#the stuff they are holding is inspired from that one ghost game

[phantoms-world-and-more]

Danny after a reveal gone wrong, is dropped into the DC universe by clockwork to "recover and let loose"

He learned that because this universe is swarming with heros it dosent reeeaaallly need protection

So for the first 2 months danny juat relaxes, using his connection with the ghosts and shades of gothem to get himself a pretty good appartment with a fair amount of free time amd cash

What he wasent expecting was for the ghosts of residential obsessed billionaire bruceie wayne's parents, thomas and martha, to ask him to protect bruce

Danny thinks it over and decided, 'fuck it, how much work could it be, besides i need to protect someone anyway'

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.

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Danny was contemplating walking up and punching batman in the face

Turns out the obsessed billionaire, is a parinoid creepy emotionally constipated vigilante

It was 3 weeks into protecting thomas and Martha's "little boy" and danny was already sick of it, and of bruce, the comious amounts of time danny spent knocking out goons was ridiculous, let alone and amount of times he needed to help out the robins

And how the fuck did he raise them, the little one is so violent he could rival the way his parents talked about ghosts

It was after mid afternoon, after danny day job and he's waiting for the sun to go down to keep mr.dark and brooding safe

It was then that another shade plopped itself on his lap, this one specifically had been following him for the last few days

It was 10 minutes later that the little shade gave him an idea, an amazing idea of how to make protecting the dumb fuck that was bruce wayne MUCH more fun, danny looked at the sun and he knew he had time

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He got black cargo pants, a black tank top, a labcoat that he dyed toxic green, a white gas mask, one of those belts construction people wear to hold tools and stuff, combat boots, white gloves and a crap ton of scrap metal, househole appliances and a tool box

He spent the next 5 hours constructing little gadgets, remaking the fenton-thermos-model human and preparing for a night out.

.

.

.

Danny was set

In his labcoat was the hand held stuff

:extra tools, retractable boe staff, smoke bombs, mini fire works, trackers

In his cargo pants he had the more heave hitters: the guns he designed, more smoke bonbs, lipstick lazers, wire

But his belt was his favourite: the now human souping thermos, a harly quinn inspired mallet and the ectoplasm grenades,

Tonights going to be fun

.

.

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Batman saw alot of things, lately things have been too easy, he got hit less, goons attacks hurt less and sometimes his rouge took too long to atrack ofter breaking out of arkham

It had set him on edge

Even his kids said things seemed easer, so he's not paranoid

Tonight however gave him many more questions

During the usual fight with riddler, a kid slightly younger than tim, wearing a gas mask, dropped from the roof like the spawn of satan, dropped smoke bombs, then the sounds of violence accured

when bruce could see again, all the goons were strung up on wire upsidedown

The riddler was tied to a chair which was hanging by one leg over a vat of...something with a smile drawn on his face and his eyes blindfolded

When he looked up the labcoat wearing kid was holding a mallet and a grenade of some kind

:awww dont worry, none of them will die, I'm like you in that sence, i dont kill people...howeverrr messing with them is fair game

Batman tried to stare him down but that made the kid laugh

:aww that wont work B, besides if i wanted to hurt you I'd of done it in the last 3 weeks

So this was why things were easer

With one last laugh the kid dropped the bomb and Lazarus filled Bruce's sights

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

LET THEM FEAST

This piece was inspired by this Mickey Mouse cartoon as well as this early episode from Spongebob.

So tell me, do you wanna go?

The cafeteria doors parted, swinging open as any other door would—but to Fellow and Gidel, it was as if the gates to heaven were welcoming them. Humming chatter and the smells of delicious foods churned out from beyond. Deeply inhaling, tasting the aromas in the back of one’s throat, made their bodies light and floaty, as if hunger had made them weightless.

They followed a hoard of uniformed boys with trays, drifting to buffet stations loaded with dishes they could only dream of. Slabs of roast beef dripping with mushroom gravy, racks od lamb, game birds with crisped skin, fish glistening with herb butter, steaming stews with vegetables bobbing in a sea of rich broth, fluffy rice, cakes sliced wide and trifles stacked tall. The paper-thin slice of bread and beans they had for supper had never looked quite so sorry.

Gidel didn’t notice that his mouth was agape and slick with saliva until a cane tucked under his chin and closed it for him. Fellow pulled the young boy close, a hand on his arm as he wildly gestured to the waiting delicacies.

“Take a gander, Giddie! All that food’s free and ours for the taking!!” he chirped. “Ready your fork and knife, we’re going to eat like kings today!”

Arm in arm, the duo dove into the bar, grabbing as much as they reasonably could. Generous scoops of mashed potato, the biggest pieces of meat, plenty of sauce, the largest loaves. Gidel rushed about with an apple crammed into his mouth and Fellow snuck oyster crackers into his breast pocket (as a late-night snack).

While their plates piled higher and higher, the mob students grew more irritable. Elbowing them out of the way, snatching up popular itwms, and taking far more than their share had the tendency to invoke ire. The mobs casted dirty looks at Fellow and Gidel, others raising their voices at the kitchen.

“Oi, where’s the refill of tomato soup? I’ve been waitin’ for forever over here!”

“When’re the dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggies gonna be done…”

“I’m so hungry I could eat a whole horse. What’s the damn hold up?!”

“Be patient, boys!” a ghost chef callee back. He grunted as he hailed a vat of curry off of the stove. “It takes time to prepare the food.”

“They’re ravenous today,” remarked the lead chef. “Wonder what’s going on. We normally don’t have to prepare this much.”

By this time, Fellow (trailed by Gidel) had pushed his way to the front of the crowd. He set down his tray (the tower of food upon it wobbling, threatening to collapse) and waved enthusiastically at the chefs.

“Afternoon, gents! How’s it going? Looks to me like you’re hard at work feeding all these wayward souls.”

“Oh, um. Just fine, thank you.” The head chef blinked. He liked to think that he recognized all of the students and staff that came into his dining room, but he was drawing a total blank with Fellow and Gidel. “Er… Sorry, are you new around here? I don’t think I’ve seen you boys before.”

“Fufu, that’s right. We’re new to these parts.”

“They ain’t even students,” an angry mob student behind him piped up.

The lead chef startled. Worry crumples his round, marshamallowy face. “Oh dear, not students? The buffet is only open to them and staff.” He glanced at Fellow’s pickings. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to return all that.”

Anger and annoyance shot through the fox beastman. Tch…! Those NRC brats, looking down on me! Why should they get to gorge themselves on this stuff while the rest of us beg for their scraps?!

He reached down and gripped Gidel’s hand, giving the young boy a reassuring squeeze. Gidel offered a sleepy grin back.

Watch this. I’ll turn this entire situation around and have them eating out of the palm of my hand.

He let out a theatrical gasp, then summoned his most charming smile. “My bad, I forgot to introduce myself! You see, I am a health inspector sent by the Department of Magic Education to evaluate your menu! Gidel here’s my trusty assistant.”

The leader of the ghost chefs scratched his head. “Huh? Is that what a health inspector does…?”

“Of course, or cooourse! All a part of the job description, my friend.” Fellow indicated his absurd amount of food. “They’re looking to implement new standards for magic school menus—and where better to look at as a model for reference than THE famous Night Raven College? The education it offers is elite, so the meals it offers must be elite as well! That’s why they’ve sent us to try one of everything, to evaluate the quality of your wares.”

Gidel bobbed his head. (He had little clue what he was actually agreeing with, but he agreed nevertheless.)

“Come ON, you don’t seriously buy this crap, do you?” a mob student groaned. “The old fart’s clearly lying!!”

Other voices joined him, but they all fell upon deaf ears. The head chef’s eyes sparkled, his pasty white cheeks rosy with excitement.

“Oooooh, why didn’t you say so sooner?! W-We will absolutely do everything in our power to accommodate your needs, Sir Health Inspector!” He turned to his kitchen staff. “Isn’t this so exciting, everyone? We’ll be the first group of ghosts to receive a fancy accolade after death!”

A murmur of approval weaved through the kitchen. The dining room, however, erupted into a fresh round of protests.

“You’re joking!!”

“That’s such an obvious lie.”

“How can you believe that bullcrap?!”

Keheheh, never underestimate the power of this Fellow Honest-sama’s silver tongue 🎶 I didn’t even need to use my unique magic to cut to the front of the line. Some people are just born suckers and stay suckers in the afterlife.

He smirked, giving a triumphant twirl of his cane. “Sorry, folks! You snooze, you lose. We get first dibs on everything~”

“Hah?! What’d ya just say to me?” A vein bulged on a Savanaclaw student’s forehead. He was about double Fellow’s width and rippling with muscle. “Like hell you are!”

“The way you talk is pissin’ me off!!” chimed in a Diasomnia student. He drew his baton and aimed it at Fellow. “I oughta shut you up for good!”

The idea was a seed, taking root and festering among his peers. Other students were producing their own magical pens, out of pockets and from inside vests.

Fellow paled, balking but keeping himself between the mobs and Gidel. “H-Hey now, can’t we talk this over? Violence doesn’t solve everything, you know!”

“YES IT DOES,” the mobs retorted—in unison for once. Hungry and angry, a terrible combination.

Gidel whimpered. No sound, but Fellow could sense it in the way the boy retreated into his coat. A free hand found its way to the small of Gidel’s back, keeping him upright.

Don’t let them see you like that. Weak, downtrodden. It’s letting them have the moral victory.

His grin widened. He was a fox looking to sink his teeth into unsuspecting prey.

“Why spend your youth grumpy and causing trouble? You should lighten up, live a little, laugh a little. Here, I’ll show you how. Just follow me! Come on to the Theater!! Life is Fun!!”

Fellow spun his cane, releasing a light shower of sparkles upon the crowd. They floated down, popping like popping on their skin. Eyes glazed over, twisted expressions slackened.

“Now then!!” Fellow, raised his cane like a baton, still spinning as he conducted his herd. He, poised as the ringleader. “Right this way, right this way, gentlemen! Let’s have a lively parade to the courtyard on this fine day!”

“The weather is nice today…”

“Coach said I need to get more exercise in.”

“I’ve been stressed about classes, I need to take this break.”

Marching—one, two, one, two—Fellow led the procession out of the cafeteria. He belted out a tune as he ushered students through the exit.

“Hi-diddle-dee-dee, actor's life for me!”

(Gidel pranced in and out of the line of students, reaching into pockets and retrieving miscellaneous items. Pencils, a keychain, spare change. He stashed them under his hat.)

“A high silk hat and a silver cane, a watch of gold with a diamond chain!”

When the last student was gone, Fellow made a U-turn and rushed back into the cafeteria, slamming the doors behind him. He dropped his smile, letting it shatter like a porcelain teacup and not bothering to salvage the remains.

“Sheesh, they’re finally out of my fur!” Fellow sighed deeply. “Those rotten kids really had to make me work hard for my meal...”

Gidel scrambled over to him, pulling out the various items he had clumsily pilfered. Look what I got! he seemed to say.

Fellow brightened, ruffling the child’s messy brown mop. “Atta boy, Giddie! We sure showed those snooty rich kids what for, eh?”

At that moment, the head chef bursted out of the kitchen juggling a tray of apple strudel. He was followed by several other ghosts, each carrying a new dish.

“Sorry for the wait, here’s the… Huh?” The head chef glanced around the nearly empty cafeteria, his brows knitting. “Where did everybody go?”

“Must’ve gone out for a stroll Fine by me, they’re letting us get right down to business,” Fellow laughed, clapping a hand on Gidel’s shoulder. “C’mon, that’s enough excitement for one day. Let’s dig in!”

[resident-idiot-simp]

Inspired by this

Ft: @steriotypicaloutlaw & @existentialgaybirdnerd

I like to imagine Simon just randomly shows up places to do things for fun since he's legally dead. A random marathon here. A random convention there. Maybe there's a thread on 4chan or something wondering who the hell this guy is

Bird- "I swear I saw this guy before, he won (extremely specific race)" and there's a whole board about him

He just shows up around the world randomly and does incredible feats and then disappears again

Bird- "This guy shows up, kicks everyone ass at ANYTHING, then disappears without a trace. He's gotta be a superhero of SOME SORT"

Someone catches him in the wild one time holding the hand of this dude with a mohawk.

StO- Imagine Gaz having followed said board, also never saw Ghost without the mask or balaclava, and then he sees him there and he's just like, "I get to see him live!" And then Price reacts the way he does and Gaz is just like, "Wait! I know mystery Batman guy?!?"

Bird- "Mystery Batman guy is my SUPERIOR OFFICER? "

But they can trace Soap they know who this guy is. Imagine like a million people from 4chan just dog pile him in every social media platform wondering who the hell the man is. Soap knows about this I also bet you money ghost haunts the thread he knows everything he does this stuff on purpose at this rate.

And he made soap promise never to say a word. So soap gas lights like he's never gaslit before. I don't know who you're talking about that is not me you're delusional. 'It is you though'. No I was never there with a person ever in my life.

Bird- "Idk who tf you think that is, but I'm way more handsome than that"

Of course they can't fool Gaz but they do recruit him into the game. Laswell also knows about this

Bird- Laswell had been on the board since it started lol

At first it was just to make sure his identity didn't get leaked and now it's just for fun

Bird- She gives them vague hints in the wrong direction, photo shopping specific events that didn't happen to make it seem like he gets out more than he does.

Bro one time the catch Ghost in Cancun just surfing. No one knows where he went after they tried to follow It didn't work.

Bird- This man has fans all around the world but they can never get a picture of him without his permission.

What really gets people is he can be found across the world in very short periods of time. People assume he must be like one of those hidden billionaires.

Bird- That's why he's Batman to them

One time they got a picture of him super injured though and now they are convinced he's a superhero

Bird- There's a whole folder of circumstantial evidence of him being hurt and everyone going "evidence he's a superhero"

He is most often found is not in ridiculous events in Scotland and that is more evidence that he's connected to John MacTavish even though MacTavish denies everything. People are unsure if MacTavish is like his sidekick or butler or secret boyfriend/husband.

Ghost convinces him to do weird events as well and dominate them just to confuse the forum.

Bird- They're both superheros in their own right just a few months later according to the forum

One time the are spotted together at a log throwing competition. Then MacTavish at an art exhibit (Ghost is barely visible in the background). Next week in Cuba doing an eating competition.

Three days later San Diego Comic-Con. No one understands anything that's going on.

Bird- Ghost and Soap have a fun time reading through all the shit. They're in full cosplay too, they're only recognized because of Soap's Instagram story the day after and then everyone explodes because they SAW them but didn't recognize them until them. Ghost as scream and Soap as Jason.

Imagine one time they just show up on TV or the news in the background

Bird- There's a parade going on in the background and they show up as performers or part of the audience. The news reporters don't catch them as they wave enthusiastically to the camera.

They come to the conclusion that they know about the forums and then it becomes trying to dig out the rat.

Bird- They try to sus out the account that could be one of them, little do they know Ghost is one of the longest running ones there so his account isn't suspected at all times.

I imagine a random selfie gets uploaded to the forum as well.

Bird- He posts a selfie from a "found" social media that just HAPPENS to be "deleted" before anyone else can access it.

The people on the forum are extremely happy though that this random probably superhero is playing along.

He shows up in the Winter Olympics next. And he crushes the biathlon by a scary margin. After he gets the gold he proposes to Soap

Soap's bio gets updated to John MacTavish Riley. Soap continues to gaslight. That has always been my full name YOU'RE all delusional.

I imagine they only get their answers possibly after they all retire

Bird- Simon gets unkilled by law and is allowed to retire with Soap. They make a video explaining how they were fucking with people for entertainment and post it to the forum and everyone loses it lol.

[vicsy]

Had no idea what to pitch so I literally looked up one word prompts and chose the first few. Pick whichever inspires: Daniel x Max + Sunburn/Tease/Emerge/Afternoon/Impulse/Nurture/Rough/Polaroid/Good

maxiel + polaroid, sunburn

"Drink?"

"Nah, I'm good, thanks. Can't stay long. Duty calls!" Daniel makes an exaggerated gesture. Max cracks a smile. He probably follows the pundit stuff Daniel does more than actual racing these days. "Just wanted to pop by since you're back to calling Monaco home. Nice place, mate."

If not for the sim rig installed in an empty guest room that could have been a nursery in a life he brushed aside, nobody would have ever guessed Max lived here. His new apartment was clean, spacious, incredibly faceless. A simple home for a creature of habit Max always was but not quite a home.

"I wanted to go watch the race this weekend," Max admits and pads through the cluttered living room to the adjacent kitchen, straight to the fridge. It's shiny, sophisticated and very empty, except for a monthly supply of Red Bull and yesterday's leftovers. He grabs a can for himself, wishing he had that beer Daniel used to love. "But I am of course happy to see you after, well. Who knows, yeah?"

Couple years, give or take. Max stopped counting after turning thirty-three.

Behind him, Daniel claps his hands together. Max throws a surprised look over his shoulder, blindly rummaging in the fridge. The shine of Daniel's smile hasn't diminished over the years, but the crow's feet around his eyes, Max discovers, are more prominent than he remembers. He wonders if Daniel notices the little changes about him, too; if he cares for them at all. Max does.

"Oh, congrats on your team winning, uh, another virtual racing thingy," he delivers the line with that old, addictive enthusiasm and, to Max, it's a gut punch. He schools his face, a lump forming in his throat. Daniel gives him a thumbs up, turns around and walks along the empty shelves attached to the TV wall. The lack of decor there makes it look kind of pathetic. Max had only managed to put two of his WEC trophies on display, a helmet he wore for the last race and a nice-looking box of assorted knick-knacks dear to his memory. "Any plans to decimate Le Mans this year, Mr Three Time champ?"

"Fernando is busy with Dakar, so probably I'll skip it. Oscar texted me about doing it next year together, so," Daniel's back is facing him still. Max closes the fridge and opens the Red Bull can, places it on the kitchen counter. Stares at it for a second or two. Then, out of a long-forgotten habit, Max goes for a poorly planned half-joke. "Didn't know you started watching iRacing in your old age. Quick, what's a livestream?"

It's a desperate attempt to even the gap between now and before. Daniel flips him a bird without looking, too occupied with whatever he found on Max's sad little shelves.

"Har, har, fucker. I mean, I gotta keep myself in the game, everything is changing, like, a lot. And, come on, it's you–" he stops talking. Max takes a sip from the can, watching Daniel finally face him. "Huh. Didn't know you still have these."

Max has gone lengths without having to experience a solid enough crash and the debilitating aftermath reverberating through his body. In the sun-flooded apartment, on the freshly turned page, it catches up to Max as abruptly as a rainstorm in the summer.

Forty-three year old Daniel is standing in his unfurnished living room, a splotch of color among the backdrop of generic white paint and a mount of unpacked boxes. Forty-three year old Daniel, with a sprinkle of salt in his hair and a tan line on the ring finger of his left hand, looks at Max like he's a ghost from the past, like it's him who just had to ruin everything when things got too real. He wasn't there when Max paid the price of his own happiness in retaliation.

Forty-three year old Daniel, who sent out an invitation to a wedding Max never attended, holds up two tiny polaroids taken almost a decade ago and all Max can think of is his signature on the divorce papers, the ink still wet.

He swiftly closes the distance to Daniel and snatches both pictures from him, cradles them to his chest. Daniel's hand is left suspended in the air between them. Max ignores the wobble in between his ribs. His eyes trace the line of the rose tattoo in the direct line of vision, memory bristling, anger thrumming underneath his skin.

"I kept them," Max spits. He doesn't mask the bitterness in his voice. He had it bottled up long enough the cork had gone rotten.

Daniel stares back, mouth slack. He looks good and Max hates that, hates his stupid colorful hoodie and his meager attempts to make amends. Above all, Max hates himself for ever conceding. Daniel has always had one foot out the door. Missed chances were Max's fuel and they've still propelled him back to square one.

"Yeah. I figured," Daniel says, too soft, too familiar. Placating. Max should ask him to leave.

Instead, he drops his gaze to the polaroids laid flat on his palm. They're in good condition but Max also hadn't looked at them in months, maybe years; it doesn't matter since those Daniel and Max, everything they stood for, ossified and turned into dust. It doesn't keep Max awake at night anymore.

Out of the two photos, only one comes from the Red Bull PR department. They never cared when it went missing. Max remembers the video they shot too starkly to be unbothered it ever happened — him and Daniel in matching team gear, insane rain in Monaco; Max winning that weekend and Daniel watching from the pit wall.

The other polaroid, a bit rough on the edges, had never seen the light of day. It captured just a part of Max's sunburnt face, a corner of his smile; Daniel's lips pressed to his cheek, his wet curls in disarray. Max gets a phantom ache in his chest when he remembers how the camera ended up in the sand, falling off a small table where they had propped it up against a half-empty cocktail glass.

Daniel cups Max's hand holding the photos from underneath, painfully hesitant. Max flits his eyes up to the hollow of Daniel's throat, to his full beard; to the pleading look stabbing daggers into the soft edges of Max that were once hard and unforgiving. 

