts… letting you adjust after a couple of rounds.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If you’ve been teasing him, he will pull you into a restroom and have you drooling and seeing stars.

He prefers to have his time with you, to get you well adjusted for his size by fingering and then eating you out. Dragging out orgasm after orgasm to get you to relax.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He doesn’t normally like fucking in public, but as said before- if you touch him in the right places and tell him how hot you are for him… let’s say he will find a dressing room or bathroom stall (within reason) to stop his hardness.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Have you seen this man? 6’5” and muscles for days… Simon has a LOT of stamina.

The first week he gets home you’re lucky when he’s not inside of you. He can go multiple times a day for an average of two hour sessions. He likes to take his time with you.

Quickies wise about 6 rounds in a row.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Simon’s not a fan of toys. Doesn’t own any and doesn’t plan on buying. He’s sure in his abilities and when you a moaning mess impaled on his cock- he’d say you’re quite satisfied.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Edges you from time to time and make you beg for some release. But that’s only when he’s in one of his sarcastic moods- mostly after he’s hung out with Soap.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not obnoxiously loud, but not quiet. His voices get a bit higher or goes lower when he says your name. Holding your hair while you’re on your knees, choking on his cock. It’s kind of addictive.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Your smell. Purposefully buries his nose in the crux of your shoulder in general. Especially when so close to his release- you’ve been squeezing his size continuously for the past five minutes and the scent of you, not your perfume or shampoo, can toss him off that cliff.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Above average at about 7.5 inches, but thick. No wonder he indulges in extensive foreplay before fucking you. He’s the perfect size, nothing too extreme but hits the correct spots.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He’s touch starved on missions and doesn’t fancy asking the boys for that, so he’s pretty horny. You don’t help dressing all pretty in white lingerie the day he gets back.

On a scale of 0-10, Simon is an 8-10.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Simon finds it difficult to sleep in general, only after a day’s fuck fest is he worn out enough to sleep soundly. Next to his partner.

[simplyghosting]

Every once in a while I dream of being able to build my own house, but specifically so it can be designed to be functional without electricity

[axelsagewrites]

Hey, can I please request Jacaerys x aunt!reader where he goes to her after the dance as she had been imprisoned in the dungeons and he offer her to let him have her or she'll be sentenced to death or sum. And reader is as pious and religious as Alicent and she is horrified by the idea of being sullied by ""bastard seed"" but she reveals to be c0ck-drunk by the end of it?

Jace Velaryon*Perfect Wife

Pairing: Jace x f!reader

Word count: 2809

Warnings: dub con, imprisonment, held at knife point (not during smut), praise, degradation, nipple play, p in v sex, hickeys, spanking, bruising, forced marriage, smut 18+c

Masterlist here

You weren’t much of a warrior. You had been raised the way a princess should have been. Well, that’s what your mother told you. However, when two days had passed since Aemond and Aegon had left to confront Rhanerya, and everyone refused to tell you what was happening you decided to get the hell out of there on your dragon.

Maybe you’d end up in Essos and sell a dragon egg for a home. Maybe even Dorne. You could try throw yourself on their mercy. After all, their ambassadors had always seemed to enjoy your company. However, all your plans soon crumbled when you accidentally flew into what you’d assumed to be an empty clearing.

You’d landed in a small field and had quickly tried to ‘borrow’ an apple from a local farm when you felt a strong grip on your arm and a sharp blade on your neck. So cold it had to be Valyrian steel. “And who do we have here?” you recognised Jace’s voice clearly. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you pretty girls shouldn’t go about dawdling?”

-

The stone floors bruised your knees each time you knelt to pray but you didn’t complain or even wince at the pain. You’d counted the days you’d been here by etching marks in the stone with the corner of your Seven-star necklace your mother had given you. 27 days so far. Each morning you prayed. Well, what you thought was morning. Then each afternoon then evening. Each time to a different member of the seven. Even the stranger since perhaps the god of death was the one you truly needed right now.

“My lady,” a sing song voice called out, “Lunch is ready,” Jace said as he approached your cell with his usual grin. He didn’t come every day but when he did it only seemed to add to your punishment. “I made sure to pick you the freshest apple,” he crouched down, holding it out to you.

You kept your eyes on the ground as you tried to finish your prayer, “C’mon now. They’re clearly not listening to you,” he mocked, sitting down the tray in front of the bars to your cell.

Still, you ignored him as you wrapped them up. Jace sighed and just as you finished your prayers he stood, taking the tray with him. “Where are you going?” you called, moving to stand on your feet and grabbing the bars, “That’s my food,”

“No this is my food,” he said, as if he was calling the sky blue, “And you never took it,”

“I was praying!”

“Not fast enough,” he teased. “Maybe next time you’ll remember to acknowledge the heir to Westeros,” he said as he turned to leave.

“My brothers not here,” you mumbled, turning around to go take your place on the wooden bench they called a bed.

The wine cup clattered against the wall, missing your head by only an inch. You span on your heels to confront him, but the only trace was your food dropped on the ground in a head and the apple slowly rolling towards your cell.

It stopped just out of arm’s length of the bars as if the gods really were mocking you. It took you laying on the ground, stretching out the tips of your fingernails to manage to roll it closer so you could grab it. You consoled yourself knowing he never came twice in one day.

Yet this time he did.

Jace arrived with a meal so nice looking it almost reminded you of what you used to eat. There was even a whole chicken leg on it. when he saw the apple core in the corner of your cell Jace couldn’t help but laugh. “Here,” he said, reaching it out for you to try manoeuvre through the bars when he suddenly pulled it back, “Aren’t you going to thank your prince?”

“Thank you,” you glared, reaching your hand out.

Jace just smirked, “Thank you what?”

“Thank you, dear nephew,” you offered with a fake smile.

“Say it. say that I am the true heir, a true prince, and I will be most obliged to give you this chicken leg. Straight from the queens table,” he said, showing it to you once more just to rub it in.

You could feel your stomach rumble, but you couldn’t say it. not after all this time. Not after all the battles. Not for a chicken leg. “My mother isn’t here,” you said through gritted teeth.

Jace reached through the bars, grabbing your neck before you could react. His grasp was tight but despite his fingers digging into your skin you weren’t afraid, “I can only be so patient,” he warned before letting you go. He turned to leave, taking the food with him, “besides, who said your mother is even alive?” he mocked before slamming the door shut behind him.

The stalemate continued for another day and a half and suddenly you were regretting not rationing the apple. At least the guards had kept your water jug topped up, but you didn’t want to risk that being taken too.

“I have a new deal,” Jace said, walking in empty handed.

“Where’s my food?” you said, not even standing from where you sat on your bed.

“That’s not very polite,” Jace tutted, leaning against the bars, “How would you like to get out of here?” you couldn’t help your eyes widening at the idea. Something Jace seemed to revel in. he unlocked your cell and despite wanting to run you sat still as he closed the door behind him. “Come here. Let me get a closer look at you,”

You wanted to slap him but instead you stood up and slowly crossed the floor while Jace’s eyes scanned your frame. “Still so beautiful,” he mumbled before he finally brought his eyes back to yours as your cheeks burned, “I have a new proposal for you,” he said, reaching to stroke your cheek. He was gentle but you still flinched at his touch.

He stepped closer, moving his hand down till he was toying with your necklace, his eyes not so subtly on your chest, “Marry me,” he said, and you instantly grimaced at his words, “Be my wife and I will let you free,”

“I wouldn’t be free,” you snapped, “I’d be the wife of a bastard, a nobody, a waste of space- “you began to spit your venom at him only to be cut off by his tight grasp around your neck.

“I wouldn’t be so hasty if I was you,” he warned, “What I’m offering is generous. You should hear what Daemon had planned for you,” he dropped his grip and you instantly stepped back, trying to recatch your breath.

Jace slowly began to circle you, eyeing you up from every angle as you silently thought over his offer when suddenly a thought popped into your head, “What’s in it for you? Last time I checked you already had a betrothed,”

“Alliances can change, we both know that” he drawled, his chest pressed against your back while his hand grazed your hip. Not mine, you thought, but you stayed silent instead. “Besides I need a wife. Someone to show off in court,” his hand trailed up from your hip to your waist making you shudder through the thin dress they’d gave you, “Someone to bear children. Someone to warm my bed,” he said, his lips pressed against your ear.

His hand went to move to your front, but you grabbed his wrist before he could touch anything, “I’d rather die,” you spat.

Jace grabbed your hips, spinning you around and pulling you flush against his chest, “That can be arranged,” he warned but he still wore his teasing smirk, “You think you’d survive here without me? A pretty young things like yourself in nothing but her night dress roaming around court, think of the scandals. Gods help you if you even make it out the castle. What do you think the small folk would do with a princess like you?”

“Perhaps they’d save me. If they believed in the true king,” you said, trying to hold firm but feeling yourself shake.

He chuckled under his breath, “There is only a queen. C’mon, I can’t be that bad surely. You saying you’ve never thought about it?” he said, his hand moving down to your ass, his lips moving to your ear, “Its not just the gods who know your dirty little secrets,” he whispered, his hot breath fanning your neck.

“I want my dragon back,” you said suddenly making Jace lift his head from where he’d been dragging his lips across your neck, “If I’m to be your wife,”

“As soon as your belly swells with my seed,” he said, “Anything else?”

It felt like a trap, but you tried anyway, “And separate rooms. I don’t want to see you more than I have to,”

He chuckled this time, “That can be arranged, anything else?” you eyed him carefully before shaking your head no. one child and then you could escape with your dragon. It would take a year, maybe two, and then you’d be free. “Good. I shall have them draw up a treaty. But in the meantime,” he said, grabbing your ass so suddenly you gasped, “I want some kind of reassurance you won’t back out,”

“And what’s that?” you asked through gritted teeth.

“I want to fuck you,” he said making the words dry up in your throat, “And if I didn’t know any better id say you wanted me too,”

“And if I say no?” you asked.

Jace dropped his grip, but a smirk fell on his lips as he began to walk away. “Then no deal,” he said, reaching for the door.

“Wait!” you called, reaching out to grab his arm. Jace turned his gaze back to you with a knowing smirk, “I suppose if you are to be my husband. The gods, they’d understand,” you said, trying to rationalise it all.

Jace moved closer to you till his chest was flush against yours, “I’m sure they’d understand after all,” he said, pushing the hair out of your face, “Who could blame you for wanting some pleasure in your life?” he said, his hand trailing down till he grabbed your tit, squeezing it softly, “Why would something that feels so good be so wrong?” he whispered in your ear, his hand traveling lower to your thighs, toying with the hem of his dress.

His lips moved to kiss down your jaw, across your neck till he was kissing your undiscovered sweet spot making you moan softly. His arms moved to slip around your waist, pulling you somehow closer to him as your hands rested on his shoulders. You gasped when he squeezed your ass and winced at the quick slap, he gave it before his hands moved to the hem of your dress.

The cold air rushed over your frame, making your nipples harden as Jace pulled the dress over your head in one swoop. The only thing to cover you was your necklace but right now that felt even worse. Jace’s eyes travelled your frame, soaking up every inch, “The gods have blessed me with you,” he murmured.

“You do not know the gods,” you glared but Jace just chuckled as his hands went to cup your tits, stroking his thumbs over your perked nipples making you whimper.

“Perhaps you don’t either,” he said as he led you by your hips to your bed. He sat on it, his hands resting on your hips as he pulled you into his lap.

His lips moved to your collarbones, kissing and nipping at the soft skin. Your brain told you to push him away, but a strange feeling was overcoming your body as his hands moved to your hips. You could feel a hard bulge under his trousers as he began to move your hips, pushing your core onto his clothed cock. You moaned at the friction, his bulge rubbing perfectly against your clit sending shock waves up your body.

Soon you felt your hips begin to buck and move of their own accord. You felt his smirk against your skin as his hands moved to your tits. You gasped when he pinched your nipples, rolling them between his fingers making you moan. “Oh god,” you couldn’t help the moan that slipped out when he took one into his mouth, sucking on the perked bud.

You weren’t sure what had come over you, but you felt a knot tightening in your stomach, your moans growing louder as you took the gods in vain at the top of your lungs. You felt your peak hit you like a boulder before you slumped into Jace’s chest.

He moved to kiss your cheek with a chuckle. “Not even fucked you yet and look at you,” Jace said, slipping his hand down to rub against your sensitive core making your body lurch, “So wet for me,” he praised, his hand moving to unlace his trousers. “Can’t wait to see what my cock does to you,”

Before you could protest you felt his tip pressing into your entrance. You gasped, your hands moving to grab his shoulders, “Aw,” Jace pouted, “Does it hurt?” he mocked, pushing you down further, “Too fucking bad,” he practically growled as he used your hips to push you all the way down.

You almost screamed at the feeling, as if you were being split in half but Jace groaned, throwing his head back against the wall as you felt his cock twitch inside you, “Fuck you’re so tight,” he praised, giving you a moment to adjust. Your hips betrayed you again, moving without your mind thinking making him chuckle.

“Such a desperate little thing,” Jace mocked, grabbing your jaw as you tried to move away. His thumb ran over your bottom lip before using it to pry your mouth open, resting it on your tongue, “Good girl,” he praised, his free hand moving your hips.

“Fuck,” you gasped as you felt him hit all the right spots. You gave up trying to resit as your hips began to grind onto his cock.

Jace’s hands moved to your hair, grabbing it suddenly and pulling it back so he could have full access to your neck. You were sure by the way he kissed it there would be marks tomorrow but that didn’t matter now. Your hands went to his hair, tugging it softly making him growl against your skin.

His free hand went to your ass, grabbing it tightly before suddenly leaving stinging slaps against the soft flesh. You could feel your second peak fast approaching and when Jace moved to run quick circles against your sensitive bundle of nerves you felt your cunt squeeze around him as it came crashing down again.

“Fuck,” Jace mumbled, a stream of profanity tumbling from his lips as his hands moved to your hips so he could fuck you through your orgasm, “You feel so good,” he praised, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

You felt yourself coming down from your high and his movements began to slow, “Don’t stop Jace. Please gods don’t stop,” you began to beg, and you could feel his smirk.

“Begging suits you,” he teased, grabbing your jaw so he could make you face him, “You look so good right now. So drunk on my cock. Is that it?”

“Yes,” you whined, “I need you please,”

“Aw my poor baby,” he teased, “So desperate for her king,”

“Yes,” you weren’t even thinking any longer, and a spark ignited behind his eyes, “Need you. Want you my king,” you moaned.

Jace grabbed your hips tightly, standing suddenly before turning as you back slammed against the wall. You winced until you felt his hips begin to snap up against yours. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him tight against you. This new angle had him hitting newer spots that had your legs wrapping tight around him.

“So good,” Jace mumbled against your skin as you felt a third orgasm approaching, “My perfect little wife,” his words sent you tumbling over the edge.

Jace couldn’t resist anymore as your cunt squeezed around his cock and with a couple more pumps, he began to spill his seed. His thrusts became slow as he rode out his own peak, fucking his seed deep inside you. You were both panting as he pulled out, his forehead resting against yours as your feet finally hit the ground again.

“I always knew you had a dark side in you,” Jace chuckled as he pulled away.

“Tell anyone and I’ll kill you in your sleep, husband,” you threatened but the last word made him smile. Maybe this was a good trade after all.

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[frogchiro]

I dunno why but like I’ve just been thinking right what if Makarov with reader who was being held at the same prison ( god knows why we won’t question that rn 😭 ) and after breaking him he takes the lil squad and goes to break reader out

There is one of the voice lines of Makarov in the game when you choose him as an operator that goes "Someone of your talent belongs at my side" and oh dear gOD this has inspired me so much😭

Okay so I kinda imagine this as some kind of 'what if?' scenario where basically Hackergirl's life goes terribly, no good, very bad wrong. After getting noticed and caught doing hacker work due to one life-changing slip up, instead of getting recruited by Laswell and eventually into the 141, you get thrown into Zordaya Prison and are left to rot.

You can imagine how hard the life was for someone who barely reached adulthood to live in such conditions and now that you're in your early twenties you're just full of resentment. You don't want to survive anymore, you want revenge, but what can you do? You'll probably die in this shithole sooner than later either from the cold or form poisoning from the garbage they call food.

Unbeknownst to you, you caught the eye of a certain russian who heard quite the things about a young and promising hacker while he was still free and now that he was incarcerated in the very same prison as you, he made sure to learn about you everything, you became his obsession so to speak.

So imagine your surprise and horror one faithful day when you hear many voices screaming and barking orders, soldiers and prison guards running amok and shots getting fired, then even more screams and alarms going off howling like crazy.

You're no soldier, you know that and if you make any noise you'll probably die; you don't want to die. You're scared.

Imagine being curled up in a corner of your cell, your breath quick and your heart feels as if it will jump right out of your chest with how quickly it flutters before it finally hitches when you notice a dark shadow loom over you. It was the tattooed man you've heard about. The russian devil some called him; Makarov.

You stared silently at him, your wide (e/c) eyes never moving away from him as his dark brown eyes bored into yours. After what seemed like hours of just staring at the large male outside your cell and those eerie eyes looking at you as if searching your soul, finally two soldiers came and started opening your cell door.

You recognized what they were doing, trying to get to you. Pushing your back flat against the farthest wall of your cell, you started hyperventilating. No. No no no, thi-this can't be it. You have things to do, things to finish and now instead of dying in a cold cell you'll be kicked and beaten to death like a street mutt. No.

"Please no-" but before you could finish your sentence, the man, Makarov, entered the room in absolute silence and as if he commanded every particle in it. He stopped a few paces away from you before offering you a hand, the same eerie look on his face and the words escaping his mouth that changed your life:

"Someone of your talent belongs at my side".

[thatbitchery]

& remember the first sign of a loser loser loser loser is hating school. Yall should've unfollowed me 2023 this year I'm laying it on you as is.

If you're not in some sort of murder level clas enroll right now. & it has to be so hard it feels like a death sentence

Ladies any form of "escape the matrix" and "you don't need school" & whatever school hating content out there is level down programming meant to keep you stuck and weak. School is the closest imitation to real life you get so dropping a class because it's too hard is your sign to tie yourself to your moms basement and never leave because you sure as heaven not making it in corporate, business, friendships, relationships, and, God Forbid, parenting. You Manifest a future as a stone because that's the most you can do with that mentality. Dropping out because you have anxiety is another great sign to move to the Amazon and cosplay a sloth because if you think there are human interactions in the adult world that won't make you feel anxious ahhh baby my baby. You got it so wrong, baby. If you can't focus in a 30 minute lesson just take your dream board & burn it up burn it upp and try your hand at being a house fly you'll have better luck. If you drop a class because you don't like the teacher stay as far away from romantic relationships and friendships and , especially, corporate & entrepreneurship because girly don't we have news for ya. Can't manage your time? And you want to be a CEO? Are you kidding?

