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#//She likes how easily she can pull back any time; likes feeling like the protector almost

teddybeartoji · 3 months

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"I HUNGER TO COMMIT THE ACT OF TOUCH" HEADCANONS

here are some facts about prince!gojo and knight!reader and sugu and shoko!!!! some of these might've been mentioned in the previous parts but i just wanted to go over them anyway!! also some of these are very random but they feel right so i needed to add them hihihi enjoyy!!

+ the "i hunger to commit the act of touch" masterlist

`♡、THE PRINCE

— a sensitive, sensitive boy; cries easily.

— touch starved out of his mind; his mother kisses his forehead and his cheek and suguru's arms more often than not falls around the prince's shoulders but he needs more.

— very curious; he loves going outside, he loves people staring, he loves learning (dislikes reading though bc that can be a bit boring).

— hates staying inside the castle; has escaped into the forest behind the estate many-many times (usually suguru is the one to bring him back).

— gets cold easily.

— his eyes are also sensitive - the reason why he has to wear a blindfold; he doesn't like it though. so he often goes out into the blinding sun without it and later bares the terrible migraines because of it. he says it's worth it.

— hates his father but adores his mother.

— is actually very devoted to becoming a good king; he loves the town and the people a lot and he wants to take care of them.

— he loves all of the kids in the town aswell; they play ball and have tea-parties together.

— he loves hot cocoa.

— he has brought in a lot of stray cats; they all run around the castle freely and the king hates it (the prince doesn't care).

— the maids and the servants of the castle absolutely love him!!! he takes good care of them!!!! treats them like family and loves joking around with them.

— once fell down some stairs and just laughed it off.

— he's really good with a sword and he likes to fight!! he often spars with suguru and he just thinks it's so exciting and fun.

— he has known suguru almost all his life and he cares for him very deeply (the feeling is mutual).

— the prince has only been taught soft touches all his life so he kind of seeks out action and violence to feel something New.

— also loves shoko a lot a lot a lot. he thinks that she's just so cool and their humor is very similar which sometimes pisses suguru off. which in turn just makes them laugh even more. it's a vicious cycle.

— is absolutely enamored with the knight. they're the fresh breath of air that he's been missing from his royal life and he's determined to keep them in it forever.

— does know how to speak like a proper prince but thinks it's very funny to swear and make dirty jokes.

— despises the smell of alcohol.

— gets attached rather easily. they can't get the knight out of his head for the life of him (he isn't even trying).

— loves flowers of any and every kind; buys them regurarly for his friends and his mother.

— he, of course, has a snow white horse (his name is John?).

— is terribly terribly eager to please. he just wants to be good.

— would gladly get into a real fight just for the thrill of it.

`♡、THE KNIGHT

— rough and scarred hands.

— they used to live in the same town but moved away when they were twelve.

— they know shoko; she was their best friend until they left.

— used to get slashings and beatings from the castle guards because they were hell-bent on taking the blame for just about every other stray kid in the town. they were just trying to protect them...

— just as touch starved as the prince but unlike the latter - they're more afraid to seek it out. let me rephrase - they don't seek it out, quite the opposite - they're more likely to pull away at genuine touch than to accept it.

— but as a protector, it is part of their job to offer their hand to people. a helping hand to pull the prince back onto his feet, a helping hand to wipe the blood from his face, a helping hand to get him onto the horse, a helping hand to keep him from falling - it's just what they're supposed to do. they also need more - just like the prince.

— they're determined that they're scary and that everybody should stay away from their bloody hands and their scarred face (they're wrong).

— confused about their feelings; only being familiar with anger and bitterness - everything else comes as a complete surprise.

— a brutal fighter - blood and guts are nothing new to them. nor are beheadings and dismemberment, slit throats and bashing in faces. if that's what it takes to save a person - they'll do it without a second thought.

— very very good with a sword. they've been carrying that thing around for years now and it feels a bit weird to be without it.

— despite the way they act towards the prince - they do think he's gonna be a great king. they're mostly just jealous.

— loyal to the Cause even though they don't even exactly know what the cause it. is it protecting people? is it running away from them? is it just violence?

— they act tough as shit but inside they just want to be held. well, first they want to get over the fear of being held.

— they can't wait to see shoko again. they might be a bit nervous but ever since seeing the doctor and hearing that she's in fact well and is now living in the castle??? they can't wait to see her little smile.

— they want to hate the prince. but they can't (they're not even trying).

— a big scar running across their eye. it makes them look badass. and hot.

— the armor they wear is a bit rusted but good nonetheless. it has carvings on the front and the back.

— clearly has some sort of authority issues.

— cats really like them. they always come up to them in the town, swirling around between their legs and purring. they always smile back at the kitties.

— loves eating bread.

— picks at their scabs and wounds all the time; shoko always slapped their fingers when she saw them doing it bc that is a really fucking bad thing to do especially with dirty hands... they can't help it though.

— is surprisingly (it's not surprising at all) popular with the brothel ladies. they always seem to try and invite them in and it's one of the few things that actually manages to fluster the knight.

— thinks that the prince acts like a child, like a puppy and no matter how much they try to convince themself that they think he's annoying - it just doesn't work. the prince is the only one who's gotten a smile that big out them anyway.

`♡、SUGURU

— the prince took him in when he was just a kid; convinced the queen that suguru should stay and well who is the queen to say no to her little prince - they've been inseperable ever since.

— trained to be a knight so he can take care of his best friend.

— cares for the prince a lot A Lot (probably a little bit too much).

— the prince and suguru fooled around when they were younger and they got caught once; the prince managed to sway the king with the argument that he was the one who made suguru do it - suguru felt very bad after that incident and tried to distance himself from the prince but it didn't work. the prince was clinging to him like his life depended on it and soon after that everything was almost back to the way it was before.

— very good friends with shoko; they often sit in the tavern together after a long day.

— has a sensitive nose and the prince likes to tease him about it.

— likes sparring with the prince - he's stronger and better but he lets the prince win sometimes because he likes his smile.

— when he does decide to keep his win - straddling the prince while holding the sword to his throat - his own smile shines so bright that the prince thinks he's gonna get a migraine just from that.

— massages the prince's face whenever he has a migraine. his hands are almost magical, he's too good at it.

— all of the cats that the prince has brought in fucking love him.

— he also lives in the castle!!! he has his own room and it's very close to the prince's one. you know.. for safety reasons.

— loves drinking tea.

— sometimes shares a few smokes with shoko but he keeps glancing over his shoulder to make sure that the castle people or the other knights can't see him. the prince always sighs very dramatically when they smoke.

— knows all of the prince's hiding spots in the forest.

— the three of them have gone skinny dipping together (the prince screamed like a little girl when a piece of kelp touched his leg).

— even though he is a knight of the castle, he - just like the others, is not a fan of the king or his ways. they all think that he's a cruel old man and they're all ready to help the prince become a better king.

— he understands the knight like nobody else.

— gets along with the queen really really well and shoko constantly teases him about it by saying that she has a teeny tiny crush on him. suguru always gets flustered by that (he's just very well-mannered okay).

— accidentally once heard the king say that he should cut his hair ("it's not suitable for a knight") and is now more than ever determined to never cut it.

— has a black horse and takes really good care of it!!!!

— likes to read whenever he has a free moment. which isn't too often, so he usually reads during the night in the moonlight.

`♡、SHOKO

— childhood friends with the knight; neither of them had a home and had to take care of each other.

— a doctor took her in and began teaching her so she'd become her apprentice.

— always patched the young knight up after a fight or a beating.

— she was very upset when the knight left.

— around the age of 16/17, a prince with a bloody knee and a teary eyed little soon-to-be-knight knocked on the doctors door - they made her put bandages on his knee and they've been friends ever since.

— now lives in the castle; the prince got her her own room with a little balcony. they all often eat breakfast together there.

— learned how to use a bow just for the fun of it.

— braids the prince's hair when she's bored.

— the cats also love her. there's one that always sleeps in her room and on her bed. she named the cat Horse (suguru has never rolled his eyes so dramatically).

— she misses her childhood friend terribly; she thinks about them a lot.

— mainly lives a very quiet life and doesn't really interact with the other people in the castle. she also fucking hates the king.

— has a big scar on her lower back from her days on the streets. it was the one time where the knight had to patch her up, hence the "ugly" scar. she doesn't think it's ugly though, she quite likes it actually. she flexes it to the prince, calling herself a tougher guy than him. the prince pouts at that every time.

— the only other person she talks to in the castle is one of the maids. she has a scar across her face and shoko thinks she looks beautiful. shoko also thinks it's very funny when she cusses out the prince. shoko likes to play with her hair.