Stashing those polaroids was Max’s way to forget he wished to go back. He was never the one to leave in the first place; that was Daniel's sworn prerogative. But he's in Max's living room now, a lifetime away from running.

"Max–"

"I think," he cuts in before Daniel makes it worse or gives him hope. His hand slips from Daniel's hold and Max retraces his steps back to the kitchen. Daniel tracks his every move. "I think I will put them here."

He sticks the polaroids to the enormous fridge door with a Welcome to Monaco magnet he fished out of a nearby drawer. The photos look whacky but, to Max, it's a long shot. He lingers in place, berating himself for giving this another chance. 

When he turns back around, Daniel is just an arm's length away.

"About that drink," Daniel says, low. Max watches his tongue dart out, wetting his lips. His heart jackhammers against his ribs.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Max's back hits the fridge.

Send me a ship/character(s) and a one word prompt and I will write a 5 sentence fic abou

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

Hey so I just found your account and omg?? it's literally so amazing 😭✋

Anyways-I was just looking through a bunch of the twist monster au headcannons/stories, and I thought of a scenario that could be done!

Basically the cast reacting to gender neutral or female reader/yuu acting stuff out in their book they are reading like poses, dialogue, just genuine reactions to the text itself

ex. Throwing the book across the room and them being genuinely concerned that something happened bc reader is just staring off into space or cursing but what actually happened was either a character died/did something embarrassing/the mc and love interest finally kiss

Anyways that's all I had in mind hope you have a good day/night! <3

Omg thank you! I’m so glad you’re enjoying the content! QvQ

Ah, books. Such a wonderful creation humans made to fill us with raw, pure emotion or shattering our hearts and souls into a million tiny pieces—only for us to read it again and again! Don’t you just love those moments as a reader? UvU

Except for cliffhangers. Readers have a love/hate relationship with it, writers adore cliffhangers! ÒvÓ

So, what happens if we take a bookreader!Yuu (they/them) and throw them into Twisted Monsterland where even the history books read like a world guide/omnibus to a game or TV series? Oh, and I took a bit of inspiration from a Disney princess comic and a Bill Watterson “Calvin and Hobbes” comic for two of these scenarios. 😂

/-----------/

“Jeez, you sure you’ve got enough books, Yuu?”

“The librarian wouldn’t let me check out more than ten at a time,” Yuu replied, their backpack and arms filled with thick books. “Wish I could’ve gotten ten more at least, but this’ll do for now.”

“Are you sure you can even read all those before next semester?” Deuce asked in concern. “Those look pretty…dense.”

“Oh, I’ll be done in a week. Maybe a week and a half if we get a lot of homework.”

“Funya?! You gotta be kidding me!” Grim said. “Can humans read that fast?”

“Not everyone. Some people are slow readers, but that’s okay since they enjoy it at their own pace while I enjoy it at mine. Only problem for me is choosing which one of these I want to read first!”

/Later that night/

“Yuu? It’s time to eat!” Grim called out. Silence greeted him as he stared at Yuu, who was sitting on the couch with their face practically buried in a book. Frowning, the chimera padded over to the couch and repeated, “Yuu! I’m hungry!”

Still the human didn’t seem to respond, their shoulders hunching as they turned the page.

“Yuu? Yuu!” Huffing, Grim crossed his arms as he glared up at them. “You’ve been reading for the past three hours! How much longer are you gonna read that book?”

“What’s going on, pal?” one of the ghosts asked as the trio appeared.

Gesturing his paws at Yuu, he said, “They’ve been reading ever since we got back from the library today, and now they’re not reactin’ to me. It’s dinner time and they haven’t made any food yet!”

Before anyone could even think of what to say, a loud, shrill squeal filled the dorm.

“Eeeeeee!!!” Yuu squealed, a huge grin on their face as they flopped to the side and kicked their legs like a nervous rabbit while holding the book against their chest. “Omg it happened, it happened!!”

“Mrah!? What?! What happened?!” Grim yelled, wings flared out defensively while his fur bristled. “Why are you yelling!”

“My new OTP!! They finally kissed!!” Yuu said, their eyes wide as they rocked from side to side. “They kissed!! Yes!! Yesyesyesyesyessssss!!!”

“OTP? What’s an OTP??” one of the other ghosts asked.

“It’s what we like to call the ‘one true pairing’ in a story,” Yuu explained, a positively giddy expression on their face with eyes shining brighter than the stars as they struck a dramatic pose. “It’s two characters who vibe with each other on a level that you just can’t help but want them to be together—and the author brought these two together!! Yeeeeeeeee, I’m so happy!!”

“And loud,” Grim grumbled, paws clamped over his ears. “Why are you standing like that?”

“It’s how the main character professed their love for the other!”

“…are all humans as weird as you?”

“Trust me, there are people out there that are way crazier in their excitement than I am right now.”

“Really?!”

“Oh yeah. Don’t even get me started on the fanfics people write.”

“Fan…fics?”

“Oh, you sweet summer child…”

/Two days later/

“Heeeey, lil’ Shrimpy~!”

“Mm…”

“Eh…? Hey, Shrimp…why are you ignorin’ us? It’s not very nice.”

“Now, now, Floyd. One mustn’t interrupt a reader when they’re indulging in such a riveting story.”

“Shh,” Yuu muttered, their brow furrowed as they hunched closer to the book. “I’m at the best part!”

Floyd frowned as he laid his head on his arms, the basilisk slumping against the table. “Man, this is lame,” he said. “You promised to come play basketball with me today!”

“Once I finish this part, we can go do whatever you want, okay, Floyd?”

Jade hummed in amusement as he said, “A rather daring proposition you just offered, Yuu.”

“We have to do a buncha reading for class anyway,” Floyd said with a bored expression. “And Crabby and Mackerel said you finished two other books already, so what’s the point of thi-”

“AAAAIIIIIEEEEE!!?!?” Yuu shrieked, leaping out of their chair as Jade and Floyd recoiled in shock. Before the twins could react, Yuu had ducked back into their chair and pressed the book even closer to their face than before.

“…lemmie see that,” Floyd said, leaning over the table to grab it.

“No, no! It’s fine, go do something else!” Yuu said all too quickly, sinking even lower and turning away from Floyd’s reaching claws. “I think I heard Riddle in the hallway.”

“Lemmie see it!”

“No! You can’t read it!” Yuu cried out, bolting away from the table holding the book tight to their chest.

“Get back here, Shrimpy!”

“Noooo!!”

“Oh my,” Jade uttered, eyes wide for a moment before he chuckled. “Perhaps I should look into this book when they’ve finished it.”

/The next day/

“Oh no…oooh noooooo, I hate this so much!”

“Then why are you reading it?” Jamil asked, the naga curled around them. “If you don’t like it, just take it back to the library.”

“I can’t! It’s soooooo good!” Yuu said, practically throwing themselves backwards onto Jamil’s snake half with the book pressed against their face.

“Eh? But wait, you just said you hated it,” Kalim said in confusion.

“I hate it, but I love it so much,” Yuu told them with a whine, their head now touching the floor on the other side of Jamil’s snake body yet still draped over him like a cat. “This book will ruin your heart and shatter your soul into a million pieces!...you should read it too!”

“Given how dramatic you’re being, it might not be wise,” Jamil said with a sigh.

“Read it!”

“It’s okay, Yuu. We can read together! It’ll be more fun that way!”

“Kalim, no. You still need to study for the next potions exam.”

“Augh, I need someone to talk about this story with so we can lament in solidarity!”

“…have you been taking lessons from Rook lately?”

/Three days later/

“Um…is Yuu okay? They’re looking a little…tense.”

It had been several days since Yuu borrowed a stack of books, and already they had gone through nearly half of their hoard. Between classes and on breaks or after finishing tests, it wasn’t hard for students to notice the lone human with their nose between the pages of one book after the other. Even the researchers had taken note of Yuu’s behavior in between tests, making note of their expressions and how their body changes with each scene depicting their emotions. It was noteworthy how they reacted when a character in the story did something “cringeworthy and stupid” (as Yuu would explain when asked), it looked as though the human had swallowed a lemon.

At the moment they were sitting in Heartslabyul, yet another book in their arms as they sat on one side of the lounge. Cater had taken progression snapshots of Yuu’s body slowly curling into itself, eyes steadily growing wider and wider to the point it looked as though they’d bolt away in panic.

“They’re fine,” Grim told Trey as he munched on a snack. “They’ve been like this since they got all those books. That’s the pose they had last time when their Ohteevee smooched or somethin’.”

“Oh, you mean ‘OTP’, Grimmy,” Cater corrected with a smile. “That’s so cute! Our human has an OTP already~!”

“I’ve heard of hitting the books, but this is ridiculous,” Ace commented with a sigh. “They’ve been reading so long that I forgot what half their face looks li-”

“GRAAAAH!!!!”

SLAM! Fwump!!

“Gyah!?” the boys yelped, everyone staring at Yuu as they sat on the couch with a dark scowl.

“Yo, what the heck? Why’d you throw the book like that?” Ace asked, pointing at the large tome on the other side of the couch now.

“Um…Yuu?” Deuce began when they didn’t respond. “Are…you okay?”

“……I’m mad,” came the response, Yuu’s expression growing more annoyed as they stared off into space.

“About what?” Riddle asked in surprise.

Yuu’s gaze turned to the discarded book, their expression as though they had been betrayed by a trusted friend as they said, “Because my favorite character died, and I refuse to read how the book ends when there’s literally two freaking pages left! That’s not enough space to bring them back in a satisfying way!!”

“Y…you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Ace grumbled with a sigh. “That big of a reaction just because a fictional character was killed off?”

“You weren’t there to see the struggles they went through! I saw them change from an annoying bully into a fully developed and vulnerable character who wanted to take charge of their life—and the author killed them off!” Jumping to their feet, Yuu marched towards Ace and Deuce’s room where they’d left their stuff and said, “Where’s my notebook? I need to fix this!”

“What are you gonna do?” Grim called out.

“Write a fanfic, because my scrunkly deserves to be happy!”

“Huh? Scrunkly??”

/Final day/

“Oh, Great Seven…what happened in your book this time?” Vil asked with a sigh.

Yuu sniffled as they tried to dry their tears, though it was difficult as more continued to flow down their cheeks. “I…I just finished my last book,” they said, their voice cracking a little with emotion as Grim pat their arm reassuringly.

“All ten books in a week?” Vil said in surprise. “That’s…impressive. Even so, why are you so upset? Was the story that horrible?”

“No…it…it…it was too good!” Yuu cried out, clutching the book so tight that their knuckles turned white as the tears flowed freely now.

“Ah…such pure, raw human emotion,” Rook crooned. “To express it so freely without fear…beaute!”

“Was the book really that good?” Epel asked.

“Yes!” Yuu wailed. “Now that it’s over, I…I don’t know what to do with myself now…”

Peering at the title, Vil gave a thoughtful hum and said, “Oh, that story. I hear there is supposed to be a spin-off book series. The first one should have released just the other day.”

“Really?!”

“Mrrr…now you’ve done it,” Grim grumbled with a sigh. “Here we go again.”

[bravo4iscool]

Hey hey, I'd like to give an idea!!

I know that a lot of people actually focus on ghost x reader stuff, AND THAT'S OK, but I've been thinking about some content of reader actually being Simon's kid or something. Because I only find content similar to it in very weird accounts that somehow turn those into incest fanfics, and it gives me the ick.

I'll understand if you just ignore this or not feel like writing it, I just felt like I wanted to bring this idea up because, well, why not.

I LOVE THIS!!! thank you so much for trusting me with this! i’ll try my best hahaha.

i love simon’s!kid fanfics and all those incest fics really are the bane of my existence😭. how tf do you come up with stuff like that lmao?

anyways, since you weren’t specific with the type of fic you want i’m gonna turn this into a (toxic!)singledad!simon!AU🫣

for this i’m taking inspiration from my favourite series ‘seal team’ and its main character the navy seal master chief jason hayes.

he (jason) has two children (one daughter and one son) and is anything but a perfect father. he tried to be better after his ex wive’s death but, well…

but i don’t wanna talk too much, let’s go🫣

readers nickname is nugget btw and they have a younger brother named jacob :)

(i hope you like this, i tried my best😭)

(masterlist)

REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!

You sigh and shrug off your jacket. You’re drenched in water, a little puddle forming where you stand. You shiver and pull off your shoes with a grunt, hoping that you didn’t alert your dad.

“Hey Nugget.” You grimace when you hear your dad’s voice. You didn’t want him to notice you.

“Hi dad,” you quickly greet him, trying to squish past him but he grabs your arm, holding you back. You take a deep breath before you look at him. The sooner this was over the better.

“Why are your clothes wet?” he wants to know, looking you up and down, frowning at you.

“It’s raining outside,” you drily remark, clearing your throat when he hits you with a sharp gaze. You sigh, “You were meant to pick me up but you didn’t show up, okay? All my friends were gone and I needed to walk home.”

His grip around your arm weakens and he frowns at you again. “What do you mean, I was supposed to pick you up?”

“The way I said it. You told me you’d pick me up but you didn’t show.” You shrug. “It’s nothing new, no? Now, can I please go to my room? I’d like to change.” You wait for his answer but you get none. He only lets go of your arm, watching after you when you leave.

You peek into your brothers room before you walk into your bathroom and check after him. “Hey Josy. Have you eaten already?” you want to know, leaning against his doorframe.

He looks up from his game, smiling and shaking his head. “Nah. He came home like two hours ago. He hasn’t talked to me.” 

You roll your eyes, pushing yourself off the door frame. “Okay. I’ll quickly shower and then I’ll see what I can make. You good with that?”

“Jup,” your little brother answers, already too distracted by his video game again. You shake your head with a smile, heading towards your bathroom.

-

“You want something to eat?” you ask Simon when you start to rummage around in the kitchen. “Josy said he didn’t have anything so I thought about making some,” you tell him, barely waiting for your dad’s response.

But when you really don’t get one you turn around and and walk a couple steps into the living room. There you see him, peacefully sleeping on the couch, one arms dangling off the side and his mouth slightly agape.

You smile to yourself and carefully walk towards him to drape a blanket over him. You look at him for a second before you lift his head to put a pillow under it. Then you leave as quietly as you arrived.

When you call your brother for dinner you motion him to be quiet as he enters. “Dad’s asleep, I don’t want to wake him up,” you explain, setting Jacob’s plate down in front of him.

“Thanks,” he smiles, immediately digging into the food. “Y’know, you should become a chef with your cooking skills,” he smacks after some moments, nodding along to his statement.

You chuckle and shake your head. “You know that there’s no culinary school around here… Besides I can’t leave you or dad alone.”

Jacob only rolls his eyes at that, stuffing another fork of food into his mouth. “Sometimes I think he doesn’t even care about us.”

You immediately frown at your brother, holding yourself back from hardly scolding him. “Josy, don’t say that! Of course he cares about us! He’s just…” you try to find the right words to discribe your dad but, well… there was only one that came to mind. You sigh, “He’s just a bit difficult. You know his job…” You try to find excuses for his behaviour, knowing that it actually wasn’t but you didn’t want to hit your brother with the stone cold reality.

“He tries his best,” is the way you end the topic not knowing that Simon listened from the living room, his eyes filling with tears. Was he really that bad? Was he really failing that hard? Was he really so…unavailable to his children?

-

The next day you wake up your dad’s gone. No note, no information; he’s just gone. At first you didn’t think anything of it, he surely would be home in the evening but when he didn’t show you start to get worried.

You don’t tell Joseph about it, you keep to yourself and dial the Captains phone number. He surely could tell you where your dad was.

“Price,” he answers the phone and you let out a deep breath.

“Hi John! Is my dad with you?” you immediately ask, pacing up and down in your kitchen. “He hasn’t been home and doesn’t answer my texts or calls. I’m worried about him…” you tell the Captain, your eyes nervously darting around.

John listens to you and then tell you, “He’s not with me. We’re not due for deployment until almost two months,” he further informs you and your heart sinks.

“What do you mean, he’s not with you? Do you know where he is?” Your voice wavers and you feel your eyes starting to burn.

“I’m sorry Nugget but… I don’t know where he is…” You can hear him walking around, then he talks again. “I’ll keep my eyes out for him, okay? I’ll send someone over to you as soon as I’m finished here.”

“Oh, no no no, it’s fine. I- we don’t need someone, it’s alright,” you immediately deny, not wanting anyone else to know your dad was gone. “I’m gonna call Johnny, maybe he knows where he is. You don’t need to send someone,” you explain, chewing your nails—a habit you actually wanted to get rid of.

You can practically feel the hesitance of the Captain but after a couple seconds he agrees. “Okay. But I’ll look after you as soon as I can. I don’t want you and Joseph to be alone,” is his compromise and you can’t help but agree.

“I’ll talk to you again later, okay?” Price sighs. “Some recruit did shit and I need to fix it now.”

“Okay, yes.” You end the call, your hand wiping over your face in a state of panic. You didn’t know where your dad was, if he was okay or if he’d come back. You didn’t know how to look after yourself and Joseph, you probably needed to quit school to keep track of all the bills and-

“Where’s dad?” Joseph walks into the kitchen, headphones around his neck, munching on chips or something like that.

“He’s…at work,” you quickly lie, trying to hide you glassy eyes. “I don’t know when he’ll be back.” Jacob’s happy with that answer and opens the fridge.

“We gonna take the bus to school?” he wants to know, glancing at you.

“You’ll go alone today,” you tell him, handing him his lunch box. “I have an important appointment.”

“If you say so,” he shrugs, grabbing his backpack and leaves before you can properly say goodbye. As soon as you’re sure he left you grab your phone again and dial Johnny’s phone number.

As expected he also doesn’t know where your dad was but promises to to keep an eye out for him. Fucking hell, why did he just leave? Did someone shit in his brain or what? He’s never pulled something like that before…

-

Simon returns almost four months later. He didn’t know why he left. He didn’t know anything but one thing he did know was that he probably lost his children for good now…

His hands almost shake when he opens the door and he’s prepared for screaming and crying and breakdowns but when you see him your eyes widen and the mug in your hand falls to the ground.

“Dad,” you whisper and before he can even process everything you’re crashing into his arms, crying your eyes out.

“I’m sorry Nugget, I’m so sorry,” he mumbles into your hair, holding you close and never wanting to let you go again.

And you’re so close to forgiving him already; almost forgetting how you needed to quit school and take a job in the sketchy diner down the road. Almost forgetting how you cried yourself to sleep every night, trying to hide the disappearance of your dad from Joseph.

Simon feels how his hands start to shake and his eyes start to burn while he’s holding you; you’re crying in his arms and he’s so close to breaking down but then Joseph walks in.

“What do you want here?” His voice is cold, his gaze hard. He doesn’t flinch when your dad let’s go of you and straightens his back to his full height.

Your dad says nothing, only looks at his son, waiting for him to continue talking. “You left,” Joseph grits out, purposefully walking towards Simon. “You left and you didn’t even have the balls to tell us why!”

He was now screaming, his face red and his voice shaking. “How dare you come back now! How dare you!”

“Josy-“ you try to calm him down but he slaps your hand away, smacking his finger into his father’s chest.

“You think it’s okay to just leave? Nugget quit school to keep us above water while you were gone!” Joseph was now throwing pathetic punches at Simon’s chest, tears brimming him his eyes. “We needed you and you just decided to be a weak fuck and quit!”

Tears were running down your little brothers cheeks as he was hitting your dad chest and you wanted to pull him into your arms arms and comfort him but you yourself were shaking, your vision blurry from already shed tears.

“I’m sorry Josy,” Simon whispered, ignoring the punches his son was throwing at him, only pulling him into his arms and holding him close. “I don’t-“ his voice breaks. “I don’t know why I left. I’m sorry…”

Joseph shakes and cries and your heart breaks again. Carefully you walk towards them both, placing your arms around your brother. “We’ll be fine Josy,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his head. “We’ll be fine…”

When you were alone with your dad, once Joseph went to sleep you place a cup of tea in front of him and sit down opposite of him.

“You’ve got a lot to fix,” you tell him, your expression neutral, besides your shaking hands beneath the table. “You just…disappeared and that left its scars. Don’t think that they’ll be healed just because you came home again.”

He listens to you, nodding along and staring at his tea. “I know. And i’m keen on fixing it.” He looks up and you see his red eyes. “I’m sorry I led Nugget. I’ll make it up, okay? I’ll do my best.”

“I know,” you try to believe him but in the back of your head you’re reminded of all the times he didn’t keep his promises…

pt.2 lol?