School is the closest imitation to real life you get & the better you are at it the better you are at life, the harder your school life is the better your real life will be. & I mean take biochem engineering & aeronautical engineering first year college, get your ass run over by it BUT learn to sit still, to power through, teamwork, study techniques, etc so no one cares about your A [fun fact most A students don't make it] but did you power through it? K then junior year do the thing you actually like.

Not liking school for whatever reason is loser mentality if you couldn't make it past test drive what makes you think you'll make it on the highway. Back in high-school when I told my grandma I'm giving up on my scholarship because I'm getting bullied and tortured and ostracized her response wasn't a hug it was a slipper grandma of color style because do you think that won't happen in your adulthood? You think you run from a problem and it goes away? Go back in and make it tf. Notice how I'm not focused on what grade you get? My friend works at firm (one of the top of the country) that don't employ people with a history of As , it's not about academic excellence, can you get to cheer practise at 6 am and be in class by 7? What makes you think you can be a mom then? "Independent" can you schedule yourself? Manage classes, sports, hobbies, a part-time job, home chores , friendships, and free time? WHAT DO YOU THINK ADULTHOOD IS ABOUT? what makes you think running from that in school (where you have guidance & forced community) will keep you safe? Out here you're all alone sis. And now the government protects you like a treasure that ID days 18 and its up to you to protect yourself. If you can not sit still in a 30 minutes class you don't like what makes you think you're cut out for corporate? Yall ain't never left your moms house and it shows, no one that has been in the real world has that level of delulu.

Pick the damn calculus class & power from an E to a C- so when you're running your business & you meet hard things you dislike you have muscle memory to power through it & bc your business is something you like it's easier. Go to school with the girls that dislike you & find a way out of that so when your mom in law or officemates are being flaky you know what to do, you don't run. Sit through that class with that one homphobic sexist bigoted teacher so when you land a job at your dream firm you don't resign in six days and sabotage shit because you're delulu enough to think your little tantrum matters.

School , especially boarding school, is the closest imitation to real life you get. Power through it, take advantage of the resources & always chase the hardships now that you have people charged with guiding you so you're not 25 unmotivated with no accomplishment despite your A's , barely functional adult feeling like a loser because you let tiktok & escape the matrix bojo creators lie to you. Do you want to be one of those 35 year olds heavy on magical thinking because you didn't learn what your parents literally paid for you to learn under the guise of 'self care'. Don't be dumb dumb.

Success spills over

[sunflowersandsapphires]

What Goes Up

Small Creatures, Chapter 3

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pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: Matt Murdock always assumed he’d never meet his soulmate. After all, who would want to end up stuck with a blind vigilante carrying enough baggage for a whole jet? Unfortunately for you both, his cursed love is closer than ever and determined to support him as his paradoxical life falls apart.

warnings:  swearing, Matt being a grump, Matt doubting himself, mentions of canon typical violence, one very brief mention of vomit, fluff

a/n: HI EVERYONE! I am so sorry for being so absent this month. I dislocated my knee, spent 2 months getting a doctor to agree to fix my dislocated knee, and also bought a house. What a time. ANYWAYS here are two of my loves for you all to enjoy. This chapter is mostly Matt.

w/c: 4.1k

A soft breeze waltzed over your skin, making a skipping sound as it hopped around you. It whirled toward him, carrying the subtle powdery scent of your skin, the aroma left behind from various soaps and lotions. 

It mingled with the smell of freshly cooked pasta, tomatoes and salt, the taste of potatoes bursting across his tongue. A source of deadly comfort, like the magnetic pull of unconsciousness when one is bleeding out. Warm and tempting–with a jagged, perilous edge. 

Thudding steadily, your pulse looped through his ears. Too quick for his liking, but solid and real nonetheless. 

“...did you feel it?” Your heart thumped consistently, providing a ticking rhythm underneath your question.

“Yes.” He murmured, in awe of your ethereal presence. Something about you seemed intangible and hazy, as if you were made of mist.

“So, that means we're...” Your pulse grew louder, booming in his ears as your body flooded with adrenaline. Inhaling sharply, Matt grimaced as the acrid taste of cortisol slipped beneath the weight of carbs on his tongue. 

Across from him, you began to fold in on yourself, breath coming in rapid pants. Panic flared in his own chest. A shrill whistle somersaulted in his ears, piercing the soft tissue of his ear drum. The mouthful of pasta he had yet to swallow dissipated into tiny, ashen granules. As he took a harsh breath, his throat constricted, his lungs fighting for air.

“We’re…” You repeated, your mellow voice distorted by the thundering in your rib cage. With each sprinting beat of your heart, you trembled, bones rattling together like chattering teeth. 

Someone was choking. He couldn’t tell which of you it was–too distracted by the sound of crackling, gasping breaths. 

Continuing to hunch over, you backed away from him, afraid. The muscles in your legs creaked as you tensed up, desperate to escape him. Your terror was palpable, sticking to him with invisible barbs, forcing distance between you.

Oh Matty, He flinched as a gnarled hand gripped his shoulder. His former mentor’s hoarse, mocking tone freezing him in place. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Love is a death sentence, nothin’ more.

Warmth spread over his fingers as a thick, crimson liquid seeped toward him. He scrambled away from the slick puddle, angling his head away from the metallic smell as it drew tears from his eyes. The blood wasn’t his. It wasn’t his. 

With a jolt, Matt erupted out of bed, a gurgling echo repeating in his ears. His lungs ached as he fought to catch his breath. Clenching fistfuls of silk sheets, he rested his forehead atop his knees, exhales coasting over the goosebumps dotting his flesh. With a shudder, he ripped free of the tangled blankets, toppling out of bed. 

Water. He needed water. Something to clear the charred taste of blood and flour from his throat. 

Dragging himself into the kitchen, he fumbled for a glass with clammy hands, nearly dropping it in the process. Pull yourself together, kid.

His teeth ground together in frustration as Matt tossed back a mouthful of lukewarm tap water, ignoring the horridly familiar metallic taste. Carefully setting the cup on his counter, his pinky brushed against the edge of a scrap of paper before he recoiled guiltily. 

Your business card. Rather, the card you’d given him “in case he needed to contact you.”

In a moment of overwhelming optimism, he’d scanned the sliver of cardstock with a screen reader, noting the number on his laptop. After a drink, or three, he’d mustered the nerve to call. It was possible the voices in his head were blowing your reaction out of proportion and you truly wanted him to reach out. 

Or so he’d hoped, until reaching an automated “out of service” message instead of a politely nervous photographer. Twice. 

Slamming a thumb down to end the call, he’d hurled the card across the room, where it had fluttered to a halt on his kitchen counter. He hadn’t been man enough to truly throw it away. 

Of course it was a fake number. You didn’t want him. Who on earth would ever want him? You felt obligated to thank a stranger because he’d saved you from serious harm. Isn’t that exactly what you’d said?

“I just wanted to show my appreciation for the other night.” 

Matt should’ve known better than to let his hopes run wild.

Murdock men weren’t destined for love. They had the Devil in them, just like his grandmother always said, and there was no way anyone out there would ever choose the Devil.

Turning his palms to the ceiling, Matt squeezed his eyelids shut, hoping the motion would clear the disgusting gritty feeling he’d been battling for hours after the dream. Losing sleep always dried his eyes out, every blink irritating them further. Add another night without rest, and he started suppressing migraines. He was in for a treat this week, no doubt.

The solution was less simple than it seemed. He wasn’t choosing to lay awake for hours on end thinking about you. He’d much rather lose consciousness than relive the horrific sound of your voice cracking, your anxious pulse when he’d grabbed your hand without thinking. You were terrified of him. Rightfully so, he supposed. You’d had the misfortune of meeting him as Daredevil.

If things were different, if you’d met him as Matt Murdock, maybe it would’ve worked out. Maybe he could’ve locked the suit away, pursued another path. But that wasn’t God’s plan.

With an aching arm, Matt stretched towards his nightstand as he blearily fumbled for the compact plastic clock residing on it. Grasping it with one hand, he pressed the button along its side, grimacing at the mechanical voice that screamed back at him.

“SIX OH TWO A.M.”

A more reasonable waking time than when he’d checked two hours ago. Digging the heels of his hands into his eye sockets, he groaned as the muscles in his abdomen bulged against bruised skin. Dozens of broken blood vessels stretched with his torso as he sat up, protesting the whole way. He’d be lucky if he could walk without constant wincing. Foggy was going to kill him.

The short walk between his loft and the office cemented his sour mood. Navigating the city with a cane was frustrating on a good day–the infamous New York City apathy leading to people tripping over the thing, ramming into him from every direction, and screaming at him for using a mobility aid. Heaven forbid disabled people live in urban areas. Didn’t they know random Wall Street broker number 7 had places to be?

Gritting his teeth against every jostling movement and snippy comment, Matt nearly howled back when a massive dog tackled him against a shop window, barking angrily at him and slobbering all over his tie as the owner tried to pull the creature off his hips.

“He’s friendly, I promise!” She yelled over the deafening roar of the dog, dragging him away by the scruff of his neck.

Matt said nothing, stalking the final few blocks to their building, failing to ignore the ringing in his ears and lingering musk of the dog hair littering his shirt. Shoving at the exterior door with his shoulder, Matt narrowly avoided breaking his nose on the musty glass panel when the entrance refused to budge. Guess it was too early for maintenance’s opening shift.

Growling under his breath, he dug out his keys, unlocking the door hastily and stomping up the stairs.

Most days, stepping foot into the office filled him with a sense of pride. The ramshackle space was a representation of everything he’d accomplished, the payoff of years of hard work courtesy of both himself and Foggy. It wasn’t overly spacious. There was barely enough room for their daily onslaught of new clients–the excess body heat making the sputtering AC tremble with exertion. The suite was perpetually dusty and home to more than a few pests, but it was theirs. Most days, that was enough for Matt.

Today though, all Matt could focus on was the scent of mildew wafting up from the ancient carpet and the aggressive scrabbling of tiny claws in the building’s walls. Prying his tie from around his neck, he rolled his shoulders, collapsing into his second-hand office chair with a groan. Rifling through the files in his bag, he withdrew the flimsy folder containing their firm’s notes on an ongoing guardianship case.

This specific file wouldn’t lighten his mood in the slightest, but it had been nagging at him for days. The client had requested their assistance only about a week ago, looking for someone to help him revoke his court appointed guardian–his mother.

After an accident on the highway left him nearly entirely paralyzed, Mr. Sandoval had endured years of reconstructive surgeries and other invasive medical practices, unable to properly advocate for himself when his only known form of communication was ripped away from him. Contrary to the story his mother had pitched to the judge, he was capable of making his own decisions, he just required certain technological accommodations to speak his mind.

While under the guardianship of his mother, he was intentionally kept from any text-to-speech tools and subjected to emotional, as well as financial, abuse that his parent claimed was punishment for driving under the influence. Mr. Sandoval had been stripped of his autonomy and dignity because of a rushed court order and blatant ableism from the court officials. Matt and Foggy had readily agreed to represent him when he challenged the existing ruling.

But the case was proving to be more frustrating than they’d first imagined. None of the judges within the jurisdiction were willing to sympathize with someone who had committed what they deemed as an immoral act. The fact that he was not simply the cause but the only survivor of the crash always sealed his fate. Yet Matt was determined to keep trying.

Persistence was one of his few remaining virtues.

He was so engrossed in the paperwork, fingers flying over the lines of braille repeatedly as he grew more enraged, that he didn’t hear the office door open.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” Came Foggy’s cheerful greeting.

Matt groaned in response, earning him a laugh. “I see someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed. If you ended up in bed at all last night. Geez, Matt, you’re carrying a family of suitcases under those eyes.”

“Good to know.” Matt muttered, not moving from his hunched position. “I’ll get right on that.”

“You know, for a professional liar, you need to step up your fibbing game, Murdock.” His friend exhaled forcefully, planting two palms on Matt’s desk as he leaned forward. “You look like microwaved crap.”

Chuckling in surprise, Matt flapped a hand over his chest in feigned gratitude. “You really know how to boost a guy’s ego, bud. Really lifting my spirits here.” 

“Stop deflecting.” Foggy hissed, his glare surely intense enough to drill two parallel holes in Matt’s skull. “How late were you out last night?”

And that was the other half of the issue. After failing to reach you and properly introduce himself, he’d been too busy spiraling to fill his best friend in on recent events. Now, so much time had passed that the omission seemed deliberate. If he asked Foggy for advice now, would their firm survive another argument about honesty? Matt doubted it. 

He could still hear Foggy’s trust being torn to bits in his living room, the other man’s voice quivering with hurt and thinly veiled fury as he interrogated Matt. 

“What the hell do I know about Matt Murdock?”

Letting Foggy assume he’d been losing sleep over crime in the city seemed less harmful somehow.

Shuddering against the crowning mass of guilt in his abdomen, he shrugged. 

“Late.” His reply was clipped, anything beyond curt would give away the battle raging within him. “Didn’t mean to be, it just happened.”

At least that much was true. 

“For fuck’s sake, Matt, you’re going to kill yourself gallivanting around in those stupid pajamas–”

“Not pajamas.” Matt interrupted, not bothering to hide his smirk when Foggy grumbled over him. 

“Getting stabbed by whatever low lives are lurking in the shadows. And I’m, what, supposed to pretend you aren’t scaring the shit out of me?” Skin chafed along denim as Foggy’s hands landed on his hips. 

Fiddling with a torn corner of the case file, he swallowed the lump crawling up his throat. “Foggy, I’m–” 

“You’re not, Matt!” His partner exclaimed, tossing his hands in the air with exasperation and worry.

“Not what?” A second voice asked, the question light and curious, rather than filled with weeks of resentment and strife. 

Both men whirled towards the open door in surprise, no doubt giving Karen an amusing spectacle, jaws dropping to the floor as they stared toward her.

“Uh–” Foggy blurted out, head swishing between the pair of them indecisively. 

“Well..” Matt grimaced, threading his fingers into his hair as he desperately sought out a response. Unfortunately for his quick wit, exhaustion had coated his brain–the metaphorical wheels within screeching to a halt. Before he could even close his gaping mouth, Foggy had come to his rescue.

“Not letting me pay for coffee! Seeing as he totally foiled my plan to get here before both of you and hold my diligence over your head for the rest of the day.” Foggy sighed wistfully, no doubt dreaming of the high horse he wasn’t able to hop on.

Hands stilling over a line of text, Matt gave an exasperated huff. “You’re relentless, you know that?”

“It’s been mentioned.” Foggy smiled, grabbing Matt by the elbow and towing him out of the office. “Karen, hold down the fort, will ya?”

Karen scoffed, slightly miffed as the two men made their escape. Still being dragged by the fabric of his shirt, Matt dug his heels into the gritty carpet, yanking free of his friend’s grasp. 

“She’s not gonna just let this go, Fog.” Hand fumbling for the bannister, he began his trek down the creaky stairs, Foggy hot on his heels. 

“Well considering that someone has a certain illegal alter-ego she can’t know about, I’m not quite sure what I can do to remedy that.” Foggy griped, footsteps harsher than normal as the pair descended to the lobby. 

Matt’s teeth clenched together as the stiffness in his jaw grew increasingly tight. “I’m sorry, Foggy. Truly, I–”

“Yah, yah, you’re sorry. I got it.” Foggy snapped, whisking past him to open the lobby door. With a sigh, he extended his arm for Matt to grasp. “Just…promise me you’ll rest tonight? You and I both know it’s been quieter this month, and I’m not kidding, dude. You’re like a walking Ambien ad.”

Accepting Foggy’s elbow, Matt hummed thoughtfully. “For you, buddy? I’ll try.” 

Matt was trying. He was. 

In the interest of keeping his promise to Foggy, he’d planned on executing a quick loop around the kitchen before heading back to his loft to crash. Somehow, after his third useless tussle with a criminal, he’d actually followed through. Heaving trembling breaths, he stood on the roof of his building, rivulets of blood trailing down his limbs and onto the concrete at his feet. He had no idea if the crimson liquid was his or someone else’s. Probably both.

Cool air coasted over the tip of his nose, making his nostrils flare with a sigh. The tiny reprieve from the sweltering heat made him sink to the ground, following the trail of air desperately. His knees collided with concrete, sending a tremor through his bones. Head swimming, he flattened his palms along the rough surface, clenching his jaw against the roiling nausea in his stomach.

The Kitchen hadn’t been too active tonight, his last wild goose chase ended with him landing a well-aimed punch into a drunk man’s uneasy stomach, causing the guy to spill his guts across the pavement and Matt’s shoes. He’d have to throw this pair out. No amount of detergent or vigorous scrubbing would remove the scent of partially digested alcohol from the tightly woven fabric. Letting his own bile escape his sealed mouth would certainly not help the issue.

Swallowing roughly, he inhaled a slow breath, the devil whirling amidst the chaos within him. Starving for a fight, for a chance to be set free. Every cell within him was wound too tight, the primal need to unleash something strangling him, exacerbating the pounding in his head and sloshing in his gut. 

On days like these, he missed her. His other half. The only person to witness his rage and accept it wholly, not shying away or asking him to dampen it. In fact, she encouraged it. Taking him to Fogwell’s, begging him to throw a punch her way, to surprise her.

That night in the ring, he’d shown her his mark. After they’d sparred–and practically devoured each other–during the brief moment of peace, he’d revealed the one thing he managed to keep from his childhood. And, with a kiss, Elektra had told him they were soulmates.

She believed it, too. At least, that’s what her heart had told him–so Matt was willing to do anything to stay with her. Indulge her every whim. Fail his classes and abandon his future if he had to, anything for her.

But it wasn’t enough. She still left. They always did. Whatever demon the clergy had failed to exorcize when he was a child had matured, mutated. Dripping fangs and barbed claws whirling around within him. Insatiable. Pushing her away.

She’d abandoned him. Leaving him alone, like his mother had his father. It was almost poetic, the way he followed in his dad’s footsteps.

His mother. His father. Stick. Elektra. Foggy had returned for now, but Matt would inevitably lose him and Karen too. Everyone he’d ever loved, gone because he was too much to bear. 

A monster, a martyr, a pariah. 

Nobody feels sorry for you and nobody ever will. Stick’s nasally voice taunted him, dancing around his head when he desperately shook it. He was wrong. Foggy and Karen cared. They did. 

You sure about that, kid?

With a deep growl, he drew back a fist, driving it into the pavement. Knuckles quivering upon impact, he curled his other hand, mirroring the motion. The noise of the city faded into a distant hum, drowned out by the rush of blood in his ears. Hit after hit landed on the stagnant target, scraping away layers of skin and testing the strength of his bones. Without realizing it, his mouth opened, a barbaric roar tumbling from his vocal chords until they ached. 

Relationships are a luxury men like you and me can't afford.

Stick was wrong. He had to be. 

Hazy memories flowed over him, like a shallow current of water he was face down in, seeping into his mouth and lungs–ridding them of breath. A brief glimpse of his father’s smile, the feeling of a hand vigorously ruffling his hair. The press of plush, warm lips against his as a whiff of jasmine perfume made heat coil in his gut. The cool, clammy exterior of a beer bottle in his grip as Foggy and Karen bickered good-naturedly across the table. 