— is surprisingly bad at riding horses. she tried it twice and fucking hated it so she never did it again.

— works at the doctor's office. not full-time because she likes to just Be but she is very interested in blood and guts and wounds so she genuinely loves the job.

— used to be a regular at the brothel but ever since she met the scarred pretty little maid - she hasn't stepped a foot back in there.

#yayayay ihtctaot crumbs!!!!#i am very very sorry to keep all of you waiting for so long..#but i am working on the next part!!#hey guys.. are my daddy issues showing by any chance btw i can't tell #ihtctaot #mickey is daydreaming #angel boy #sugu #shoko #gojo satoru #gojo satoru headcanons #jjk headcanons

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markantonys · 7 months

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a little part of me wonders whether egwene's trauma from being made damane will manifest itself in hostility towards nynaeve. nynaeve promised in s2ep1 not to leave her, and yet one might argue nynaeve's block on her powers led to egwene's capture - nynaeve would have been powerful enough to take out the seanchan and buy them some time to escape. on the flip side, nynaeve and egwene's relationship might become strained due to nynaeve's guilt over not being able to use the one power. she already looked upset at not being able to heal rand, so when she sees just what was done to egwene, she might start blaming herself. of course this could also give her stronger motivation for her s3 arc, which might be dealing with that block on her powers. just wondering what your take it because i really love their friendship and while i hope it continues i feel like what happened in s2 set the stage for some serious angst between them

ooh this is an interesting thought!! i could definitely see this happening. i keep seeing readers complain that the show making egwene free herself from the collar (in the books nynaeve and elayne free her) has "wrecked" her arc because it taught her that she can get out of any situation by herself...............but i'm pretty sure that's going to be The Point? like, i can easily imagine that egwene has "learned" that she must only rely on herself always in every situation, and maybe she might pull away from her friends as a result and not let them help her, or even grow resentful of them and basically go "you weren't there when i needed you and i got out of it all on my own, so guess what, i'm never going to need you again"

(and i know you haven't read the books, so never fear, none of what i've said is an actual book spoiler! i'm just doing pure speculation here based on what we've seen in s2, especially since the manner in which she escaped was so different in the show than in the books so Who Knows how that might affect her post-trauma reactions? but it IS generally in character for book!egwene to feel like she has to do everything herself - which we've seen in the show too, like how she feels she personally is to blame for rand's "death" because she personally wasn't strong enough to go with him to the eye and save him - so my only point there is that i'm puzzled by the readers who think that her basically getting Validation of the idea that she can & must do everything herself will interfere with her book characterization. in my view it will do the opposite!)

anyway, back to egwene & nynaeve! i'm also thinking about her line to elayne of "she said she came here to protect me, but where is she when i actually need her?" which nynaeve overheard. maybe egwene will feel this way again in the wake of her capture and resent nynaeve, or maybe not; at the very least, i'm sure that her saying "do something!" to nynaeve during the initial capture scene, nynaeve not being able to, and egwene eventually getting out of the situation by herself will make egwene not see nynaeve so much as a mentor/protector anymore and make her feel she's "outgrown" her! and i definitely think NYNAEVE will be haunted by that line of egwene's that she overheard, and feel like she failed egwene just like you said, because she thinks that she wasn't there for egwene when egwene actually needed her. and doubly so because she arrived too late to rescue egwene and egwene had already gotten out without her help, AND nynaeve wasn't able to help elayne or rand in the way she wanted - so she is definitely going to be going into s3 feeling like a huge failure and like she needs to work twice as hard as she already does to protect her kids, poor baby!

#fidelias #answered #wot show spoilers

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thelampisaflashlight · 1 year

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Talk

[Mist, Alpha, and Omega have a conversation. It does not go well.] Below the cut.

“Permit me to speak freely, Nymphaea... but that hybrid is making you soft.” Alpha huffs, “Is it because he reminds you of that brat you left behind-”

“It’s because he IS the brat I left behind.” Mist hisses, clenching her fists at her sides, “He’s...”

Alpha’s eyes widen, and then he laughs.

A cruel, harsh bark of a laugh.

“No shit?” he scoffs, “The little piss stain you used to coddle, the one you talked about as if he were your own kit... he managed to survive down there without his protector?”

“Shut up.”

“No, but really? Really~?” Alpha goads, circling Mist predatorially, “How do you think he fared in the pit after you left him?”

“Alpha, I swear-”

“What? Oh. Ohh~ I see.”

Mist swings at him.

“In the pit, you could play big sister and feel better about your own situation because he had it worse... or did you prefer to play the part of Mommy, hn~?” Alpha catches her wrist before she can strike him, “Now that he’s topside and has more friends, you can’t control him as easily, is that it? He doesn’t need you, he thinks he does, but you know the truth.”

“That you need him now more than he needs you.”

Mist slams her heel into Alpha’s thigh and pulls her arm out of his grasp.

“Like it’s any different with you and Ifrit!” Mist bites out.

Alpha laughs again, this time sounding genuinely pleased.

“Ifrit isn’t going to replace me some day.” he snorts, “That ship has sailed. He doesn’t want the position, they’ll have to summon someone else... waste church resources, again, on a useless piece of trash that can’t possibly compare to my skills.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” a low voice drawls.

Omega looms in the doorway, glancing between the two squabbling ghouls.

“Your replacement is already here.” he says, staring down at Alpha, who shrinks back instinctively with a low growl.

“There’s not another fire ghoul in the abbey’s walls aside from Ifrit, and that whelp already declined the contract.” he furrows his brow, realizing, “You cannot be serious.”

“I am.”

Mist shivers.

“No! No, no!” she shrieks, grabbing Omega’s sleeve, “He’s not- He is MY successor!”

“Not anymore.” Omega replies coolly, “They don’t have the resources to summon a new fire ghoul, not with so many eyes on us now...”

He steps towards Alpha.

“It’s true, we can’t waste resources again, but...” he leans in closer, his breath hot on the ghoul’s ear, “...We can do with throwing away some trash.”

“You-”

Omega stands to his full height.

“Like it or not, we’re all being replaced one way or another.” he sighs, “Ifrit is smart to leave now while he has the opportunity to bargain for his freedom here on the surface... and I’ll be leaving soon as well. I’ve already made the arrangements with the church...”

“You’re just going to leave?” Mist gapes, “We’re a pack, a family-”

“That’s why I’m leaving...” Omega smiles somberly, “I can’t watch us fall apart like this... It’s time for a new generation to take the reigns, and... I can already feel a disquiet among the clergy. Wheels are being set in motion, and I have decided I no longer wish to be apart of it.”

“You’re a coward.” Alpha growls.

“Maybe so.”

“But better to run with my tail tucked between my legs and be known as a coward, then be a dead fool.”

#Lamp writes #nameless ghouls #mist ghoulette #alpha ghoul #omega ghoul #ghost band #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band fanfic

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kadavernagh · 5 months

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Brokenspine Hill || Regan & Jade

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Eternal Light Cemetery PARTIES: Jade and Regan SUMMARY: Begrudgingly, Jade agrees to show Regan these vampires she goes to out to slay. She slays. CONTENT: It gets spicy, surprise. Happy holidays!

After an agonizingly long car ride through switchbacks and mountain passes, Regan trying to keep her focus on the road as much as possible and almost losing that battle, she and Jade finally made it, and the ornate, elegant gates of Eternal Light Cemetery stood tall in front of them. It felt like a reward for the trek here, and for not accidentally driving the car right off the mountain just so she could see batting eyelashes. Blue mist seeped from between the vertical barring like long fingers beckoning them in, and mushrooms were dotted around the gate. Her belly swam with the death of it all, or maybe that was something else. Regan turned to Jade, expecting her to be a lot further away than she actually was. Oh. Her breath snagged. Again. How many times was that? “I’ve, uh, never been up here, you know. Probably the only cemetery in town I haven’t visited. It’s…” The word lingered on her tongue as she looked at Jade, and she decided to speak it after a moment’s hesitation. “It’s beautiful. Shining like moonlight on fresh viscera.”

She was going to see Jade’s “vampires”. And in her bones and in her heart, she wanted Jade to be right – wanted them to be monsters. Not human. Not people. Not Metzli. And not cadavers. Creatures she could kill that wouldn’t make Regan fly into a frenzy about homicide. Jade wanted to be a protector, not a killer. Regan wanted that for her too. She wasn’t sure why. She wasn’t sure why she cared enough to do any of this. She could try to convince herself it wasn’t about Jade at all, that she just needed to see these “undead,” understand what they really were, and continue on with her life – all two months or so of it before she was dragged back in front of her grandmother and her life would practically start anew again anyway. But Jade, not knowledge, was at the center of this.