[mayaree-darling]

Kissing Bleeding Mouths// Blade

Pairing: Blade x StellaronHunter!Reader Synopsis: He’d call you his associate, but you’re way past the formalities. That’s not the right word for the both of you, anyway, he doesn’t want that to be you and him. You really don’t know what you do to him, do you? Warnings: OOC Blade because I know almost nothing about him and his lore except that I want him to come home (he’s gonna come home I know it it’s a canon event); Can’t do full spicy because I don’t do that stuff so I did a “different” kinda spicy. Not exactly fluffy (I’d say borderline obsessive, if anything, this relationship is toxic y’all) Fic Length:  2.1k~ (Unedited (because I’m tired)) From Aree: Hey, everyone, it’s been a while! Happy to be back. Always wanted to write for gaming fandoms, too, so we’re starting with Honkai Star Rail (I have a Genshin SAGAU fic that’s been in the works for so long now and it’s still a work in progress). I got inspired by a POV playlist I came across on YouTube by greatdain, and this is just a POV under that song that I ended up extending lmao. Anyways, enjoy!

A part of him wishes you knew what you did to him.

Soft smiles and softer laughter only he witnessed in peaceful moments spared during a mission. A joke here and there he thought annoying at first, but found himself thinking about the longer he’s in your absence (he plans on taking it to his grave that he found them all well crafted. Hell would have to freeze over before he let you know it helped him sleep to think of how you made each joke at the spur of the moment). Even gone, you’d still annoy him. So stupid. Stupid and naive you. How did you end up in their group, anyway, so sweet and innocent as you were? How did he end up wrapped around your little finger? A part of him wishes you knew what you did to him. But the logical side of him - the one that only knew the taste of blood and the draw of a sword - it forced him into silence.

Because he didn’t know what you would do with that kind of information.

What would you do had you seen him battle with himself for hours after returning to HQ if he should go and see you? How he all but paced around his room, thinking of a reason to enter yours? And now, here he was, his best effort of holding himself back was trying to walk slower (he wasn’t one for holding himself back in the first place, but the effort is there all the same). But surely you knew, right? Surely you felt his eyes on you as you made your way around a party or sat across him at a meeting, almost desperately trying to catch your eyes and… and what? What was he hoping for? What was he hoping for you to do?

“What do you think you’re doing, Blade?” the question is a whisper, almost a breath you don’t want others to hear, but there was no one to listen but the man himself, and Blade would cut down anything that dared interrupt now.

“Figure it out yourself.” If he had any ounce of honesty and softness in him, he’d admit he wasn’t quite sure himself, but that was just what effect you had on him. Blade remembered looking for you after you left the ballroom to get some air, finding you in a deserted hallway. He doesn’t quite remember how he ended up pinning your wrists to the nearest wall, lips ghosting over the spot where your shoulder meets your neck, waiting. For what specifically, he’s not sure either. You keep making him second-guess himself. He knows he can take you in a fight - your wrists feel so fragile under his fingers - he knows he can take you - you haven’t exactly been trying to fight him off all this time - but still, he hesitates. If he lets himself press his mouth to exposed skin, have a taste of what he’d been denied of for so long in your presence, well, it felt like crossing a line he could never come back from.

“Hmm, if I was going to take a guess, it almost feels like you’re about to eat me.” You’re trying to make light of the situation, as you’ve always done. Yet he does not scoff, or ignore you, or move on from the conversation. Instead, he feels your laughter come to a stop when he sighs into your skin. He agreed, it certainly did feel like he was going to eat you. What would happen if he sunk his teeth into you, nipped at your skin - what else would he break between the two of you besides your flesh?

“What would you do if I did?” He closes his eyes, trying to reel himself in. Maybe he can still control himself. Breathe in, breathe out. He curses silently through gritted teeth. Blade should have known better than to do that. Now he’s enveloped in your scent, the only thing he can feel under his touch is your warmth, it was all you, you, you.

Blades feel you shift in position and instinctively tightens his hold on your wrists. It must’ve hurt - he’s barely aware of how much strength he’s using - but you don’t make a peep. He can’t risk letting you walk out now, even if he still doesn’t know what he’s doing - what happens after you leave him in this hallway? Will he enter HQ tomorrow to find out you’d requested another partner without so much as another word to him? Not that he’d just let things end there - he’d probably make sure you end up his partner again. But he would still prefer to see this conversation through.

He’s pulled back when he feels your breath on his ear. You let out a puff of air - a small laugh - that has him more aware of the situation you’re in. You’re so, so close - and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“It wouldn’t be fun if I just answered that, now, won’t it? So let me ask, since you’re the one in control right now, yeah?” Blade’s not sure if you meant to brush your lips to the shell of his ear, but you’re speaking again before he can think of a proper reaction. “What do you want me to do?”

Why would he know what you’d do? All he’s been able to think about is what he’d do to you. A part of him wants to strangle you until you hated him. What have you done to him? Wants to crush you in an embrace so tight he’d permanently feel you in his arms long after you’re gone. Kiss you until he could drown in your bleeding mouth. What did you do? Why is he like this, all because of you?

And all too soon the answer comes to him clearly.Blade’s hands leave your wrists in an instant, instead coming to grab your face, forcing you to meet his eyes. He doesn’t have to see his own expression to know he looks beyond deranged - he can feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, a smile twitching the corners of his mouth upward into a lopsided grin, eyes blown wide. His thumbs try to gently caress your cheeks, and yet you can both feel him tremble with barely restrained excitement.

“I want you to break,” he ghosts his lips over yours. Where should he bite first? “But I want to be the one to break you.”

 It would be so easy to do, too. You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last. To make you submit to his every beck and call, have you running to do his very bidding, his words more than gospel the moment they reached you. By the end of this little game of sorts, he’d have you kneeling.

And yet, and yet, and yet.

The automatic doors slide open to let him in and Blade locks it behind him without much thought, like it was second nature, as he has already done time and time before.

You sit on the edge of your bed with your back facing him, one leg spread to the floor and your other knee pulled to your chest, phone in hand, softly humming a tune as you scroll through your messages (was it those damned crew members of the train again?) He can’t help but be aware of every little thing you do, every little thing related to you. He knows that song you’re singing.

He’s heard it played on the streets of Belobog the first time you sang along and he hears it again as you lay next to him the first night you spent together. You may have thought him asleep with his eyes closed and even breathing, but that was your mistake. He listened to you sing that song in the dark, so very aware of your proximity, each small breath you took, an intake of air longer than the rest as you hummed, and every time you made the slightest alteration to your position under the sheets, trying not to “wake” him.

To him, to Blade, it felt like he never truly left that moment in time. Each time he lays down for the night, if he can fool himself enough, he can hear you humming. You’re in bed with him, surely. Just an inch away from touching the tips of your fingers or the edge of your face. He’d kill to even graze at your skin, but he’s not dumb enough to try - he knows the moment he does, the illusion would end, the spell would break, and you and your voice with it.

Blade relishes the sound of your singing now, in the flesh, unhindered by his own imagination. He’s so close now. A few steps and you’re in arms reach. He can just hold his hands out and then… and then…

You raise your head the longer he doesn’t say anything, most likely wondering why he hadn’t made his presence known. Normally he’d stand in your line of sight and stare at you until you finally decide to give him your full attention, be it to go over the mission plans or just to provide him entertainment. The Blade in front of you right now, however… He doesn’t know what face he’s making. Is it carefully blank, or do you see the desperation he’s trying so hard to keep in check?

“Blade? What can I do for you?” you maneuver your body so you’re facing him, but you don’t stand and come closer. You don’t try to close the distance in any way. You stay where you are, on the bed, with him by the door.

And that was the problem.

In few quick and agitated strides, he reaches for your wrist.

“That’s something I don’t hear very often, especially when it’s directed at me,” you laugh like there was nothing wrong with your predicament. Like he didn’t just say he’d rather have you broken than hopelessly in love like he really wanted, like he really craved. “However, you don’t expect me to just accept that without a fight, yes?”

“Of course not,” his thumb grazes at your lip, imagining a cut right straight in the middle. Imagining swiping the blood across your face. Imagining the clean-up afterward. “The process is more than half the fun. I look forward to it already. Do you?”

“I suppose, to an extent, but that’s not what I meant,” you smile tenderly, eyes soft, gently caressing his cheeks. Blade can’t help the feeling that you’re treating him like he’s the only one who’s not in on the joke, the one who just can’t seem to get it. “What makes you think you won’t break first?”

“Blade?”

He looks at your wrist in his hand. So easy to break. Just a quick twist of his own wrist and he’d hear it snap under his fingers, have you crying in his arms. Would he try to soften your crying with murmurs of assurance, or would he tell you to scream louder? He doesn’t get to know the answer.

He holds your wrist like a feather, you must have noticed how lenient he’s being. Tight enough to know its unmistakable presence, but not enough to crush. When was the last time he was aware of how fragile something was?

“Blade? What’s wrong?”

He raises his eyes to meet yours. You don’t flinch, or try to move away. You stare at him, watching his face for anything that might give way to what was going on. Instead of letting you find out anything for yourself, he slowly kneels down until he’s eye level with you.

He all but barks out a laugh. He puts pressure on the tips of his fingers, almost trying to crack into your skull. “Do you really think I’d let myself break first? You’re out of your mind, darling.”

His throat burns at the very idea, bile rising up from his stomach, but he either said it now or lived in secret for the rest of your time together. He thought of marking you in other ways, but this would have to suffice for now.

“I yield.”

He watches as your eyes widen ever so slightly before you smile, ever so slightly, eyes ever so soft. You cup his cheek with your free hand and he all but melts into the attention you’re so willingly giving him. When you lean in, he’s already meeting you halfway, but just before your lips touch, you hold him in place with your hand on his face, mouths just barely grazing the other. He finds himself staring at your eyes which seem to gleam something dark.

He feels your hand slowly creep from his cheek to his hair, softly brushing at strands before tugging - once, twice - at the ends. “Oh, I don’t just think so, Blade.”

You smile like you know a secret he doesn’t, a joke he can’t quite get.

“I know.”

✨ Masterlist ✨ 

Taglist: 💛@anime-allover  💛@faeriessky  💛 @prksolon 💛 @dai-tsukki-desu

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.

[doubleddenden]

Okay I was just sharing a tweet I saw with my friends, right. Then I realized the background- one of the possible decorations you can set for the Blueberry Academy League Club Room, the Dark theme- could potentially be a hint towards ZA. So basically I saw a gold mine in a meme, so thanks for accidentally inspiring me :)

1. The "hag" meta is definitely in for vtubers, so that tracks for Iono lol, but 2 moving away from that, 2. Follow me into this rabbit hole and look here, friends

Besides Larry being beautiful and questioning his life, a lot of us saw the portrait and thought it could resemble Caitlin of the Unova Elite 4 and formerly princess of the Sinnoh/Johto Battle Castle- fitting since Blueberry Academy is off the coast of Unova in the case of Unova Elite 4. Some of you probably think this is old news- be patient, I'm going somewhere with this.

The resemblance is there, especially in the hair in gen 4, but the eyes are different and she's holding a Banette or Banette doll, a ghost type. It was dismissed by many to just be a creepy little girl.

Except, I think it might be a hint or teaser. And before anyone dismisses this. Take a look at these screenshots (from Nintendo Life via google)

A lot of people immediately turn to the painting of Uluru- aka the rock monolith found in Australia, and many tend to focus on that for Gen 10 hints- myself included, of course, I've wanted Pokemon Australia since I was 10. However, what if I told you that if a Z-A hint were a snake...

...It would have bitten you. That's Lumiose Tower in that one sketch, a cleverly hidden tree in a forest of brighter colored trees. There's other stuff there I wanna look at, but unfortunately the angle is purposely bad in Hassel's art room, so you can't focus on it.

So if we go back to the creepy girl in the portrait, knowing that Game Freak already planted a Z-A hint that tiny on that wall, we could possibly go a little nuts and say that maybe she's a character we meet in Z-A.

If that weren't enough- Banette has a Mega Evolution, introduced in XY. So yeah.

Anyway here's what I think: Caitlin has an ancestor that used to be royalty in Kalos, or more fittingly, part of the Lumiose Aristocracy in Z-A's fan proposed time frame of 1850s Rennovation of Paris, or so. Caitlin has psychic powers, fitting for a Psychic type user- but Ghost type trainers also have been known to exhibit supernatural abilities similar to Pokemon Psychics as well, and Caitlin is so powerful that she either had her butler run the Battle Castle for her or sleeps most of the time as an Elite 4 member to keep her powers in check. Perhaps her powers are passed down and a result of a family line of involvement with supernatural Pokemon.

The girl in the photo is either the first or just another of the family that has some kind of innate power or connection to Pokemon in this manner- in this case, ghost types.

Lumiose in XY is actually not that far from the haunted swamp and supposedly haunted house/tourist trap, so perhaps Caitlin's ancestors are losing power in the aristocracy at the time period but still retain some sway, and most importantly could be the proprieter of ghost Pokemon we'll need for the dex AND an "alpha" equivalent ghost type Pokemon.

Picture this: there's a haunted mansion to the north of Lumiose. There's some old documentation inside that will help with your goal of rebuilding Lumiose- but it's haunted. Like HAUNTED haunted. It's layout kinda large but manageable, like Luigi's Mansion in a way. Caitlin's ancestor- maybe of some partial relation to Shauntal as well- helps guide you through this mansion that's infested with ghost type Pokemon.

That's an idea anyway, which admittedly could be a stretch from just a couple of screenshots- but do keep in mind that Gamefreak hid Gmax Toxtricity in their Alolan office in Ultra Sun and Moon on a poster at a bad angle. Not to mention they probably had DeNA use Masters to tease at Volo with Cynthia's Giratina Sygna Suit. Plus the Kitakami Easter egg at Larry's own gym before SV DLC was even announced, or using the English word for Blueberry- a North American berry, instead of the Spanish words for Grape and Orange- to signify Blueberry Academy being off the coast of Unova/America.

Sometimes their hints are right in your face, sometimes cleverly hidden, sometimes it doesn't even register until it hits- so imo, I think I might be onto something here. At the very least, a haunted house in Pokemon is LONG overdue at this point- we haven't had a new one since Alola in gen 7, although that was a destroyed grocery store- the others we've had are repeats of Lavender Tower or Lost Tower and Old Chateau.

... WHICH, BTW, A chataeu... is French :) the Old Chateau- haunted by ghosts, in Sinnoh, where Caitlin was first introduced. Come to think of it, in Hisui, there isn't even a NEW Chateau yet.

So now I think it's a possibility that Caitlin's ancestors were the ones that built the Old Chateau, and possibly used blueprints from one in old Lumiose to build it in the freshly colonized lands of Sinnoh. Blueprints WE help find.

Or, as a lot of people who made it this far are probably SCREAMING at me right now- all of this is nothing and the little girl is just a generic little girl made to be creepy on purpose.

But we like to have fun here in DD's theory corner. And it'll be so hilarious if I got some of this right in the slightest.

[nightingale-ghost-writer]

Maybe [Soap x Fem!OC]

Summary: Soap finds a kindred spirit during a trying time

Author’s Notes: This is a little of a long intro, feel free to skip it! I’ve been reading fanfiction for years, and I’ve started dozens of fics. This is the first one I’ve ever finished. (11.8K words!!!) It started off with me wanting Soap to get some medical care for his unaddressed injuries after Alone, and just exploded from there. I wanted to really highlight the bond he and Ghost formed, and then I wanted to give him love (because he deserves it!). I know it’s a bit sparse on the Price and Gaz side of things, but I feel like their bonds with Soap are sort of assumed going into this game. This game, to me, is about Soap learning that sometimes the right thing to do isn’t always so obvious, and Ghost learning to work with a team, thanks to Soap. I loved this campaign dearly, so I have a lot of dialogue carried over from scenes I really wanted to set. That being said, I changed some stuff to better incorporate my OC, Daniela. Writing reader-insert fics is a skill I just do not possess. If you’re reading, I hope you enjoy it!

And to my dear @uselsshuman, who is the furthest thing from useless, thank you so much for your encouragement to write this. Your writing and support really inspired me to get this done. This one’s for you. ❤

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or events from Modern Warfare

Warnings: language, canon-typical violence, suggestive content

Soap tucked himself behind a door, braced his back against the wall, and did his level best to breathe as silently as possible. He could hear the Shadows’ footsteps and radio chatter nearby.

He pulled back the hammer on the desert eagle he’d found in the café safe and held his breath. He didn’t want to get into a gunfight, not here. Not with them. He had decent cover, but his arm throbbed where a bullet was lodged, his ribs stung where his plates had kept him from another, his whole body ached from his jumps and falls in the city, and he was almost certain he’d damaged something in his left hip the day before. 

That particular injury came from running along cliff faces to escape the cartel, which was bad enough. Adding the Shadows to that? That was terrible.

As the footsteps faded, Soap let out a slow, low breath and slumped to the ground. He let his eyes drift shut, just for a moment, taking stock of his ability to get across the plaza to the church. To Ghost. As if he knew that he was being thought about, Ghost’s voice crackled through the comms.

“Soap?“ he asked softly.

“Ghost,” whispered Soap.

“You alright?”

Soap opened his eyes and took a deep breath, peeked around the door, and answered “Think I found a way through, LT.”

“Shadows are everywhere. I’ll hold ‘em off until we RV in front of the church and secure a vehicle for exfil.”

“Roger that.” Soap crept up through the shop, taking care to stay low and move quietly.

“Give ‘em hell, Johnny. We’re almost there,” rumbled Ghost. After a moment’s pause, he added “Listen, I picked up an ally. Should help us get out of here a little easier. You’ve just got to us and we’ll get to a vehicle.”

Soap’s eyes narrowed. Ally? In Mexico? Only two people came to mind, and they were both “detained”.

“Is it Price?” he asked after a moment’s thought.

“No, one of Alejandro's Vaqueros. Wasn’t on base when Graves moved in. Showed up, realized something was wrong. We found each other killing Shadows, decided to team up.”

Soap chanced raising his head to peer out of the shop window. Seeing no Shadows, he moved for the door. “And you trust ‘im?”

“Enough, at least for now.”

“Copy that, LT. I’m on my way.”

He wiggled the door handle, but of course, nothing could be so easy. It was locked. So he pulled out the last of his makeshift pry tools, braced it in the door jamb, and pulled.

Lots of things happened all at once, then.

The door swung open. Soap yelled “Fuck!” while the Shadow said “what the- GET DOWN!”, and hit Soap with the butt of his rifle. The Shadow called his position, Soap heard “kill him!”, and then the Shadow dropped to the ground. Soap scrambled back, pressing the heel of his hand into his eye and groaning. His vision swam and his ears rang and he couldn’t get his bearings. Two more Shadows, running for the building, dropped to the sharp report of silenced sniper fire.

“Holy hell. Ghost, was that you?” Soap asked.

“Who else?” snapped Ghost’s rough voice. “Now go!”

He scrambled to his feet. And ran.

He ran as fast as his bruised body would let him, ducking behind cars and spraying with an SMG he’d picked up. He heard gunfire coming from ahead of him and cursed, grabbing for his radio.

“Ghost, how copy?”

“Johnny, got company in the church and they are not here for forgiveness. Get to the steps, we’ll be there!”

In the last few meters, Soap saw Ghost come careening out of the church doors, followed closely by a much smaller figure dressed all in black. They both turned to shoot at their followers as Soap and Ghost called out to each other. Ghost vaulted over the wrought iron fence, followed by their ally, and the three ran back the way Soap had come.

“We need a vehicle. On me!” Ghost barked. “Stay sharp. They know we’re here and they know it’s us. They’ll send more.”

Minutes that felt like hours later, after a brief firefight, the three piled into a pickup, panting and on high alert. 

“Alright, Johnny! You made it.”

“We made it, LT.” 

After ramming two Shadows with their stolen pickup, and nearly losing Ghost to another, they peeled off down an alley. Soap sagged against the seat, closing his eyes again. His heart and head were pounding.

“How’s that arm, Johnny?” asked Ghost.

Soap raised his head. “I’ll live,” he answered. He shivered violently, once, and Ghost cast a concerned glance in his direction.

“You sure it’s not infected?”

“Of course I’m not sure,” snapped Soap. Softening his voice, he added “But I think it’s just the cold. Between the tunnels and the rain, LT? Feels like I’m back home.”

Ghost nodded slowly. For a long moment, the two just basked in each others’ presence, grateful to have made it back together. Then, Ghost said “Daniela, would you take a look at the Sergeant’s arm? Can’t have him dying on us.”

Soap’s head snapped around to lock eyes with the ally he’d forgotten. Later, he’d remember this moment as an indication of his quickly deteriorating state. In the moment, though, he couldn’t wrap his head around anything but the woman in front of him.

Sometime between their getting into the truck and down the street, the black balaclava and hood had come off. The woman staring back at him had light olive skin and a mass of shiny black curls plastered to her head by rain. A thin, jagged, silvery scar ran from her cheekbone to her jaw, and her full lips were pursed in a barely-there smile. Soap thought he saw scarred flesh at the collar of her jacket. But he couldn’t tear his eyes away from hers. They were the bluest blue he’d ever seen- dark like the ocean, clear like the sky on a cloudless night, and as sharp as glass. Familiar, somehow.