You’ll be the death of ‘em, Matty. Every one of ‘em.

His cry dwindled to a rasp as the scent of copper slid over his tongue, his blood staining the cement as the skin across his knuckles split. Heaving breaths shook his torso, pained whines shuddering through him as he crawled towards the half-wall, sinking against the cool brick.

It was all too much. The blaring horns and the stifling heat and the musty scent of half-charred cigarettes. The pulsating weight in his sinuses and the sharp tang of lingering vomit spilled over his shoes. The frustrations of a difficult case and a failing justice system, only made worse by sleep deprivation and overstimulation. He wanted it to stop, all of it. Just one moment where the world wasn’t turning and time wasn’t passing and he was allowed to catch his fucking breath. To exist without feeling like a goddamn burden. To love and be loved without it feeling wrong and full of tension.

His shoulders bumped against the stiff surface he had propped himself on, trembling with the movement of his lungs. He couldn’t quite tell if he was laughing or crying. Did it matter anymore?

The stern voice of his former mentor struck him like a branding rod.

Never were strong enough, were you?

His meaning was left unsaid, though Matt heard it anyway. Not strong enough to keep his mind from unraveling. Not strong enough to be a soldier for his war. Not strong enough to keep him around–not strong enough to keep anyone around.

Fists clenching against the despair building in his chest, he tilted his head up towards the heavens, silently begging for guidance. His prayer was rewarded by a pelting droplet smacking his forehead. Pure, untainted water began to weep from the sky, slinking through the seams of his suit and crawling over his skin. The moisture soaked into the suit, forcing the material to cling to him forcefully. 

A hand flew up towards his chest as it clenched painfully, his breaths became shallow and quick, as if his body had forgotten how to process oxygen. He couldn’t do this anymore.

Staggering for the door to his loft, he heaved the slab of metal open, cringing as it slammed closed behind him. The suit was ripped off, piece by never-fucking-ending piece hitting the floor of his place with an echoing slap. Finding them all again would be tedious, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. As his thick-soled boots finally left the staircase, touching down on the floorboards below, his mind was buzzing as it tried to sort through the dozens of stimuli. 

The static of a TV blaring through a busted speaker in an apartment down the hall.

The piercing scream of a baby being sleep trained a few blocks away, apparently not ready to self-soothe.

The patter of an anxious heartbeat darting past his window, the thrum mingling with the pounding rain. Familiar and absolutely haunting. 

A pained cry escaped him, hands whipping over his ears as he tried to drown it out. He needed to focus on something else, anything else.

But it was too late. As if he’d been teleported back to that moment, he once again stood before his soulmate as she agonized over their bond. It didn’t matter that he was crumpled in a ball on the floor of his loft, he could still hear that same tuft of air careening toward him, carrying the scent of powdery soaps and saline. It mingled with the acidic smell of tomatoes draped over pasta, the taste of potatoes lingering on his tongue. Tantalizingly warm and comforting, but cursed all the same.  

Your hesitant pulse looped through his ears, matching the one scurrying down the block. Too quick. Far too quick for his liking, but no longer solid or real. A figment of his imagination, taunting him with a life he’d never live.

“...did you feel it?” 

This wasn’t happening. He wasn’t with you. Your heart wasn’t convulsing wildly, supplying a horrifying rhythm beneath your question.

“Yes.” 

Only God could judge him for speaking the words aloud. He was too desperate to keep you near, to hold onto the last remaining sliver of your ethereal presence. You were fading from his grasp, falling through his outstretched fingers like grains of sand. 

“So, that means we're...” 

He braced himself for impact, for the booming stream of beats exiting your anxious heart. The same soundtrack that had been interrupting his sleep at night because he was practically sick from the crippling guilt and his own pathetic misfortune. 

Instead of growing louder, saturating his brain until he could feel each contraction of your heart, your pulse began to fade–as if…

Gritting his teeth, Matt straightened his posture, trying to pinpoint the sound. It took a moment, his exhausted brain sorting through each stimuli like a slug sorting rocks, slowly and inaccurately. Eventually, he found it–a few blocks away now, accompanied by stifled sobs and shallow breaths as the person darted through an entryway. 

This wasn’t a memory, this was real. 

Unless Matt had lost the final ounce of sanity he’d managed to cling to all this time, it wasn’t some random woman barreling down the streets of Manhattan, just out of his reach. It was you. And every bone in his body was convinced that something was very, very wrong. 

Taglist: @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @marytheweefrenchie @cheshirecat484 @siampie @xxdrixx @gracethyomen @screechingphantommaker @spiderstyles04 @paradox-brody-chase @blue-devil-of-the-lord @yarrystyleeza @sarahskywalker-amidala @lotrefcp @silas-aeiou @harleycao

[strangesthirdeye]

ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ʀᴇsᴛ ɴᴏᴡ (sᴇᴠᴇʀᴜs sɴᴀᴘᴇ x ᴡɪғᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

Summary: Till Death Do Us Apart

Warning: IT'S SEVERUS SNAPE. i love writing angst for him. Wife reader, heavy angst, Deathly Hallow part 2, Blood, Secret wife and daughter, Sad, wounds, acceptance, major character death.

As usual, I'm sorry if there are any wrong sentences or typos or grammatical mistakes, please forgive me and again English is not my first language, so I try to improve my language and writing in this way.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Harry rushes forward, into the strange, wavering light, then stops in horror, watching Severus’ blood run like syrup over the weathered boards toward him.

Ron bumps past, heading in the direction Voldemort took. Hermione pauses by Harry. Harry kneels by Severus. He lays his fingers upon the bloody wound at his neck, but it’s no use. Severus' eyes shift and, briefly, look deep into Harry’s. And then he begins to... Cry.

Harry is stunned at this sudden emotion. As long as he knows Severus, he has never seen any kind of emotion show on his face. Let alone see him cry.

Severus' breath gasped as he gasped for oxygen. Trying to muster himself to speak. "take them" Severus whispered, tears running down his cheeks.

Harry looked at him confused and hesitant. He didn't understand what Severus meant.

Severus gestured towards his wet cheeks. "Take them" he said again.

Severus' face shuddered softly and his tears transformed, from clear water to silvery blue. Harry reacts to the color. He’s seen it before. Suddenly Severus grabs his collar, pulls him close.

"Please" Severus choked, he holds Harry captive briefly, then drops back to the floor.

Harry blinks, shaken. He then turned toward Hermione who witnessed these seemingly broken moments.

"Give me something! Quickly! A flask! Anything." He shouted.

Instantly, Hermione conjures a flask from thin air before giving it to Harry who took it with his trembling hands. Hands trembling, Harry presses it to Severus' ashen cheek, letting the fluid flow within. Severus stared at James double for a moment. He can feel himself fade away from this world but he needs to hold on a little longer as he was waiting for someone he means to meet before he goes. One last time. He wants to hear her voice one last time.

Harry still took in Severus' tears. His other hand still pressing against Severus wound in the neck. Blood poured out of Severus' chest non-stop. Every blood that flows is how close his death is.

"They are the same."

Harry searches Snape’s face, trying to decipher his words. Snape stares at Harry in wonder, lost in his eyes, then his pupils dilate, his voice trailing off.

"You have your mother's eyes" he whispered.

He remembers his best friend's eyes. Lily Evans. Now he feels guilty for what he did in his past life. Had he known that Voldemort would kill Harry's parents, he surely would apparate and bring them all to another safer place even though he hates James but he knows that Lily is happy with him. He no longer has feelings for Lily because he already has someone who understands him. Someone who makes him happy. Severus eyes fixed on Harry's eyes.

Harry was silent as he stared at his former potions teacher. A crack of someone's apparate could be heard behind Hermione as Hermione pointed her wand at whoever appeared cautiously.

There stood a woman who was the same age as Severus who wore black robes with dark pants. Her E/c fixed on the scene in front of her. Her face is smudged with ashes and cuts. Her hair is messy. The mysterious woman widened her eyes before rushing towards Severus' side and kneeling beside him.

Harry looked at the woman skeptically. The woman seems out of breath but then she suddenly lets out a gasped as she takes a place where Harry is. Harry moved himself aside letting the woman take his place. The vial in his hand was held tightly. She put her hand on Severus' wound. Pressing it gently. Severus' glossy eyes fixed on the woman beside him. He smiled faintly though Harry could see that Severus was smiling at the woman.

"hey" She choked on her tears but maintained her tearful smile.

"Hey" Severus' muttered, his energy is getting lower and lower.

"It's okay.. We'll be okay" the woman whispered.

Hermione's cheeks are wet with tears as she witnesses this. She didn't know who this woman was or what her relationship was with Severus, but she assumed that this woman was someone Severus had known for a long time. Someone he has known since the first wizardry war.

Severus mustered up his energy to wipe the tears on the woman's cheeks with his thumb. He smiles with guilt. The guilt that he had to leave this incredible woman. His hands limped back to his side. He can feel himself getting colder.

"Tell her that I love her so much.. That I'm sorry that I can't go home.. " Severus choked on his own blood.

"She'll understand.. She is smart like her father. And she knows that you love her so much" the woman was only able to smile reassuringly at Severus as if she didn't want to be sad at his last moment.

'What? Is she married to Snape?' Harry eyes fixed on the woman's hand where there was a silver ring that simply resided on the woman's finger. Light shone on the ring. Harry looked at the woman in disbelief. This woman is Snape's wife. Secret wife to be exact.

Severus' eyes began to lose the spark of life. His eyes stared at the woman's face longingly.

"I'm sorry that my journey stopped here.. I should have been with you, always" Severus muttered. His voice getting smaller and smaller as the life comes out of him slowly.

The woman moved her free hand to brush away the strands of hair from Severus' face, she let out a shaky breath.

"I understand that your journey stops here. You have done all kinds of incredible things. This is your time to rest, my love.. It's okay, you can rest now" She moved and kissed the corner of his lips genuinely. Her eyes are closed as she savors the feeling of his pale skin that is getting colder. One last kiss.. is all he wants before he goes.

And Severus' body goes stiff. His eyes glazed over in space in front of him. And the woman let out a broken weeping as she put her head on Severus' shoulder. She knows that he's gone judging by the lack of reaction by him. The last life of him passed away, so was his soul leaving his love weeping for him to come back. The woman moved her hand that pressed on the wound on Severus' neck and clutching his robes tightly as she wept on Severus' shoulder.

She didn't care about the blood that stained her robes as long as she was able to hold her lover one last time. The teens who were there looked at the woman with sorrow painted on their faces. The sound of broken sobbing was heard there before the sobbing stopped and only sniffles could be heard.

The woman turned her head towards the two teens there. Eyes red and puffy plus cheeks wet with tears. She let out a shaky breath before speaking.

"Please forgive everything that my husband did to you. He did not mean to do that for he was told to do that for the sake of hiding his true purpose to bring the Dark Lord down. It was so bad and cruel for him to do that and he's really sorry for everything he did to you all.. " the woman said sorrowfully.

Harry and Hermione stared at the woman in sympathy. Hermione stepped forward slowly approaching the woman.

"We forgive him." and those simple words brought a single tear to the woman's cheek.

"please... Take the vial to the pensieve, Harry.. There's so much you need to know in those drops of memories.. Please.. You need to understand it" the woman pleaded, taking Harry's hands and cupped his hands tightly with her bloodstained hands . Her eyes fixed on him.

Harry nodded his head several times before the woman let go of her grasp and let the young man and woman leave the Boathouse.

You turned your body back to Severus. You scooted closer to him and gently closed his glazed eyes. He looks very peaceful like he is sleeping. Sleep that will not wake up. You hugged his body tightly.

[agirlandherquill]

alpha-write

returning to writeblr after a short break has been so enjoyable I thought I'd kick things off by creating a tag game of my own! (since the first one I made people really did seem to enjoy, and it warms my heart) and it's an easy way to ease myself back into the creative flow, so here goes!

rules: for every letter of the alphabet, compose a sentence/short paragraph beginning with that letter

A - "Anything you have to say for yourself? Or is nothing perhaps the better choice for you? How else could you justify the blood on your sleeves?"

B - "Broken. Not bruised, not damaged - You made me broken. That hardly seems fair."

C - "Can we do this?" "Can? We will. We have to. It must be done. Right or wrong, balance must be restored."

D - Dragging a corpse is difficult enough, but when you resemble a corpse yourself? There's some irony in there that even the Gods aren't smart enough to conjure.

E - Everything hurt, everything ached beyond relief, beyond the threshold of pain, until she felt nothing and everything, all at the same time.

F - Forget him? That was a plea she could never answer, could never give light to or thought or hope, to forget was to forgo herself, her feelings, her very being - He was as much a part of her as the air in her lungs - to lose him would be death.

G - "Go." Not a scream, not a growl, but a whisper - a calm command that sent the hairs raising along her skin. For once, she obeyed.

H - How did this happen? How did she forget herself so badly, so stupidly and allow her vulnerabilities to be exposed? Even worse, how could she let him be the one to do it? He knows, and knowing is death. This was the end, for her, she knew it.

I - "If you must be such a pain in the neck could you go about it quietly? One more squeak from the sole of your boot and I will rip those laces out and around your neck. I mean it." "Then give me a reason to stop pacing."

J - Just a kiss. Just. As though the fleeting encounter was nothing more than that, as though it hadn't taken every strength he had within him. To her, it was just a kiss. To him, it was ruin.

K - "Keep running. To stop now is death, is that what you want? Because I will not stop to carry your corpse, I will not stop to remember you. If you falter, you are gone. Do you hear me?"

L - Loathing burned her insides, it sent her skin crawling with heat and her muscles tensing with a carefully restrained scream. She loathed him. That was it. After all this time, she understood it. It was not love, it was loathing.

M - "Marry me." "The last time we tried that... Someone died." "Marry me." He said again, more firmly. "Marry me, or we both die."

N - "Never again." "Why? What was so wrong the first time?" "The dozens of times after that. It cannot happen." "A kiss never got anyone killed." "Then you do not know this Court, and you do not know me."

O - "Opinionated, are we?" "Is this because I told you to your face what a horrifically mannered man you are?" "No, this is because you tried to stab me with a fork." "I missed, didn't I?" "That's hardly the point."

P - Pressing her cheek to his shoulder, she let herself break, let the tears fall and the emotions flow. He said nothing, and neither did she, it was only them and the silence of the lake, and that was enough.

Q - "Question me again and we will see what happens when you try my patience." "Try? I've been getting under your skin for the better part of the day, why haven't you done anything about it?"

R - Rest was a foreign luxury, it had abandoned her body long ago, instead she lay suffocating in boredom and misery until she could bear it no longer, and found herself outside his door.

S - "Step away, out of this room and far from earshot - Do it now, before I see fit to carry you."

T - "Trust me." "Why-" She had no chance to complete her question, he threw her out of the window.

U - Under the stars, all seemed calm, a false calm, but a calm she had long since been craving nonetheless, until his voice, as gentle as the wind, startled her wishful reverie. "Leave if you must, but not without knowing that I love you."

V - Verily, she was done. Her soul was in ruins, her body in tatters, and her heart beat it's last drum.

W - "When you decide to have some compassion, let me know, until then I want nothing to do with you."

X - (if this one's impossible to do, no biggie, skip if necessary) - "Xanthetia is a flower full of poison that could damn well kill you, what are you doing lying in a bed of it?" "The scent is the only thing that helps me sleep."

Y - "You know what you did. As do I. And it's unforgivable." "I do not seek your forgiveness, but I will beg, every day if I must, for the honour of your company." "...We shall see."

Z - "Zealous, insufferable bastard - that's what you are!" "You've said worse, you can say better than that." His smug look riled her up even more. "You are incapable of being loved, you're not worthy of that, only loathing, you despicable, monstrous being!" "Loathe away by all means, I rather enjoy the flush it brings to your face."

i'll make this an open tag as well as include my tag list! (this one's a doozy, so bear with me)

@the-ellia-west @willtheweaver @tildeathiwillwrite @drchenquill @tiredpapergirl

@365runesofthesystem @coffin-hopping @godsmostfuckedupgoblin @a-mimsy-borogove @frostedlemonwriter

@i-do-anything-but-write @r-u-living @thatuselesshuman @lead-to-code @sunflowerrosy

@theaistired @phoenixradiant @autism-purgatory @corinneglass @patheticexcuseforawriter

@missmisanthrope @littlestchildofthemoon @morganxduinn @thebrownleathernotebook @rmhashauthor

@lamuradex @fantasy-things-and-such @glasshouses-and-stones @hattonthehatman @humbly-a-doppelganger

@hopewriteszstuff @ramwritblr @s-pendragon7 @thelastneuron @heartreactor

@ihauntmyhouse @shiningstars-world @scaewolf @just-emis-blog @joeys-piano

@ramitola @yrndrgn @riveriafalll @lawrencespen1777 @theverumproject

@zackprincebooks @justjariel @orion-lacroix @jupiter---daydreams @vinniehorrible

@stars-forever @thewritingautisticat @anaisbebe @whatwewrotepodcast @appleandsnow

@urnumber1star @chaotictravelerrants @andagii-projects @dragmewithyoutonirvana @a-bi-cat-with-books

@fearofahumanplanet @just-a-domesticated-cryptid @attemptingwriter @kitkins13 @ray-writes-n-shit

@theonewholivesinthemovies @rheas-chaos-motivation

[mysumeow]

Hi! I'm new to this but may I request (and this might be a bit specific) Lyney x male/gn reader(whichever you prefer) who has regenerative powers similarly to Ajin (in which they are basically immortal and fully regenerate once they die) and is pretty reckless because of it, I just imagine Lyney not being able to take their eyes of reader due to them getting into lethal trouble most of the time while adventuring. (Love your work :D, Feel free to ignore if not interested)

──Lyney with a reader who's reckless wherever they go and whatever they do.

WARNINGS ❪ Reader death mentioned, reader gets repeatedly injured (very mild descriptions of it). GN pronouns and body. SUMMARY ❪ Reader has the special ability to regenerate whenever they die. Reader has fun with this power, but it's not as fun for the magician they befriended. WORD COUNT ❪ 698 (bullet point list format) A/N ❪ HI ANON IM SORRY FOR TAKING TOO LONG FOR THIS AAAAAAAAA tbh, i dont know this character :c so i based this drabble (?) only on what you described. I hope the reader was reckless enough alhdsfsalkjfhjkldskjaf

BLANK BLOGS DNI

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ 🌷 . . MASTERLIST

⸝⸝⸝

The poor magician is constantly on edge because of your recklessness. And you nearly sent him into cardiac arrest the first time he found out about it.

You were Lyney's stagehand, in charge of rope work and inspecting that the props were firmly attached and in place.

Let’s just say you didn’t check that your safety equipment was correctly secured.

Given that your place of focus was up there, at least 20 meters (65.6 feet) away from the wooden floor, when you fell... It was a rather distressing sight.

Lyney felt beyond guilty about what happened, even if it wasn’t his fault. He was both relieved and bewildered when he found out you were fine?