As they tracked through the gates, it was not the “vampires” she was thinking about.

Winter winds mixed with mountain air and the cold made her flesh prickle. Or maybe that was the blanket of death over the cemetery, with little but the glow of mushrooms and twinkling of fireflies able to shine through it. And Jade, glowing in her own right. Every once in a while, the mushrooms caught the glint in her eyes or the sheen of her hair and made her look almost ethereal. But Regan kept her admiration close to the chest, stealing glances that could have just as easily been admiration for the mushrooms. Not obvious at all. Hopefully the blue glow would counteract however inflamed her cheeks were.

“How does this work?” Regan tilted her head, and death wrapped itself around her, practically stroked her cheek. “Can you feel it? The death. Does it pull you toward it, show you where to go?” Her eyes were wide with curiosity and more excitement than she’d allowed herself in some time. Jade obviously wasn’t thrilled about the purpose of their outing, but Regan thought she might jump at the opportunity to teach, to show off, potentially.

How exactly did she want the night to go? To quote one of the greatest poets of their generation: She was indecisive. She couldn’t decide. (Sean Kingston, a lyrical genius. Misunderstood like all the greats) (Herself included). It would be ridiculous to pretend Jade didn’t love a good ‘I told you so’ moment. Please, it was one of her favorite feelings in the world. And to do it to Regan? Yup. She didn’t care how childish it sounded, she loved being right. Well, she knew she would be, of course. Vampires flocked to cemeteries like girls flocked to Claire’s to get their ears pierced back in the day (or still did? She wasn’t sure). They would find something without fail.

So why was it then, that she was clenching her jaw and grinding her teeth like a divorced middle-aged father of three working inhumane hours at two jobs just to afford his kid's braces? She was like, one second away from pulling out a cigarette she didn’t have to begin with. No joke. And… fine. Maybe, maybe she could handle… being wrong (this once). She could handle looking like a crazy person if vampires didn’t show up. Cause being wrong meant Regan was safe. And Jade was really digging the idea of keeping her safe over being right. (A momentary lapse, surely). In the end, it wasn’t her choice one way or the other. Vampires would be there or they wouldn’t, and what Jade felt about it didn’t matter (it hardly ever did).

She decided to engage with whatever was bubbling inside her while they were in the car, going up the mountain. She intended on getting it out of her system before they reached the top and she had to be what she was trained to be. She couldn’t be the girl who made mistakes this time. Top of her game only, or Regan could pay the price. Speaking of Regan, boy was she a lousy driver, by the way. Jade was a little concerned about the amount of fleeting glances she kept throwing her way. Did she… not drive often? Did she need advice or something? Like, she almost considered asking if she wanted to swap seats at some point, but nope… she kept quiet, wringing her hands a little more as she took in the scenery. They couldn’t start bickering now. Which she was certain they would, if she brought up her poor driving skills. (She was totally teasing her about it after, though).

After one last painful curve, they arrived at the gates of Eternal Light. There was a good reason Jade had chosen this place and unfortunately, it had nothing to do with how romantic the stroll was. Not this time, at least. If Regan wanted to see vampires, she’d let her see one… maybe two, tops. Meaning, a few of Jade’s usual spots were absolutely out of contention for this little research trip. Even the idea of bringing Regan to infested places like Gallow’s Grove or Eluria had her spiraling a little bit. (Just a smidge) (She was a chill gal, she didn’t spiral). The isolated nature of this cemetery was what pushed it to the top of the list. And… All the time spent thinking (yuck) and planning (ew) should better pay off.

But of course, Regan noticed how stunning the ground was. She had eyes. (Except when it came to Jade, apparently) (It was totally fine, though. So extremely okay). She was surprised by Regan’s sudden turn, but her reflexes were sharp enough to stop before they bumped each other. She huffed a humorless laugh at the observation, biting her tongue not to say something inappropriate like ‘you’re beautiful’ and nodded. “Yup! Took the words… right out of my mouth!” It was a poor attempt at sounding chipper, cause at this point she didn’t care if Regan saw right through her. She had expressed several times that she wasn’t happy about any of this. (Grumbling in the car totally counted too)

So she did not let Regan sway her mood despite the excitement in her voice, which would’ve been adorable if… nope, stop it. Not going there. Geez. It was so easy to slip, but Jade was getting better at catching herself in time. Vampires. It was the only thing that should be running through her mind. “How it works is that I go first, and you stay close behind” She asserted her position with quick strides, leading the way. She no longer felt conflicted, as soon as they walked through the gates she was thinking and moving like a slayer. The crossbow slid off her shoulder, smoothly into her hands. The quiver was loaded, but just in case (Ruby would’ve said), she always remembered to check twice. All good. She made a mental rundown of every other weapon she was carrying: The two knives on her belt; the secret one, strapped to her ankle. The small satchel with her stakes and extra bolts.

Jade stepped with caution as they wandered inside the cemetery, just a faint thrum running through her arm at the moment. Nothing to worry about yet. Except, the hair on the back of her head stood on end for no freaking reason. She surveilled the area, but her spidey sense didn’t tingle. And actually… She wasn’t sure if she was on edge cause of potential vampires nearby or cause she was acutely aware of Regan trailing close behind. Maybe trying to ignore Regan was backfiring. Cause she felt even more…receptive to her presence. Which, apparently, was possible. Perfect. It would’ve been an exciting discovery had she not been trying to be good and focus on the task at hand. Focus. “I sense their presence, I know they’re here already…somewhere. Not close, it’s not… strong enough.” A small smile pulled at her lips, feeling more like herself than she had during the car drive. She turned to Regan, just barely. Evading her gaze as she had done all evening. “Maybe the service up here isn’t so great. Get it? The… like phone reception but… ” Jade sighed, not bothering to laugh at her own (amazing) joke. She shifted her gaze, back to the path, musing on spidey senses and death radars. She knew how hers worked, but Regan hadn’t explained her banshee abilities in depth. Maybe they could complement each other (it was nice to think that maybe a part of them would, at least) (Cause…nope. No, no, back on track) “You…feel it too. Not butterflies like I do, so what exactly?”

This was the most controlled and reserved Jade had ever acted around her, and Regan didn’t have to wonder why. She was surprised they had managed to come to an agreement on this at all, and half-expected it to be rescinded before they reached the peak of Mount Ime. Jade was barely even willing to appreciate the scenery, instead marching through the gates like a debriefed soldier – one who had done this a great many times. This was a different Jade – not the breezy flirt Regan had met first, not the one she’d met later whose fingers Regan still felt curling around her cheek at times – it was a persona she’d only had glimpses of. The one who spoke of monsters, and duty, and had unapologetically, unflinchingly described murder dressed up as possible delusion. The one who Metzli was surely familiar with. But hearing about it was different than seeing it.

Jade’s gait was tight, serious, and the crossbow didn’t even bob in her hands. Expert fingers knew exactly where to go. Regan recognized the familiar ease of it; her own tools belonged in her hands the exact same way. It was a strange weapon to choose, however, and not the only one in her arsenal. She didn’t know what the bag slung over her shoulder contained. And the way Jade’s hands drifted to her waist like she was taking inventory told Regan there were others on her person. Regan watched silently, her head tilted, and a cloud of questions forming in her mind. Better to ask them now than later, right? Her understanding of what was going to happen tonight was shaky, but she suspected nothing would happen if loud conversation permeated the cemetery. “I have never seen anyone use a crossbow before.” Which was somewhat of a relief, actually. Jade hadn’t fired crossbow bolts into any of her decedents. “Why choose it? And do we – I mean, do you – do anything to draw them out? The, uh, vampires.” Fearg an chinniúint, just what was Jade going to show her? “You’ve made yourself clear. I’ll follow. Closely.” Regan loped after Jade. Specks of blue spores dotted the night air as they pushed a path through them.