He hadn’t necessarily had expectations of how this ally would look, but this was as far from expectation as possible. He had pictured a man, but even the fact that she was a woman wasn’t most shocking of all. It was her beauty.

He flinched when her hand landed lightly on his right shoulder, pulling gently.

“No, we can’t,” she said. Her voice was soft, musical, lightly accented. The lilt of just those three words had Soap’s head spinning for, at least he thought, completely different reasons than it had been spinning earlier. He adjusted his body so that rather than leaning with his left arm over the seat, his right arm hung over. The woman looked straight to the wound, gently prodding the flesh around the bullet wound, and Soap bit his tongue to keep from hissing in pain.

“Does that hurt?” she asked.

Soap tried to be nonchalant. He shrugged and said “Not so much.”

Ghost snorted. Soap didn’t blame him. The words sounded strained even to his own ears. And based on the older man’s jokes about not watching the cartel’s videos of his death “more than once”, this seemed like just the kind of thing he might find amusing. The thought made Soap smirk. The woman rolled her eyes, setting them on his again.

“What’s your name, hen?”

“I am Daniela. You are Soap, yes?” Soap nodded. Daniela nodded as well, focusing back on his arm. “Your Ghost, he told you that I am with Los Vaqueros?”

Soap and Ghost exchanged a look at “your Ghost”. Now Soap really was smirking, and he imagined that Ghost was grimacing under his mask.

“Aye, that he did,” he replied. He watched as Daniela unzipped her tactical vest and tore a strip of fabric from the bottom of her shirt. She began winding it around his bicep, grimacing slightly at the wheeze of pain he couldn’t hold back.

“Well we have a safehouse. We’ll get there, stock up, get you patched up a little better, and come up with a plan.” After carefully tying a knot in the makeshift bandage, she raised her eyes to Soap’s again. “It’s the best I can do right now.”

“I appreciate it,” he replied. He held her gaze for a moment before turning to face Ghost. “Alright, Ghost?”

Ghost glanced at him again. Even behind the mask, Soap could see his expression soften. “Alright, Johnny. You did well back there.” Soap grinned, and could tell by the crinkling around his eyes that Ghost was grinning, too.

“All thanks to you, LT.”

The rest of the ride was filled with soft chatter about Alejandro, Los Vaqueros, Graves, and the safehouse… and Soap trying, and failing, not to feel Daniela’s burning stare on the back of his neck.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Soap thought he was done for when Ghost shouted for him not to move. His feet had just touched the safehouse floor and Ghost was perched in the window. Before Soap even had time to react, a throwing knife flew past his head, embedding itself in the column just a meter away. Then he recognized Rodolfo’s voice. 

“Quién está ahí?”

“Rodolfo!”

Rodolfo rounded the corner. “Soap, Ghost! You’re alive!” Soap could see the moment Daniela mounted the window. Rodolfo’s face crumbled, his whole body seeming to sag with relief. “Daniela!”

“Rodolfo!” She leapt from the windowsill, surging forward to wrap her arms around Rodolfo’s waist. His own arms came around her shoulders and the two rocked back and forth, holding each other, speaking in rapid-fire Spanish that Soap had no hope of understanding. Rodolfo kissed the side of Daniela’s head, holding her to him tightly. Soap looked away. His eyes met Ghost’s and the two shared a slight shrug.

While Rodolfo and Daniela chattered away, Ghost stepped toward Soap.

“Daniela should be able to fix up that arm,” he said. “She’s not a formally trained medic, but she has lots of field training and experience. She told me she’s been patching up Los Vaqueros for years.”

“Aye. How’d you say you found her? Fighting Shadows?”

Ghost looked her way, nodding. “Just a few minutes before I got you on comms, I heard a scuffle. Thought it might be you, so I went in to assist. Lo and behold, I find that one slicing up a Shadow. ‘Nother pair showed up, though, and one got her in a choke-hold. Would’ve carried her off to who knows where if I hadn’t shown up.”

Soap nodded slowly. He didn’t need any more explanation. He knew the implications of what Ghost was saying and it made his blood boil.

Ghost shrugged. “She trusted me enough since I’d just saved her life, and I trusted her enough since she was fighting them and didn’t raise her gun at me. Plus, I think she’s as dedicated to the cause as Alejandro and Rodolfo.”

“Why’s that?” asked Soap. But before Ghost could answer, Rodolfo cut in.

“Where were you guys?”

“On the run,” answered Ghost.

“I was on the run,” corrected Soap. “Ghost waited for me.”

Rodolfo nodded. “Of course, no?”

Dread sank in Soap’s stomach. “No-” he began. But Ghost cut him off.

“Yes,” he said firmly, locking eyes with Soap again. “We’re a team. All of us.”

That stunned Soap into silence. He’d known they’d bonded trying to escape Las Almas with their lives, but for all of his teasing about Ghost taking a shine to him, he hadn’t actually believed that Ghost would say the same thing.

He was touched.

Maybe even more touched by the fact that the legendary lone-wolf Ghost considered him part of his team. It was likely the highest compliment he would ever get from him.

So while Rodolfo and Ghost started in on their plan to get into the prison, Soap settled down against the safehouse wall with an MRE from Alejandro’s supplies. The adrenaline shot he’d managed to get his hands on in Las Almas was waning, and he could feel every sore muscle, the bullet in his arm, and his likely sprained hip sharply. He tried to tune in to the conversation, but his attention was immediately lost when Daniela approached him with a med kit.

She grinned a bit wryly at him. “Mind if I take a better look at that arm?” Soap nodded and braced himself to stand, but Daniela jumped forward, holding out a hand. “No, don’t get up,” she said. Soap settled back to the ground as she crouched by him, reaching for her makeshift bandage from earlier.

Soap studied her as she worked. Her hair had dried and now sat at least a few centimeters higher on her head, tight ringlets falling to her shoulders. Her eyebrows furrowed just a bit as she carefully removed the bloodied fabric. Her movements were calculated, washing the wound and looking at it closely.

“How did you join Los Vaqueros?” Soap asked. For a moment, Daniela didn’t acknowledge him. Then she raised her gaze to his.

Instead of answering his question, she said “I need to get the bullet out. It’s going to hurt. Think you can handle it?”

Soap nodded once, sharply. Her gaze softened. “I don’t have any painkillers. This isn’t going to be some… little pain. It’s going to hurt a lot.”

Soap cocked a wry grin back at her. “Just so long as my screaming doesn’t bother you,” he teased. A wicked spark lit in her eyes at that.

“It won’t bother me. Maybe I’d like to hear you scream.”

Soap’s jaw dropped. It was exactly the type of thing he’d say, but having it said to him was dumbfounding. Who was this woman?

Her smile only grew as she watched him try to compose himself. He was grateful when her gaze dropped back to the task at hand, sterilizing a pair of forceps. He was sure his face was flaming red.

“Los Vaqueros saved my life when I was sixteen,” she said softly. “My village leader refused the cartel’s demands, so El Sin Nombre set to burning the village down. I was one of three survivors.” That explained Ghost’s certainty of her dedication.

She moved to his right side, between his leg and outstretched arm, and gripped his bicep below the bullet wound.

“My whole family died that day.”

She set the forceps at the wound’s entry. Soap took a deep breath.

“I have burns all over my body from our house burning down.” That explained the scarring at her neck.

Soap lurched forward, gasping, when she dug the forceps in. The pain was so blinding that he nearly missed Daniela cursing softly in Spanish before sitting on his right leg, leaning her body against his to keep him from moving. Nearly missed. But didn’t. 

“Lo ciento,” she whispered, sparing him a concerned glance. He grit his teeth and leaned his head back against the wall, chest heaving as he took deep breaths through his nose. 

“I’m sorry,” he gritted out. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you.”

Daniela shrugged. “Alejandro pulled me out of that fire,” she continued. Her tone was light, but seemed forced. Soap wasn’t sure whether it was her attempt to calm him or to pretend her story didn’t bother her.

He felt the moment that the forceps grasped the bullet. Took a deep breath. Steeled himself. Nothing prepared him for the feeling. He’d been shot before, multiple times. Bullet removal wasn’t a walk in the park, but he hadn’t realized just how much the painkillers mattered.

Soap was not proud of the whimper he let out when Daniela yanked the bullet out in one clean motion. She dropped the forceps onto a medical tray and lightly patted his cheek before inspecting the wound closely, muttering about infection and pointedly not meeting his gaze. She poured antiseptic over the wound and reached for a bottle of pills. 

“Here, take these. Antibiotics,” she said. After watching Soap swallow the pills, she picked a needle and thread up out of the med kit and continued. “Rodolfo threw a wet blanket over me. They put ointment on my burns and fed me. They offered me a home. They taught me to fight. They’ve been my family ever since.” 

Soap felt a pang of kinship at her words. He flinched slightly when the needle pierced his skin, but the pain died to a dull burn as Daniela kept stitching.

“Now that, I do understand,” he said. 

“You have no family?”

“No. Just the 141.”

After a few more strokes, she tied off the thread and laid a hand on his chest.

“They are my brothers. We must get Alejandro back.”

Soap reached up to cover her hand, belatedly hoping she wouldn’t be able to feel his heart pounding when she met his gaze. “We will, hermana.”

The smile she gave him was small, but her eyes were warm. It lasted for a brief moment before she arched an eyebrow. 

“Hermana?” She leaned forward until her mouth brushed Soap’s ear and he was sure that she could feel his heartbeat stutter. “I certainly hope not.”

With that, she picked up her medical kit and sauntered away, leaving Soap to stare after her in shock.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Getting into the prison compound was easy enough. 

“Trash bin on your right, time to take out the trash.”

“Shut up, Soap, fucking hell.”

A giggle from Daniela.

“Shoot him.”

“No, got something else in mind.”

“Fucking beautiful, sir!”

Impressed mumbling from Rodolfo.

“Cut and paste him, Ghost.”

Soap and Ghost’s banter amused Daniela to no end, even though Soap was sure he’d never been so anxious in his life. Having Ghost’s life almost solely in his hands was a responsibility he never wanted to feel again. But working with Rodolfo again helped to ease his mind.

Nearly being killed by Alejandro was less than ideal, but made worth it to watch him reunite with Rodolfo and Daniela.

“Alejandro! Al- it’s me, hermano!”

“Coronel, relájese somos nosotros!”

“Soap, Rudy, Ghost! Daniela!”

“Didn’t think we’d leave you, did ya?”

“What took you so long, pendejos?”

Getting out wasn’t quite as easy. 

“Exfil vehicles are set. Ghost planted charges to help us get out.”

“With Johnny’s help.”

“Eh, I can’t call Soap ‘Johnny’.”

“Don’t. Only Ghost can pull that off.”

“Aww, really? Only your Ghost? What about me?”

“Yes, Johnny, what about Daniela?”

“Can it, LT.”

But between Los Vaqueros and the 141, they made it. Soap couldn’t put into words how much relief he felt upon seeing Gaz and hearing the old man’s voice. After being hoisted to the top, he and Daniela ended up shoulder to shoulder, her covering him while he detonated the Shadows vehicles.

“Have you been with the 141 long?” she shouted over the sounds of gunfire.

“The 141 hasn’t been around all that long,” he shouted back. “But yeah, I’ve been with ‘em since the start.” He raised his rifle, picking off three snipers with three shots.

Daniela raised an impressed eyebrow. “I can see why!”

Soap grinned wide, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye as he raised the detonator. “Would you be impressed if I told you I rigged the explosives for these things, too?”

Daniela returned his grin full force. “I would be.”

Soap’s grin only widened before he pressed the button, eyes locked with Daniela’s. He lowered his voice and said “Ka-freaking-boom, baby.” She’d giggled when he said it earlier, and as the APC exploded, she let out another delighted squeal.

“Handsome and clever? This is a good combination, Johnny,” she said. Soap was grateful that shooting was such second nature to him because in that moment, all coherent thoughts ceased to exist. When he managed to look back to Daniela, she was smiling slyly. She picked off a sniper from across the yard and Soap shook his head. Witty, intelligent, beautiful, and a good shot. 

When the door to their right crashed open, Soap threw himself in front of Daniela to cover her as they each shot one of the men inside. Ghost barked at Soap about weapons, and he came back to the wall with a grenade launcher. He released several grenades before the last of Alejandro’s men mounted the wall top, and then made sure that Daniela went down the other side before him.

When he stumbled getting to their transport out, he chalked it up to battle fatigue, which he told both Ghost and Daniela when they asked whether he was okay. Neither looked convinced, but neither questioned him. They did sit on either side of him for the ride back to the safehouse, though.

Daniela leaned close to him. “How do you feel?” she asked.

“Never better,” he lied. His whole body throbbed in varying levels of discomfort and pain. At least his head had stopped throbbing. Daniela leveled her gaze at him, and he returned a wide grin. She rolled her eyes and dropped it. Instead, she said “Thank you for covering me. You didn’t have to do that.”

Soap’s grin softened. “I know,” he said.

Back at the safe house, lively music played softly in the garage as Los Vaqueros cleaned weapons, loaded vehicles, and fed themselves. Soap felt slightly out of place, like he and the rest of the 141 were walking into someone’s home. Everyone either had something to say or shook hands with Daniela and Rodolfo as they passed, and they both smiled warmly at their friends.

Soap and Ghost made their way to an unoccupied pair of cots in the corner, observing their newfound comrades. Price had disappeared with Alejandro to formulate a plan, ordering the two to sleep. But exhausted as he was, Soap wasn’t sure he’d be able to.

He couldn’t get comfortable. No matter which way he turned, something ached or stung. He tried relaxing his muscles. He tried breathing deeply. He tried counting sheep. 

Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the fire and the blood from the streets of Las Almas. He could hear the screaming and the pleading and the gunfire. He tried covering his eyes, and his ears. Eventually, he rolled to his side, facing Ghost. He was startled to meet the Lieutenant’s eyes. 

“Simon?” Soap asked softly. 

“Johnny,” said Ghost, equally as softly. 

Soap chewed his lip. “Do you ever forget?”

Ghost held his stare, unflinching. “No. You don’t.” Soap hadn’t realized before, but Ghost’s eyes were bloodshot. He looked tired. He’d learned quickly that he slept infrequently, and for short periods of time. It made a lot more sense, now. Ghost rolled over, huffing out a soft breath. “But eventually, you’ll learn to sleep anyway.”

Soap stared at his back, wondering if he would. Wondering if Ghost ever had. He didn’t know how long he stared at his teammate, but it felt like hours later that someone sat gently on the end of his cot. He flew up, grabbing for the bowie knife he kept in his tactical vest. 

Daniela raised her hands, offering a tired smile. “Mind if I take a look at that arm?”

“Sure.” Soap swung his legs off of the cot, resting his hands on the edge. Daniela turned toward him, reaching out and carefully pulling off the dressing she’d applied that early morning. 

“How does it feel? Any sharp pains or itching? Any dizziness, fever?” As soon as she said fever, Soap realized he’d been sweating more than usual. He’d absolutely been feeling dizzy since that harrowing night on the run, but it seemed to have died down throughout the day. And now that he actually paid attention long enough, it was quite itchy.

“No,” he lied. Once again, those ocean eyes seemed to pierce his very soul, challenging him. She knew. But she didn’t say anything, simply reached into the med kit for the same bottle of antibiotics and handed him two. Soap took them gratefully. The team couldn’t afford to be without him, and Ghost would surely order him to stay back if he thought the Sergeant was at all compromised.

Again, she washed the wound with antiseptic, then applied a fresh coat of salve before covering it with a fresh bandage.

“Why are you awake, anyway?” she asked suddenly. Soap’s head snapped up, eyes flying to hers. She looked nearly as exhausted as Ghost, all bloodshot eyes and frazzled hair and sagging shoulders. Still gorgeous.

Soap shrugged uncomfortably. “Couldn’t sleep. What about you?”

She shrugged back, offering a small smile. “Couldn’t sleep either. It makes sense, though. You’ve been through a lot the last few days.” The last few days? When Soap cocked an eyebrow at her, she fidgeted a bit. “I, uh… I was there in the cartel house. When Valeria interrogated you.”

Several things clicked into place for Soap very suddenly. Alejandro had taken him to the elevator once he got into the cartel house, and another guard had escorted him out and down to the basement. Small, with ocean-blue eyes. Then at the oil rig, Alejandro had sent one man with Soap and Graves to the ship. Dani.

“You’re strong for your size,” said Soap in awe. Daniela had shoved him repeatedly through the hallway, even tapping the side of his face with the butt of her gun when he had begun to look over his shoulder.

She smiled wryly. “Sorry about that. We had to make it real, and we couldn’t risk any more comms than we had.”

“No, no, it’s okay. You did good,” said Soap. “Why can’t you sleep?”

Daniela shifted again. “I don’t do so well the night before big missions. I usually bunk next to Alelandro or Rodolfo, but they’re both… occupied. So, I came over here instead. To you.”

Soap’s heart melted. He was so drawn to this woman, and to know that she felt even a fraction of that bond made his heart swell with gratitude. “You can bunk with us,” he said quickly. Then, glancing around, he realized that there didn’t seem to be any available cots. “Take my cot. I can sleep in a chair.”

Daniela’s face had washed with relief when he spoke, but some tension returned as she looked down at her hands. “Don’t be silly,” she mumbled. “I’m not putting you out of your cot after the week you’ve had.”

“Well then, you’ll just have to share it with me,” teased Soap. He held his breath when Daniela’s head snapped up. He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to say anything so bold, but he’d taken it and run with it. “There’s plenty of space for both of us.”

“If I sleep on top of you, maybe,” snorted Daniela. Soap wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Daniela giggled.

Soap softened his voice, speaking more seriously. “I really don’t mind sharing.”

She contemplated for a moment, sighed, and then rolled her eyes. “Fine. Just don’t complain if I crush you.”

Now it was Soap’s turn to snort. He lay down carefully, his back to Ghost’s cot, and raised his right arm. Daniela lay down beside him, turning onto her side and tucking herself under his chin. A perfect fit. Soap gently let his arm come down over her waist, laying his hand on the cot rail.

“This okay?” he whispered. She nodded. Soap nodded, too. His heart was pounding. He hadn’t been close to someone like this in… well, a long time.

The 141 was his whole life. There was always work to be done, and without a family to go home to, there was no real reason to take leave. On the rare occasion he did, he just ended up in his home town in Scotland. He’d flirt, constantly, but he seldom brought anyone home. He longed for something deeper, and sex alone could never fill that void. Plus, no one wanted to commit to someone who could be gone for months at a time.

But this? To be close to someone? This was filling the void just fine. Soap had to fight the urge to pull her further back against him as her breathing evened out, her body naturally leaning more on his own. As he dozed, he was proud of himself for staying still. He drifted in and out of sleep, dreaming empty dreams and feeling her shift against him.

As he finally woke up the next morning, he felt his hip aching fiercely. He started to shift to take some pressure off of it, and froze. Slowly opening his eyes, he saw Daniela’s wild hair. He groggily remembered that they’d shared a cot the night before. All of his pride at his self-control dissolved instantly when he realized that his arm was around her waist, holding her tightly to his chest. She must have turned over in her sleep, because her leg was thrown over his hip, pulling their bodies flush together. 

He could already feel a problem, and this was not the time or place. He had to get out of this cot without waking her up. He shifted back, then froze as Daniela’s hand ran up to the back of his head to tangle her fingers in his mohawk. Her eyelids fluttered, her fingers pulled lightly at his hair, and her leg tightened around his hips. Soap’s eyes fluttered shut as he swallowed a groan. Fuck. When he opened his eyes again, she was smiling at him sleepily.

“That’s the best sleep I’ve gotten in months,” she whispered. Soap nodded, desperately trying to get his body under control before she woke up any more. To his dismay, she nuzzled closer to him, nose rubbing under his jaw and hips shifting back and forth for a moment. Her eyes snapped open, eyebrows arching. “Feels like you slept pretty well, too, eh big boy?” Hells bells, this woman. Soap barely suppressed a full body shudder as she beamed at him.

“I didn’t, I’m not, I-” he stuttered. But Daniela placed her fingers over his lips, silencing him. Her eyes were full of mirth.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” she teased. Then she languidly stretched, pressing against him as much as humanly possible before climbing out of the cot and sashaying away, tossing a wicked grin over her shoulder at him. Soap turned to Ghost’s cot, which was blessedly empty, and then pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, still fighting for his body to cooperate. Hells fucking bells.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When Alejandro called his men, all sound stopped. The place became a real base in that moment. Los Vaqueros and the 141 gathered around a makeshift operations table, listening intently as Price spoke.

“This is a fight against our own. We are not 141 and Los Vaqueros on this. We’re a team. Ghost team.”

Soap’s eyebrows shot up when the Captain dumped out a bucket of masks, then his eyes snapped up to Ghost. Ghost was staring at him, and Soap was almost certain he was steeling himself. Their silent conversation lasted only a moment before Ghost reached up, pulling off his mask, pausing before reaching for one from the table. Price reached a hand up to his shoulder.