A fall from that height would render anyone with broken bones beyond repair, and you left the hospital on your own? Without needing a wheelchair or anything?! You walked out of there as if nothing had happened.

“Ohhh, right. I forgot to mention that. For some reason, I can’t die.”

You were immortal, and you were confessing that ability like you were talking about the weather.

“But… But I saw you covered in blood and...” He couldn’t finish his sentence; the mere memory caused chilling goosebumps.

He always keeps an eye on you when you’re about to climb the scaffolding.

“You’re going to get yourself into a mess again,” He worried, rushing to your side once he noticed the hook that goes into your gear seemed flimsy. “This needs a replacement,”

“But your show is tomorrow,” You objected. “Besides, if something happens, I’ll regenerate. No biggie,”

“Your ability is unmatched, but it must still hurt a lot when you get into that trouble,” He insisted, removing the swivel snap hook from the gear before you could further object. “The forge sells these items. It won’t take more than a couple of minutes to buy one,”

Unfortunately for a troublemaker like you, sooner rather than later, the magician picked up on your habit of running into situations.

Once, you came back after lunch with concerning burns on your arms.

“Look, I picked up some bulle fruit. They’re fresh. Want some?”

“What happened? Dear archons, those look like second-degree burns?!”

“I ran into some trouble with some dumb gardemeks. I gave them a good beating,” You boasted. “They did sneak behind me and hurt me, but still,”

“If you want to go after them, go ahead with it,” Lynette said, noticing her brother’s anxious face.

You wielded both a vision and a weapon, so he knew you were more than capable of defending yourself, and yet he couldn’t stop going after you to make sure you were alright.

“Lyney!” You greeted him as you were about to go back to the theater. “What’re you doing here? Ah—don't tell me I took too long to return!”

“None of that. Geez, it’s a miracle I found you in one piece,” He sighed and rubbed his temple. “You’re a magnet for trouble wherever you go,”

“C’mon, I can’t be that bad.” You laughed.

He also remembered that time you were adventuring. You know, being cooped in the city could be boring sometimes.

The sibling’s schedules were free for that couple of days and thought it would be a fun experience.

The moment they finished setting up the tents, they noticed you had run off somewhere without them knowing.

“Do you guys think these berries are edible?”

Spoiler: they weren’t…

Often, it’s Lyney bandaging you up.

It was customary for Lyney and Lynette to carry bandages and band-aids with them when they rehearsed their show. It’s not uncommon for blisters to appear on any part of their body after an intense rehearsal or to sprain an ankle occasionally.

Now, having you around, there was even more reason to store them.

Before you could scurry away from him, Lyney called you with a stern voice.

The usual flirty and teasing side of the magician disappears when he catches you trying to hide a cut or a scrape.

“’Tis but a small cut,” You assured, laughing nervously. “O-Ow—!”

The disinfectant stung as he applied it to your jaw. “How did you even—forget it. Knowing you, you were probably careless,” He undid the band-aid's wrap and grabbed your face, preventing you from moving away.

“There you go,” He smiled, pleased with himself, the band-aid in place. “You can go back to work,”

[theghostwife]

Daemon vs. Alicent

So I saw a post on Twitter stating that if Daemon is responsible for Jaehaerys, then Alicent is responsible for Larys killing Harwin and their father and I have so many many thoughts about this. Firstly, I hate that fans of the show constantly attack Alicent. I'm not saying she's a good mother or a good person but blaming her for the acts of the men around her makes little to no sense. Normally, I'd just ignore tweets like this but the parallels I saw could not be ignored and so here I am.

Disclaimer: I'm not going to name the Twitter account I saw. I just don't want them to get attacked or anything.

First of all, their defense of Daemon stems from the fact that we never see him tell B&C to go for anyone else and because those words never left his mouth that we could see, they took it as it's not his fault. However, it was heavily, heavily implied that he did. Cheese asks what should they do if they can't find Aemond. The show allows us to fill in the blanks like we're playing hang-man. The sentence is there, the order is there, we merely need to fill it in.

Then we have his reaction to the news. Did we see surprise on his face? No. Did we see a bit of remorse for a 4-year-old getting killed in place of Aemond? No. He was pleased with the news.

In fact, when Rhaenyra turned to look at him, he was smirking.

He knew exactly what was going to happen and he's happy that at least someone was killed. It didn't matter that Aegon did not send Aemond to kill Lucerys. It did not matter that Jaehaerys is not Aemond's son. It did not matter that Jaehaerys was a child who had no part in the war or conflict. He was collateral damage. Even with all the feelings and expressions of horror around him, including that of Rhaenyra, he did not care.

At least until Rhaenyra spoke to him herself.

When she first confronted him, he says that he sent the Queen's vengeance for her son.

—————————————————————

Rhaenyra: "What did you tell this vengenace? What did you say to him? Daemon? That a boy lies dead and I am accused of killing him."

Daemon: "Mysaria provided me with names and subterfuge. I was clear in my instructions. Aemond, the brother of Aegon the Usurper. I cannot be responsible—"

Rhaenyra: "Cannot be responsible?"

Rhaenyra: "If Aemond was not to be found, what were your instructions then?"

Daemon: "They did not concern in any way that of a little child."

Rhaenyra: "You said it was your aim to spill Hightower blood. If not Aemond, then anyone would do."

—————————————————————

Despite the fact that he denies her accusations, she then goes on to say she doesn't believe him. Then there is this little number.

Now, here they get to the argument of Daemon, his resentment and bitterness that he was passed over as heir for Rhaenyra, and the fact that Aegon now sits on the throne. Even in the book, Daemon hates his nephews solely because they pushed him down the line of succession, so this one sentence here matches up perfectly with how Daemon truly feels.

It wasn't just "revenge" for Luke. It was revenge on the Targtowers, specifically, anyone in their family, any male. The death of Luke, Rhaenyra's declarance just served as a convenient excuse. If Aemond was not to be found, Daemon could have easily told them not to harm anyone else if he truly cared for Rhaenyra and her claim.

On a side note, I think this is really funny considering just before Rhaenyra accused him of using her as an excuse to kill Jaehaerys, she flat-out asked him if she was merely a tool he used to grasp at his stolen inheritance. It seems that in the show, Daemon using her as an excuse has come up more than once. Hell, even Viserys accused him of doing the same. It's just an interesting thing.

Anywho, let's compare this to Alicent and Larys Strong now shall we.

Unlike Daemon who commanded Blood and Cheese to kill Aemond, Alicent gave no such order. She didn't command anyone to be killed, nor did she want anyone to be killed. She merely stated she wanted her father back in King's Landing.

She lamented the fact that there was no one in King's Landing on her side. So what was Larys's response to this?

Larys took her words and acted on his own which resulted in the death of both Harwin and Lyonel. Alicent literally had nothing to do with it so I find it funny that someone compared the two together.

Then they mentioned that an episode later, Alicent rewards him. She wasn't rewarding him. Larys intentionally trapped Alicent with his deeds by stating he did it for her, in her name. If she were to ever expose him for his crimes, all he has to do is say she ordered him to do it in order to have her father back as Hand to the King and he would be believed.

As proof of this, in the next episode, Daemon accuses Alicent of killing Harwin and Lyonel anyway, without much justification other than her and Otto gaining from it. If Daemon thinks this, who else already believes either Alicent or Otto had something to do with it?

Later on in the same episode, Larys once again offered his services and Alicent knew better than to deny him, especially after she attacked Rhaenyra with the dagger, which damaged her reputation with the nobles and Viserys. That was Alicent accepting that she may in fact need his special brand of help later on but it's clear from her face, that she does not want it.

Also, to add to this fact, I think another reason why she said,

—————————————————————

"But your devotion has not gone unnoticed. These are dangerous times. The day will doubtless come when I require such a friend. With not only skill but discretion as well."

is because right before this, Larys subtly offered her the eye of Luke.

"If it's an eye you want to balance the scales, I am your servant."

—————————————————————

So that was her way of leading Larys away from maiming Luke but still allowing him close to her. Alicent with Larys is stuck between a rock and a hard place. This is very evident with him forcing her to sell herself, even if it is just her feet, he gets sexual satisfaction from both her feet and the act of sexual coercion as it gives him power, for basic information.

So the comparison between Daemon with B&C to Alicent and Larys with Harwin & Lyonel is in fact not at all comparable. I'd say that Alicent plays a similar role to Rhaenyra in that aspect and that is the parallel I saw. Saying one thing, making one wish/demand, and having a rogue man take your words, twist them to fit their own intentions and actions, and then say they did it your name while you bear the brunt of blame.

Speaking of the foot scene, this one could be a little different. Larys offers to have Mysaria killed because of her spy network which Otto is aware of but has left in place. Of course, here Alicent knows what will happen and essentially...pays Larys by showing him her feet. It's still an act of sexual coercion but in the end, Alicent says,

—————————————————————

"I assume this task falls within your expertise."

Which Larys responds with,

"If you wish it… it will be done."

—————————————————————

However, I don't think Alicent wanted the entire brothel to be up in flames but we never see her reaction to it, although I have a feeling she could have already known how Larys planned to solve that problem. Nonetheless, had the person on Twitter used that event in particular, it would have been a better comparison.

[thegreenthepeacetheorange]

Everlark (The Hunger Games, Ch. 23)

katniss hoping the camera doesn't pick up her blush at peeta saying "best thing that ever happened to you." peeta is such a flirt. like he couldn't talk to her for 11 years and you'd think he'd fumble at this stage but nope, the man is on fire

while she's in the sleeping bag she's sharing with peeta, with her head on his shoulders and his arms around her, katniss thinks: oh haymitch probably wants me to keep up the act, i better do something lol

"i noticed just about every girl but none of them made a lasting impression but you" i cannot

when they find out thresh has died, and katniss goes to sleep with her hood over her face to hide her emotions, she says that during this time, she silently says goodbye to thresh and thanks him for her life, she promises to remember him and do something for his and rue's families if she can and i think it's so beautiful that during the victory tour in catching fire, peeta essentially does this with no prompting. he remembers them and pledges to help them on his own accord. and no wonder katniss loves him for it. he is just a wonderful person and he is so in tune with her.

katniss is comforted by peeta's steady warmth

right before katniss says that she's never going to marry or have children because of the games, she thinks of haymitch, living alone, without a wife or children, drunk most of the time, and says she doesn't want to end up like that. so deep down, she wants a family, she wants companionship (for all those people who think she should've been alone at the end of mockingjay)

and then again we have her watching peeta as he sleeps and wondering what he/they will be like when they return home. she admits that she feels like he is actually in love with her and not just pretending.

"he will always be the boy with the bread". - he won't just be a friend because he's the boy with the bread and that is a lot more to katniss. when she thinks of anything beyond friendship with peeta, she feels like gale is watching over her which is very interesting. (would love to hear your thoughts on why because i'm still trying to understand how katniss's mind works). in my head, i feel like she saw gale as her obvious future partner just because of the nature of their relationship but now she's imagining things "beyond" friendship with this other boy peeta and it's conflicting for her. this want of hers for peeta (which turns into a need) that now disrupts what she thinks was a normal necessity in her life.

them and their constant long kisses and absentminded kisses. which katniss doesn't try to stop. like she just accepts them (and i believe participates in them) with no particular thoughts. she just casually mentions they're kissing every few sentences. like girl. i can't believe they gave us extra non-existent gale kisses in the movies but didn't give us the 24/7 smoochathon these two were having in that cave.

the ease with which they touch each other. the way katniss covers his mouth with her hands without thought. the way peeta makes her genuinely laugh while they're stuck in this nightmare

when they're out hunting and she thinks she's lost peeta/he's dead, she's actually completely irrational. her desperation and fear comes out as anger and snappiness but her thought process is irrational. she's so worried about peeta dying that she doesn't stop to think that she would've heard a cannon/seen his body be collected if he was dead by now.

she's so worried by the thought of peeta dying that she is trembling. i really think that after all their days and nights in the cave over the last few chapters, she has developed real love for him. the kind where the thought of him not being with her/in her life would cause her to seriously grieve. not in a oh that was the boy from my district way or oh that was the boy who helped me way or like the other tribute deaths - no, this is peeta and she wouldn't come back from his death.

it's funny that a lot of the time when she's confused about her feelings, it means poor peeta is dealing with her anger. like her throwing a strop and acting like she doesn't want the food he's found or picking at him for eating without her even though she doesn't care. she's so petty.

[naughtyneganjdm]

On the Run - Chapter 13

Summary: The group goes ahead with Bill's plan of action to find out who is trying to kill Y/N, but things don't go to plan.

Characters: Joel Miller (The Last of Us), Negan (The Walking Dead), the reader (OC, third person), Bill (The Last of Us), Frank (The Last of Us), etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47007172/chapters/124256413

Warnings: Swearing, angst, violence, etc.

Notes: One more chapter left after this one. Sorry it took a while for me to post this one. I needed to take some time from social media. Thank you you to those who read this!

“I don’t like this,” Negan announced with tension in his tone scooting closer to the desk that featured all of the screens that Bill had set up inside of the surveillance truck that he had. They were all sitting closely together inside of the truck after Bill had instructed them to park it down the street from the address to the warehouse that was texted to him. With the surveillance Bill set up, they could see inside the warehouse, outside and could also watch whatever Bill was seeing from the camera he had hidden on his jacket. Everyone was watching closely in anticipation, not sure what to expect next. “Sending Bill in alone doesn’t feel right.”

“I think Bill is very capable of taking care of himself,” Joel tried to suggest gazing over at Negan from where they were sitting cramped together watching the screens. “This was his whole idea. We know that he can take care of himself.”

“Not to be an asshole, but have you looked at the guy? Compared to you and me I don’t see him being able to hold up against a group of people if he has to,” Negan grumbled under his breath, his face tensing up and showing the visible stress that was flooding through his body. “Bill is the brains, not necessarily the strength.”

“You know I can hear you,” Bill huffed through the earpiece after Negan went off on the whole thing. “There is a reason all of us are wearing earpieces. So everything you are saying, I hear.” 

“We know honey, but you can’t be talking to us. Whoever is meeting up with you is going to think you are crazy,” Frank hushed Negan, waving his hand about while Y/N and Joel scoot in closer to the screens to get a look at everything. “Right now there is no one at the location. So take your time walking because you don’t want to show up early and get bombarded.”

“Now remember your safe word. You use it and the two of us will be there in no time,” Joel coached Bill, sliding in closer to Frank while he surveyed the video that was attached to Bill’s jacket. Deep down Joel knew that Negan was right. Bill going in alone just didn’t make much sense, but Bill insisted. “Negan and I will grab whatever we need. We’ll come in after you.”

“Ten-four,” Bill muttered, his deep breaths filling the air while he walked up the hill toward the warehouse. Every second that passed felt like an extraordinarily large amount of time. “Of course this place had to be on a fucking hill. I’m going to be passing out by the time that I get up there.”

“See what I mean?” Negan whispered letting out a grunt when Y/N smacked at the center of his chest. Throwing his hands up in the air, Negan knew that he wasn’t wrong about this whole thing. Sending Bill in alone was almost a death sentence for this guy if things went wrong and he didn’t want Bill to die.

“You’ve got this,” Y/N emphasized glancing back at Negan who was now surveying the guns they had brought with them. Of course they hoped they wouldn’t have to use them, but she knew that Negan was preparing just in case. Bill had several guns and knives on himself to keep him safe, but she knew that Negan was severely uncomfortable with this whole thing. Reaching her hand out, she placed her hand in over Negan’s knee and caressed over it. The motion made him look to her hand and his jaw flexed in uneasiness. Placing his hand over hers, he hooked their fingers together and swallowed down hard. “Just know we’re right here with you Bill.”

“I’m coming up on the warehouse. This is where I stop,” Bill informed them and Joel’s face was locked on the screen. Coming to a full stop, Bill looked around when he noticed that the parking lot was empty. “I’m still the only one here.”

“It’s not exactly the time yet,” Joel informed Bill looking to his watch that was on his wrist. Clearing his throat, Joel’s foot was tapping about a mile a minute showing his nervousness as well. “Just give it some time Bill.”

“We should have the truck closer,” Negan blurt out feeling tense about the whole thing. It made Y/N’s fingers hook tighter around his and he sighed. “It’s too far away.”

“It’s not that far away Negan. It wouldn’t look right just having a white van sitting there right next to the warehouse when nothing else is around. It’s like a sore thumb telling the person hey look we’re right here, come find us,” Joel responded which elicited a grunt from Negan’s throat. “This is to make sure that we are safe enough away to still get the reception of the video while hiding.”

“Would you two please shut up?” Bill scoffed on his end of the video showing that he was gazing around the area. The sun was starting to set and it was growing darker. “I need to have a clear mind to pull this off and you two bickering is not going to help.”

“We’ll keep them quiet,” Frank promised waving his hand about trying to get both Negan and Joel to shut up. Frank had to focus as well because he was the one in control of everything. Everything that Bill set up for him to be in control of that was. From one of the street cameras Frank could see a truck approaching. “Alright Bill, we have…” seeing that there was more than one SUV made Frank swallow down hard. “You have three vehicles approaching.”

“I told you this was a bad fucking idea,” Negan muttered under his breath, the tension growing in his body when the three large vehicles surrounded Bill. This wasn’t how the plan was supposed to go. They all knew that. Negan knew from the start they were never going to play fair. “Remember Bill, we are right here. You say the word and I will be there before you know it.”

“He’s got this,” Frank assured Negan, waving him down and Negan could feel his heart hammering inside of his chest. Bringing Y/N’s hand up, Negan deposited a kiss over the back of her hand before lowering it back to his lap. Y/N’s life really depended on this whole situation. If it fell through, she would never be safe and they all knew that. “I’m assuming the big dog is in the central car. Just keep your cool and we can get what we need. Easy peezy.”

“Really?” Negan snorted, his hazel eyes gazing over at Frank who gave a small shrug. Grumbling to himself, Negan scoot in closer to the screen, his eyes locked on the camera that was attached to Bill’s jacket. Waiting for the doors to open, Negan let out a shuddering, disappointed breath when a familiar face was revealed. Loosening his grasp over Y/N’s hand, he felt his arm go limp when the face became clearer in Bill’s footage. “That’s Simon.”

“I am so sorry,” Joel whispered knowing that Simon was Negan’s best friend. Upset filled Negan’s hazel eyes and it was obvious he was broken to know that Simon had something to do with this. Honestly? Joel wasn’t as surprised. “It makes sense Negan. It always made sense. After you told him about Poppy? How he sent a cleaning crew instead of someone to help. And then the people at the safehouse? Simon was always the obvious choice.”

“I know, I just…” Negan began finding himself losing the words. Stealing another glance at Y/N he felt guilty. Maybe this was his fault all along that he could never bring himself to believe that Simon was capable of something like this. Damn it, he hated that he was getting emotional over this whole thing, but he was. “I never thought he would do something like this. Not after everything we’ve been through together. I thought we were friends.”