She hadn’t expected a surge of adrenaline at the mention of vampires being present. Regan had gone on hunts before. Her dad never would have allowed it, would have had a fit if he’d found out, but Liam offered her the escapism. And wearing an orange safety vest that was too large for her small body, alone in the Maine woods with only her brother, a shotgun, and wild animals, she remembered the spark of excitement when he would announce the bird. She could never watch. She was a child; she hated the violence, hated the noise of the blast echoing in her skull, but there was also that moment, that rush. And then a new death would dot her horizon, and the animal’s purpose made sense. When she learned that her brother couldn’t feel that, hunting, and the reason for it, made less sense. But in hindsight, the shotgun seemed like a kindness compared to the animals that–

Regan blinked at Jade’s question. She had been lost in her thoughts – the memories of someone else, really – which might have been for the best considering Jade’s evasiveness and strange behavior. The absence of Jade’s eyes looking into hers was stark. “Right. I… not butterflies for me, no.” It was a feeling banshee poets (of which there were surprisingly many) had attempted to capture for centuries, but it made clear the limitations of language. She didn’t want to leave Jade without a sufficient answer. She could aim for sufficient even if not perfect, couldn’t she? For once she’d allow it. “It’s… like it’s the only thing there. It’s familiar. A comfort that goes deeper than the dermis, deeper than the bones. It’s warm and cool at the same time. It demands everything, but it gives itself to me in its entirety.” Regan’s body relaxed at the thought, and she stopped, breathing in the earthy cemetery air. “I used to find it overwhelming. Couldn’t go near graveyards, and certainly not morgues. Now it’s easy. Is it easy for you? Can you tell how many there are? How far?”

Regan was about to start following again, but she nearly stepped on a bouquet of flowers that had rolled away from the grave they’d been left by. Dried out by the elevation and weather, but carefully chosen and cherished. Some of Conor’s, maybe. She picked it up, tidied it, and set it down in its proper, intended spot with a small nod of self-satisfaction. She wasn’t sure if it was the atmosphere, the death, or even the mushrooms, but it was like some of her pent up tenseness deflated out of her. That wasn’t right. This was an expedition, a business venture, and she needed to be as sharp and ready as Jade. Not distracted.

“Nope. It’s not super popular these days,” Jade replied without looking back, too busy scanning the field for creepy shadows amid the stones or silhouettes beyond the treeline. There was nothing drawing her attention, except for the mushrooms and their trippy glow. “I dig the aesthetic…” she added after a beat. Cause really, that was what slayers were lacking these days. Where was the flair anymore? The swag? And yeah, fine, on a more serious note, her marksmanship compensated for her less-than-perfect combat skills, and was maybe (possibly) the real reason behind her preference for ranged weaponry. But admitting she wasn’t a good fighter when they were about to encounter supernaturally strong creatures wouldn’t go over very well, would it? Nope. She needed Regan to believe she was nothing but an expert at this.

The two of them lapsed into more silence, but Jade wasn’t unsettled by it like she would any other time. Talking while hunting was hard, okay? (There was a valid reason why it was the one thing she’d rather do alone). “My training was…um, a little unconventional,” Regan didn’t know what the standards for that were, anyway. Her imagination could run wild, ‘cause Jade wasn’t sure she could ever breach that conversation without her stomach turning. Though, if she crammed ten jokes per sentence she could totally make it work. Another question led to another quick answer. “Blood draws them out, babe. A beating heart is a good start”.

With no apparent threats ahead of them, Jade lowered the crossbow and moved with more ease down the path, mulling over Regan’s words. Her skin crawled, there was no doubt about it, but with the entire field of vision at her disposal, she could confidently say there was no risk of being ambushed, for now. So… where were they? Right, words. The whole death sense sounded super beautiful, actually. Romantic, even. Like, did Regan realize it wasn’t too far from what humans wrote about devotion… or love. Her heart clenched. (Unknown reasons). She bit back a joke about Regan making it as a writer if medicine ever failed her. And yeah, it was a bummer not to share one of her wonderful quips, but it would’ve spoiled the moment, anyway. How many times had she asked Regan to talk about herself and her duty? Yup, she better listen when it happened.

Jade had already gathered a few pieces of the puzzle that was Regan’s life, but she couldn’t put them together yet. She was missing a few of those annoying, single-colored pieces that literally connected everything. And she seemed to be close to snatching one. “How…um, how did you get better?” Jade hesitated over her own question. There was an inkling. A gut feeling more like, by the way something soured in her belly. If banshee training paralleled slayer training in any shape or form, it couldn’t have been easy peasy lemon squeezy to hone those skills. (Not that she was like, complaining though! Hunting was the best job in the world.) “I didn’t struggle. I could just feel it…” And though she wasn’t the quickest to develop her undead sense (that was Ruby, obviously), it had come pretty naturally for her too. “But it did totally freak me out when I was at the park and the nice lady letting me pet her dog made me all tingly”.

Regan's bajillion questions were far from overwhelming. If she were to follow through with her list of reasons why the two were actually a good fit, their matching curiosity would’ve been close to the top. (And yeah, it was more like… they were both super nosy, whatever) (She would twist anything to make it sound romantic, alright?). The only problem was, it wasn’t the time to answer questions. Not when her spidey sense intensified with each step they took toward the second section of the graveyard, walking past a tiny pond to reach a row of well-kept headstones. She had to focus on the monsters. “I’ll answer anything you want when…” Regan was gone. Jade didn’t have to look to feel her absence. She simply knew, her muscles instantly relaxed, and her lungs were finally able to take a full breath when the woman vanished from her side (or well, back). She whipped around quickly, a wave of concern crashing over her and ebbing as soon as she spotted Regan, not only safe, but also standing there fixing a bouquet like… they were taking a leisure stroll. What?

A huff, equal parts shudder and laughter escaped her lips, caught off guard by the sight of Regan in her own little world. Happily arranging some flowers, as all those… uncaring people did. And like, what was Jade supposed to do? Not notice how the woman was perfectly framed by the blue glow. And the flowers. And the night sky? Even the pathetic little branch from the nearest tree was putting in the work. It was a freaking masterpiece and she was supposed to what, ignore it? She had never seen Regan like that, unconcerned with her presence or her surroundings, tension barely weighing on her shoulders and… Come on! Jade had restrained herself from looking all evening. She could indulge for a moment, she deserved it. She wasn’t at a kissing distance, it was totally chill. So she stole a tiny glance, then another, eyes setting gently over her favorite face, brushing over pale skin, and then she was locked in.

Jade was no banshee (duh), but boy if that death-sense description from before wasn't resonating super hard with her now. For… whatever reason. The warmth spreading in her chest could’ve heated the entire ground. (Which was actually? pretty nice cause it was super chilly and she didn’t bring a jacket). Her heart pounded a little angry, and a lot sad. Why would this feeling be wrong? She couldn’t (shouldn’t) question it, but it was as tempting, it really was. That door kept opening and she didn’t know if closing it was possible anymore.

Regan was done with tidying up the bouquet, which meant she could lift her gaze and notice her any time. Jade made no effort to look away, instead bracing herself for that moment she’d denied herself all evening. Something new came alight between them the second their eyes met. Her belly swooped, her knees wobbled a little. But that was like, 'cause the ground must’ve been uneven. (Lazy groundskeeper). Had she trusted her legs a little more, (or had the field been firmer), Jade would’ve closed the distance and crashed their lips together right there, put an end to the agonizing will-they/won’t-they dance they were currently stuck in. Yet she stayed, taking in Regan a little longer. Giving her some time to gather herself as well.

Whatever notion of control she’d been holding onto couldn’t stop her eyes from twinkling, and not even attempting to bite the side of her lip helped conceal her smile. “What were you doing?” it came out in a bated breath, words wrapped around a layer of tenderness instead of frustration, which she should’ve aimed for. ‘Cause monsters and vampires and… why did the splash of color on Regan’s cheek have to look so soft, and why did her eyes have to shine so intensely blue at night? (Stupid mushrooms). Jade was once again, betrayed by impossible desire. But maybe the sweetness in her voice wouldn’t carry all the way to Regan’s ears. Of course! She was counting on her years-long dry spell to work in Jade’s favor. Maybe Regan had no memory of what smitten sounded like. Wishful thinking.

Plus, there was still time to rectify and steer the ship away from dangerously homoerotic waters. Jade could stand her ground against Regan’s adorable hijinks (which these days involved just existing, really). She was no lovesick fool. She broke their reverie, her entire being still shaky. “I have something for you” she tried, more cooly this time as she drilled the word vampire into her skull. She moved her crossbow to the side, her right hand reaching inside her bag and pulling out Niall. She waved the wooden stake between them, gaze darting around to find a safe spot on Regan’s face. Not her eyes and definitely not her lips. She settled for her right eyebrow. Yup, so unsexy. (If her fingertips burned to trace the arch, it was neither here nor there). “It’s this or a knife. I’m not negotiating”. She had never spoken like that to Regan. There was no anger behind her words, no teasing, no affection not… any of the registers usually reserved for the woman. Just assertiveness. She was in charge here. “You know better than I do where the chest is, so. A little stab there and they’re dust,” she inhaled at the same time Regan opened her mouth to protest, and she got ahead of her apprehension. “I’m not telling you to use it, but if… If. At least keep it in your pocket, please” She had a lot of those in that annoying winter coat of hers.