“Good to see you again, Simon,” he said.

Soap carefully schooled his features in an attempt to soothe Ghost’s nerves, but he felt a distinct surge of pride in being one of the few to be allowed to know the Lieutenant. As the older man adjusted the mask over his face, the two shared another weighted look. Soap quirked up one corner of his mouth, shaking his head. Quite the opposite, indeed.

Alejandro laid out the plan to get into the Los Vaqueros facility. “We’ll infiltrate the base with two Ghost teams. Team one is Captain Price, Gaz, me, and one pilot. Team two is Ghost, Soap, Rudy, Dani, and Los Vaqueros.”

Ghost and Soap looked to each other and nodded. Then Soap turned to Daniela, raising an eyebrow. He mouthed “Dani?” 

She smirked, mouthing back “Johnny?”

Soap grinned. He looked to Ghost, who was shaking his head. But his eyes were crinkled with mirth.

“While Gaz and me locate and secure Valeria, Ghost team 2 will find Graves… and kill him.”

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ghost team 2 fought their way through the base to the HQ building, then fought their way through that. Soap and Ghost moved together like they’d fought together for years, and Daniela and Rodolfo effortlessly slotted themselves into their dynamic. Between the three of them, no Shadows made it more than a few steps into the open.

Watching Price’s helo go down had Soap’s stomach sinking. “Steamin’ hell!” Soap shouted. He and Ghost shared a heavy look while Daniela and Rodolfo cursed softly. Rodolfo quickly recovered, clambering up the wall with Soap’s help. Daniela followed after, lightly stepping into Soap’s linked hands before joining Rodolfo in straddling the wall. The two of them pulled Soap up quickly, who turned to Ghost.

“Ghost, you comin’?” he asked.

“No. Price and the pilot need help. You three finish this.”

Soap’s head whipped back and forth between Ghost and the other side of the wall until he saw something that made his stomach drop even more. “Look!” he shouted.

“That’s not ours!” shouted Rodolfo.

“Holy shite. Graves brought a fuckin’ tank!” growled Soap, dropping to the ground. He glanced at Rodolfo and Daniela. “You ready for this?”

“Hell yeah!” answered Rodolfo. Daniela nodded curtly. Soap motioned for the three to split up.

“Looks like the hunters are getting hunted now, huh?” came Graves’ sneering voice. “Ain’t that a kick in the ass?”

“Can’t wait to bake this bastard,” grumbled Soap. He, Daniela, and Rodolfo had run into different buildings. Rodolfo tried to call out C4 stashes, Daniela threw grenades as she could, and Soap gestured for both of them to stay down and inside. Then he ran for his life.

“You and your mexicano friends fucked with the wrong hombre, MacTavish!” yelled Graves.

“Come on out and let’s talk about it,” quipped Soap. Daniela snorted, and despite the severity of the situation, Soap found himself smiling.

Graves seemed altogether less pleased. “You think this is a fucking game out here? You wanna play war? Let’s play some fucking war, chicos! One of you dipshits needs to die last. Who’s it gonna be?”

“Go fuck yourself, Graves.” Soap threw a brick of C4 straight into the tank’s path, silently congratulating himself when it blew.

“You got a healthy disrespect for authority, Soap. I like that about you!”

“You’re Shepherd’s lap dog. You get paid to break the rules.”

“There’s only two rules here, boys. Walk away… or win. Guess which one I choose?” Soap vaulted through a window. It wasn’t high, but the landing still made his hip throb in protest. He grunted softly. “Shoulda gone home when you had the chance, Soap- you and that asshole with the mask, hiding behind that uniform.”

Soap’s temper instantly flared. “You wore that uniform,” he ground out. He was crouched by another C4 stash, trying to judge Graves’ location.

“That uniform was a limitation!” shouted Graves. “I shed that skin!”

“Like a fuckin’ snake,” Soap hissed.

“Like a fuckin’ soldier, son.”

“You had to make your own little army ‘cause you couldn’t hack it in the real one.” This time, Soap managed to stick the side of the tank with C4 as it passed. He ran, detonated, and silently cheered again when he heard the second explosion.

Soap managed to tune out most of the rest of what Graves said, until he turned his attention to Rodolfo. His Spanish wasn’t great, but he picked up the general idea that Graves was saying the 141 were no friends to Los Vaqueros.

“Oye, pendejo!” Daniela’s voice suddenly cut through the radio. Most of what she said was lost to Soap, but she sounded furious. He picked out the words “friends”, “assholes like you”, “good people”, and “brothers”, and “death”. Hermanos hasta la muerte.

Graves must have understood more than Soap, because his driving became erratic and he shouted back to Daniela in what Soap did recognize as poorly pronounced Spanish. 

Her distraction gave him enough time to sneak up behind the tank and lay one last brick of C4 between the tank’s body and tread. But just as he started to back off, the gun began to swing in his direction. Soap braced himself to run, and then froze. 

“Graves!” Daniela shouted. She had leapt up to stand in the window of the building directly ahead of Soap. As the tank's gun swung back in her direction, Soap scrambled to his feet, racing forward. 

“Pinche tu madre,” she sneered. 

Soap could hear the tank’s gun spinning up.

“No!” He shouted. Daniela’s head snapped in his direction. Her face fell when they locked stares, eyes flashing with anxiety. She took half a step toward him, but Soap launched himself through the window. In one smooth motion, he wrapped his arm around Daniela’s waist, yanked her against himself, and pulled them to the ground. He landed hard on his shoulder as he heard the tank fire and rolled her under him as fast as he could, tucking his head against hers and shielding them both with his arms. The building crumbled under the impact, sheetrock and dust raining down on them. Several chunks of sheetrock landed across Soap’s back. That’ll be a few new bruises.

As it began to settle, Soap raised his head just enough to look down at Daniela. They were nose to nose when she opened her eyes, hands coming up to run over his covered head. 

“Y’alright?” Soap whispered. She nodded frantically. 

“You?” He nodded. As he shifted his shoulders, bits of rubble fell off and cracked against the ground. He winced. 

He looked up and around. Graves’ tank was rotating, looking for them. He glanced to the stairs, then looked back down at Daniela. 

“Hold onto me,” he whispered. Daniela cocked an eyebrow, but wrapped her arms around his neck. Soap grabbed one of her legs behind the knee, wrapping it around his waist, and she smirked before wrapping her other leg around his back as well. As serious as the situation was, their position wasn’t lost on Soap. Twice in one day? He swallowed hard. C’mon, MacTavish.

As quickly as he dared, he crawled for the stairwell. He could see Graves’ tank through the doorway on the opposite wall, facing away. In the last meter, he leapt to his feet and ran up several steps, stopping midway to lean against the wall. Daniela slid down his body, resting her hands on his chest. Soap shivered. They were both panting slightly. Her eyes shone as she looked up at him. 

“Gracías, guapo,” she said softly. Then her hand snapped up to her earpiece. She started down for a moment, then looked back up at Soap. “Rodolfo moved to Los Vaqueros private channel. He says there should be an RPG downstairs,” she said. 

Soap nodded, clicking through channels until he could hear Rudy’s voice. “I’ll get it,” he said.

Daniela grabbed his arm as he moved, stopping him in his tracks. “Be careful,” she said. He nodded, clasping her arm. 

“I will.”

He crept down the stairs, peeking around the wall to where he’d last seen Graves’ tank. It wasn’t there. Staying low, he rounded the corner, eyes searching frantically for the RPG.

“Check under the counter, hermano,” whispered Rodolfo. When Soap glanced up, he could barely see the other man peeking around a doorframe across the yard. He crept to the bar counter, slid open the door as quietly as possible, and grabbed the RPG inside.

“Siiick,” said Soap, raising the RPG to his shoulder. With his back to the wall, he slowly made his way to an opening, searching for Graves. Not seeing him, he stayed. And breathed. And waited.

He could hear the thing driving around outside, searching for him or the others. He just hoped they were well hidden.

His radio crackled. “He’s heading your way, Soap,” said Daniela quietly.

“Rog’,” he replied. “Stay down.”

Carefully, he crouched and turned, ready to fire as soon as the tank came into view. He didn’t have to wait long. With a deep breath, he stood, pulled the trigger, and dove behind the cabinet again. The explosion from the tank seemed to rock the very ground. He realized that he’d never detonated the last brick of C4. Double trouble, then.

Slowly, Soap stood and leaned around the corner. Graves’ tank was a ball of fire, smoke and flames billowing into the sky. He heard Daniela step down the stairs, then felt her small hand on his shoulder blade. Rudy peeked around the corner of a doorway, looking around before stepping outside. Soap and Daniela did the same, cautiously walking forward.

“You did it, Soap,” said Rodolfo softly.

“You two and me, hermano,” said Soap.

“Brought a gun to a tank fight.”

Soap chuckled, smiling under his mask. “Yeah we did!” He reached for his radio, clicking back to the main channel. “Soap to Ghost- I’m with Rudy. Graves is KIA. How’s Price?”“Angry. Lost a good cigar in the crash. Pilot’s okay, too. Out.”

Rodolfo relayed the message to Alejandro. They all took a moment to breathe. And then they moved out to meet Ghost Team 1.

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Soap’s head was spinning. They had all known Valeria was a wildcard, but he didn’t think any of them had expected her to drop the bomb of information that a missile was in Chicago. Not even Alejandro. Price handed her off to Los Vaqueros almost immediately, the threat in his voice clear. Soap wasn’t surprised, and he didn’t expect to ever see her alive again.

He was surprised when he had to lift Daniela up and out of the container after she lunged for Valeria. He dragged her out kicking and screaming in Spanish, all curses and threats. Rudy followed them out first, trying to calm her down, but there was nothing for it. The other woman was single-handedly responsible for the deaths of all of her family and friends. Soap couldn’t fault her rage.

Gaz came out next, raising his eyebrows at Soap in a silent question. Soap nodded, affirming that he was alright. Daniela had stopped thrashing, but her chest still rose and fell quickly against his arms. He’d had to lean back against the wall, lifting her feet off the ground to keep her from beelining to the container. Now she stood, back against his chest, hands gripping his tactical harness where it crossed his thighs.

“I won’t pretend to know what you’re feeling,” Gaz began softly. He paced slowly back and forth in front of them. “But I do know that she’s not worth throwing your life away.”

“She stole my life!” hissed Daniela. “She took my family. She took everything from me! And now she’s doing it all again! More people will lose their lives, lose their families, if she isn’t stopped!”

“But she gave you a purpose,” said Gaz firmly. He’d stopped pacing, staring directly at Daniela now. “You’ll never let that happen to anyone ever again. We are going to stop her. And I know it’s not the same thing, but she gave you a family, too. Hell, she gave you two families. You, Alejandro, Rodolfo? Los Vaqueros? You’ll always have a family with the 141, now.”

Soap squeezed her just a bit tighter at that, his own silent affirmation. After a moment, Daniela’s hands released his harness and lay flat against his legs. She seemed to sag back against him. Her voice shook slightly when she spoke.

“Gracias, hermano.”

Gaz simply nodded before returning to the container. For several minutes, Soap and Daniela said nothing. Then, very softly, she said “You can let me go.”

“Aye? You won’t kick me in the shins and run off to kill her anyway?”

Daniela snorted at that. “No.” With one final squeeze, Soap let her go. As he did, Alejandro came storming out of the container, followed closely by Rodolfo. He moved straight for Daniela, gripping her shoulders.

“We’re going to be hunted men, Dani,” he said. “I’m not letting her get away with this. Rodolfo and I will handle her, and we’ll handle the cartel. But you…” He looked up at Soap, then back at Daniela. He pointed to Soap with one finger. “You need to go with them. I don’t want you to be a part of this.”

“Alejandro, no, soy-”

“No,” he growled. He tilted his head back to look at the ceiling, and Soap realized when he looked at Daniela again that he was tearing up. He lowered his head to her level, staring at her intently. “What did I tell you the night we found you?”

Rodolfo had turned his head away, shoulders stiff. Soap couldn’t see her face, but he could hear in her voice that Daniela was tearing up, too. “You told me you would always protect me,” she whimpered.

Alejandro shook her gently. “This is me protecting you, hermana.” He pointed to Soap. “That man will protect you with his life. You told me so yourself. Rodolfo told me.” He glanced back to Soap, who nodded, stunned. “And I can see it when I look at him, and the way he looks at you. You have to go with them. You have to get that missile, and you have to stay out of Mexico until this dies down. And then you know we’ll welcome you back with open arms.”

Rodolfo turned, reaching out a hand to hold Daniela’s. “This has always been our fight, mijá,” he whispered. “It doesn’t have to be yours. And I know you chose it, but this time… just let us do this for you. Sabes que te amamos.”

Price and Gaz had come out of the container again, Price holding Valeria. They both nodded to Soap, who nodded to Daniela when she looked over to him. Her gaze dropped, and then she looked back to her men.

“Yo sé que tú,” she whispered.

Alejandro moved to Soap while Rodolfo hugged Daniela.

“Go. You have work to do,” he said. Then he pulled Soap closer, and softly said “Take care of her.”“You know I will,” whispered Soap. He backed toward their plane. “Keep fighting the good fight, hermano!” he called.“To the bitter end, my brother!” said Alejandro.

“Good luck, amigos,” said Rodolfo.

Price shoved Valeria into the backseat of Alejandro and Rodolfo’s vehicle while Soap, Ghost, and Daniela moved to board the aircraft Gaz had already started up.

“Ghost!” called Alejandro. Ghost turned back, cocking his head slightly. “No te pierdas, hermano!”

Whatever Ghost said back, Soap didn’t understand. But Daniela smiled, blowing a kiss with two fingers that Alejandro caught out of midair and held to his heart. Then they turned, boarded the plane, and were away.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Soap had long since abandoned his fear of heights. Walking down a 60-story building didn’t make him nervous, but the hostage situation did. Ghost’s calm helped him keep his cool, though, and soon enough, Daniela was getting hostages out of the building while Soap and Price moved on Hassan. They cleared entire floors of the building in record times.

“And that’s why they call him Soap,” mumbled Ghost. Daniela’s answering giggle warmed Soap’s heart. Upon hearing this, Ghost added “Did you know he’s the youngest one of us? Got in with the SAS at sixteen.”

“Sixteen? Soap, you get more and more impressive the more I learn about you!”

Soap’s face flamed.

Despite the hostages, the mission was going smoothly. Too smoothly. Then, Laswell announced that Hassan had the controls. Ghost confirmed visual on floor 46, and back out they went.

“Soap, we find those controls, it’s up to you to disarm that missile.”

“Copy that… done it once before.”

The RPG could have ruined the whole plan, but Soap and Price were both lucky that it missed them. They moved into the building as quickly as possible, clearing yet another room in record time with Ghost’s sniper support.

When Gaz called that they had the target cornered, Soap and Price raced in his direction. Then came Laswell saying that the missile was launching. Everyone was speaking at once.

“No, no, no!” screamed Price. 

“Fecking hell,” growled Soap.

“Watcher, where’s the target?” yelled Price.

“Unknown, we’re working on it.”

“Copy. We’re going for Hassan. This way Sergeant!” he yelled to Soap. Then, “Gaz, where’s Hassan?”

Price and Soap were rounding the corner when Gaz answered. “End of the hall! Hassan’s holed up behind those doors.”

Price’s response was furious. “Let’s clear this out and bag him, then.”

When they got the snake cam under the door, the whole thing went to shit. 

The door blew. Soap and Price flew back and Gaz collapsed like a bag of rocks. Soap’s ears were ringing, he was bleeding, and he could hardly breathe. Only Gaz’s quick recovery saved his life. He was dragged into cover before Price took a bullet and Gaz went back for him, too.

Everything after was a blur. One moment, Soap was leaping down a falling elevator shaft. The next, he was running from the man he stole the laptop from. Then hiding. Then detonating the missile with Laswell’s help. Then, running for his life, again. 

“Nicely done, Johnny. Now for the hard part,” said Ghost.

“That was the fuckin’ hard part, LT.”

“Let’s find out. You need to stay alive, take out the guards, and kill Hassan.”

Soap looked around frantically. “I just need a weapon,” he said.

“Make one,” Ghost replied. He sounded so nonchalant. It made Soap huff out a laugh.

“Aye. Like old times, huh LT?”

Ghost’s voice was fond when he said “Seems like yesterday.”

Soap replied with equal fondness. “It was yesterday.”

He hid. He ran. With Ghost’s help, he fashioned some makeshift weapons. Then he ran headlong into Hassan. Before he could react, his world went dark.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When Soap came to, he was being dragged by his foot. At first, he wasn’t sure where he was. Then he recognized the office he’d been chasing Hassan through.

Hassan. It was Hassan dragging him along.

Sluggishly, his mind went through his team. Ghost. Overwatch. Price. Holed up trying to recover. Gaz. Unknown. Daniela.

Daniela.

Alejandro had sent her with him and he didn’t even know where she was, whether she was safe. His heart twinged painfully. He didn’t have time to think, though. Hassan was yelling about fire and thinking they could stop him. Soap couldn’t focus on it.

Ghost.

“Ghost,” he whispered into his throat mic.

“Soap!”

“Watch… the window,” he managed.

Something exploded.

Hassan dragged him to his feet. Still going on about invading, not attacking.

He thrust Soap in front of him, pushing him toward the window. Soap desperately tried to keep his footing.

“Soap,” said Ghost. Soap vaguely recognized panic in his voice. “Soap, I see him, but I can’t-”

“Take the shot, LT,” mumbled Soap.

“What was that? What are you saying?” Hassan had him by his vest now, shaking him violently. 

“Soap, I can’t get a clear-”

“Take. The shot.” Soap’s jaw was clenched. It took all of his power to hold onto Hassan’s wrists enough not to fall back. Hassan was still pushing forward, shouting, and Soap was fighting a losing battle. Hassan was going to push him out of the window.

And he couldn’t stop it.

“I’m sorry,” said Ghost.

Then, just as Soap’s heels touched the ledge, searing pain shot through his chest. He lurched forward with the impact, falling into Hassan.

Hassan’s eyes were wide. Soap thought he saw blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His rattled brain couldn’t make sense of it as they both fell to the ground.

“Johnny, MOVE!” roared Ghost. With the last of his energy, Soap shoved as hard as he could, rolling off of Hassan’s body. Another piercing shot rang out and Hassan’s head cracked backward against the ground. 

Soap blinked at Hassan’s body. Ghost was shouting for him through his earpiece. Suddenly, the pieces clicked into place.

“You shot me,” he said dumbly to Ghost.

“Oh thank God,” muttered Ghost. He could hear Daniela shrieking in the background, too.

“You saved me,” he said. The whole room seemed colorful and soft. Spinning. Like a carousel.

Soap smiled, head lolling down.

He could vaguely hear Ghost and Daniela and Gaz yelling, but he was too tired to listen. Just a wee nap. That’s all I need.

Footsteps pounded nearby. With great effort, Soap turned his head. It didn’t hold where he wanted it to, just flopped onto the ground on the other side. He watched a small black pair of boots race across the floor toward him.

“No no no no, hijo de puta. Por favor, Dios, no.” Suddenly, Soap’s head and shoulders were being lifted. Then he was dragged back against something soft. He looked up. Daniela was running her hands over his head, his chest, clawing at his tactical vest. “Por favor, Dios, no,” she repeated. Her voice shook as badly as her hands and tears streamed down her face.

“Hey,” Soap said. He grinned up at her. “Whassa matter? Why’re you crying?”

He reached a hand up to her, wiping her cheek with his thumb. He couldn’t keep it raised and it flopped back to his side.

“John Soap MacTavish, you’d better not die on me,” she muttered. She had gotten his vest loose and was pulling his shirt up roughly. 

“Hey, bonnie, at least buy me dinner first,” he slurred. He chuckled. It was silly. It was all so silly. He could hear Ghost yelling faintly, but he wasn’t sure why. Daniela was leaning heavily on his chest, and he wasn’t sure about that either.

Suddenly, he felt as though he’d been sat out in snow for a good few hours. “Hey, are you cold?” he asked Daniela.

“Hey,” Daniela said sharply. She gripped his chin between her fingers. “Look at me.”

Clarity hit Soap like a ton of bricks. He’d been shot. He was bleeding. Cold from shock. That’s why Daniela was crying and Ghost was yelling. He’d been knocked out. Likely had a concussion. He looked up at her solemnly, grabbing her wrist with his hand. Don’t die on me, she’d said. He was dying.

They’d talked quite a bit over their few days together. Talked about their hopes and dreams, and how those fit into their dangerous lives. Talked about their dedication to their teams, their values, their futures. Talked about growing up, their families, how they’d gotten there. 

She’d asked him if he’d ever been in love.

He’d said he hadn’t. But he wasn’t so sure that was true, any more.

When he’d asked her, she’d said “maybe” with a sly smile his direction, all twinkling eyes and rosy cheeks.

He blinked, hard. He wanted to know what that meant.

“What did you mean… when you said maybe?” he panted out.