Simon made an elaborate gesture that caught their eye pulling them to look back to the screen. Watching Negan, Y/N could sense that he was shattered to know that the one person he cared about other than her in his life was one of the bad guys. Like Joel, she wasn’t surprised to see his face. She was just curious as to how he made this whole thing happen.

“Are you the guy?” Simon arrogantly questioned pulling his black sunglasses from his face. Dramatically he bobbed his head about and Joel turned to look at Negan who lowered his head into his palm. Seeing Simon at the other end of the feed was hard for Negan to accept.

“I’m the guy,” Bill put emphasis on the word as Simon extended his hand out to Bill. Accepting the shake, Bill was obviously cautious when multiple men got out of the cars. Once their faces became clearer in the video, Y/N had recognized more than a few of the faces. These were all men that worked for Simon when it came to her father. “Are you the guy?”

“I’m not the guy, but I’m a guy,” Simon explained with a snicker throwing his arms up to give an over-the-top shrug.

“What does that mean?” Bill inquired, his voice changing when he gazed around the men that were surrounding him. “I requested that it just be me and the man in charge. This feels a bit much. Don’t you think?”

“For me? Oh yeah. Totally,” Simon reached out to pat Bill on the shoulder giving it a firm squeeze. “Trust me my man, when we go in, it’s just going to be me and two others. We’re waiting on someone else. But the rest of these folks? They are just here to make sure that things go smoothly. See, I didn’t know if I could trust you because I’m not used to fucking hackers getting in my business. You know what I mean?”

“I hate to break it to you friend, but when you offer that kind of money and you send the information out to multiple people you need to learn to hide things better,” Bill responded to Simon’s comment. Snickering, Simon almost seemed amused to hear Bill’s counter.

“Hmmm…just tell me how you actually did it,” Simon urged Bill to explain further, waving his hand in the air wanting more details. “How did you find this whole thing in the first place? You really have to understand how strange it is to be getting a text from someone…a complete stranger telling you that they did what no one else could. You have a gigantic sack for even trying this in the first place.”

“The future governor has a shooting at his house where his child goes missing and you don’t think you’re going to have people interested?” Bill replied in such a way where he didn’t seem worried at all. In fact it impressed Y/N with how good Bill was acting everything out. There was no fear in his voice. Bill seemed bored with the whole encounter. “I dug into everything. I’m a hacker. I was able to find texts, learn about those men that were killed at the first safehouse. You sent out a lot of texts. It wasn’t like you were hiding it.”

“I see,” Simon seemed to be scrutinizing Bill with his gaze.

“You know I know who you are too,” Bill informed Simon showing that he wasn’t afraid or backing down. It made Negan wonder if that was really the right approach to this whole thing.

“Oh?” that peaked Simon’s interest.

“You’re Philip Blake’s head of security, Simon. I guess I should have known that someone on the inside was in charge. It was too convenient,” Bill thought aloud causing Simon’s jaw to tense up while he stared out at Bill with curiosity. “I learned everything I could about Philip Blake and his family. Along with the three that were with Blake’s daughter. Tell me, did you just start to hate your job or…?”

“I thought you know everything,” Simon mocked, his eyebrows bouncing up when Bill took a step back to eye him over. “I mean go ahead. Tell me what you think happened here. I’m dying to hear what your theory is.”

“I never claimed to know everything. I just know more than the average person does,” Bill corrected Simon who gave a small smirk in response. “I just know you work for the man whose daughter went missing. And you were best friends with the big one.”

“Hmm…” Simon hummed in response making Negan tense up from where he was seated in the white van with the others. Instead of acknowledging what Bill said, Simon just folded his arms in front of his chest. The expression over Simon’s face was hard to read. There was no way to tell if Bill was right or not because Simon was giving nothing away. 

“My guess as to why you are doing this? You got sick of working for Philip Blake. You knew how much money he was really worth and you were getting paid scraps. Decided to take things into your own hands. While working for a man like that you are going to have access to all kinds of things and you took advantage of it. Philip had to have gotten rich enemies through the years willing to work with you to take advantage of his running for office and killing his daughter to make a point,” Bill deduced and his theory sounded like it could be right. It made the most sense. “I think your biggest mistake was the country singer. You just weren’t hiring the right people to truly get the job done.”

“Yeah, Half Moon got…carried away,” Simon tipped his head to the side letting out a tense sound when he sucked in a sharp breath of air. “It was a case of someone taking a situation into their own hands. But what I really want to know is how you found Y/N and the two men. They disappeared off the grid. No one saw them. At all and trust me, we were looking. So how did you do it when no one else could?”

“Because I’m not like anyone else,” Bill answered with a smug tone and amusement flooded Simon’s features. His dark eyes were hooked on Bill like a hawk and it was obvious that Simon was absolutely curious about the man that Bill was. “What I’m capable of is quite amazing.”

“A man of mystery, I like that,” Simon stepped forward and wrapped his arm firmly around Bill’s shoulders pulling him toward the front door of the warehouse. “So you just typed some things into your little computer and you were able to find out whatever you wanted?”

Frank shifted his seating when he adjusted to watch the screens where Simon was now walking into the warehouse with Bill and two other people. Like Simon said, the rest of them stayed outside while Simon and Bill walked over toward a container at the center of the warehouse. Simon sat down on top of it and threw his hands up in the air.

“I could find anything I want about anyone,” Bill was honest and they all knew that. Hell, Bill had something on every single one of them. Things that no one really knew, so Bill wasn’t lying to Simon. “After they left the motel, I was able to track their SUV by using traffic cameras. Following them after that wasn’t very hard. They were hiding somewhere in the woods. Thought they would be safe, but my father taught me to hunt when I was a child. I became very good at tracking. Super easy.”

“Look at you, Mr. Smarty Pants,” Simon retorted sucking in a sharp breath of air. “Smarter than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“Well if this goes well, maybe you can hire me on so you can actually get your projects done right,” Bill snorted back and there was an annoyance in his tone. “I don’t really mean to press your buttons here, but if you’re the man in charge I’d really like to get my money now.”

“What’s the rush?” Simon scoffed, throwing his hands up in the air. A dramatic, over the top expression flooded his features before he chuckled. “The money is here big guy. You’re not going to get screwed out of your money.”

“Prove it,” Bill blurt out and Simon chuckled before tipping his head from side to side. Letting out a sigh, Simon got up from where he was seated and headed over to the far wall. Reaching for the large painting that was on the wall, Simon set it down on the ground and pointed to the safe that had been hidden behind the painting. “How do I know there is money in there?”

“You’re just going to have to trust me because I don’t have the fucking code,” Simon knocked on the safe letting out an amused sound before heading back over to where he was originally to sit down on top of the container again. “So where are the bodies Mr. Smarty Pants? You were supposed to bring them here.”

“Where is the man in charge? He was supposed to be here,” Bill replied back with a bit of venom in his tone. Simon threw his hands up and almost mocking Bill. The other two people that followed Simon into the warehouse were at the corners of the warehouse and when they shifted on their feet it caught Bill’s attention. “I’m not a stupid man, I knew that by coming here with the bodies I would have no leverage over this situation. You give me the money, I give you the exact location of the bodies. That way we both win.”

“I see,” Simon swallowed down, sucking hard at his bottom lip. “Let me see that photo again.”

Wiggling his fingers, Simon demanded and Bill sounded disgusted. Pulling out his phone, Bill looked through a few things before handing over the phone to Simon who survey the photo over letting out a tense sound.

“Are you going to keep fucking me around or are you going to actually give me the money so I can give you a location and we can get back to our regular everyday life?” Bill snapped finding himself getting uncomfortable with the fact that things were not working out the way he was hoping.

“We need to wait,” Simon asserted with a rumble as his eyes were still locked on the phone. “This looks legit.”

“Because it is,” Bill spoke swiftly making all of them tense from where they were seated inside of the work van. Was Simon questioning the validity of the photo? “The three of them are dead as can be. Waiting for you to go collect them and take care of this so we can get this over with.”

“I told you, I don’t know the combination to the safe,” Simon reminded Bill angering Bill even more. “What are you so damn nervous about? You are about to be a rich man. You can’t handle a little conversation?”

“I’ve never been a very social man,” Bill claimed, folding his arms out in front of his chest. “I like to get things over and done with.”

“Tell me how you did this,” Simon held the phone out showing Bill the photo that was up. “Tell me how you killed them.”

“I told you. They were hiding out in the woods and I was able to track them,” Bill recalled what he had already told Simon who was rolling his eyes in response. “I killed them, I got rid of their SUV and their bodies are waiting where I left them.”

“No, I want details,” Simon tossed the phone to Bill who fumbled to catch it before pushing it back into his pocket. “You’re a smart man. I’m sure you don’t forget details. Go over how you killed them.”

“I killed the big one first,” Bill explained coming up with a story and they hoped that he was able to work well under pressure. “Negan? That was his name, right? Put up a hell of a fight, but he never saw me coming. Took multiple gun shots to finally get him down. Then Joel Miller? Fought like hell to protect her. But he didn’t see me coming. I have my talents at being able to stay hidden. I gutted him. And then when it came to her, she was leaning over the side of Joel’s body trying to help him. She was the easiest. I came up behind her with my knife and I cut her throat. End of story.”

“Bloody,” Simon’s eyebrows bounced up and he stood up from the place he had been seated. Stepping in closer to Bill, his eyes were locked on the smaller man as he cleared his throat. His expression grew dark while he stared down at Bill. “You know the order was to kill just the girl.”

“And the country singer killed her friend, so I didn’t think it would be a big deal,” Bill snapped back and even though it was true, it made Y/N let out a saddened sound knowing that she still wondered what happened to Poppy’s body. Then again, Simon had to admit to being in charge of this whole thing. And once they had him in custody, he would have to be convinced to admit what he did with Poppy’s body. Part of her believed he wouldn’t even do that. “I couldn’t get to her without killing them.”

“You killed the strongest son of a bitch that I ever knew,” Simon informed Bill, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat showing that he was getting angry. Stepping in closer to Bill, the warmth of Simon’s breath was hot over Bill’s face. “He shouldn’t have died at the hands of a hillbilly like you.”

“Oh, fuck this. Give me my money,” Bill demanded before letting out a sharp breath when the sound of a gun going off was heard. Dropping to his knees, Bill grabbed a hold of his abdomen, his eyes big with shock. Standing before him was Simon with a gun that he had managed to sneak out in their discussion.

“You shouldn’t have killed Negan,” Simon snarled down at Bill. The other two men that had joined Simon in the warehouse had stepped forward beside him.

“Son of a bitch,” Negan stood up in the van not waiting for any kind of word from Bill. What they had just seen was reason enough to rush to go help Bill. Grabbing the guns he had selected earlier made Joel cuss out.

Scrambling to keep up with Negan, Joel reached for his supplies as well. Without a second thought, Negan hopped out of the van making Y/N panic. Joel cussed out trying to grab what he could, but he wasn’t keeping up with Negan. Instead of rushing out after Negan, Joel leaned into press a swift kiss over Y/N’s temple. Pulling back, Joel stared out at Frank who looked worried, “You keep her safe. Do you understand me?”

Giving a nod, Frank watched as Joel hopped out of the truck and slammed the doors shut behind him. Joel couldn’t think about Frank and Y/N in this situation. Joel had to be Negan’s back up. Trying to catch up, Joel could see that Negan was already running up the hill toward the warehouse. 

“Hey,” Y/N reached for Frank’s arm inside the van seeing that he was clutching to the table that was before him where they were doing surveillance. In the video she saw Bill fall forward on the ground and Simon lifted his gun to itch at his own temple.

“What the hell Simon?” one of the other men snapped looking down at Bill motionless on the ground. “You weren’t supposed to fucking kill him. We needed the location of the bodies. What are we going to do now?”

“I overreacted,” Simon tossed his hands up in the air looking down at Bill’s body and he dramatically shook his head. “I’m just supposed to be okay with some fucking loser killing Negan? Some fucking hacker hillbilly? I’m sorry, but I’m not okay with that shit. He deserved to go out in a way that fit. Not because of this loser searching the deep web to find the information. Fuck that.”

“What are we going to do?” the other man demanded an answer trying to reach down to check on Bill who was motionless. “I think you fucking killed him.”

“We see the picture. We heard the story. It’s believable,” Simon declared with a loud grumble trying to gather himself. “By the story he told they were in the middle of the woods. No one would be able to track their bodies at this point. Just let the bodies rot.”

As the conversation was taking place, both Negan and Joel were approaching the warehouse together. Joel hid behind one of the trucks that they had brought seeing the men that were surrounding the building. Multiple ones had gone around the back and Joel knew they would be up against over a dozen men.

“We need to come up with a plan in order to go get Bill and get the hell out of here,” Joel explained trying to get Negan to focus while he scouted out the area, his jaw flexing. “I’m sure we can be stealthy, take down who we need and…”

Without even listening to Joel, Negan stood up and started shooting. Because it was random and unannounced Negan was able to shoot several of them making them hit the ground hard while the rest of them spread.

“Son of a bitch! Negan!” Joel called out seeing that a few of them were popping out behind Negan in attempts to shoot him. Thinking quickly, Joel shot multiple times taking the men down with the rifle that he had grabbed hating that it was leading to this.

Inside of the warehouse, Simon had hid himself behind the containers that he had been sitting on previously, trying to keep himself hidden, “Holy shit. The hillbilly had a fucking group of people with him too. I did not see that fucking coming.”

“You shouldn’t have fucking killed him!” one of the other men in the warehouse stood with their gun pointed at the door. “This was stupid. This was so stupid!”

Outside, Negan and Joel made their way toward the front of the warehouse. The way Negan moved for the door like nothing could hurt him worried Joel. Negan was killing people easily without much of a reaction, but by the time they had gotten to the front door, multiple bodies were on the ground and Joel hid himself against the wall.

“The door is locked,” Negan pulled at the door letting out a roar looking back at Joel with frustration in his eyes. “Get Frank to unlock the door.”

“Frank, you have to get the doors unlocked,” Joel instructed moving away from the door to try to get Frank to respond to them. Bill had set everything up so Frank was in control of everything that had to do with the building.

“Joel, they are already unlocked,” Frank explained from where he was looking down at the buttons, confused to what Joel was saying. “They were never locked in the first place.”

“They are unlocked Negan,” Joel was confused when he turned to look and see that Negan had opened the door and was pulling it shut. Running forward, Joel tried to tug open the door but Negan had manually locked the door in his attempts to keep Joel safe. “Negan! No. You can’t do this whole thing alone. You’re just one man.”

“Keep her safe,” Negan demanded pointing in the other direction. It was clear what he wanted from Joel. Hitting the door over and over again Joel was determined to get in with the glass starting to crack, but not enough to make a difference. Instead of opening the door, Negan turned on his heel eliciting a hiss from Joel.

“He locked me out Frank! I need to get in,” Joel explained drawing Frank to let out a nervous sound and he felt Y/N moving around beside him in the truck. “Negan can’t go in there alone.”

“I don’t know what to tell you Joel, the back door is surrounded by them and you know that you can’t go there. Not after what we set up,” Frank looked for an option but there was none. Joel’s loud, frustrated breaths were heard while he continued to pound at the glass on the door trying to break it down. “Break the door down Joel. Use your gun.”

“It’s wasting bullets,” Joel reasoned before using the butt of the gun to hit at the glass until it finally shattered.

“What are you doing?” Frank questioned from where he was seated noticing the way that Y/N was digging through the supplies that was in the work van. When he saw that she had grabbed a handgun, he let out a frustrated sound. “You can’t go there after them Y/N! You know what the plan was!”

“I’m not going to let them get hurt further. Not for me,” she hopped out of the van sticking to her guns. Frank frustratingly breathed out. It looked like he was going to follow her out, but she threw her hand up in the air. “You have to keep them safe from here. You know what you have to do. You can’t leave.”

“Goddamn it,” Frank cussed when she slammed the doors of the van shut behind her leaving Frank inside.

Wincing out, Joel had managed to get his arm through the broken parts of the glass to get the door unhooked and at the same time Negan was approaching the room that Bill had gone in with Simon. When he stepped into the entrance way, he let out a grunt when one of the two managed to shoot him in the arm making him jolt back. Quickly gathering himself, Negan shot multiple times at the man who had shot him, hitting him several times before getting a kill shot in the head. Pointing his gun at the other man who was left standing, Negan cleared his throat and motioned them to throw the gun down.

“Throw it down, now!” Negan demanded seeing the other man shake his head immediately. It looked like he was about to shoot Negan, but another few shots filled the air. Looking back over his shoulder once the body dropped to the ground, Negan saw that Joel was standing behind him. Joel expression was furious. “I fucking told you to stay.”

“I don’t give a shit,” Joel snarled at Negan and it was followed by a surprised sound escaping Simon’s throat when his hand pressed in over the container so he could look back and over to see Negan pointing his rifle out at him. “Negan!”

“Back from the fucking dead,” Simon let out an amused breath making Negan’s face scrunch up in anger and Negan pulled the gun up further. “Was this your idea? You sent this idiot in to stage everything and you got him killed?”

“Don’t,” Joel warned when Simon slowly stood up looking between the two of them. “Don’t move. Or I’ll fucking shoot!”

“I can see that,” Simon was amused, keeping his hands at his hips while Negan remained silent. “You do know at any moment, the rest of the crew is going to come in through the back, right? I’m sure they are making their way there right now as we…”

A booming sound filled the air making Simon drop down and cover his head when debris from an explosion toward the back exit filled the small warehouse. Instead of reacting to the explosion, Negan kept his gun on Simon knowing that the explosion was caused from the explosives that Bill had set up just in case someone tried to sneak into the building. Frank had set it off showing that Simon was right and the rest of the crew was coming in through the back.

“Negan!” Joel called out seeing that a few people were still approaching. It became obvious that not everyone had been effected by the explosion that was set up. Immediately bullets were flooding into the room and Joel shuffled to try to get cover behind a wall. Negan had dropped down at the other end of the containers that Simon had scrambled behind again.

Trying to pop his head out, Joel scoffed when the bullets continued to graze by him. Dropping down onto the ground, Joel clung to the rifle and cussed out loud knowing that there was still too many men for them to take down at once in this situation. They had the upper hand.

Scoping out the warehouse, Joel saw the set of stairs that were at the corner of the room that led to the second floor overlook of the warehouse. That was the only way he knew that would work with him having an advantage in this situation. Stretching his fingers out, he reached for a piece of the debris from the explosion that had made it this far across the building. Tossing it aside, the gunmen shot at the area it landed giving Joel enough time to scramble for the stairs. They shot at him and he managed to reach the steps before he could be shot.

Once he reached the top, he paused to make sure that there was a safe spot for him to settle himself. They hadn’t stopped trying to shoot at Negan who could barely move and Joel knew he needed to do something. Propping himself up, he aimed at one of the men that Simon had brought with him, shooting and hitting the first one in the neck causing the blood to spray from his throat. It was something that usually would have made Joel uncomfortable, but he had to push through the emotions of this whole thing. Killing was never something he wanted to do, but this was a situation that he got stuck in. Taking another shot took another one down leaving Negan room to finally move away from where he was. Once Negan was safe, Joel dropped back down to give himself cover as well.