“Of course you were a natural.” A hint of warmth softened Regan’s face. “Bloodworth. It’s no surprise. Even among your siblings, I bet.” That nice-lady-tingling could have meant something else, but she kept that thought to herself. And what atypical training had been layered on top of Jade’s innate proficiency? It was a threadbare description, really not one at all, and Regan didn’t need to be a banshee to feel its ghost lingering across Jade’s face. The downtick of her eyes, the way her words came out just a couple miles-per-hour less than usual. We’re more alike than you want to admit, Jade had said, and as Regan had formulated her own mental bullet points for that statement, there was one on the very edge of her mind that she refused to humor. But as Jade turned to Regan’s own preparation and training, that thought plummeted from her mind and gnawed at the lining of her stomach. “Another time, maybe.” Regan said noncommittally, thinking decades ahead.

With the flowers placed where they belonged (all in a night’s work, Linda Marshfield, beloved mother and grandmother, 1962-2022), she glanced up, expecting to need to trot back to Jade, who probably went on ahead without her. She could slip in, and Jade wouldn’t even know she’d lost pace. Except, that was wrong, and Jade was standing right there, watching like a sentry, with the moon behind her like she commanded it, and an expression on her face that Regan couldn’t quite place. Bemusement, maybe, if it were stifled under a layer of barely-managed self-restraint. Regan knew that one pretty well.

And it wasn’t until Jade’s question – light, almost playful, despite technically being accusatory – batted at her cheeks like a cat’s paw, that she realized this was even something she wanted to hide. Not that she could. She raised her palms. “Nothing.” She had been caught, like when her father clenched her backpack by the straps and shook out all of the forbidden bones; her stomach seared at the lie even though no true effort had gone into it. Fine. “Okay, something. I –” She wanted to look down to the bouquet, now carefully placed by the headstone, but she couldn’t pull her eyes away from Jade. Her silhouette practically glowed. Regan cleared her throat, breaking the charged silence. “They were displaced, and I thought they deserved to be where they were meant to be. They held significance to someone, their memories of the deceased. That’s all.” Her voice was soft, but tinged with something that was most certainly not nervousness. Not her. “You know… somebody came all this way to leave them. Even the smallest expressions of remembrance should be treated with dignity.”

Her slow heart pounded as she felt the weight of Jade’s eyes still on her. She tried to read them but the moment ignited an indescribable something within her that went beyond the simple mechanics of her body. Which was also failing her. The temperature inside her coat soared and she felt slickness in more than just her palms. A mad thought gripped her brain right through the dura mater. Not even a thought. An instinct, one that even the sharpest tools and most vicious drownings had not completely disintegrated. It would be both incredibly easy and incredibly stupid to approach, lean in, and dispel this torture in a simple, daring kiss. It would also mean eight years toppling to nothing, because she hadn’t been entirely scraped out of herself, and Jade knew it.

Unfair. There was that word again, permeating her thoughts, spoken aloud last time they had grazed this close to intimacy. She wanted to breathe Jade in, to run her fingers through her mushroom-lit waves, to feel Jade’s warm skin against her lips. But she didn’t want any of that, because she couldn’t. So her useless chest ached, and she wondered how something so hollow could feel so full.

I have something for you. That statement delivered in that tone – strange, abrupt, all business – was jarring, and Regan didn’t quite know what to make of it. She toed closer to Jade, tragically without intent, and tilted her head. Then realized that was a mistake as something hot poured through her. No head tilt. Too close. She righted herself. That’s right. The gift. Focus. And why was Jade looking at – Regan’s fingers went up and quickly brushed across her eyebrow, and she gave Jade a quizzical look. A bug? Spores stuck to her skin? “Did I get it?” She could smell something fruity, maybe gum. Mixed with the scent of freshly-turned cemetery soil, she couldn’t resist a deep inhalation. And missed what Jade had said (had she said something?), because apparently she couldn’t focus on breathing and listening at the same time this close to her face. The full-body buzz of the air around her didn’t help. Was it too late, now? To reel that moment back in, to act on it?

Speak, òinseach. Her tongue hesitated. Then sputtered to life. “Oh, um, sure. What is it?” Jade’s hand darted into her bag and suddenly a stake of wood was being waved like a windshield wiper across her vision, and her eyes widened as they were wrenched away from Jade’s. Her face probably would have gushed disappointment if she wasn’t so confused. What was the wood for? How was that an alternative to a knife – which she’d brought at Jade’s urging, thank you very much? The atmosphere had shifted, Jade had shifted, and when she mentioned stabbing a “vampire” in the chest, it clicked. Stake to the heart. Jade didn’t expect her to actually use it, right? “But–” A step ahead as always.

“I’m not going to use that.” But her hand still curled around the wood, fingertips brushing against Jade’s, and now it was her turn to cut in because if she didn’t reject it now she was pretty sure they’d both stand there holding a piece of screadaíl wood together for an hour, and would that really be so bad? “It’s a piece of wood, and I don’t need – look. I listened when you told me to be prepared, okay? I did. Even though it’s not necessary. I’m capable of listening. Excellent at it, really.” Nevermind her inability to do so 30 seconds earlier. Regan reached into her pocket – one of too many – and pulled out a small, sleek dagger from its concealed sheath. The glint of steel caught the ambient glow. It was a favorite, with etchings of twisting vines carved into it and a double-edged blade. “It’s real, in case you’re about to ask. I didn’t make it out of cardboard. But I don’t intend to ever use it on anyone.” Only on animals. Only on things. “I know where to aim,” Regan said, meeting Jade with an equally resolute gaze.

And then silence. Regan breathed out a sigh, and became acutely aware that their breath was mingling in the small pocket of cold air between them. Again. She pushed her palm to her forehead and closed her eyes. It was the cemetery, she decided. They didn’t have this problem in the car. Except for that time Regan almost drove off the – no, it was the cemetery. Above, the clouds pulled back, revealing bright stars. And Regan thought she might scream.

She could fix this, bury this agony right here with all of the dead. Her words rushed into each other, frantic. “You know, I’ve delayed us. We should go find some of the, uh, the vampires. Right? It’s getting late, and I’m sure they need to, uh, sleep.” Her eyes were hopeful as she looked between Jade and the path ahead. Mostly at Jade.

Whether it was a delightful pun with her last name (Regan made a pun, hopefully on purpose), or the sudden care for messy bouquets, Regan had zero intentions of making this easy for Jade. She just didn’t. Wasn’t this supposed to be a joint effort? A collaboration, if you will. “Something,” it didn’t escape her how two months ago, that one word would’ve been twisted to tease the other woman. A trademark: The mocking tone, the eyebrow wiggle, and bam! Someone was riled up. But she was gentle now, patient. All she wanted was for Regan to share the mushy bits of that jumbo-sized heart she was still adamant didn't exist, of course. Vulnerability wasn’t a weakness, not with her. Another breath squeezed past her lips when Regan conceded. And Jade hung onto every word in a way she couldn’t when they met. Back when the only obstacle to this was their night and day styles of communicating. Her smile stretched, wondering if Regan’s ultimate goal was to ensure no air was left in her lungs. Or if she needed it all to herself. Whatever the intention, she was killing it (her). “That’s very sweet of you,” she whispered, a knowing look crossing her face. She left it at that, rather than running the moment with out-of-pocket commentary.

Having successfully maneuvered her way out of another highly charged exchange with more finesse than Regan had as she took on the curves up Mount Ime (‘cause seriously, what was that about?), Jade put all her efforts into doing her job. Or so she thought. Any time she tried, Regan derailed her (let the record show, it took great strength not to joke about railings). But really, what was this freaky Friday thing going on? Eyebrows pinched together, she watched as Regan fussed over something on the right side of her face. What was she doing? The hand rummaging through her bag to find Niall almost redirected toward Regan. Almost brushed the hair off her face, and whatever else was bothering her. It would’ve been mistake number two. Alas, vampires. “Stop it, you’re perfect,” she let out a chuckle, nose crinkling in confusion, unaware she was responsible for the odd behavior.