For a moment, Daniela just blinked at him. Then her eyes softened, tears slipping down her cheeks as she understood his question. “I meant I might be,” she whispered. “I’m not quite sure yet. You’ll have to give me some time to figure it out.”

Soap hummed, eyes drifting shut. “I’m pretty sure,” he breathed. Daniela gasped, but he reached up to touch her cheek before she could say anything. “You,” he began, voice a whisper. “You are the most… the most beautiful, intelligent, amazing woman that… that I’ve ever-”

Daniela didn’t let him finish. Her lips were on his before he knew it. He was kissing her before even registering that she’d leaned down. Her lips were soft, just like he’d imagined. She tasted like strawberries and mint and salt. Tears. She kissed him desperately, and he kissed her desperately back. His hand slid back to tangle in her curls. So unbelievably soft.  He could hardly move his head, but she tilted her own to deepen the kiss. She ran her tongue along the seam of his lips and he moaned, low in his chest. He weakly tried to pull her closer. No point hiding it now. Besides, if he was going to die, what better way to go? More footsteps pounded in the door. He could vaguely make out Gaz and Price’s voices.

And then, above them all, nearly a full octave up in his panic, Ghost. “Johnny!”

Daniela’s teeth lightly grazed his lip. Soap sighed, then everything went black.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Soap woke to a gentle beeping. His head and mouth felt like they were stuffed with cotton. His body felt like one big bruise, but with shards of glass sprinkled throughout it. He couldn’t open his eyes. There was light pressure against his right hip.

He breathed deeply. Ouch.

Slowly, his eyes cracked open. The room was dark, but moonlight streamed in through a window out of the corner of his eye. He could see that the ceiling was bright white.

“Johnny?”

Slowly, he turned his head toward the familiar voice. As he did, Ghost rose to his feet from his chair, taking two quick steps to the bedside.

Soap opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Ghost scrambled to pour a cup of water, then gently helped Soap lift his head to drink. As he did, Soap realized what the pressure on his hip was. Daniela.

Her head lay at the junction of his torso and legs, black curls shining in the moonlight. The bags under her eyes were nearly as dark as Ghost’s grease paint. Her right hand gripped his thigh, and her left hand held his. She didn’t stir.

Soap swallowed several times. “What happened?” he finally asked.

Ghost’s gaze dropped to the floor. “Do you want the short or long story?” he asked. His voice sounded exhausted.

“How about the short one, for now?”

“I shot you,” said Ghost. For a moment, Soap thought he wouldn’t elaborate. Then, Ghost looked up to meet his eyes. “I shot you, Johnny. Because you told me to. Because you’re the best of us, and you’re clever.”

Soap nodded, eyes drifting shut, not processing Ghost’s words.

“You’re lucky I’m such a good shot,” Ghost added, grumbling.

Soap chuckled softly, wincing as he did. “That I am,” he said. “Hassan?”

“I shot him, too. Twice, actually.”

“Through me the first time, eh LT?”

Ghost looked unamused. But when Soap grinned at him, his eyes softened. “That’s right, Johnny.”

“Perfect shot, LT.”“You called it, Sargeant.”

“The best of us, huh LT?”

“Can it, Sergeant.”

For a moment, the two shared a companionable silence. Then, Ghost spoke so softly that Soap thought he may have imagined it. “I almost didn’t take it.”

“The shot? Why not?”

“There was no shot. He had you directly in front of him, and he would have thrown you out that window before I had time to move.”

“You still got him, LT. I’ll call that a win.”“We got him, Johnny.”

“I’m starting to think you really have taken a shine to me, Simon.”

Ghost hung his head before looking back up. “Maybe I have.” He turned, picking up his chair, and sat it right by the bed as quietly as he could. “That one has, for sure.” He nodded to Daniela.

Soap looked down at her. “How long have you both been here?”

“Since you got here,” Ghost mumbled. Soap’s head snapped back to him.

“And when was that?”

Ghost shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Four days, give or take.” Soap stared at him. Finally, he threw up his hands. “You, Sergeant, should have died.”

He lifted one gloved hand, ticking off fingers as he spoke. “You have a field-treated gunshot wound to your right arm, which was in fact infected. Thank your lucky stars that Daniela saw through your idiocy.” That explained a lot of little things he’d missed. Like a passenger in a getaway vehicle. “A bruised bone in your hip. Three cracked ribs. A grade four concussion. Multiple hairline fractures in your legs. And a shredded left pec from a 50 caliber bullet. Might I add that last one only missed your heart by centimeters?”

Soap snorted. “Well, that explains a lot about how I feel. Hell, how I’ve been feeling.”

Ghost just shook his head. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Thought we lost ya. Again.”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy, LT.”

“Good,” grumbled Ghost. He looked toward Daniela. “I had to pry her off of you,” he said softly. 

Soap looked down at her again. She looked younger than before, peaceful in her slumber. But he could see the exhaustion plainly on her face. “Yeah?” he asked. 

“Mhmm,” murmured Ghost. “Could hardly get her across the hall to shower.”

Soap let his eyes drift shut, exhaustion washing over him all over again. “Where are we, anyway?”

“Amsterdam. Laswell has friends here. We’re in a private hospital.”

“Price? And Gaz?”

“They’re trying to find a lead on Shepherd.”

Soap nodded sleepily, relieved that their squad was still intact. “She kissed me,” he murmured. 

“Doctors say she saved your life with that.”

Soap hummed, cracking one eye open to peer at Ghost. He shrugged. 

“Something about the adrenaline helping to push off the shock.”

Soap hummed again, letting his eyes slide shut.

“Sleep, Johnny.”

He did. 

When he woke again, sunlight was streaming through the window. He shifted slightly, and felt Daniela spring up when he did. 

When he opened his eyes, she was staring at him anxiously. 

“Good morning, beautiful,” Soap murmured. 

Tears sprang instantly to her eyes. She squeezed his thigh, standing and reaching her hand up to cup his face.

“Oh, Johnny,” she whispered.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” he said. He reached up a hand to hold hers against his cheek. “I’m right here.”

She shifted a leg up onto the bed, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his.

“I thought I’d lost you.”

“I’m right here,” he whispered again. “Ghost said you saved my life.”

She made a strangled sound, half laugh and half sob. “I couldn’t let you go like that.”

Soap shifted his hand to her face, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Well,” he said. “If you remember, I was a bit out of my mind.” He tilted her chin up gently, whispering “Care to give me another taste of those lifesaving powers of yours?”

Daniela lunged forward, sealing her lips to his. Soap eyes slid shut as he grinned, pulling her closer. Her mouth opened against his, and he ran his tongue against hers. When she whimpered into his mouth, the primal need to have her close overcame him. He leaned up as far as he could, cursing the sling on his left shoulder, chasing her mouth. His hand moved to the back of her neck, holding her against him. She straddled him carefully, elbows coming to rest above his shoulders. 

Her whole body shuddered when his hand came to rest on her hip.

His eyes snapped open. “I’m sorry-”

“No,” she cut him off, panting. She reached one hand up, threading her fingers through his mohawk. “There’s no reason.” Soap groaned when her nails lightly scratched his scalp.

“Woman, the things I would do to you if I wasn’t stuck in this bed…”

She shuddered again before she leaned down and kissed the place that his jaw and neck met. His whole body involuntarily arched off the bed, hand moving from her hip to the small of her back to pull her against him. She gasped at the contact. However light she was, her weight on his hip hurt. But he was too far gone to care. He leaned up again, gently sucking her lip between his as she sighed into his mouth.

His mind was clouded with the desire for intimacy with her. He wanted all of her. First in their single shared night, and now in their kiss, Soap saw waking up to her every morning, cooking together, trips to the stormy Scottish coast and the sunny Caribbean. He’d been drawn to her from the moment he saw her, and he knew from the way she looked at him that she’d been drawn to him just as much. He’d tried so hard to remain professional. To keep distance. To be a gentleman. To pretend he hadn’t fallen in love with her the moment he heard her speak.

Then she’d slept in his cot and he’d had to know what it was like to have her in his arms. Having tasted her once, there was no going back to professional and distant. Having tasted her twice? She owned him. There was no pretending, now.

His train of thought was interrupted by a sharp cough from the doorway. Daniela sprang up, scrambling off the bed with one hand covering her mouth. Soap’s head whipped toward the door. Ghost was there, finding something very interesting to look at in the ceiling, along with a pretty nurse who was smiling widely.

“Glad to see you’re feeling better, Sergeant,” she quipped. Soap grinned wryly first at her, then at Daniela. “My name’s Cat, I’m a friend of Kate’s. Mind if I take a look at you?”

Soap nodded, Daniela sat herself in the corner, and Ghost continued to pay close attention to the ceiling and walls. Soap narrowed his eyes, watching the Lieutenant closely. 

Cat turned to Daniela and Ghost. “Would you two-”

“They can stay,” Soap cut her off. Cat turned to look at him, eyebrows raised. He smiled. “Nothing they haven’t seen already.” When she helped him sit up and lift his gown off, Soap got his first real look at the damage. At Los Vaqueros safe house, and then later at their base, he’d been too rushed and too tired to really look at himself.

Purple bruises so dark they nearly looked black covered his ribs. Just above his boxers, he could see more bruising on his hip that was nearly green now. Scrapes and cuts covered his knees, his arms, his sides. The bullet wound in his right arm was healing nicely, but the skin around it was still pink and tender. He was grateful that his chest was wrapped tightly so he couldn’t see the damage from Ghost’s sniper.

Soap looked away.

“So Cat,” he asked. “How did you meet Laswell?”

“Oh, she and I met probably fifteen years ago. She was still on the field, back then. I was still in training, working in a field hospital. I patched her and John up after a rough mission. I guess she decided she liked me, because as soon as I graduated, she snapped me right up.” She turned to Ghost, who had finally looked her way, and smiled. “Good thing, too. I’ve fixed this one up more times than I can count, and Kate tells me he won’t let anyone else touch him.”

Ghost looked away again so quickly that he missed Soap’s gleeful expression. “Oh, is that so?” teased Soap. Ghost shot him a warning glare. Something to ask about later.

“I trust her,” muttered Ghost.

Cat beamed at him. She looked back to Soap, smiling conspiratorially. “Quite the compliment, eh?”

“That it is,” he answered smugly. Ghost held his stare, unamused. Soap looked back toward Daniela, eyes softening. She smiled back at him, looking tired but content. Cat was wrapping up her check, talking about physical therapy and taking it easy. Soap couldn’t wait to have a moment with Daniela again.

“Alright, well I’ll be back tonight to check in with you again. Simon, would you walk me out?” Soap’s eyes shot back to Ghost at that, but Ghost refused to meet his gaze. Definitely something to ask about later.

When Cat and Ghost had gone, Daniela came back to Soap’s side, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. She gently took his left hand, careful not to lift it or otherwise disturb the bandages.

“Take all the time you need,” Soap said softly. Daniela lifted her eyes from their joined hands, cocking her head. He held her gaze. “You said I’d have to give you some time to figure it out. Take all the time you need.” Now it was Soap’s turn to look down at their hands. He grinned, lopsided. “I’ll be here.”

Daniela reached out, lifting his chin with her fingertips. Her dark eyes watered slightly around the edges. “I’m pretty sure,” she whispered.

“Oh, now that sounds familiar,” chuckled Soap. He leaned toward her, eyes flitting down to her lips. “C’mere, you.”

Their first kiss had been desperate. Their second quickly turned heated. This one was soft, slow, gentle. Exploratory and sweet. Soap stroked her cheek, looking up at her from under hooded eyes. “Tell me you feel it, too,” he whispered.

Daniela nodded, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his. “I feel it.”

“Yeah? Not just ‘maybe’?”

Daniela smiled wide, smacking his shoulder lightly. Soap laughed, loud and full, and immediately regretted it. Wincing, he smiled back at her. 

He was anxious to hear from Price and Gaz, and nervous about what would happen when Alejandro and Rodolfo called Daniela back. They’d have to go after Shepherd, and she might have to go back to Mexico. Maybe nothing would ever truly have a chance to start with them. Maybe they’d die. But maybe not. Maybe everything would be alright.

[supercorpkid]

Your Name Hurts

Supergirl, Kara Danvers x Reader!, Nia Nal.

Word count: 3030.

Notes: Inspired by Hailee Steinfeld's song :)

“Wait,” Nia stops you before you go on any longer. “Who are you talking about?”

Kara. Kara. Kara. You’re always talking about Kara.

But you don’t want to say that. You don’t want to utter her name, can’t have it leaving your lips. 

“Hmm, you know-“ You try to tell her with your eyes, but Nia makes sure she doesn’t get it so you have to say it out loud.“Kara, obviously.”

Her name burns your lips, almost literally. You can feel the awful ghost feeling of tingling. Like your body is trying to get rid of all the toxins, trying to set you free from this unhealthy obsession.

“Oh, right right.” 

You wonder if Nia can see how your stomach hurts and whether she notices that your heart is squeezing on your chest. Can she fathom the bitter taste Kara’s name leaves on your mouth? 

“I’ll bring it over with me to game night.” She peeks inside the box you put together with all of Kara’s stuff.

She can’t. 

Your best friend doesn’t get what it’s like to lose Kara, because she hasn’t. She won’t. She doesn’t understand what it is like to have all of Kara’s love and to have snatched it out of your hands. Nia will never know how Kara’s name hurts whenever it has to leave your mouth.

“Y/N? You’re there?” Nia waves her hand in front of your face waking you up from your trance. Your eyes focus back on her and you agree with your head. “Should I bring something back as well, from Kara’s apartment?”

“Maybe. I don’t know whether she’s packed everything I left behind, though.” But you're hoping she hasn’t. You’re praying she hasn’t touched any of your stuff and that they still live in her apartment rent free. You hope they don’t make her want to get rid of everything, that instead she thinks they feel like home. “If she gives you something is fine, otherwise I’ll just stop by CatCo one of these days.”

“Oh, you haven’t been to CatCo in weeks!” 

So she has noticed how hard it is for you. Maybe Nia has noticed all the effects. How it hurts your stomach, cuts you like a knife, how it still feels like you're sinking even when you’re holding both sides of the life raft.

“Ah, yeah, been a while. Should I not go? Does, like, everyone hates me there or something?” You fidget with your fingers, not looking up at her, while still desperately needing to hear the answer.

“What? No! Y/N, it’s Kara. She wouldn’t.” 

But you don’t know what Kara would or wouldn’t do at this point, because she is a fucking liar. A genuine liar, who says it’s someone, but in reality is someone else completely. And then, when she finally tells you the truth about her, after so many fucking months of sleeping next to you, she still has the gall to fucking leave you. So you don’t, you absolutely do not know what Kara wouldn’t do to your name.

Your face reddens, sad and mad at the same time. The betrayal makes your mouth taste bitter and it stings, like an open cut.

“Well, I guess we’ll see.” You excuse yourself back to your room while your flatmate goes to a game night at your ex’s apartment.

You have forgiven Nia for not taking any sides, mainly because you know she has learned Kara's secret identity exactly when you did. But Nia had felt no hysteria whatsoever, forgiving that lying traitor too fast. You also know how hard it would be for her to work with Kara while hating her guts, so of course you have forgiven her about it, you just haven’t forgotten. But that feeling is staying lodged for another day.

“Hey, hey.” Nia tried to calm you down when she saw you spiraling. “She is still Kara.”

Kara had just flown out of the window, after you told her to get the hell away from you.

“Are you kidding me?” You yelled, livid. “She is not Kara. She is a sneaky little snake who has been toying with me and my feelings, for what, months?” You dropped yourself on your couch. “Fuck, she’s been lying to me for a whole year.” You said when you finally realized what day it was and how long you knew Kara then.

“It’s a secret identity for a reason, Y/N.” Said Nia trying to sound obvious, but coming out extremely condescending. Just because you didn’t have a secret identity, doesn’t mean you didn’t understand how they’re supposed to work.

“Yeah, to hide yourself from villains and criminals, not your fucking girlfriend. The supposed love of your life. The one you planned to grow old with and adopt dogs and babies and even bunnies.”

Nia dropped herself on the couch next to you, hands went to your arm, for a light squeeze.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Nia breathed out, looking away while you wiped your face clean from the tears. “If it’s any consolation, I think Lena also doesn’t know. So, you know, it’s not you —“

“Of course it’s not me! Lena is her best friend and she is still lying to her. She made you come out and tell her your secret, and only told you hers when she pitted you.”

“That’s not —“

“It was exactly what happened, do not bullshit me. And you know what, it’s not fair. It’s not fair Lena and I only got one side of her. It’s not fair we didn’t get all of Kara when we gave ourselves entirely to her. It’s not fair and it’s not ok for her to think this other side of her wasn’t going to change everything between us.”

You got up, walking in circles. Hands covering the fresh set of tears springing from your eyes.

“She saw all there was to see about us. The good, the bad, the better. She’s touched our hearts and soul and body so thoroughly.”

“You’re not talking about Lena anymore, right?”

You go on, unfazed and unbothered by her comments. “And we only got to see, what? What she deemed we were trustworthy enough to know? That’s fucking bullshit, Nia! It’s — it’s almost evil of her.”

“Ok, that’s just not —“

“Well, no more. I’ll say she doesn’t get to lie to us anymore. She doesn’t get to choose what side we get to see. I have to go.”

“Wait, wait! Where? Where are you going?”

But you were gone before she had the chance to stop you. In retrospect, maybe she should’ve.

“Lena!” You didn’t knock on her door, neither rang her doorbell, you just kept slamming your hands and yelling her name. She didn’t take long to open the door.

“Hey, hey. What’s going on?” Lena took one good look at your redden face and puff eyes to know something was completely off about you. “Are you ok?”

“She’s a fucking liar! She’s been lying to us for ages. We’ve been so fucking stupid!”

“What? Who? What are you talking about?”

“Kara! Your — Your so called best friend. My so called girlfriend.” Lena raised her eyebrows at you, and like she suddenly realized you’re still at her doorstep, her hands enveloped your wrist and she pulled you inside. When she locked the door behind her, your voice immediately kept going. “Kara is a liar.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Well, don’t. She’s been lying to you ever since you two met.” Lena silently asked you to go on. “Kara is Supergirl.”

“What?” Lena asked dumbfounded. She didn’t talk for a while, but you could see on her face how much she just wanted to deny that. To refuse that hypothesis. To tell you it’s not possible and you’re going insane. But she couldn’t. “What?”

“We were fooled by glasses and a ponytail. Trust me, I can’t believe it either.” 

“But —“ And the sentence is left like that. 

You felt horrible, awful, vile for screaming Kara’s secret on the top of your lungs like that, but also you’re so mad you couldn’t stop yourself even if you tried.

In retrospect, sure, Kara had every reason to feel hurt. To feel like she couldn’t trust you, given she told you her biggest secret and you literally ran off to tell Lena the next second.

You felt betrayed, then she felt betrayed, and you both hurt each other more than it was ever supposed to. 

Nia comes back from game night with none of your stuff, to find you nowhere at home. She is quick to find you at the nearest bar, so drunk you can’t speak properly.

“Nia!” The familiar bartender calls her when she steps in, pointing at you. “I'm so glad you’re here, I don’t know what to do anymore, she won’t stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Cursing Kara’s name. I thought about calling her, but —“

“No, no. It’s fine.” Nia makes way to where you are. “Hey, you’re drunk enough. Let’s go home.”

“I — I shouldn’t ‘ve don’it.” You slur, pathetically, getting the hiccups right after. “Kara’s name hurts.”

Nia, holding you tight by the arm, scared you might just fall over from your stool. “What do you mean her name hurts?”

It’s between hiccups and shots that you manage an explanation. “It hurts, Nia. Like poison on my veins.”

“Ok Y/N, you’re not making sense. Let’s get you home.” She says after sharing one look with the bartender. 

Nia holds you by the waist, slowly walking outside, but you never stop talking. You don’t even care if she can hear you or not, all of your feelings have been bubbling inside ever since Kara left and you tried to shut them down and pretend you were ok, now they just want out. 

“It’s not fair we’ll only get to be half written. No ending to the story. No happy ending.” You look up to Nia. “I just can’t stomach it.”

And that’s when you detach yourself from her, falling on your hands and knees, then ridiculously crawling to a bush so you can throw up. 

“No taxi will stop if they see you throwing up in a bush. Come on, Y/N.” 

“Kara is gone.” You clean your mouth with the back of your hand. Look up to Nia, doe-eyed and tearing up. “Do you think my name hurts her too?”

She thinks about it, deciding on the best answer. She seems to decide that the only person who can give you this answer is Kara herself, so she presses the emergency button on her watch. 

You have no sense of time, but to you it was only a second later that you see Supergirl landing in front of you. Cape flying gloriously, almost hitting you in the face. 

“Nia, what’s wrong?” Kara’s voice is strangled on her chest. So Nia points to the floor and she turns around to find you there. 

Her face remains inscrutable. No emotions, no affection, no feelings. 