“Negan!” Simon called out from where he was still hidden. “What the hell are you doing?”

When the shooting stopped, Negan popped out from where he was hidden to shoot at the remainder of the men that were there. With them distracted on Negan, Joel knew that he could pop up again taking out a few more of them. During the process they had noticed that Joel was up on the second level and he had to hide himself. It gave Negan the opportunity to shoot at them. Heading back for the stairs, Joel knew that it would give him the chance to fool them with where he was. They were still shooting at the second level unaware that he had made it back to the first floor.

“Christ! Stop!” Simon screamed out while the bullets continued to be shot back and forth between both sides. Once another one of their men was taken out by Joel and Negan, the remaining three had dropped back. “You two are killing all of my men.”

“Good,” Negan snarled back, pressing forward toward the area they had run off in. It left Joel trying to go off after him, but Negan was already pulling out the handgun that he had, dropping the rifle on the ground. The way he shot the men with ease in the back as they ran away shocked Joel knowing that Negan was an incredible shot.

“Hey!” Simon called out drawing Joel’s attention since he was still partially in the warehouse. Letting out a worried sound, Joel saw Y/N moving into the building and before he could react Simon was scrambling from where he was to move in behind her to wrap her up in his arms from behind making her gasp out. Pointing his rifle out at Simon, Joel made his way back toward the situation seeing that Simon pressed the gun to Y/N’s head. “You step closer and I will blow her brains out all over the place.”

“What the hell are you doing?” Joel questioned with a frustrated glance seeing the fear in Y/N’s eyes while she stared out at him. “You were supposed to stay where you were.”

“I couldn’t let the two of you get hurt,” she answered letting out a wince when Negan had entered the warehouse and lifted his handgun to point it at Simon when he realized what was happening. “Negan.”

“Let her go,” Negan warned getting closer to the three of them that were already in a standoff. “You do something stupid Simon and you’re outnumbered. All of your men are dead. There is nothing you have over the two of us.”

“This is fucking insane,” Simon acknowledged with a bit of a maniacal laugh. Hiding his body behind Y/N’s, Simon was doing his best to keep himself from being shot. Simon’s arm was hooked around her throat, with the gun still pointed at her temple. “All of this over this dumb broad? The both of you?”

“Let her go now!” Joel screamed at Simon, his body shaking from his emotional outburst. Snickering, Simon buried his head against the side of Y/N’s neck. The sensation made her eyes shut tightly in fear.

“You must have a magic pussy or something,” Simon slurred making her let out a disgusted breath when his lips pressed in over the back of her ear. “You have both of these two suckers willing to risk their lives for you. What is it? I’ve known you your whole life and I just don’t see it.”

“You’re disgusting,” she shouted out at Simon trying to wiggle out of his grasp, but his muscular arm wasn’t letting her go anywhere. “I always knew you were a piece of shit.”

“Oh? Did you now?” Simon’s voice raised while pulling her tightly to him. “Do you want a fucking cookie for knowing that? God, you’re so fucking special, aren’t you? Did you think the men who were working for your father were good people?”

“Let her go Simon,” Negan demanded but Simon didn’t listen. It just made Simon smirk and he shook his head. “Why are you doing this Simon? Tell us who hired you and we can work something out with you.”

“Oh, you’re going to work with me?” Simon chuckled with his eyebrows furrowing and Simon nuzzled his nose in the back against Y/N’s neck.

“Do you trust me?” Joel inquired making Y/N’s eyes grow with fear. This was Joel asking Y/N for permission to do something and it made Negan let out a nervous exhale. “Do you trust me?”

“No,” Negan responded with a shake of his head seeing that Joel was lining up a shot. “We don’t trust you.”

“I need to hear it from you,” Joel begged of Y/N knowing that it was only her that could give him the permission to do this. There was doubt in Negan’s face, but she could feel the gun digging in further at her temple.

“I trust you,” she breathed out and a moment later a gun went off making Simon hiss out in agony showing that Joel had hit him. It made Simon release Y/N and Negan scrambled to grab a hold of her so he could push her behind him to protect her. Simon was holding the side of his face, clinging to it while blood seeped through his fingers.

“You shot off part of my ear?” Simon snarled, lifting his fingers to trace over the area that Joel had managed to shoot in order to get Simon to let go of Y/N. Tossing his handgun up, Simon pointed it at Negan. Joel stepped forward to make it clear that he was there with his gun. “Fuck, I understand why you hated the fucking professor.”

“Fuck you,” Joel swore at Simon making Simon laugh and gaze over in his direction. “Tell us what we need to know and I won’t put a bullet in your fucking head. And trust me, with that shiny ass forehead it’s not going to be hard to miss.”

“Oh, look at you. Big and bad. So terrifying you smartass,” Simon chuckled, gazing over to Negan and letting out an exhausted sound. “I can’t believe it got to this.”

“What does that mean?” Joel inquired letting out a groan when a gunshot went off, hitting his left arm. Hitting the ground hard, it felt like the breath left his lungs and Joel immediately clung to his arm. Quickly turning, Negan shot off a few rounds at the person who had obviously shot Joel. Once the sound of a body hitting the ground was heard, Negan turned on his heel and brought the gun back to Simon. Simon had his gun pointed at Joel and he had kicked Joel’s rifle away. “Fuck.”

“That’s what you deserve for shooting part of my ear off you prick,” Simon hissed at Joel who was clinging to his arm while blood seeped through his fingers. When he noticed the fear in Negan’s eyes, Simon chuckled to himself and shook his head. “You really are clinging to these two, aren’t you?”

“Hey,” Negan made sure to keep Y/N behind him to block her so that way Simon couldn’t point his gun at her. “Just tell us what we need to know.”

“Come on Negan, don’t you think it’s about time to give up the gig?” Simon pushed keeping his gun up and pointed at Negan while Negan made sure to push Y/N further behind him. “I think it’s gone on long enough at this point.”

“What are you talking about?” Negan tipped his head to the side noticing out of the corner of his eye that Joel was attempting to slide toward the gun that Y/N had dropped when she entered the building. She had dropped it when Simon had grabbed a hold of her. Trying to keep Simon’s attention he knew that he didn’t want Simon’s gun on either Y/N or Joel. “Stop fucking around Simon!” 

“Don’t play innocent,” Simon snickered looking between both Y/N and Joel who looked confused with his response. “I didn’t think you’d let it get this far. When you came up with the idea for this whole thing, I thought it would be a simple job, but you have dragged this thing out way too far.”

“What?” Negan snarled, his eyebrows furrowing when he shook his head. “You’re talking nonsense.”

“Y/N, this was originally just supposed to be Negan stepping in to be the hero,” Simon clarified, his head nodding slowly when he dramatically wiggled his gun out in the air. “There is no money in that safe. Negan wanted to be your hero to make you fall in love with him. He was so jealous that you had the professor that he tried coming up with a scenario of how to make you fall in love with him. I let him do it because he’s my friend and I thought after the first night it would be over. I didn’t think this would drag on for weeks. We were going to set up the shooting, Negan was meant to kill them and then he would be your knight in shining armor. You deserve to know that Negan isn’t the man that you think he is.”

“Bullshit,” Y/N snapped back at Simon making him look offended when he place his hand in over the center of his chest.

“Why do you think I was so fucking pissed that the hillbilly killed him?” Simon pushed further nodding over toward Bill’s body that was still on the ground. “This was just supposed to be something that Negan and I worked up together. After Negan lost Lucille, he just became so obsessed with the idea of you. You were this sweet, pure little thing and he just wanted you so much. And the professor was getting in the way. Negan is not the man that you think he is. In fact, he’s quite honestly the biggest manipulator I know. Hell, I fell for it too. I wanted my best friend to find love and even though it was a bit extreme, I went through with it. I didn’t think he was going to make a whole fucking action movie out of it. It was when Poppy got killed where I knew I had to straighten this shit up.” 

“Oh fuck you,” Negan snarled once he realized what Simon was trying to hint at. “I would never do something like this you fucking piece of shit. And you know that.”

“Oh?” Simon held his finger up on his free hand digging into his pocket to pull out his phone. “I thought you might pull something like this. So…”

Keeping Y/N safely behind him, Negan felt his whole body tensing up when Simon brought up something on his phone and the audio clip started to play, “I have to figure out a way to get rid of the boyfriend. All the guy fucking does is upset her. But she’s so goddamn in love with him that I don’t know what I could even do. It would have to be something big. Something that was a grand gesture. I wish I could just throw the guy in the fucking river and be done with it.”

A nervous laugh fell from Negan’s throat when he looked back at Y/N seeing her eyes gazing over him and he shook his head, “That’s taken completely out of context. I don’t even know why he recorded that. It was right after Joel asked you for money the first time and I was talking to Simon about it, I don’t…I don’t even know why he recorded that.”

“Negan, she loves you at this point. You got what you wanted,” Simon shoved his phone back into his pocket pointing over at Joel who had started to pull himself up from the ground. “I can tell by the way she ran in here guns blazing. You have both of these two wanting to protect you and keep you safe. You got between her legs, so let’s finish this shit up.”

“Shut up,” Negan screamed at Simon who simply shrugged his shoulders and lowered his gun about. “You don’t know when to stop lying, do you?”

“Do you?” Simon repeated pointing back and forth between Y/N and Joel. “You just can’t stop this whole thing you started. Joel has been shot for fuck’s sake. Poppy is dead. People are fucking dead. Lots of fucking people. And it was all over some girl? This is fucking ridiculous Negan. I helped you set up this building, I picked the men for you to kill to make sure she knew you were the one that loved her the most. What more could you possibly want? This is what you do to your best friend?”

“Negan?” the color drained from Joel’s face while he stared out at Negan who was shaking his head.

“He’s full of shit,” Negan declared shrugging his shoulders. “Why would I do this?”

“Because love makes you do crazy things. Your wife died and you were never able to get over it. I think it drove you kind of crazy friend. And I should have questioned this before you did all of it,” Simon retorted with a wrinkle of his nose making Negan’s face scrunch up in anger. “I’m sorry, it’s just time to be honest about things. Let’s just do what you wanted from the start with Joel. Let’s just kill the son of a bitch and get a move on because this is really fucking with her dad’s run for governor which is fucking with my job. You’re my friend, but enough is enough.”

“You’re trying to fuck with her mind and it’s not going to work,” Negan shook his head, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat when he felt Y/N’s body moving away from him. Looking back over his shoulder, Negan felt his throat tightening and he let out a tense breath. “You can’t actually believe what he’s saying, do you?”

“Come on Negan. She’s not stupid,” Simon pointed out waving his gun about when he saw her eyes staring Negan over. “How the hell do you think we knew where you were at all times? There was only one constant Y/N. And that’s Negan.”

“The tracker in my necklace,” she blurt out thinking to the tracker that she had destroyed previously from the necklace that her father had given her. “My father gave me a necklace when I was younger that had a tracker in it. That’s how.”

“You think that tracker would work across the fucking country?” Simon scoffed working to make Y/N question that very thing. Negan’s face had gone pale so much that when Y/N looked to him, Simon could tell that Negan was staring to panic. “Honey, Negan has been fucking obsessed with you since Lucille died. It was just supposed to be a show. Hurting people is not something Negan has a problem with doing. You think he just suddenly learned to be a good fighter? The guy was a baseball player and a gym teacher. Yet he can kill people point blank and easy? Were you guys with Negan every time that he called me?”

The look over Joel’s face answered it for Simon and he snapped his fingers showing that he was proving a point, “After the shooting happened at your birthday party, Negan realized that it was pushing you and Joel closer together. We were supposed to stop it, but he couldn’t handle you being with Joel. So he told me to keep things going. Begged me. The country singer was an accident. He had a mind of his own, Poppy wasn’t supposed to happen. That was my mistake not making sure that it was someone who understood better, but this whole thing happened because Negan wanted you for himself.”

“Why are you doing this Simon? You were my friend,” Negan reminded Simon, but it didn’t seem to effect Simon when he simply shrugged his shoulders. 

“How do you think I fucking feel Negan? I am your friend, I got you this job. I didn’t expect you to fall in love with Philip Blake’s daughter. You were just supposed to do your fucking job. I just can’t put up with this any longer. It’s gone on for too long and it’s fucking up my life. I’m sick of it and it needs to stop,” Simon interrupted Negan looking to Joel again who was just standing there staring out at Negan. Both Joel and Y/N were staring out at Negan looking for any kind of proof that this wasn’t true. “Listen, I’ll just kill the professor for you so that way he’s no longer competition for you. Then it can just be the two of you. We’ll clean up this whole mess and pin it on Ezekiel like we originally planned. Then our life can go back to normal.”

“No!” Negan called out seeing Simon lifting the gun to point it at Joel. Right when Simon was about to pull the trigger a shot went off making Simon jolt back. Negan had shot him in the shoulder to stop him from shooting Joel. A furious roar escaped Simon’s throat when he turned away from the group. Waving his hand out, Negan nodded toward the door and cleared his throat. “We need to get you help Joel. Come on, we can grab Simon and bring him with us.”

With a tip of his head, Joel cleared his throat and shook his head. Holding out his hand, Joel motioned Y/N to come to him. It made Negan lower his gun, looking back at Y/N who was staring out at him with big eyes. A shuddering breath fell from Negan’s throat when she moved around him to head over to Joel instead.

“Why isn’t anyone showing up Negan?” Joel wondered making Negan’s jaw flex with tension while he gazed back and forth between Y/N and Joel. “If someone was in charge, they would have shown up by now, right? Why aren’t they?”

“How am I supposed to know?” Negan stepped forward trying to reach out to Y/N, but she stepped back away from him. Joel urged her to get behind him and Negan could feel his heart pounding inside of his chest. “After everything I’ve done…this is how you two respond? Yeah, I didn’t like you at first Joel, but you didn’t like me either. But now? After everything, we’re a fucking trio. Remember? We all protect each other. Do you really believe I let myself get shot? That I allowed myself to get my ass beat so bad that I pissed blood for days?”

“I don’t know what to believe Negan. The person behind everything is your best friend,” Joel reasoned with Negan looking to Simon who was hunched over grabbing his arm. “And you are incredibly good at killing people. Simon isn’t wrong. For someone who claimed to never kill a person before, you do it really well.”

“So are you,” Negan reminded Joel with a shake of his head, lowering his gun when he spoke to the two of them. “I can’t believe this. After everything we’ve been through together, you really believe the shit that he is spewing? There are so many plot holes in his story.”

“Is there?” Joel questioned, his eyebrow arching up in curiosity drawing Negan to let out a hurt sound. “How did he know that we were getting closer after the shooting at her birthday?”

“I called him every fucking time we stopped and you know that,” Negan reasoned with Joel stepping forward. It made Joel raise his gun up further stopping Negan from getting any closer. “Why would I hurt Y/N? I wouldn’t. She was the only reason I was still here. I love her. And I…I thought the two of us…”

“Dear God Negan. You’re sinking the ship in both of them? You fell in love with him too?” Simon shot back at Negan making Negan’s hazel eyes narrow and he raised his gun back at Simon again who stood. “I can’t believe you shot me, for him. Of all fucking people.”

“Just put the gun down Negan so we can figure all of this out,” Joel suggested seeing the way that Negan looked to Y/N. “We’ll take Simon and we can figure things out.”

“You really think I had something to do with this?” Negan begged for an answer from her seeing the confusion that flooded into her features. “Y/N, I love you so much. I promise you, I would never do something like this. I’ve done bad things in my life. I have. You know that. But what I feel for you, I love you so fucking much. I would have died for both you and Joel. Why would I do this to protect the two of you?”

“Because you didn’t want them to find out,” Simon screamed at Negan seeing the way that Y/N was staring out at Negan. “You’re making it more obvious Negan. I knew you were fucking obsessed with her, but the begging. And wanting the professor’s approval too?”

“You’re fucking with the people I care about,” Negan snarled holding his gun up in Simon’s direction making Simon roll his eyes. Stepping forward, Y/N reached out to place her hand in over the side of Negan’s face getting him to look at her with his hazel eyes. “Please…”

“I believe you,” she whispered drawing Negan to loosen up before her. “There is only one person in this world that I’ve counted on my whole life to keep me safe and it’s you.”

“You mean that?” Negan inquired with a small quiver of his bottom lip and she nodded her head, tipping up on her toes to brush a kiss over Negan’s lips. It made him exhale loudly while she stroked over the side of his face. “I promise…”

“I know,” she reached for Negan, leading Negan closer to them. “Simon is trying to fuck with us Joel, but Negan’s not lying. I have never in my life felt safer with someone than I do when I’m with Negan. He just wants to keep us safe.”

“You are such a stupid little girl,” Simon called out from where he was drawing their attention to him from where he was holding his gun. Joel was moving toward them and Simon raised his gun. “This shit would have been so much easier with the professor fucking gone to begin with. If he wasn’t there on your birthday…”

Tossing the gun up, Simon didn’t wait this time. Joel tensed up hearing the gun go off and he gasped when Negan threw himself in front of Joel after shoving Y/N aside. The sound of the gunshot echoed throughout the warehouse when Negan fell forward against Joel. Clinging tightly to Negan, Joel felt his heart racing realizing what happened.

“Ah shit,” Simon snarled when Negan fell to his knees and he realized that Negan had taken the bullet instead of Joel. “You weren’t supposed to do that. You were the only one I wanted to keep alive you idiot. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Hey,” Joel clung to Negan, his hand pressing in over Negan’s back feeling the blood that was against his fingertips. Dropping to the ground with Negan’s body, Joel let out a tremoring breath when he realized how much Negan was bleeding. “Negan?”

“Negan,” Y/N called out sliding down in beside them seeing Negan reaching out to her and she grabbed a hold of his hand.

“I made the choice for you,” Negan whimpered causing her chest to ache realizing that Negan was referring to the conversation that they had the day before. “I didn’t do this. I just want to keep you both safe. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Hey, no,” she shook her head motioning to the door. “We need to get him out of here.”

“Come on,” Joel tried to pull Negan up making Negan cry out in pain and he fell back onto the ground. Crawling in beside Negan she pulled him into her arms and she tried to pull him up to the best of her ability. “We have to get you help.”

“I can’t move,” Negan shook his head with broken breaths, his hand lifting to see the blood that was covering his fingertips. There was fear in Negan’s eyes while she pulled him in closer to her chest. Burying his head against the center of her chest Negan winced and she kissed at his forehead. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize,” she shook her head feeling tears swelling at her eyes while Joel sat on his knees beside Negan. “We need to get help. Now. Call someone.”

“No one is calling anyone,” Simon asserted stepping forward raising his gun up seeing that Y/N was pulling Negan in closer to her body to hold him close. In her arms, Negan’s body went limp and Simon sighed loudly. “He wasn’t lying,” Simon informed them with a huff staring down at Negan in her arms. “As much as I love this fucking guy, we needed someone to fall back on and he was the perfect scapegoat. The bodyguard that became obsessed with the woman that he was watching over? It fit him perfectly. He already had pictures up of you at his apartment. I hate that he has to die, but now I guess it makes it easier to sell the story. Not that it’s going to be hard anyways. I mean look at how fast the two of you believed the story I was selling. He gave his all for the both of you and look at what you did to him. You turned your backs on him as soon as you could.”