With the invisible threat gone, another attempt at getting things on track followed. Regan wasn’t thrilled with the stake (duh). Jade had the rebuttal on the tip of her tongue, but what followed was possibly the biggest plot twist of the night and the century. Regan… listened? (Cut the cameras!) Her eyebrows rose in slow motion, all bets off as to where this was heading. She fixated on Regan’s eyebrow for as long as she could, but the ruffling of the coat got to her. What was that about? Well, she had to peek now, it was like, calling to her. And she did, ever so slowly, conscious of the way their fingers met on the stake (there was no need for it, except… yup) (Neither of them made any effort to acknowledge it) but she had to keep it moving, to the other hand, the one pulling out… a blade? “You…” Jade swallowed, the heat in her chest traveling south. When she dragged her eyes back up, she didn’t know about rules or restraint (duty registered, but faintly) as she held Regan’s gaze. “You brought a…” Well, if Regan holding a dagger wasn’t the hottest thing she’d ever witnessed, it was totally up there.

Crap. Time and place. A time and place for everything, right? Wrong. Jade wasn’t sure she’d ever wanted Regan this badly before. (There had to be a ceiling for that) (Pretty please? She couldn’t take this torture two extra months). It was unnerving how effortlessly the woman pushed the right buttons. And, like… what other buttons could she… nope. Keeping PG. (For Linda). There was nothing PG about the sudden rise and fall of her chest, or the glint behind her eyes as they flickered unabashedly to Regan’s lips, zero pretense vampires mattered anymore. It wasn’t the first time she’d been… in the mood at a cemetery (she and Owen had a lot of fun with that). It wasn’t the first time she felt this with Regan either. Booty calls were booty calls for a reason (except for Regan, of course). This was so different, so intoxicating. It had stopped being a purely physical affair some time ago. Which made every little movement, every scent, every intake so heightened it would be glorious, if only they could act on it. Her lips parted and her eyes climbed back to Regan’s, hoping to confirm they were finally on the same wavelength.

Oh. Yup. Linda was about to witness unspeakable things. Things that might bring her back to life. (If only to ask them to please not do it in front of her headstone). And when Regan asserted her hypothetical stabbing competence? Her eyes glazed with need. (This totally counted as dirty talk in her book). Her brain misfired, overcome by... every emotion. All of the ones in Animal Crossing, at least. And like the idiot she was when her brain was no longer behind the wheel, she took a step forward, pushing the stake into her bag. Even if that meant losing touch, ‘cause she needed a free hand for…

Shoot, the vampires! The shiver running down her spine had nothing to do with the way Regan’s breath trembled against hers and everything to do with her skin screaming danger. Her hand made it to Regan’s waist, original intent scraped as she pulled her down to crouch. Jade cowered behind Linda’s headstone. And okay, it barely hid them, but it was something. And no. it wasn’t super girlbossy of her, alright? But no one could accuse her of being rash. Rash was for when she wasn’t next to… ugh, she didn’t know what to call Regan at this point. It was a testament to how scrambled her brain was after that moment, that she couldn’t think of words. Hazel eyes inspected the field, finding nothing of interest in the headstones, but the mushrooms glowing in different corners of the ground helped her catch a beastly creature amid the trees.

“Spawn” Jade whispered in the shakiest voice. The mood was clearly ruined, but her body was still reeling from the kiss that wasn’t. Struggling to cool down. She couldn’t ignore the way her nose almost brushed against Regan’s cheek as she spoke. “It happens when a vampire lets their blood thirst override them. They lose all human capacity, so it’s like…It’s just a beast” she squinted, trying to make out its movement, crossbow perched atop Linda’s stone. “I think… it's got a meal” she hummed, pushing away the worries of what a fresh body could mean for other creatures lurking. “I can hurt it from here. Seal the deal up close”.

The way Jade jolted at the dagger had Regan thinking she might have done something wrong. That thought winked in and out of existence faster than a blowfly finding a fresh cadaver. No, that was not it. That definitely wasn’t it. She wasn’t even sure kissing was the plan here. The space between them had become excruciating and Regan wasn’t going to question Jade’s sudden distractibility, the way she no longer cared about the stake, or the vampires, or, apparently, the duty they’d discussed into the ground. She met Jade’s eyes – the green flecks practically glowing, matching the spores peppering her hair; she was the brightest thing in the cemetery even with the moon behind her – and heat flushed inside Regan from stem to sternum. Regan’s hand moved without her permission, tentative at first, then certain. More certain than of anything in recent memory.

When she returned to Saol Eile, her grandmother might just kill her. She would know. Because it was obvious, wasn’t it? So obvious… a rib-cracking scream was easier to keep at bay than Jade, and rocked her heart less, too.

“Bás glac chugam,” Regan breathed, the last of her resolve turning to dust like the piles of bones beneath her feet. She could feel Jade’s wonderfully soft skin against her fingertips as she traced them slowly along her mandible, creeping up right behind her ear. She was so warm in every way, a glorious little pit of heat like a maggot mass in the winter, and even Regan’s lungs made no objections. Her wings might have fluttered if they could. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d even tried to touch someone like this, with this tenderness. Physical contact of any kind was typically reserved for handshakes and the dead (which, to be fair, was there anything more intimate than an autopsy?), but all the death in the cemetery was inconsequential noise as she closed in on Jade.

Regan inched closer, could feel Jade’s hand by her waist, gentle, compelling. Apparently this was more important than a stake or a crossbow. Regan wasn’t going to ask. No, didn’t even wish to think about it… as if she could think right now. Jade’s eyes were pleading, checking with her, sweeping her away. Regan could feel Jade’s breath against her skin as she closed her eyes, Jade’s hair curled around her fingers, and –

Something was wrong. A ripple ran through Jade’s body and Regan’s eyes shot open, suspicious that she had not been the cause. There was something else, too – a drop of wrongness soaking into this place of perfect death, a fray in the tapestry. She was on the ground before she could process what that was, what was happening, what was not happening. Regan tamped her mouth shut to keep a sharp whine from escaping. And there was something else there, beyond that twisted, almost unrecognizable death in the distance – a flare of something raw and exposed. And large. It almost drowned out the perversion of the other presence, and Regan latched onto it. There was a body. She blinked at Jade’s lips. Then Jade’s eyes. It was good they were crouched because she was dizzy enough to fall over. How had Jade reacted so quickly? Did she live in a perpetual state of ready-for-anything-ness? Probably.

Vampire. Of course. The reason they were here, and what Regan had requested to see, and what Jade was only somewhat willingly showing her, and nothing to do with what they had been about to collaborate on. “Yeah, I think I get it,” Regan said breathlessly, feeling pretty absent of capacity herself. She tried to follow Jade’s line of sight (once it had moved off of her) into the trees, but she couldn’t make anything out, seemingly unlike Jade. Slowly, she was able to pull shapes from the shadows as her eyes adjusted. A big creature moved, and as it turned, spores revealed what she hadn’t been able to see. The grotesque, upturned nose, the huge, fanned ears, the leathery wings. The glistening teeth. It was monstrous, looked as though it couldn’t be real, but the impact of it was lessened by the fact it was also familiar.

Understanding flashed through Regan. “I’ve – I’ve seen them before.” Her voice tightened. “Not here. I mean, not – forget that.” She hadn’t explained her asfís bháis to Jade yet, and right now, cowering behind a headstone (thank you, Linda, for returning the kindness), was not the time. Her fingers curled around the top of the grave as she peeked at the creature, the spawn. It was moving closer, dragging something with it. And Regan knew exactly what it was. The nose of the crossbow was inches away, readied, and though Jade seemed to be reeling, too, she was expertly focused. How quickly she could change. Regan stayed hushed, but her voice wavered with the realization. “They’ve killed my decedents, put dozens in the morgue. It has one now.” Something danced too close to anger inside of her. “I will not allow this. Either it dug someone up and is parading the body around, or it killed someone who had come here to mourn. It has what is mine.” Regan shifted, ready to spring up. Even after the whole display of the dagger, Regan had no intention of reaching for it. An unnatural weapon, as far as she was concerned. She gave Jade a desperate look. There was a plan forming behind Jade’s eyes. Ranged weapon strike. And then what? She’d tackle the huge creature? These things had killed people. But Regan had made a promise to Jade, and… Jade understood, right? The cadaver was important, more important than anything. So Regan stayed low, resisting what her body wanted to do, hoping her trust would not shame her.