“Y/N.” She kneels in front of you. Hands going to your arms for support. “Are you ok?”

You barely register her question. She said your name and didn’t even wince. No way she ain’t feeling it too. No way your name doesn’t burn her lips the same way it burns yours.

“Not ok.” It’s Nia who answers for you, because you haven’t got a word out yet. “Drunk and sorry, about Kara.”

But Kara herself doesn’t look at Nia, too preoccupied with meeting your eyes to read something, since apparently you can’t talk.

“Let’s fly her home.” 

Kara picks you up in a bridal style and your entire body fires up under her touch. She smells exactly the same. The same perfume, the same smell so fundamentally hers you wouldn’t know how to describe, the same way home always smelled like. So you breathe her in, even though your heart is squeezing on your chest telling you to stop. 

Stop smelling her! Stop getting worked up because of her touch! Stop wanting her back! You can’t have it. Won’t have her back. Stop hoping, praying, agonizing for it! 

Supergirl lands inside your apartment, right behind Nia. They’re not talking, but are saying whatever they need to say through hands and eyes. Supergirl takes you to the bathroom after nodding to Nia.

“Alright, well,” She puts the glasses back on her face and her suit disappears, and then she is just Kara. Your Kara. But not actually yours. The person you fell in love with. Not the superhero, not the alter ego, just little old quirky Kara with her thousand dollar smile and perfect baby blue eyes. “you, ah, just take a shower so you can sober up.”

She doesn’t have to say it twice for you to immediately start undressing. 

“Wait, what-“ She looks up, trying to ignore your nude figure in front of her. “What are you doing?”

“Shower.” You state, sitting inside the empty bath tube and holding your legs close to your chest.

“You could’ve waited until I had left.” 

You look up to her. Big eyes, unable to focus due to the tears still threatening to leave your eyes. She meets your gaze again, and you don’t have to say it. Don’t have to point out that she’s already seen you naked a million times before. That she’s touched you, and kissed you all over as well. 

So Kara sighs, understanding. Makes way to the tap to turn it on for you, and soon you feel the warm water rising up your body.

“Ok, I’m gonna leave you to it. Take care, Y/N.” She’s almost turning around when you speak.

“Does it hurt?”

“Does what hurt?” She turns back at you, but you can’t meet Kara’s gaze anymore. Not while you say it.

“My name.” You sigh, feeling impossibly sober already. Like you just took 5 shots of coffee. This conversation feels exactly like that, like an impossible amount of energy coursing through your veins when it has your heart beating so loud it’s ringing on your ears. “Does my name hurt you when you say it? Does it make your lips burn? Does it feel like a knife through your heart? Does it make your heart sink so low on your chest you wonder if it’s still there at all?”

You look up to her shocked expression, tears falling silently from her eyes, and surely she can tell your face is wet not only from the bath anymore.

“Does it kill you when you have to say it? Does it get stuck on your throat like a lump? Are you scared of saying it because it will probably bring tears to your eyes?” 

She doesn’t answer. Eyes darting anxiously between your face, the fresh cuts on your knees, and your anxious hands on the water. Kara’s mouth is agape, ready to say something, but her brain is possibly still trying to comprehend the whole question.

“You’re drunk.” Kara smooths her hands on her cardigan, adjusts her glasses, and there’s nothing that screams Kara more than that action alone. So the tears keep streaming down your face. “Let’s talk about this some other time.”

But you barely register what she means, because the only thing you register is that she is leaving. Again. Always. 

You wake up with a terrible headache and a sense of regret. Of course you remember last night, and the fact that your ex had to literally go pick up your sorry ass from the bar because you couldn’t even walk.

So the fact that someone is ringing your doorbell, today of all days, it’s the worst of things that could happen to you.

Still, you roll out of bed because Nia is not answering the door so she must not be home, and make your way to the door. 

Her name is stuck on your throat. Kara’s name has been stuck there for months. And it doesn’t leave your mouth even after you open the door to see her on the other side. Not even after the initial shock.

“It doesn’t.” Kara says as soon as you two lock eyes and your surprised face eases up a little. 

“What?”

“Your name. It doesn’t burn my lips. Your name doesn’t hurt me, Y/N.” Kara’s voice is small, strangled on her chest. “Your name does the opposite. It — It makes my heart soar.”

You swallow deep, opening the door so she can walk inside because this is not a conversation you want all your neighbors to hear.

“You said it last night.” She makes sure you remember, turning to you as you close the door. “you asked me if your name hurts me and it doesn’t. It could never.”

“But I hurt you. Betrayed your trust. Did horrible things.” You try, though you don’t really want her to be hurt by your name. 

“Yeah. And I hurt you, and betrayed your trust, and did horrible things.” Kara finally admits. “Does, umm, does my name hurt you?”

“Yeah.” The admission makes you feel like a ton of bricks has been lifted from your shoulders. “It kills me. It kills me to know I’m not using it to call you, I’m only using it to talk about how I lost you. I hate saying your name when I know you’re not — you’re not mine.”

Kara breathes out, reaching for your arm. “I’ve always been yours.” 

“Kara.” You beg and that’s just it. That’s all that is. You say her name and nothing happens. Your stomach doesn’t twist and turn. Your mouth doesn’t taste bitter. It doesn’t hurt. Not when she’s the one you’re begging to, anyways. “Kara. Kara.”

“Does it still hurt?” Her hand slowly makes its way up your arm, shoulder, neck.

“No. Not when you’re around. Nothing hurts when you’re around.” 

Kara pulls you in for a kiss. Passionate and demanding, like she too terribly missed your body and mouth.

“Not even the cuts on the knee, huh?” She jokes, making you crack up a smile your mouth hasn't known in months. “I’ve missed that smile.”

“I’ve missed you.”

[yukidragon]

Since its almost Halloween can we get some yandere werewolf Joseph head canons, please?!

Ho, hoooo~ That sounds like a fun little AU right there. I hope you don’t mind if I specifically use my version of sunshine, Alice, for this answer. It might help me get inspired to make another AU short fic for her and Jack... or rather Joseph. ;3

Hmm... lots of ways to take this. For example, I could go with a similar angle I used for my Vampire AU, in that everything is basically the same, just Joseph was a werewolf before he died, which now makes him a werewolf ghost(?) who was released from this cursed VHS prison by Alice.

Buuuut that would be Jack and not Joseph wouldn’t it? After all, he would be in the persona of the character of Sunny Day Jack, so let’s go with the college AU as our basis, shall we? I’m sure that version of Joseph would make a fine yandere werewolf.

BTW, for those of you who haven’t seen it, here’s a picture of Joseph in the College AU that Jambeebot/Sauce drew and posted publicly on their twitter.

A tired but handsome lad, perfect for some wolfy shenanigans, don’t you think?

Just as a quick reminder, please don’t repost any of the pictures posted privately on the Snaccpop Studios Patreon. For just $3, you can get a peek of the good stuff, and that’s cheaper than a cup of coffee like the one Jojo here is holding. You could also consider joining the Something’s Wrong with Sunny Day Jack kickstarter. It recently hit $45,000, so the Nick route was just unlocked!

Oh, and while I’m plugging stuff, why not check out Sunshine in Hell or Sunshine in Another World, my Sunny Day Jack fanfics? I’d love it if you read them and let me know what you think.

Also, I want to remind everyone this series is an Adults Only game, and there’s probably going to be a smutty headcanon or two in the bunch. I mean, we are talking about a werewolf AU. I’m practically obligated to mention knotting at least once.

Oh, before I forget, here’s the obligatory tags for @channydraws and @earthgirlaesthetic.

Thanks for indulging my side-tangent, now back to the headcanons.

I haven’t really touched on the College AU before, but now’s as good of a time as any, just with a little supernatural twist to it. There’s not really any “canon” lore to this AU, just Joseph looking pretty stylish as a college student, so I’m just gonna go crazy and have fun with it. Okay? Okay!

First off, it’s modern day, with cell phones, super fancy coffee drink shops, and obscene student loan debts. Joseph’s family/school life has been shit like in the normal universe, with parents who don’t love him (and probably regret ever having him), but he didn’t run away from home (or if he did, he eventually went back). Instead, he doubled down on his education to get a college scholarship that’ll get him the hell away from his shitty home life and hometown.

Of course, being a student reliant on a scholarship for his funds, Joseph has to work his ass off to maintain high enough grades to keep it. This leads to a lot of late nights, dark circles under his eyes, and a rewards card at the local Sunbucks coffee shop that gets used more than his phone. He gets so much coffee there that the barista even learned how to spell his name right!

The college happens to be the same unnamed college that Alice(/MC), Shaun, and Ian attended. Joseph, being interested in acting, winds up in some of the same classes as the three.

Now, we could say things in this continuity are mostly the same as canon, with Alice and Ian dating at the start of college. This would be when Joseph gets to meet his sunshine while being an ordinary college student instead of a ghost(?) clown actor. Jealousy and love triangles ensue.

But, nah, let’s shake that timeline up little more with some of that werewolf spice, shall we? In fact, let’s rewind the timeline just a little to some events before college starts.

Joseph comes from a pack of werewolves. His parents are still unloving and don’t pay attention to him, but man does being a supernatural creature complicate matters even more. There’s the whole pack hierarchy with alphas and what not (which even Joseph knows is something real wolves don’t do, but then again real wolves don’t transform or have supernatural nonsense going on with them either). You have to be the biggest and strongest to get any power or attention, which is more reason for him to go through a rebellious stage... only this period of teenage angst involves fangs and claws instead of a pocket knife.

So why then, did Joseph not run away from home in this universe when things feel even more isolating for him? He did, but this time it was during a full moon after a particularly rough tumble with his pack. He made it to an area without local wolves of any variety, and on that moonlit night he found himself a ray of sunshine.

Alice’s childhood home has a large backyard that leads into a forest. Being familiar with these woods and with no dangerous wildlife to speak of in the area, it wasn’t at all out of the ordinary for her to take a late night stroll. When she heard a faint whimpering, she assumed it was one of the family dogs. What she found in the dim light of the moon and her cell phone’s flashlight app was a juvenile “dog” with dark chocolate colored fur that had a pretty blue shine where the light hit it.

The poor thing was all covered in cuts, and growled at the strange human approaching him when she got close. Alice felt sorry for it, but knew better than to get too close. Joseph wasn’t exactly happy about being found, and was relieved when she left, only to be surprised when she returned with a couple bowls, one filled with dogfood and the other water.

Joseph figured out her misunderstanding and found it kind of funny. This stranger was treating him as a dog more kindly than his parents or his teachers ever did, speaking soothingly and not getting too close. He snubbed the dogfood because he wasn’t that desperate yet, but he was thirsty after running away so far.

Alice smelled pretty nice to Joseph, really nice in fact. He got closer to her to get a better sniff of her scent underneath the artificial perfumes of her soap and deodorant. She knew better than to move when he got closer, lest she startle him, and he decided to be cheeky and lick her hand when he noticed some cookie crumbs still stuck to her fingers.

What Joseph didn’t expect was that Alice took that as a sign he wanted to be petted. It was startling, to say the least. No one had ever pet him before, not even his parents!

Then again, they didn’t hug him either.

It felt... nice. Far nicer than it had any right to feel, especially after he felt so shitty after getting roughed up by his shitty pack. Joseph melted under the touch and leaned into Alice as she used both hands to put him so gently, his tail wagging for the first time in forever.

Werewolves hid among humanity, but didn’t have much respect for them. Joseph didn’t see a reason to respect humans or werewolves, but this one... this one felt nice, really, really nice. Maybe it was just because of the full moon making him feel more wolf-like and instinctive, but he thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be this human’s pet... at least until he recovered from his injuries. He shouldn’t stay too long in case one of his pack decided to track him down to punish him for running away. 

Alice felt so warm, and Joseph wanted more of her touch. He could’ve cried when she hugged him and called him a good boy.

Unfortunately, such a beautiful moment didn’t last long, as Alice started to cough and she backed from Joseph while covering her mouth and nose. “I guess your owner’s a smoker, huh?”

Joseph never batted an eye whenever a teacher caught him with cigarettes. Their detentions, wagging fingers, and warnings of the danger of teenage smoking never reached him. If anything, their obnoxious lectures just made him want to cut class to light up another joint. It was only when Alice, the first person to hug him in forever, had to put some distance between them so she could breathe did he regret ever picking up the habit.

Even still, Alice brought Joseph back to her house with the intention of taking him to the vet to get him treated in the morning. The family dogs were wary of him, as was expected since they had a better sense of the danger a werewolf posed, but her human family were welcoming. Fortunately, acting friendly enough convinced them that he simply was a very wolf-like breed rather than an actual wolf, let alone a werewolf.

Still, they kept a more careful distance from Joseph than Alice did. They looked him over, and he allowed a few pets, but none of them smelled as appealing as Alice, or cuddled him like she did. Unfortunately, being indoors made it harder to avoid the smell of smoke, so she was forced to keep her distance.

It made Joseph feel a little lonely.

During the night when everyone was asleep, Joseph raided the fridge in a form that actually had opposable thumbs and prowled around the house. He found Alice in her room, but he couldn’t stay long when she started coughing in her sleep. He did linger long enough to notice that she had some fantasy romance novels, a couple of which involved supernatural creatures like werewolves.

Joseph wanted to stay and get to know Alice, but he was a danger to her. Not only would the pack find him if he didn’t keep going, but something as stupidly mundane as a smoking habit was keeping him away from the first person to make him feel warm and cared for in his life.

That night, Joseph reconsidered what he really wanted. He wanted to find a new life, a better life, one with actual love in it. Before he didn’t know how to do it besides forcing his parents, teachers, peers... just someone to finally look at him like a person and not a burden. Now... now there was a chance. He found a ray of sunshine in his dark life. He had a goal to work towards.

Joseph returned to the pack, but not before getting some information he could use, like Alice’s home address and phone number. He would sneak back to watch her from a distance, waiting until it would be safe for him to see her again. He quit smoking, but it would be a while until he stopped smelling of smoke.

One time when Joseph snuck by to see Alice, he saw a scrawny human boy by her side. It wasn’t unexpected - humans spent time with humans, though it did make him feel lonely to see her spending time with someone else when he couldn’t. Worse, was how much fun they were having, laughing, playing around and joking together. They were close.

Then Joseph caught wind of the boy’s pheromones... and hers as well.

The two of them were attracted to each other.

It irritated Joseph, which wasn’t helped by his nicotine withdrawal. Yes, humans were meant to be with humans, and he was supposed to mate with another werewolf and all that bullshit, but fuck that! He hadn’t even gotten the chance to talk to Alice yet, and here was this little toad daring to hug and lust after the first person to show him just the smallest scrap of warmth.

Joseph couldn’t handle it.

Ian had some incidents coming home from Alice’s house where he was stalked by a wild dog or a wolf that chased after him, snapping teeth and growling. However, it would mysteriously only go after him when he was alone and somehow always avoided his attempts at snapping a photo on his phone. On those nights, he wasn’t even truly safe at home, as he would hear scratching at his windows, only to find nothing there, and he thought he heard whispers warning him to stay away from Alice. It made him paranoid and afraid to walk alone when visiting her, and his mom twisted his experiences as being demonic in nature, a warning that he better not have any sinful thoughts about his friend...

It created some distance between Ian and Alice. They were still friends and still close, but he visited her house less often and felt more anxious about his romantic and spicy feelings towards her. This made it even harder for him to gather the courage to ask her out and try to go from friends to something more.

Which suited Joseph perfectly.

It was at least a year after that first encounter that Joseph arranged an ‘accidental’ first encounter with Alice in his human form while she was out and about in the city. Although she kept a greater distance from him as a human than she did as a “dog,” he managed to act cheerful and friendly enough to get her to lower her guard.

The time waiting to see Alice wasn’t spent idly. Joseph had been preparing for that “first” meeting with her, studying more about how to act than he ever did at school, though he did pull his grades up. He stopped acting out, ironically now trying not to attract anyone’s attention in his hometown, so that no one would realize he was sneaking off.

His pack might have hid among humans, but they kept their distance and felt humans were beneath them. They would never accept Joseph’s obsession with one, not unless he became the leader of the pack and changed the rules, or could earn the right to leave the pack, both of which would require him to battle and defeat the alpha.

It was an exhausting balancing act, but worth it to Joseph. He got stronger, pulled up his grades in school, and visited Alice whenever he could. They became friends, and got close enough they exchanged cell phone numbers. He was elated, and the more time he got to know her, the deeper he fell for her.

Joseph did intend to just befriend Alice, he really did, but when she gave him a hug while he was in his human form, he didn’t want to let her go. He wanted more.

He wanted her to be his mate for life.

You know, sometimes werewolf romances have mystical mate bonds, so let’s go with that. It’d be fitting since it’s similar to the connection between Jack and his sunshine in the main universe. Werewolves have one mate for life when they make the mark and all sorts of perks and all those fun tropes.

Joseph did his best to appeal to Alice, and he was thrilled the first time he caught scent of her interest in him - not Ian or someone else, but him! He nearly acted on it right there, but he knew her better by this point. She was shy, took things slowly, and when sneakily prying about her thoughts on romance, he found out that she’d only want to date someone she was friends with first.

Fine, fine, Joseph could wait. He had to take care of his pack’s potential interference anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to secure a good future too if he was going to start a family. Alice did admit she wanted a big family with a bunch of kids in the future, and he was quite happy to imagine having a whole litter of pups with her.

Joseph managed to defeat the alpha by the time he graduated high school. He could have taken over for the pack, but screw them all. He was free, more or less. He had a scholarship, he made sure to enroll in the same college Alice was attending, and he even managed to arrange it so that they would be staying in the same dorm. He wanted to be roommates with her, but the damn school decided that students of the same gender couldn’t stay on the same floor, let alone share a room.

Now that Joseph finally was free, he asked Alice out on the first day of classes, and she shyly accepted.

The fact that Ian just happened to be in earshot at the time really was a total coincidence. Really.

One date led to more, then a relationship. Joseph was the ideal boyfriend, kind, considerate, and very loving. Alice was wonderful to him as well, so cuddly and affectionate. She made him feel so loved and appreciated in a way no one else could.

Joseph swapped out his nicotine addiction for a caffeine addiction, but that was fine. Alice liked the smell of coffee, and although she didn’t really care to drink it, she didn’t mind the taste of it when he kissed her. After a while the smell of coffee would remind her of him, especially when they kissed.

Now that they had gotten this far, Joseph had to gently warm Alice up to the idea of werewolves. She enjoyed horror movies as well as gothic romances, so he had something to work with, getting familiar with some werewolf romance media to show her and talk to her about. It was so romantic how a human and a werewolf could make a relationship work despite all odds, wasn’t it?

Joseph would feel insecure when Alice made friends besides him, especially if he caught wind of any sort of attraction they had towards her. Shaun also had the annoying stink of cat on him. Joseph was quick to make it clear early on after meeting him who Alice wanted to be with, much to her embarrassment.

After all, she hadn’t been expecting Joseph to (gently) bite her neck while she was introducing Shaun and Joseph to one another.

“Joey!” Alice hissed breathlessly as she pushed Joseph back, her face cherry red. “Not here!”

Joseph chuckled, unrepentant as he admired the new mark he left behind on her skin along with the others that made it clear to everyone that Alice was his. “Sorry, sunshine, I just couldn’t resist.”

During a full moon, a werewolf’s instincts are much stronger, which made it that much harder for Joseph to hold back his urge to mate with Alice. He had to take it slowly with her, mindful of her comfort, but oh how she drove him so crazy sometimes. It seemed to get harder and harder to stop when she signaled an end to their make out sessions, but he would never, ever do anything she didn’t want, even if it left him with blue balls and with the urge to tear something apart in the woods to burn off the extra energy.

But all the waiting in the world is worth it for Alice, as far as Joseph is concerned, especially the night she finally, finally tells him that she loves him. He gently pried for it, not as forward or as confident as he would as Jack in the game, but he was absolutely just as giddy and relieved to hear it.

Needless to say, when Joseph reveals the truth about his werewolf nature to Alice, she’s very skeptical, thinking it’s a prank at first. He offers to prove it and shocks her when he manages to actually transform into a wolf, and a rather sizable one at that. Although intimidating and world changing, she quickly accepts this side of him, much to his delight.

Wolfy cuddles, petting, and tail wags follow... then Joseph reveals his hybrid form, with a human physique and wolf features. (It’s not too much different than Bo’s “feed me” form.)

It happens to be a full moon, and Joseph, high off of her love and acceptance of every side of him, gets very affectionate. Though intimidated and very nervous, Alice consents to going all the way with him for the first time. She marvels at how a big and dangerous werewolf like Joseph can be so gentle... and how many times he can keep going.

It was quite the learning experience for Alice. First she learned that her boyfriend was a werewolf, then just how big he is, and finally that she can handle someone of his size without pain with enough loving preparation beforehand. Joseph made sure to shower her with praise through the experience, especially when she managed to take his knot.