Lifting his gun up, Simon pointed back and forth between the two of them before finally settling in on Y/N, “I wish you would have just died that first night. It would have made things so much easier. Instead you made this shit so damn hard for me. All of you were such a pain in the ass. Goodbye Y/N. You and Negan can die together.”

Closing her eyes tightly, she heard the sound of a gun going off and let out a shuddering breath when she realized that she wasn’t struck. Opening her eyes, she looked to see that Simon was looking down toward the center of his abdomen where he was bleeding. Looking beside her she saw that Joel had a gun that he had in his hand that he had obviously hidden previously. Dropping his gun, Simon fell backwards and his blood started to pool on the floor.

Motioning Y/N to move, Joel looked over Negan seeing that he was still breathing, but barely, “We need to get him out of here,” Joel announced picking up Negan from the ground in his arms with a roar. Carrying him toward the door, Y/N quickly followed after him only for the lights to go out leaving a small light from only the exit sign flooding the room. A few gunshots went off and Joel cry out followed when the lights came back on Y/N could see that he was on the floor with Negan and Joel got shot in the shoulder on the same side he had got shot in the arm. Scrambling to help them, she didn’t know what to do at this point. “Get out of here!”

Movement was seen in the back of the room and Joel shot off a few shots with his good arm making a body drop to the ground when it was obviously one of Simon’s men that they had missed previously when they entered the building.

“You fuckers,” a slurring sound was heard when Simon started to pull himself up showing the blood that was dripping from his lips. “If I’m going to die, I’m going to die knowing that you both are fucking gone.”

A gunshot went off and Simon fell to the ground in a thud and this time the gunshot was to the head so there was no getting up anymore for Simon. Lifting her eyes, Y/N saw that it was her dad standing behind Simon holding the gun that Negan had dropped.

“Dad?” Y/N muttered seeing the way that her father’s head slowly rose to meet her stare. Getting up from the ground, Y/N scrambled over to her father to wrap her arms tightly around him to hug him. “What are you doing here?”

“I had some men watching Simon because he’s been acting suspicious,” Philip explained hearing Joel wincing out as he pulled himself into a standing position trying to reach for Negan. “They found a paper that Simon wrote information on and I came as fast as I could.”

“I need help,” Joel called out with a desperate sound trying to pick up Negan with all of his might.

“Let’s get all of you guys to the hospital,” Philip suggested moving forward after putting the gun into the back of his pants. Leaning down to try to help Joel pick Negan up, Y/N headed over toward Simon’s body to pick up the gun that was there. “Come on honey, we need to get Negan help.”

Going to move forward, Y/N stopped when she spotted the safe that was still exposed in the wall. Swallowing down hard, she looked to Simon thinking about how he seemed to be waiting for someone the whole time. Stepping toward the safe, she shakily reached her hand out to the dial doing the combination that she had known for so long. Letting curiosity get the best of her, she knew that it should have been the last thing that she did, but she couldn’t help it.

“Come on!” Joel called out looking back over his shoulder seeing her standing at the safe. “What are you doing?”

Putting in the last number, the sound of the safe opening was heard making Joel and Philip both turn to face her while they were holding a limp Negan up by wrapping his arms around their shoulders. Negan was soaked in blood at this point and he should have been her number one priority, but when the safe pulled open she felt her heart sink. A shuddering exhale fell from her throat seeing the stacks of money that were inside of the safe. Involuntarily her body began to tremble and it was followed by a nervous sound from Philip.

“How did you get that open?” Philip inquired with tension in his tone. “It must have been left open.”

“It was your combination dad,” she informed her father swallowing down hard when she turned on her heel to stare out at her father. Uncomfortably Philip laughed. “It was the day you made your first million. I know because I stole mom’s necklace from your safe years ago. I’ve always known your combination. That means this safe is yours. This building is yours. Simon was working for you and waiting for you. You’re the person that put the hit out on me. Your own daughter.”

“Come on,” Philip grumbled staring out at Y/N with a look of disgust plastered over his features. “I’m a lot of things, but you think I would kill my own daughter? It had to be Simon that did it. He knew everything. He had all of my resources!”

“No, he didn’t know the combination. He was waiting on you to show up the whole time,” she snapped at her father making Joel’s gaze switch to Philip who was shifting uncomfortably at the other side of Negan. “Simon had no idea. Not once did he trash your name. It was you that he was working for.”

“Hell,” Philip scoffed pulling out his gun making Y/N gasp out when Philip shot Joel in the leg. Immediately Joel dropped to the ground with Negan falling in over him. Sounds of agony filled the air when Philip marched forward and Y/N attempted to lift the gun, but Philip swung the gun out hitting her in the face with an incredible amount of power knocking her to the ground. “Simon wasn’t wrong. You are an incredibly stupid little girl. How you have my blood running through your veins and you are like this is beyond me.”

Crying out, she pulled her hands away from her face to see that her nose was bleeding and there was an incredible amount of heat flooding her face. Slamming the door shut on the safe, Philip growled out and tossed his hands up in the air.

“You had to let your curiosity ruin everything. If you would have just kept your fucking mouth shut, we could be on our way to the hospital and both men in your life would be okay,” Philip alerted her waving the gun about in the air. “Instead you have to do what you do best and fuck shit up. It’s what you were always good at.”

“Why?” she pulled herself up into a seated position bracing her back against the containers that were behind her.

“Why not?” Philip responded, kneeling down before his daughter making her look up at him with big eyes. “You are a fuck up Y/N. I’m running for governor and honestly? I’ve never really liked you all that much. It wasn’t that hard of a thing to come up with. A tragedy often sways the public vote toward someone who lost everything. If you died, it was guaranteed that I would win hands down. Especially now that the news channel is suggesting that Ezekiel had something to do with that. But see, the media is easily corruptible. You hand them some money and they are eager to do whatever you tell them. Money fucking talks sweetheart. It’s what keeps me going. I need to win. You know that I’m projected to go all the way to the white house if I get elected as governor. I have this happen, Ezekiel loses by large amounts and I don’t have to worry about the wrong media focusing on the fact that I’m not a family man because I kicked my troublesome daughter out of my life.”

“All so you can win governor?” she blurt out feeling the world spinning around her while her father stared out at her with his intense blue eyes. “I lost my best friend because of this.”

“Poppy was never supposed to die. You were. Then Joel, Poppy and Negan had to get in the fucking way,” Philip snarled down at her, throwing his finger up toward Joel and Negan. “If you would have just died that night at the party, Poppy would still be alive. Negan and Joel wouldn’t be bleeding out.”

“You’re a piece of shit,” she whimpered seeing Phillip think about it before nodding.

“I am, you’re not wrong about that,” Philip shrugged letting out a tense sound as he stayed knelt before her. “Listen, we have two options here. Either I take Simon’s gun and I shoot you with it myself before killing both Joel and Negan or you take option two. And option two is very nice if you ask me. Option two is we pin everything on Simon. I allow you to keep one of the men in your life and the three of us walk away from this being able to live another day.”

“Fuck you,” she snapped at her father making him sigh out when he stood up from where he was to head over toward Negan and Joel. “Leave them alone.”

“You’re going to have to make a choice kiddo. Negan is still breathing. I see it. But barely,” Philip informed her swirling his finger over Negan. Blood was surrounding the floor around both Joel and Negan. At this point she wasn’t sure what belonged to who. “If we forget this whole thing happened, I’ll let you pick one to keep alive. If you want to pick Negan, I would suggest you do it fast though because he looks like he is bleeding out. Joel is slowly working his way there.”

“You want to just forget this whole thing happened?” she hissed out, pulling herself up into a standing position. Philip simply nodded, his eyes staring out at her when she cleared her throat.

“I’ll give you and whoever you pick all the money your heart desires. Just to disappear. You stick around long enough for the media and when it’s over you can leave. It will make sense because the media will play it like you had to get away from the catastrophic event that almost killed you and killed two of your friends,” Philip went off pointing the gun between Negan and Joel. “So pick!”

“Money doesn’t fix everything,” she stammered lifting her hand to reveal that she had Simon’s gun. Philip laughed when he saw it. “Money won’t make me a monster like you.”

“You’re going to shoot me?” Philip stepped forward, his eyes narrowing at his daughter when he stepped before her. When she didn’t pull the trigger, Philip wrapped his finger around the back of her neck and forced her forward. “Money can make anyone do anything. I fucking promise you. Watch…”

Snapping his fingers, Philip managed to get Joel to stare out at him from where he had propped himself against the wall. There was anger in his eyes while Philip pushed Y/N before Joel, “Joel Miller, if you shoot my daughter, I will give you two million dollars. I’ll fund your business, make sure your daughter and your brother get the best of the best. We will pin everything on Simon and Negan. Use the same story that Simon told you earlier.”

A shuddering exhale fell from Joel’s throat and Y/N felt her stomach sinking, “Joel?”

“See here is the thing honey. Money is more important than you. Money has always been the most important thing in the world. Money is what made this son of a bitch fuck with you in the first place,” Philip squeezed his fingers at the base of her throat making her whimper while Joel stared up at them with his intense brown eyes. “In fact, let me explain to you how important money is. When your mother left, it took her a year to settle her shit. To get help with the alcoholism, to get her own home…and then she came back for you. I offered her money to leave and never look back. And she took it. Your own mother picked a life of luxury and money instead of choosing you. I don’t care if you think Joel loves you, no one is going to turn down the kind of life that I can promise them. Well, no one other than you. And maybe Negan, but he’s not really in a position to be making decisions now, is he?”

Wincing out, she felt her father’s fingers digging tightly into her flesh, “So what do you say Mr. Miller? Do the kill shot and I’ll give you everything you ever dreamt of.”

Joel’s eyebrows twisted with tension, he was sweating and the color drained from his face. After a moment, he nodded his head making Y/N let out a whimpering breath, “Joel?”

“A man with common sense,” Philip motioned Joel to stand watching as Joel shakily pulled himself up and braced his weight on his good leg. Handing over the gun to Joel, Y/N cried out when Philip pushed her before Joel. “Come on Joel, one right between the eyes and your life gets incredibly better. You can start over new with your family.”

“Joel, please…” she begged seeing Joel lining up the gun, his dark eyes narrowing while the gun shook in his hands. “Joel…”

“You’re going to learn a lesson before you die sweetheart and that’s money is more important than you will ever…” Philip began letting out a wail when Joel swiftly turned the gun shooting Philip in the shoulder making him fall back onto the ground in a thud. Sliding back on the ground, Philip scrambled for the gun that he had gotten Y/N to drop pointing it out at Joel who stepped in front of Y/N to keep her safe. “I just offered you everything. What is wrong with you? I offered you your life back. And then some.”

“Some things are more important than money,” Joel declared with a shake of his head looking back at Y/N with a firm nod.

“I will destroy you. No one is going to believe what happened here today. They are going to…” Philip paused when he heard his voice echoing and he looked over his shoulder to see that Bill was standing behind him holding his cell phone out to show that his speech was being streamed onto one of the most popular news channels.

“I think it’s time to stop Mr. Blake,” Bill explained, tearing at the shirt that he was wearing to reveal that he was wearing a bulletproof vest. The bullet that Simon had shot him with had hit him so firmly that it had knocked him unconscious from the pain that it caused. “We weren’t the only ones here today. There was one more. And when you started talking about why you did everything, he started streaming out your confession to all the major news channels. Everyone knows what you’ve done now. Everyone. See, I came in here earlier today and disguised myself as an electrician. Said the powerlines went down and I made sure that I linked all of the cameras in here to my own personal computers. So you’re wrong. Everyone is going to believe what happened here today because they heard it from your own mouth.”

“You son of a bitch,” Philip raised his gun at Bill in attempts to shoot him, but Joel shot off once more hitting Philip in the hand making him drop the gun to the ground with a pained wail. Dropping out onto his back, Philip smiled and shook his head slowly. “You must feel big Joel Miller. Bringing down the man that ruined your life. Might as well take your final shot.”

“And make life easy for you by killing you?” Joel snarled, his dark eyes narrowing when he let out a tense exhale. Tossing the gun aside, Joel shook his head and glared down at the man who had done nothing but made his life hell. “I want you to be around to experience everything that is going to happen to you Philip. You’re not escaping this one…”

Sirens filled the air when the lights from the police cars pulling into the lot of the warehouse were heard making the color drain completely from Philip’s features. Shaking his head, Joel turned on his heel and reached down to grab a tight hold of Negan. Pulling him up in his arms, it took everything inside of him to get Negan up as he headed for the door limping.

Giving her father one final glance, she felt the police moving in around her and when they forced her father face forward against the ground, she shook her head and followed Joel out. Chasing to catch up with him, she knew that she wanted to be with Negan.

“He’s lost a lot of blood, please help him,” Joel explained with a weak exhale when he finally got Negan to the ambulance that was there. They grabbed a hold of Negan and put him onto a stretcher. Once they had Negan, Joel dropped down himself and felt himself being caught by Y/N who lowered down to the ground with him. Lifting his eyes, Joel stared out at Y/N letting out a tense sound. “You’re free from him now. You’re safe.”

There were tears in her eyes when she nodded and he reached out to stroke his fingers in over the side of her face, “If something happens to me, please take care of Sarah.”

“Nothing is going to happen to you,” she hushed him looking to see that his leg was bleeding badly as well. The paramedic reached for Joel pulling him from her arms making her let out a shuddering breath when she looked down at her hands to see they were covered in blood. It was undoubtedly mixed from both Joel and Negan.

“We need to get them to the hospital,” they informed her and she stood up to her feet approaching the ambulance.

“I need to go with them,” she asserted and they allowed her to get into the passenger seat. Once inside the ambulance, all she could focus on was the sounds of the paramedics in the back trying to help both Negan and Joel. By the sounds of what they were saying it didn’t sound good for either one of them. Nothing else mattered to her after tonight. Not her father. Not her father’s money. All that she prayed for was that both Joel and Negan would be okay. They just had to be. Or else this would have been for nothing.

[docholligay]

The Things We Find in the Minster

Big churches, by and large, do very little for me. Don’t mistake me, the architecture is astouding given the time so many of them were built in, and the sheer aesthetic brilliance of Catholic (and “Catholic-lite,” though I’m sure somewhere a C of E congregant just died at the utterance) buildings and artifacts is breahtaking, but given my time freely, it is rare that I will opt to gawk at a large building with colored panes in the windows*. 

But this, in many respects, not my vacation, but my mother’s, and the York Minster was one of the small handful of things she directly indicated as a thing she’d like to do, and so, here we were, looking at a very old and very large building with many very fancy details. This sounds very dismissive, but it isn’t, in the same way that I would expect any given person to describe a tasting menu at a Michelin star just, “eating two bites of a lot of things but it takes three hours at least”. It’s not wrong, when you arent’ the audience. 

Anyhow, I have long been a believer that mostly only boring people are bored, or find things totally irreedeemable. There are a dozen games you can play with yourself, to force yourself to engage with a place on your own level, to make it have meaning to you. I determined myself to do that, to find the human at the core of it all, which is generally how things tend to appeal to me. 

Luckily, I actually didn’t have to work hard at all. To say I worked at it would be giving me more credit than I am due. 

Because the minster had Christmas trees, sponsored or decorated or both by local businesses and schools, each decorated a different way. Little paper plate doves by children, paper chains by travel agencies, bright brass ornaments from a local metalworks. And then my eyes fell on a simple tree with a few baubles and lights, but mostly a huge number of tags over the entire thing, with writing on them. 

It was from a funeral home. 

My mother loves me very much, and from time to time I also annoy her, in the way that love often allows another person to do, and I think I was tap-dancing on her last nerve as I sat there for twenty minutes, reading these tags that people had written to their loved ones now gone. 

What do we confess to the dead? What do we wish for them? What can you to someone that goes on a gift tag, that might be read by others, but, by my measure, will mostly be passed by? What would you say about the person you loved to the strange American picking through the boughs? 

“I hope they have whisky up there, Dad.” “We went to the Christmas fair without you, and it felt wrong.” “I’m sorry I didn’t come home last Christmas.” “I don’t know if I’ll ever love Christmas again.” “I put up the lights this year, because you would want me to.” “I promise to drink two mulled wines this year.” “I’ll lay a place at the table.” 

“I miss you.” 

I filed all these little things away, these sentences or two that hold a lifetime of love and pain and expectation. These moments that show what a teardrop migt look like in the glow of a Christmas light. 

What would I say, if I could say something to any of them? Would I? Could I be so brave as to leave that bare sentence out for anyone in the world to read? I knew what I would say, but not if I had the strength to say it.

I had a moment where I felt my heart in my throat, and pulled back to make a very intense study of a stained glass Jesus in the small chapel behind me. So I suppose the answer is no--I am, as ever, an emotional coward. 

I didn’t want to leave that little tree. I wanted to read it again, I wanted these people to know someone heard them, and felt that with them, if only for a moment. That they weren’t alone in this, that these things we confess to the dead are the most human thing of all, that death never feels settled no matter how long they’re gone, but also that it stops feeling quite so wrong to do something, or not do something, sometimes both at the same time.  Summer comes. It stops being so dark. 

All the monuments to queens and saints could not move me as much as the sad little tree that barely met my height. 

The benefit of remembering things in the strange and scattered way I do, with moments of intense clarity, is that I rarely worry about forgetting the feeling of a place. I will remember this tree, and the words they said. I don’t know if there is a way the people these messages were meant for can ever hear them, but I know they did not go out into the world for nothing. I, and the writers, were together for a moment. They sat across from me and told me an open secret. 

But Mom wanted to see the Roman crypt. We live our lives on the move. We touch each other through these words like the tip of a finger to a flame, drawn back quickly but the feeling remains. I clipped down the stairs to see some old rocks, because sometimes you put up the Christmas lights out of love, even if you don’t like them. 

*This is, actually, one of the reasons I truly love tour guides, is, if you find someone passionate about the time or space, they can make things you might not care about fantastically interesting to you. I was more interested in the Minster itself in the mere moments I overheard the guide speaking to schoolchildren than I was at any of the other spectacle. 

PS I bet this is not the kind of travel writing fucking anyone signs up for and I suppose for that I apologize. This is, in truth, the way I see the world, and it doesn’t do much to inform you about a place. York is a very neat city, with extreme “Ye Olde Angland” vibes, and the people in York are so kind that if you get lost, all you probably need to do is identify a Yorkshire accent and they will probably fucking TAKE you to your hotel. We had like three people ask what our bus stop was, or where we were going, because they were worried we wouldn’t know where to get off. The Minster is a very impressively large church and they are doing some fantastic restoration there. My favorite place in York was the Sam Smith’s pub where we got to having a whole conversation with this gal and her friends, one of whom, she warned us, was, “a total chav but harmless” and she actually knew where Montana was, and as we were all chatting, told one of her friends, “oh you could fit the whole country in it” so I have no idea why she knows that but I was impressed, first time I’ve encountered someone who both knew where it was and the fucking SCALE of it. She was great, her friends were fun, I was annoyed and embarrassed by the older American couple in our “pub pod” for lack of a better word that didn’t seem to want to engage with their warmth and friendliness. (But it gave us all a good topic of conversation about where in America is like North England and where is like South after they left ahaha)

[practically-an-x-man]

Are there any in jokes or references in any of your fics people seem to be missing that you wish they'd notice and ask you about?