The word focus had never played so many times in her head before. (And she like, had a whole Ariana Grande phase, so that was saying something). But it was a must to keep that word in heavy rotation, cause Jade kept seeing Regan’s face inches away from hers every time she blinked. It was basically ingrained behind her eyelids. She was cold (colder) now too, with no hand tracing her face or tangling in her hair. So cold. And…Did that truly happen? She never would’ve expected Regan to indulge in something like that. The walls were crumbling. (They were). She needed to like, rewind that moment, and confirm it had been real, not some fluke of her desperate imagination. She had to know if Regan was ready to give this a chance for real. Except, nope. Cause… UGH. Wait, what did she say? She stared at Regan, eyes wide at the revelation. (She focused on her mouth. Nope, crap. The eyebrow, she had to look at her eyebrow. Her shoulder maybe. Yup) (Better). “You have?” She frowned, confusion etched in her features even as Regan made a poor attempt to brush off her comment. What? Where? A knot formed in her belly at the possibility of Regan existing close to any of these monsters in the past. And yup, this confirmed this was a bad, no good, terrible idea. She couldn’t back down though. She never backed down, ever. Why would Regan do this to her? (Making her cautious or whatever?) (How dare she?)

Regan. Who looked about… two seconds away from going to square up with the spawn herself. And Jade? Having a terrible time. Seriously, was this Freaky Friday? Her hand squeezed Regan’s waist like a warning, hoping to snuff out the fire in her eyes. She trailed gently up her back, pushing against her shoulder. “And we’ll get him.” At least, judging by the height and the build, the dead body on the ground was a man. It was probably irrelevant to Regan, but if Jade kept her busy with words, and the flutter of her eyelashes, then there were no hands being thrown (Regan wouldn’t like that very much anyway). “I’ll take care of it,” she looked into desperate eyes, unable to stop her hand from moving higher. Her knuckles brushed tenderly against a cold cheek: An unspoken promise. (Definitely better that way… all things considered). When her mind was a little sharper, she reached for the crossbow. She was focused. Finally. The sooner she disposed of the spawn, the sooner Regan was safe. (And free to like, hold her face again, if she wished).

Jade had a clear goal. She raised her index finger, signaling ‘one second’. The grip on her crossbow tightened, eyes narrowed to aim. The first bolt flew straight to the spawn’s knee, destabilizing it. The second followed a second later, directed at the beast’s ankle. She always loved the exhilarating moment when the bolt pierced through the tendon and the spawn tumbled. Jade knew it wasn’t enough to incapacitate them, but it was good enough to weaken them. Experience had shown, it was her most solid strategy so far. Jade shot a third and final bolt to the neck, and she jolted off the headstone, dropping her weapon to the ground, swiftly replaced with Niall and one of her blades. It was her window to pounce. Except, she wasn’t pouncing just yet. She turned to Regan first… ‘Cause she’s ever-present in her mind. “Only follow once I’m at a safe distance. I have this, trust me.” Her heart pounded in her chest, knowing there was no need to invoke the promise. And boy, did she want to kiss her right then, too. (Just in case, Ruby would’ve said). But her legs understood the assignment far better than her heart, picking up the pace toward the trees.

Her window began closing once the spawn figured out where the bolts came from. Its feral gaze zeroed in on Jade. (Good) (Linda better be hiding Regan). She ran, hoping for a strong collision, one that would send them both tumbling to the ground. And yup, it went exactly like that. She was even a little winded as she maneuvered herself on top of the monster. It was so much easier while it was recovering, though. While it pawed its bloodied neck desperately, screeching in pain. This was going to be an easy one. Maybe she could try and look a little hotter in front of Regan. Show off. Niall twirled in her fingers, taunting the spawn underneath her, but sharp claws swung at her face, slicing in retaliation (so rude). Jade braced her full weight forward, plunging the stake straight into its chest, catching herself with one hand against the ground. Dust coated the night air, mixing with the glowing spores. Whew, that almost got away from her. For like, a tiny moment. She was still in control though. She scrambled to her feet and glanced back, a smug grin playing on her lips. Her worries vanished (they have been totally mild anyway) (worrying was for losers). Regan didn’t look like, super entertained… but she assumed it was down to the ‘creature turning to dust’ of it all. “Okay, you can come and get it” she panted, gaze dropping to the cadaver.

Entrusting the protection of the body to Jade made Regan’s lungs grow with protest, but she wouldn’t scream it. If anyone understood how precious that cadaver was to her, it was Jade. Jade who rolled into action like a gurney being rushed through the ED, leaving Regan to wonder if she’d felt her hand against her back at all, leaving just the ghost of fingers against her lumbar and a dab of warmth on her cheek. The only thing worse than the asphyxiating amount of tension in the air between them was the pulling away when someone finally managed to take a gasp. Croí ag cur fola, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could do this. Saol Eile would set that limit for her, but firm as her mind was on the matter (will of iron, she reminded herself), it still felt abstract, faraway. And Jade was solid, here.

Regan’s nails scratched against the headstone as her grip tightened. Jade had signaled that it was about to begin – whatever it was. The sound of the crossbow firing made her flinch, but the sound that followed was even more unsettling: a bolt sinking into flesh, and a roar of pain. When Regan killed, it was near instant. She couldn’t tolerate things being in pain. Even Liam shot to kill, always to kill, on those trips into the woods. This was no bird in the crosshairs or deer tethered outside of her cabin, though, and before the thing could seemingly even comprehend what had happened, a second bolt secured itself in the Achilles… assuming this creature’s anatomy was even somewhat familiar. Another roar. Regan shrank back, but Jade was drunk with life. The crossbow clicked to reload so quickly she barely registered it, and there was an immediate third third bolt fired in the trapezius. The thing staggered and stumbled, dragging its injured leg behind itself as it flailed its remaining limbs, narrowed eyes scanning for whatever had made it suffer. As it finally turned toward Jade, its upturned nose huffing, Regan saw how bright and red its eyes were.

Jade turned to her, and the unknown felt a little more known. She wasn’t frightened. She had expected this, all of it – to her, it was probably just another night out. A protest died in Regan’s mouth; Jade’s reassurance sounded almost believable. She had this, right? Regan thought of the body, how vulnerable it was out there, still within grabbing distance of the monster. But it was Jade making her stomach clench with concern. “I am stepping in if things go south. I don’t care what I promised.” Her voice was quiet, and Jade had already turned away, claimed by a duty that was becoming slightly less opaque by the second.

So Regan did what she said she would, and listened, watched. Jade moved so fluidly, possessing the kind of beauty Regan so scarcely admired in a live human, and usually appreciated only when they were dead and open on an autopsy table. She had perfect command over her body – was that really a surprise? – and Regan watched with a mixture of apprehension and awe at her practiced agility and focus. Jade was incredible, close to pushing the bounds of what Regan thought was even possible outside of Olympic events. It was too easy to forget about the target. The monster, the spawn. As Jade closed in on it, Regan’s visibility suffered. They became a tumbling mass, both hitting the ground in a manner that looked painful enough that Regan shot up to her feet from where she was concealed, trying to get a better look, itching to run over. But gravity reminded her of the promise she made, and she was pulled back into place. She could fight it if she had to. But when she looked up from her traitorous feet, back at Jade, she got a surprise – Jade was on top. “Winning,” if that could be said. How was that possible? She was so small, and that beast was a brute, yet Jade was fully in control of the situation.

Or, she was. What was she doing? Why was she spinning the – Regan winced as the creature slashed at Jade’s face. She couldn’t see well enough to spot any blood, but Jade’s body shuddered and she had a feeling the claws made impact. It didn’t stop her for long. Actually, it kind of looked like it pissed Jade off, and she made it the last thing the monster would ever do. There was an explosion of fine powder, of dust, and it took on a blue glow as it dispersed into the night. Regan stared at where the remains should have been. Her brain halted, froze over like the freezers in the morgue. “The math was not mathing,” as Jade liked to say. There was nothing but a dark, empty space, and Jade propping herself off the ground like she’d seen this hundreds of times before. There was a look on her face, a cheeky one. Pleased with herself, Regan realized; this had been fun for her in some way. Something about that made her stomach churn, but that was to be addressed later, or never. Besides, Jade’s safety and the invitation to approach gave her more than enough to think about – the body, Jade had saved the body. Well, one of them. The other was dust.

Regan was able to charge over with the ivy of a promise bind pulling her back, and despite the circumstances, she was reeling a little less now that she was closer to Jade. Still reeling plenty, though. Her voice wobbled when she was able to speak, and the droplets of blood on Jade’s cheek only shook her more. “That – the – that was a vampire? Where did it – how? How?” Okay, try that again. “It was huge. And you tackled it. And then you used the wood, and it vanished. Or… the dust. And the spores. What was that? Explain how that’s possible. How can there be no remains? How many times have you done this? How much did that thing weigh? What happened to the bolts? Why wood? Why did you twirl the stake around? Was that part of it? How much preparation did you need in order to learn this? Actually, forget all of that. Just let me see your face.” Too many questions. They came out in a flurry. She doubted she would have absorbed anything. She didn’t have a clue what else to say about the spawn and the lack of evidence it was ever there to begin with, save for the claw marks on Jade. But she did know injuries. She could do injuries.