Needless to say, the two of them skip classes the next day. Joseph is only too happy to carry Alice around until she can walk properly again, much to her embarrassment.

The mate marking happens either during their first time or afterwards, but, in any case, Alice is consenting to it. After all, it means she and Joseph can be together forever. She’s never felt so happy and accepted before. How can she say no when he’s such a wonderful guy who loves her so much?

Sure, Joseph gets a bit territorial, and Alice always has kiss and bite marks that she can never quite hide when out in public, but that just shows how crazy he is about her. How can she not find it flattering?

Although Joseph’s size and werewolf nature can be intimidating, Alice isn’t afraid of him. How could she? He’s the sweetest, most gentle, friendly, and loving person she’s ever known. The idea that he could hurt anyone is completely absurd!

Joseph is the happiest he’s ever been in his life. He finally has his sunshine, and, someday, they’re going to have a nice home and a bunch of happy pups to call their own. As long as no one tries to get between them, everything will end happily ever after.

If they do, well... this wolf knows how to hunt.

[libertarian-druid-in-greater-vt]

So like, there's this awesome game with a fuckload of potential with servers named after Celtic and other pagan gods. It's called Pax Dei. It got review bombed so hard by players in early access, but it was a game that is still in development as early access games should be. Like, it currently sits as an mmo, with no currency whatsoever, but players still trade and value goods, resources, and materials differently enough to facilitate trade.

For example, I traded a bunch of tier 2 logs for a massive crate of beer.

It's incredibly grindy if you're a builder, smith, or basically any sort of tradesperson. As a result, the game remains somewhat pvp focused, especially with that being the best resource gathering area which holds the best magic items as well, which are items used to craft magical armor, weapons, etc, which allow you to cast magic or have magical properties. It's honestly confusing as hell if you go in blind, which is why I've stayed out of magic entirely which is why I'm an armorsmith (and have put 92 hours into a game that came out last month and only meeting my clan last week in a [currently] very clan driven game).

It's genuinely great without currency, and they're adding a (supposedly) hard currency in the coming updates. Supposedly silver, which is going to be limited in quantity with a very high starting spawn. So the combat experts that currently exist in game that gather together for pvp are going to make a mint facilitating trade between pvp zones, especially if they also hire out as guides for travelers without a pre-planned route. Clans typically consist of like 5-10 people (again, for like the 10th time, currently, I expect a whole fuckload to change as the game develops, like lore doesn't even really exist in game yet). I genuinely think this game is gonna outdo WoW in our lifetime as a gaming phenomenon if people legitimately give it a chance while keeping in mind that it's literally playable in development on UE5 and you're seeing a legitimately incomplete product.

I honestly don't care who all plays, currently, the server I'm at is at max pop, meaning no new characters can be put on it, yet. I just want the game to get fuckhuge, and the only way that's gonna happen is if it gets a lot of players. I can say this in earnest, don't look at what it is right now, look at what it is a week from when you start playing, a month, however long. When roleplay servers expand, which they very well may considering it was filled by people trying to get away from the survival servers because the rp servers are legitimately better since the roleplayers generally take pride in whatever craft they choose, and as a result get better at it faster since they're willing to trade for or gather buttloads of resources.

It's not free, but it's $40 for the base edition, which if you're not planning on leading a clan, is all you really need. Servers are likely to expand if they get the funding, and by that I mean grow in player count and number. If you are planning on leading a clan, then you'll need an additional $50, because you'll want the extra plots and maybe the additional furniture and structures (which are purely decorative). Admittedly, I'm not a huge fan of pay to win features, and this would seem like one, if the build height limit wasn't crazy tall and the height of most practical crafting stuff wasn't usually pretty short. It's vanity and expansionism only, but everyone gets a plot, from which you can use it to expand your clan's land, or for a little home, or a shop even, or really, whatever, maybe a combination of them. I used two of mine to build a temple and one for a watchtower/kitchen/brewry/tiny forge/charcoal kiln. And it's only up to the third floor in a 4x3 floor area.

Seriously, it's awesome as long as you're not trying to play up some high fantasy stuff and can be and act like a human. There's plans for map wipes during development, which may reset characters for all I know, on top of that, their alpha only had one server per available region, and that went up to (I believe but don't feel like checking for an already too long game review) 6. Most players have 1-2 characters, and as a result, the rp and survival communities are kind of intertwined, but not really. I have one character I play. I've only played the game for about a week with any sort of effort or real daily time to speak of, and I've unwittingly put 92 hours into it. When I say it's a legitimately good game that got shit tier early reviews from some idiots that didn't understand what early access is supposed to be and when it's being used as it's intended, I mean it. The grindyness of it has been significantly reduced in the last couple weeks, and the game came out last month. The stack sizes of a lot of items went up this week. It's legitimately being worked on regularly, with patches coming up regularly and big ones coming up occasionally. Like I said earlier, there's expansions planned that add massive, literally game changing, features. Honestly, the devs are likely going to reorganize the server layouts to favor roleplayers more than survival gamers because it's working itself out to be a top tier mmorpg.

Get in early, figure the game out, and if characters aren't deleted ever, maybe even get yourself maxxed out in everything and be massively OP when it exits early access. I legitimately feel like it's going to be a hit if people review it with the knowledge it's legitimately using the term early access properly, while already being awesome.

[bunny-lovers]

flying and water for the pokemon ask game? :]

- @tired-and-touchstarved

Hope you & your f/os have a great day & thank you for the ask! 😊 @xxmellochii @emperorfrieza @speedstershipping @kaijus-love-zone @sheepie-self-ships

[Normal]: Do you and your f/o have any pets together? If not, do you want any?

No, we don't have any pets. We have been talking about getting a cat together.

[Fire]: Who’s the better chef between you and your f/o? Do you ever cook together? If so, what’s your favorite dish to make?

Hmm. . . I'd say I am! Yes, we both love to cook together. My favorite dish to make is salmon & asparagus with garlic lemon butter sauce.

[Water]: What does a beach day with your f/o look like? Do you go swimming or check out the boardwalk?

Lots of fun, we really enjoy going to the beach together. We do go swimming, play volleyball, walk on the beach, get some tan, & watch the waves.

[Grass]: You’re going on a picnic with your f/o! What are you packing for the trip and what does the scenery look like?

We would pack chicken salad sandwiches, watermelon, corn salad, & bottles of water. The scenery has a nice breeze on a cloudy day.

[Electric]: When did you realize that you were in love with your f/o? When did they realize that they were in love with you?

It was immediately after she saved me from the villain. I had a huge crush on Rumi & couldn't take her off of my mind. For Rumi, it was when she met me at the coffee café in person. She fell in love with me while I was talking about myself.

[Ice]: It’s starting to snow! What do you and your f/o plan on doing? Do you go sledding? Build a snowman? Or do you guys stay inside to keep warm?

We mostly stay indoors but we sometimes go outside to build a snowman, make snow angels & go for a stroll.

[Flying]: If you and your f/o had wings, what did they look like? If your f/o already has wings: describe them! Do they let you touch them?

It would be dark purple feather wings.

[Poison]: Who’s the better caretaker in your relationship and how do you help each other when one of you is sick?

I am! We always make each other soup, a glass of water, & get a plenty of rest.

[Ground]: What’s your favorite outdoor activity? What about your f/o’s?

My favorite outdoor activity is walking & Rumi's favorite outdoor activity is rock climbing.

[Psychic]: Is your f/o good at reading your mood and/or helping you feel better? What about vice versa?

Oh yeah, she is & I am as well.

[Bug]: How do you comfort one another when you get scared? Is there any teasing involved?

Rumi comforts me by holding me in her arms or holding my hand & uses her words. I comfort Rumi by holding her in my arms & use my words of comfort. Yes, we do sometimes tease each other.

[Rock]: What kinds of gifts do you get each other for your anniversaries/birthdays/etc?

We give each other flowers, cookbooks, clothing, fitness accessories, any sweets, jewelries & plushies.

[Ghost]: Has your f/o ever helped you get over a fear? Have they ever pushed you out of your comfort zone?

Yes, she has helped me have the courage to do stuff that I couldn't do before I met her. No, she wouldn't pushed me out of my comfort zone.

[Dragon]: Does your f/o have a kryptonite? Does your s/i know about it? What about vice versa?

No, neither of us have a kryptonite.

[Dark]: Who is more protective of the other? Give us an example of a time one of you protected the other.

Definitely Rumi! It was when I was getting out of the grocery store when a villain was heading to my direction. When the villain was almost near me, Rumi stepped in & kicked the villain. Rumi came by me, holding me & asking me if I was okay. I told her I was okay & thank her for saving me with a smile.

[Fairy]: What kinds of AUs do you imagine you and your f/o in? Are any inspired by classic fairytales?

Summer AU, Grocery Store AU, Superpowers AU, & Pokemon AU. No, there isn't any inspired by classic fairytales.

[baphomets-hairy-bonkhonagahoogs]

Hey! Dunno how to format this, but I got tagged by @femboty2k for a thing!

Femboty said

"now the tag game was to introduce yourself with:

one tv show

one movie

one album

one video game

I, however, liked that they did two and I am ALSO cute and get to do whatever I want so im gonna do two, too."

So thats what I'm gonna do too because that's fun and I ALSO get to do whatever I want <3

TV SHOWS: Steven Universe (+the Movie & SU:Future) and Samurai Jack!

These two are all time favorites of mine and have been (and continue to be) super inspirational as a visual artist and storyteller! Not to mention that they are so fun and easy to put on and have fun with! They're def two of my biggest comfort shows. Honorable mention to runner ups She-Ra & the Princesses of Power, Gravity Falls, Craig of the Creek, ATLA, and Columbo!

MOVIES: One Hour Photo and Ringu!

Oh boy! This was a harder choice than the two shows, but not by too much. An honorable mention to runner ups Scream (1996), Everything Everywhere All at once, Ginger Snaps, Re-Animator, Bride of Re-Animator, Good Will Hunting, and Dead Poets Society. I really, truly don't know exactly why these two are my favorites above all the rest, but they are. They both hold a really fond place in my heart <3 BTW I prefer The Japanese Ringu over the American The Ring, despite them both being good. I just like the style and pacing of the Japanese one more. I always get super excited when I see Sadako pop up anywhere! I love her in DBD. One Hour Photo has an incredible and underrated performance by Robin Williams, one of my favorite actors, in a role very different than the ones he's most famous for. I love how creepy and almost dream-like the movie is!

ALBUMS: Meliora and Switched-On Bach

These two albums are really significant to me, enough that I own both physically! Ghost is one of my favorite bands ever from the theatrics and story to the music itself. I found Ghost through Meliora, and in my heart Papa Emeritus III will always be my first and fav papa~<3 Switched-On Bach (and Switched-On Bach 2) are beautiful pieces by Wendy Carlos. I know Wendy wants to be defined by her music and not her trans identity, I completely understand that, but whenever I listen to Switched-On Bach I get emotional about the fact that trans people like me have always been here making incredible art for themselves and each other<3 plus I love Moog music, its so fun! Honorable mention to runner ups Transgender Dysphoria Blues, anything by Garbage, anything by Abandoned Pools, and the rest of Ghost's discography post Meliora!

Games: Payday 2 and Team Fortress 2

These two are games I don't really play much anymore, but I once played them RELIGIOUSLY. Day in and day out these two sequels were my entire LIFE for a long time. Countless hours of fun, challenge, and playing dress up! Stylistically, they are both influential to me as well! Honorable mention for runners up Portal, Portal 2, Left 4 Dead 2, Plants vs Zombies, DBD, Undertale, Deltarune, Borderlands 2, and Bejeweled 3!

My close Tumblr friends don't like being tagged in stuff like this, but I encourage anyone who sees this to do it if they want!

have a wonderful day!!!!!

[gio-dude]

any more thoughts on paper mario so far?

I LOVED it honestly and the only reason I'm not playing TTYD is because I'm waiting for my new pc to get fixed cus my laptop is 🥔

Not as much as I did at the start, unfortunately. I've done a few more posts in different formats, but after the prologue and chapter one it's been a game and the humors been there but not quite as funny as that first chunk for me. Like, the attention to detail is absolutely INSANE throughout the whole game so far (the hidden spots, the funny npc dialogue, the dizzy eye animation, the text effects when people are speaking to show emotion and emphasis, etc), and some of the clues and stuff have been really well done where it guides you, sometimes by even straight up telling you what to do, but only if you like talk and interact with everyone and it sounds like gossip. I love how much world building they put into it, and like all of your companions get letters, so like Kooper is going to join Kolorado in an archeology adventure after helping mario, bombette is going to help cut the ribbon for a new train station since she cleared the tracks of the toad town one, they all have really cool stories for AFTER the game, which I really love and appreciate since I don't remember that from TTYD.

But yeah PM 64 has had solid characters and great world building and I am baffled at how complex and absolutely massive it feels to me for its time (I mainly played the pokemon stadium [1 & 2] mini games and kirby 64 shards and the OG ssb for comparison/context, and like kirby felt big but the open world of mario and the dynamic background where things change each chapter and characters reacting differently based off what degree of fighter you are make it feel massive) (also the timing of enemies for blocking and command attacks feels like each one would need its own code for, and there have been a lot of enemies and I'm only on chapter 3!)

It's been very interesting playing PM 64 after TTYD, since TTYD had a LOT of polish which, I hadn't realized, made it incredible. And like I watched a video or read an article ages ago about other games like the first two paper mario games and the mario and luigi series (both series, best games) and it was talking about how TTYD took a LOT of inspiration from PM 64, almost to the extent of copy+pasting, like "you did a train mystery in the first game and so let's do another train mystery" and "you get a smart Goomba, a small town koopa, a bomb-omb with character, and a ghost as a companion, so let's do that all again". And it's true (I haven't gotten to the train bit yet but I know it exists since there is a PENGUIN detective and we love penguins), but like all of the characters in TTYD had WAAAAAY more character and although both games' companions are charming, the added character design in TTYD was great.

Final thoughts are for both the paper mario and the mario and luigi series as a whole and their successors, both spiritually and literally.

As for the literal successors of PM and M&L, M&L has stayed true to its nature and although the stories are different and the abilities raise the stakes unnecessarily in my opinion, they still play like M&L games. PM on the other hand...

I feel like the bowser sections in TTYD directly influenced mario and luigi: browsers inside story, which was spectacular and probably the strongest in that series (partners in time will always hold a special place in my heart and I love it. Super stars was okay, the story was amazing but the fighting felt more tedious than the later games. Dreamy luigi was alright, I wasn't a fan of the new art style [that all the remakes, unfortunately, decided to continue to use] I don't think I ever beat it since it never hooked me in the same way. And I've seen NO ONE talk about that one cross over with paper mario, so I know nothing of that one.)

Paper mario and M&L are like my favorite games since I like that you still interact in battles even when it's not your turn. I hate JRPGs with a passion since I would literally rather play around in excel sheets all day (which I get paid to do) than click the same buttons over and over again without thought and then have to wait for the enemy animation when it could all just be text and skipped and be done with.

These games add the element of skill, albeit a pretty small element that can be boring and tedious and repetitive too, but it adds engagement for the entire time you are battling and battles are directly and immediately impacted by your skill, as compared to mainly "strategy" (pick the strongest move) in JRPGs. I care about getting each action command and each block in PM, my skill directly influences the outcome of the battle compared to sheer luck (there's a little luck with like status effects but that isnt the same as variable damge based on luck). If I'm playing a game I want to be engaged with it the whole time, not constantly mashing A while checking my phone since I'm spamming the same attack agaim since there is nothing else to do (glares at pokemon).

I feel like undertale was a spiritual successor to these games based on the bullet hell dodging in combat and the timing of attacks. The dodging was actually way more engaging and difficult in undertale than in PM and M&L and I think that was a large part of its success. I'm really surprised so few games have taken this approach to the rpg formula, of making the whole battle actually engaging, but there are a lot in development!

One that's out already is bug fables and if you have not checked that one out PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE CHECK IT OUT! It's glorious and the best successor to TTYD I've ever seen. There's also born of bread of which I've heard mixed results on and haven't check out myself yet, and there's also a sea horse one in development still also I had checked. There's also "OTHER:her loving embrace" which takes a more similar approach to combat as undertale but instead of bullet hell dodging it's a seconds long mini platformer where you have to run around dodging and you can even counter attack and it looks like everything I've ever wanted from a game and I am INCREDIBLY excited for that one. I'd also be down for a bug fables 2.

Now, disclaimer, I haven't actually played any other paper mario games than 64 and TTYD since they have all sounded awful. Sticker star had all moves be dictated by one time use stickers so your combat move options were constantly changing and combat seemed slow and not engaging (like a usual turn based jrpg) since I think it was just the stickers gimmick the whole time? 64 had some funny paper gimmicks, and TTYD really stepped up its paper inspired mechanics, what with the mario curses (airplane, tube, boat, etc.) And like busty genie's blowing ability, and then the one paper mario for the wii (super paper mario? I'm not willing to look it up) seemed to build more upon that with being able to like turn the world sideways and stuff, which makes for a cool puzzle game but I don't know anything about the combat that I can remember- that's how unmemorable it was despite looking into it multiple times because not enough of these types of games exist. I've heard nothing of the PM x M&L crossover as I've said above, and from what I heard about origami King the story was cute but a little shallow and the combat got switched up YET A-FUCKING-GAIN. It seemed liked an interesting combat system, but it sounded like it got extra tedious really fast since I think it involved having to draw a path through enemies that surround you in a circle and again, seemed cool but it wasn't paper mario. I once played a cooperative star trek board game that seemed to have similar mechanics, and like, as a combat system I could see it being really cool, but just not good for paper mario which has refuses to go back to what made 64 and TTYD so successful and charming and wacky, since Nintendo wants M&L to be the big rpg mario line games, which like... GIVE US BOTH.

So, yeah! Thank you so much for giving me an excuse and outlet to ramble and get all my thoughts out, it may be a bit more than you bargained for but you asked for thoughts! And paper mario was vague so I couldn't tell if you meant the 64 game specifically or the whole series, so you get the whole series!

Although I have this typed out on the 23, it's nearly 11 pm and I have work in the morning and I want to go through and edit this since I am notorious for having awful spelling and skipping whole words when I'm thinking anything quickly and I want to make sure this all looks and sounds good and at least has some coherence with the order it covers topics so thou must be patient.

[sagemonsters]

@imma-write-stuff has a blind date with...

Bianca the Ghost

Bianca is a petite and very femme ghost who appears as a monochromatic, translucent woman wearing a sundress. The hem of her dress flutters in a wind that the living cannot feel, and the edges of her form flicker very gently. She has long, curly hair and kind eyes.

Bianca isn’t sad about the fact that she’s dead, and is a very cheerful soul who always has a message of support and comfort ready. She’s your number one cheerleader and is always proud of your accomplishments and anything you create. 

She’s a techie! Although she’s a ghost and can’t access most things in the physical world, Bianca has a way of getting computer code of various kinds to listen to her desires, and likes modding video games and finding ways around paywalls. You never have to pay for a streaming service with Bianca’s help.

Bianca likes to hang out with you while you crochet or do art, and is always happy to model for your artwork. She loves seeing how your skill grows over time as you get more and more practice with your chosen crafts.

Bianca is rather shy around new people, and tends to turn invisible whenever she gets flustered and nervous. She is trying to be more gregarious and meet new friends, however, and wants to travel the world with you one day.

“That’s very pretty,” a feminine voice says by your elbow. “You’re an amazing artist.”

You look up from your sketchbook and glance around the café, but don’t see anyone nearby. You take a sip of your drink and nibble the pastry you bought, still looking around, but the speaker doesn’t present herself.

“Oh, wait, you can’t see me. I’m so sorry, let me just…”

Your eyes widen as an attractive, translucent woman appears in front of you. She grins mischievously and holds up a finger to her lips to signal for quiet. “Nobody can see or hear me right now except you,” she promises. “I don’t want to cause a panic, after all.”

A child carrying a glass of lemonade moves through the translucent woman in front of your table, and the woman sniffs in annoyance at the intrusion. 

“Anyway, I’m Bianca,” she says. 

Not wanting to be seen talking to seemingly empty air, you write your name in a corner of your sketchbook and add a little smiley face next to it. The ghost smiles at the cute gesture. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve appeared before a living person,” Bianca says. “Is it okay if I watch you draw?”

Sure! you write next to your name, and Bianca smiles and moves to peer over your shoulder. As she does so, the song playing in your earbuds grinds to a halt as an ad begins to play. Bianca rolls her eyes and taps your phone with a translucent finger. The screen doesn’t change at all, but the music immediately resumes.

“I despise the audacity of these streaming services,” Bianca says. “Anyway, I upgraded your subscription to the premium plan without charging you. I hope you enjoy it.”

Thank you so much, you write.

“Don’t worry about it,” BIanca says with a grin. “I love being a patron of the arts. Can you tell me what inspired you to make this piece?”

You happily begin writing about your latest sketch, and Bianca eagerly reads every word.

see here to get your own blind date with a monster!