Thank you so much for the ask!!

Talk Shop Tuesday

Oh, SO many! There are so many references in my fics, I can't help myself! It's just how my brain fits things together, and I think it's fun. There's no way I could remember all of them off the top of my head (especially not at midnight, lol), but here's a few that are notable to me.

During the chapter of WWFA? where the tablet shows Ahk a vision of himself with his family, and later a vision of Katherine as a young teen, there are a few references. One is along the lines of "the dead do not sleep", and it's meant as a reference to a scene in Warm Bodies in which the main character (a zombie) sleeps and imagines his love interest and her friends all musing about him. Then, in the scene with Katherine, one of her bullies goes "Polka-Dots saves the day. What a joke." in response to seeing a comic book she drew herself - this is a double-reference to my beloved Suicide Squad, with the Polka-Dots line being a tie to Polka Dot Man and the "what a joke" being the final line in a fight scene between Rick and Peacemaker. That reference doesn't really have much weight for the story itself, it's just a fun little superhero reference since Katherine is also a comics nerd.

In one of the first chapters of Catch and Release, it's revealed that the Star Wars movies don't exist in Ophelia's universe - because Harrison Ford acted in Raiders of the Lost Ark with Alfred Molina, who plays Doc Ock, which causes a bit of a paradox. It's more a joke, since the MCU crosses their wires with Star Wars and other franchises anyway, but I thought it was funny

There are several MacGyver references in Smoke and Mirrors, particularly once Madison is given a multitool as a birthday gift - Lucas Till played both the reboot MacGyver and Havok, the main love interest in the fic

There are a lot of references to American Gods in Desert Song, since it's Quinn's favorite book, but one of the subtler ones is the line "had met the ground like an ex-convict meets his wife after a long stint in prison - gracelessly and with passion". This is a reference to how the book starts, with the main character Shadow eager to see his wife after being released from his prison sentence.

In Heartstrings, Kyle and Jasper are discussing middle names, and Jasper realizes they never chose a new middle name after they came out as trans. Kyle suggests "Django" as a joke - which is, in the X-Men comics, Quicksilver's middle name (though I can never figure out if it's legit or if he's joking) and Evan Peters plays both characters

In Sunshine, one of my Jasper/Kyle sidepieces, there's some description about how Kyle feels after he's been brought back to life - namely, how he feels like he still smells vaguely like death, and how he feels like he's not as warm as he should be. The first part is pulled vaguely from Pet Sematary, where the animals and people that come back are described to have this lingering smell of grave dirt. The second part is another Warm Bodies reference- what can I say? They're my favorite books, and the pinnacle of undead romance.

Obviously all of The Facts Were These (one of my Nik/Abner pieces) is based on Pushing Daisies and is aware of it, but one of the subtle details is that Abner's attempts to woo Nikoletta are lines from the show. For example, his first line is "Care to dance?" which is meant to be an echo of a scene where Ned and Chuck slowdance while wearing beekeeper suits (I want to say it's season 1 episode 2?)

Also in my Nikoletta pieces, there's a long-running Goonies reference: in the first piece I wrote for her, it's described that "they'd find her swinging from a water pipe before they put a power dampener on her", which is effectively the prison scene in Goonies. Then, in Pit of Vipers, Adrian makes a similar reference about that scene when referring to Abner - not only a callback to that first Nikoletta pieces, but a callback to Adrian Chase in the Peacemaker show, where he describes a bunch of inmates as "Sloth-from-Goonies-looking motherfuckers" just before a big fight scene.

And honestly, I'm putting a whole separate section for all the X-Men references in my 6 Underground fics, because... there's a lot

In Nom De Guerrre, AJ questions why One picked "Worthington" as his (canon) code name in one of the scenes, and he responds "Uncanny X-Men #134" - not Angel's first appearance by any means, but it sounded more interesting than just "X-Men #1"

In Desert Song, Quinn's quipping with One and he responds "I swear to God I'll sew your mouth shut" - that's a reference to the X-Men Origins version of Deadpool, who has his mouth sewn shut. Wolverine even says "Looks like somebody finally found a way to shut you up" in the movie

Also in Desert Song, during Quinn's origin flashback where she meets Billy for the first time, he sits down in the alley with her and she "looks at him like he'd just grown a pair of wings". Why a pair of wings instead of the more traditional "like he'd grown a second head"? Well, Ben Hardy played both Billy and Angel. I reference that a lot, but so do the writers of the actual movie, so we're even.

Since One's actual name is never revealed in the actual movie, I have a bit of fun with it in my fics. In Nom De Guerre, his real name is Logan - Wolverine reference, of course. And in Desert Song, it's Nathan Christopher - referencing Cable, AKA Nathan Christopher Summers. In both fics, the other characters are aware of those being comic characters and poke a little fun at him for it.

This one's in reverse, but in my X-Men fic A Love Once New (which features Angel, of course), there's a reference about how Rae lives on the fourth floor of her apartment complex and only "a parkour genius or- well, Warren" (since he has wings) could get to her balcony from the back side. Did parkour exist as a concept in the 80s? Not a clue. But the reference was worth a little anachronism.

And... yeah, there's so many more than just these. If I combed through all of my writing, I'd have hundreds of little hidden references to books, movies, comics, you name it. I love planting in those little references and details even if nobody ends up noticing them. Maybe somewhere out there I've got a reader who's a nerd in the same way I am, and smiles when they notice those little details. I can hope lol.

[bestiarium]

The folktale of the Ketelaars and the haunted castle of Maldegem [Belgian folklore]

The Belgian city of Maldegem used to be plagued by a gang of notorious bandits called the ‘Ketelaars’. The name ‘Ketelaars’ is an old Dutch word for coppersmiths who made and fixed things like kettles for a living, also called ‘Keteileirs’ in older sources. I'm not sure this gang ever really existed because I found no mention of them in actual historical sources, but there is a well-documented folktale about them (which was originally a song, called ‘de legende van het heerke van Maldeghem’ meaning 'the legend of the lord of Maldegem'):

As the story goes, the lord of Maldegem was out hunting one day deep in the woods, when he came upon a shepherd waiting for his sheep to return. This man didn’t look unusual but he did carry a beautiful, well-crafted horn that immediately caught the lord’s attention.

And so the lord dismounted and talked to the shepherd, asking if he could blow that wonderful horn of his. The shepherd protested and refused but the lord was very persistent. Eventually, he grabbed the horn anyway and blew it loudly.

Unfortunately for him, the shepherd was a bandit in disguise: all 36 Ketelaars were hiding nearby and the sound of the shepherd’s horn was the signal for the thieves to gather. The lord of Maldegem was reminded that actions have consequences – even for nobles – and he soon found himself surrounded by the entire gang of robbers. The bandits couldn’t risk their hideout being found, and so they agreed to kill the lord.

But the bandit who had disguised himself as a shepherd disagreed. Perhaps he didn’t like unnecessary bloodshed, or perhaps he was afraid that killing the lord would cause his servants to come looking for him, or maybe he simply took a liking to this odd fellow. Whatever his reason, he argued that they should let the man go and – being a talented orator – he managed to convince the rest of the gang. And so they let the lord go, but they did make him promise to ‘never speak with your mouth of what happened here today, and never write with a pen about it.’

The lord solemnly swore that he would never do either of those things, and he quickly mounted and disappeared. But he couldn’t just let those robbers and thieves go about their business, and so he rode to the city of Brugge with a plan.

When he arrived, the lord demanded a cart full of white sand. He then spilled all of the sand on the floor and spread it into a thin layer, and removed his shoe. Carefully, he wrote his story in the sand with his toe, and the onlookers understood what had happened. Immediately, a group of soldiers travelled to the hideout of the Ketelaar gang. All 36 members were swiftly arrested and sentenced to death by immurement.

The lord of Maldegem did not show mercy and ordered the construction of a subterranean dungeon with 36 chains. All of the robbers were chained to the wall, given a loaf of bread and a can of water, and then the lord’s men closed the last hole in the walls, entombing the criminals forever.

But the spirits of the Ketelaars never found rest, always lamenting their fate and how stupid they were to trust the lord of Maldegem. Unable to truly leave this world, their ghosts haunted the castle of Maldegem.

One day, the building was plagued by a supernaturally terrible storm: the heavens raged and screamed with thunder and lightning. The lord of Maldegem was struck by a lightning bolt and died on the spot. And so, the spirits of the bandits got their revenge.

This is the story as it is told by professor K. C. Peeters. My second source, which in turn cites a book from 1963 that I’ve been unable to locate myself, tells the same story with some minor differences (there, it was the shepherd who blew his horn instead of the lord).

The story of the Ketelaars is claimed to be centuries old but no precise date is given. The oldest mentions that I personally found were from J. F. Willems in 1838 and one from Frans Willems in his 1848 collection of folk songs.

In Reesinghe, Maldegem, there is a castle that’s sometimes implied to be the haunted location in the story but it’s not old enough. East of the current building, however, there are ruins of a much older fortress. I cannot say with certainty that this is where the Ketelaars were imprisoned, but I do know that it has a basement which is now dedicated to bats.

Sources: Peeters, K. C., 1979, Vlaams Sagenboek, Davidsfonds, Leuven. Volksverhalenbank Notteboom, H., 1995, een literair historische benadering van I. Rond den Heerd: de legende van het heerken van Maldeghem, Appeltjes van het Meetjesland: jaarboek van het Heemkundig genootschap van het Meetjesland, nr. 46. https://inventaris.onroerenderfgoed.be/erfgoedobjecten/58231 for the details on the castle. Willems, J. F., 1838, Belgisch museum voor de Nederduitsche tael- en letterkunde en de geschiedenis des vaderlands, Deel 2, Belgisch Museum, which you can read here. (image: the ruins of the supposedly haunted castle of Maldegem. Image source: Willems, J. F., 1838)

[thoughtsandbones]

Something familiar is in the air

Simon 'Ghost' RIley x F!MedicDoc

WARNINGS: Mention of death, war, angst, fluff, just getting the POV of our friendly neighbourhood masked menace.

Song inspo: Song of Life - Leftism

I grew up with the OG MW2 game, so there are some references to the old one, so kind of a mix of both the OG and the new timeline...

All rights reserved to the rightful owners of Call of Duty Modern Warfare.

(FYI: bold sentences... are like this... are supposed to describe redacted data/info to the plot... ;] .. )

Please do let me know how you all are finding this fanfic!c :D

MASTERLIST

PART 1 and PART 2

Part 3

~Ghost POV~

Price had told you about a new recruit coming up re-joining the 141. You think of the people still alive coming back to re-join the team.

Ghost got up from his chair in the office, walked over to the mirror. Checked himself. Making sure the mask was on right.

He moved back over to his desk and grabbed your file. It was practically useless. Majority of it was redacted. Training redacted. Name. Redacted. Year of birth though: 1991.

All you were able to gather was you were a sniper, a rookie and that you had one mission.

Ghost mentioned his suspicions about you to Johnny. Johnny said he was being paranoid..

He's assuming you started whilst he was either still in the SAS or just just with the task force. He was not sure... But he was going to find out one way or another.

Ghost made his way from his office and down the corridor to the stairs at the end. He began descending down the stairs until he reached the very bottom to reach a small boxy room.

RESTRICTED ACCESS was plastered bold in front of the single door that stood at the end of the room. He took out his key card from his inner jacket pocket and swipes the black pad. The light flickers from red to green and the door buzzes open.

Ghost walked through, walking up towards locked cabinets that had electronic keypads on them. They all lined the room.

Simon figured you had to be at least 18 to have started, born in 1991, so you had have been here between 2009 and 2010 at least.

He walked towards a cabinet numbered 011. He punches in the code and the lock clicks and the door is released. Pulling it towards him he grabs a box from the second shelf labelled 2009.

He pull out files stacked full of redacted pages. Plowing through them one by one. His tired eyes skimming the mass black lines. He moved onto another box after putting the one he had finished back.

You grunt every now and then. What was the point of keepin' these files if they're practically useless Ghost thought.

He was halfway through 2010's second box when he noticed a folder entitled Siberia.

The Captain

Ghost picks the file up cautiously. It's thin. You open it. Two sheets, double sided. Most of it blacked out.

He only heard briefly about this mission back then. All he was told that it went bad. The Captain led a small team to a remote Russian base in the mountains of Siberia.

They didn't make it back. The Captain executed.

You read over the two sheets. Only a few words visible: 2010. Two. Mountains. Captured and executed. MIA.

Seven words eh. Ghost thought, just seven words for a mission... That wouldn't happen today. Not with Shepherd now dust.

Placing the file back in the box and then back on the shelf. Ghost kneels down and brings forward a box labelled 'Personnel' on it.

He flips through the file and finds one with The Captain's name on it. He goes through the papers going through the list of soldiers The Captain had trained, just codenames and birth years, Ghost finds a match to 1991. Blue.

Blue... Ah. It began to click in his head. You were Blue.

Ghost packed the filed back. satisfied after his hunt, he knew who to expect now.

Making his way back upstairs, he received a call from Price. You had landed and were just about to arrive at base.

Ghost climbed back up the stairs and met up with Price and Soap to meet the new medic.

Price was going on about how used to work here years ago, you left and became a doctor. But now your licence is going to be revoked due to malpractice...

Ghost gave a concerned look at Price as they walked over to tarmac.

"She didn't kill anyone mate" Price exclaims once he noticed the concerned look on Ghost's eyes. "It's a whole misunderstanding" He adds and chuckles.

Soap looks up Ghost and then back to Price. He was just excited to have a new colleague.. A female colleague ;) Soap thought to himself smirking to himself.

This caught the attention of Ghost who looked back down at him. Ghost was unaware of the thought that crossed Soap's mind.

Ghost looked up and saw you ahead. Gazing up at the sky. Furrowed brows and lips that pursed to side.

You were in uniform. Green combat trousers, black jacket zipped up and the blue beret. Hair tucked in a bun at back of your skull.

Price yells your name and you look over, first at Price then at him and then to Soap.

Ghost had tried to envision your face from years ago when he was walking back up those stairs. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't, all he could think of was just an Indian person. To be honest he only guessed that cos of your name...

As you approach them, Ghost straightens up. He starts observing you straight away.

.....

The three of you reach Building 2, Soap opens the door and guides you in.

Ghost noticed your expressions on your face changed every so often. As though that face is showing the world that you are thinking, That you are taking everything in. Including him.

Every now and then, Ghost can feel you looking at him, he looks back and you just look away. Often times furrowing your brow further.

It's the mask Ghost says to himself.

Soap makes a joke about keeping you 'sweet' and nudges him pointing at you.

Ghost lets out a low grunt

Inside the building he notices you become more rigid. Tension looming across you. He sees your legs tremble slightly as you fumble with your pack retrieving a folder.

"Actually..." you start but then you trail off.

"Actually?"

"Nothing" you quip back. "Filled these out as requested by Captain Price" You added, holding out a piece of paper.

Ghost took the sheet, and quickly skimmed the form. More redacted data.

"Most of this is redacted" Ghost says those eyes still on the paper. "Like your file" he adds, hoping it would at least tease out a bit of information

But you stood there still... "Captain Price surely would've let you know why" You say curtly

Ghost looks briefly at Soap, then back at you.

"Was hopin' to get somethin' outa' you" Ghost said brightly whilst folding up the paper and placing in his back pocket.

He swiftly then picked up your pack and duffle bag, the least he could do. The look of worry flashed over your face.

Ghost looked at the woman in front of him. His eyes drifting from her beret, to those enigmatic brown eyes framed by thick black eyebrows that drew closer together the more he looked at you. Your nose round and squarish.. But your lips. They sure had a thought process of their own as they pursed and pouted. You tugged at the sleeve of your jacket.

He was teasing you and he didn't even say a word yet... :) Ghost smugly thought

A tinge of pink rising in your cheeks as you noticed him staring at you. You could see her eyes widen, as if she was saying 'back off'

Ghost relented and swung her pack and duffle over his shoulder.

Soap asked if he could carry your stuff.

"Nah, I got this Johnny" Ghost sighs and begins to head to the infirmary.

"Let's show her the infirmary" He added, walking off from you and Soap.

Once inside, Ghost observes you as you go straight to the window looking at the sunset. He could see a faint reflection in the window. You were in awe of something so simple like sunset. The way your lights just lit up watching the sun set.

Ghost walked over

"Best view on this side o' the buildin'" he says eyeing you still. You don't move or even flinch as he approaches and placed your pack and duffle down next to you gently.

"It really is something" You say in a chirpy manner.

As Ghost changed is focus from your reflection to the real you, he noticed how the sun's rays somehow just made your eyes... stunning. Not the brown colour he noted when he first inspected you. No. Your eyes had turned golden brown. Like honey.

Suddenly he felt a sharp yet soft 'ping' spread from his chest to his shoulders and down to his stomach which then fluttered..

Ghost readjusts himself. He looks at your again. Those eyes. Something has changed slightly within him.

Focus he told himself

"Johnny and I will get your room key" he finally says, looking away from you and back at Soap, who had taken his phone out and was trying to take a photo of the sunset..

"C'mon sergeant" he says walking past Soap and then stopping at the doorway.

He saw that Soap was trying to take a photo of you as you continue to watch the sunset.

Cheeky bastard Ghost thought

You turn to him and Soap, your face relaxed a bit, brows not furrowed anymore.

"Thank you Lieutenant Ghost and Sergeant Soap" You say.

Ghost continues to look at you, you smile weakly.

You must be tired he thought sympathetically

Soap comes to walk towards you

"Meet you at the Hole Lt, need to take a piss" Soap whispers as he leaves the infirmary

He grabs the doorknob and begins to close the door slowly.

Ghost returns his eyes to you, and yours to his. Both locked in. He sees you make your way towards him.

"Thanks again for carrying my stuff" you say, slightly softly, smiling weakly again.

You want me to leave he thinks as he watches your eye your hand on the doorknob. He felt something stir within him

Trying to suppress a smirk. He continues to slowly close the door.

"You are most welcome" he says, your weak smile becomes more forced

"Ruhari" he adds

Instantly your face changes from that weak soft smile to shocked as your lips form a small O. Your eyes widen.

He smiled. Something that just happened. This odd feeling just washed over his body. Across his face.

Ghost closes the door gently and walks away.

He didn't know what got into him the past few seconds. He felt a slight pleasure in teasing you just then. The smile. Your face. Your eyes. Golden brown.

.....