It wasn’t deep, but cuts and scrapes on the cheeks always stung, always swelled. The crystal clear goal of examining the wound made Regan bold. There wasn’t a second of hesitation this time. She slipped her fingers back behind Jade’s ear and gently steered Jade’s gaze toward hers. She had intended for her eyes to jump to the scratches, to get a better look at them. She really had. But they wouldn’t budge from Jade’s eyes, until they so foolishly fell to her lips, and then Regan was gone, the cemetery was gone, and there was only Jade. Well, and the cadaver – she could feel that, too, mixed in with the buzz against her skin as she inhaled Jade’s breath and pushed closer.

Her lips were so warm, Regan thought her own might just melt. Or maybe her whole body would just dissolve into the ground and she’d rest here with all the bones. Jade seemed fired up, too, her breathing fast, her heart pounding enough for both of them. Regan’s hand wound itself back into Jade’s hair and that iron will of hers instantly corroded. She leaned in further, soaking in as much of Jade as she possibly could, and when she gasped this time, that tension was no longer asphyxiating, but exhilarating. Her body remembered this, somehow. The rest clicked into place like a bone popping back into its socket. Her breath hitched. What was this? That lightness in her chest, in her lungs? She needed to force the corners of her mouth to stay where they were, not curl upward, as they brushed against Jade’s skin. Losing battle.

When her lungs burned, she pulled away, and her face felt strange in a way she didn’t recognize, especially when her eyes opened to find Jade’s, spore-bright and… surprised, maybe.

There was a silence she didn’t know how to fill. She counted breaths. All audible. Close, warm, filling her like death. Finally, Regan couldn’t stand it anymore. “I – I forgot about your scratch,” she admitted, clearing her throat a little. Can I forget about it again? She had nearly asked it. And then, reality came barreling in, and she thought of the future. And Ireland. And her heart sank like the stone she wished it was. She looked down, the implications of what had just happened tearing through her like an aortic dissection, that lightness being snatched away by a cold fist. The chilly air of the cemetery seemed to snap around her again. I should not have done that. It was a cruel thought, maybe crueler than what she had actually done, and she refused to speak it to Jade. It was a hollow thought, too, more out of necessity than her own mind – she wasn’t sure she actually regretted anything.

Regan flicked her eyes back to Jade, and then toward the cadaver, who was waiting so patiently for anyone to inform the police. “I should… you know, call my office. So they can get him.” Her voice knotted. “Thank you for that. For showing me, and helping him, and –” Regan bit the inside of her lip, stopping an apology in its tracks. She fished into her pocket for her Blackberry, couldn’t locate it, and then realized it was in the other one. “I’ll make that call.”

Jade pushed the knife back into its sheath, slipped Niall inside her bag, and waited for Regan to make her way over to them. Her mischievous grin was perfectly in place (as always). She could almost see the wheels turning inside Regan’s head, maybe a little smoke coming out of her ears too, like a cartoon character. It was a lot to process, to be fair. But she was not prepared for so many things to come out of her mouth all at once. “Spawn, technically yes, but…” she rushed, and it was all she got out before Regan charged with a number of questions that gave her own word-per-minute rate a run for its money. Geez. Could she rewind a little? Or slow down, or, actually, scratch that. Jade totally would’ve asked Regan to pick one question to answer first, but then gentle hands cradled her face, blue eyes demanded her full attention and well, her brain got scrambled, alright? Like, badly. So scrambled she couldn’t grasp why Regan would have such interest in a simple scratch.

‘Cause wait, had anyone ever worried over her wounds before? Um.

Like… Onyx loved to hype her up, make her feel proud of them (battle scars, duh). It meant next time she could endure more, she would be tougher to break. And her big bro trained her to be tougher than the rest. On the other hand, Ruby rolled her eyes, even when she always took on the chore of mending her. A sign of sloppiness, she’d call it. Sloppiness that made her a nuisance on the field, a risk to her siblings' lives (which were far more important than hers was unsaid, but understood). Jasper had no nuance, he was always blunt. He downright questioned her skills, whether she had any real talent to call herself a Bloodworth (the answer was no, according to him). And Amber watched in silence, always stoic and resigned to the fact that duty equaled brutality. But at least she’d always check on her after, offer to bring her to TacoBell or something (It was one of the reasons she was her fave). And Regan?

Jade’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion, trying to decipher her look. Oh. Of course: Medical concern. Regan was a doctor, she was like… doctoring and stuff. Yup. Did she give the same thirsty look to all her patients though? (She hoped not, ‘cause they were like… dead and all) (Not ‘cause she’d be jealous. Nope). “You like what you see, huh?” A teasing smile stretched her lips, ready to deflect now that she connected the dots. The scratch barely stung anyway, and it’d heal in no time. It didn’t mean she couldn’t delight in the attention, though. “It hurts so much, doc. Can you kiss it better?” She mocked with a pout, trying to step away from Regan’s scrutiny despite how daring words were.

And… So. About that… (Plot twist).

Jade was ready for it. Her. Only ‘cause years of experience made it easy to spot that glint behind blue eyes, that switch flipping when the decision was made, either consciously or unconsciously. Jade’s hand slid smoothly to the small of Regan’s back, bringing their bodies together, gasping at the contact. Nothing about herself felt composed or smooth, though. She was a mess as soon their lips brushed, all her pent-up tension released in a whimper. Her fingers dug into Regan’s lower back, the only sign of how desperate she was for it. Feening for closeness when there was no more space between them. Regan was so soft, it was a little unfair. Her lips were a little cold, but the warm, shallow breath against her more than made up for it. Jade breathed her in, mouth seeking more of her, but almost pulled away when she felt the smile against her lips. Her heart skipped a few beats, the flutter in her belly was incessant. Regan was smiling and she couldn’t see it.

She was also, gone too soon, and Jade tried chasing her lips, extend the moment just a little (or a lot) longer, but all she felt around her was the cold night air. Cruel. How was she supposed to settle for boring Reganless air now? Her eyebrows were still stuck a little high, the only proof Regan had taken her by surprise. But she schooled her expression, gaze setting on Regan. Post kiss Regan. Which had now catapulted to the hottest Regan had ever looked. (And like, she had seen her hold a knife moments ago). She was all flushed cheeks and parted lips, chest still heaving, eyes darker than usual as black melted over blue. Not so different from the Regan she initially met. The one who had totally wanted her but chose the ulcers instead.

That brief trip down memory lane gave Jade a reality check, slowly deflating her spirit. Crap. They shouldn’t have done that. She stayed quiet, all the jokes she had already lined up for this moment, if it ever happened, taking several seats. Instead, she tried deciphering what was going on with Regan. If the first thing she’d blurt out would be: ‘This was a mistake’. If she’d claim she thought Jade’s scratch needed assisted breathing or some other insane rationalization. Or if she would never address where her mouth had been the moment before at all. And then Jade wondered what that meant. Why now? What about Regan’s duty? What about all the things she insisted could never happen between them? Her freaking… Iron will! Was she fine making mistakes then, failing? Was it even a failure, technically? It so wasn’t. But for the sake of… science, maybe they should give it another go and confirm her suspicions. (Science was great, Regan would agree). And wow, she really hated having to second-guess a kiss. Especially that kiss. How did people live with so many questions inside, by the way? It was super scary.

Regan suddenly spoke, pulling Jade out of the daze. Thanking her for… the kiss? Oh, nope, the vampire, right. Yup. Totes. ‘Cause that was why they came to this place. That made a whole lotta sense. Not that it would’ve been the first time someone thanked her for kissing them. She was nothing if not a pro at her craft. Jade waited patiently for Regan to cave again, she even asked silently, her eyes hopeful. But Regan wanted to go back to the body, apparently. “What?” Jade didn’t bother hiding her disappointment. And actually? Nope, screw that, she was having none of it. Like, the body was already dead anyway, why did he have to cockblock them? Regan fumbled in search of her phone at least, which told Jade her mind might be elsewhere too. That she didn’t want to sweep this under a rug. Right? She moved into her space again, testing the waters. (Good, no pushback). Her hand grasped Regan’s wrist firmly, preventing her from pulling the phone. She hoped Regan saw the intention behind her piercing gaze, hoped she’d stop her if this wasn’t what she wanted. But all she saw was her own intensity shining back at her. Jade felt like she was inside Regan’s head for a second, nothing standing between them. No commitments, or soul-crushing duties, or unattainable expectations or… Just them, seeing each other completely in that moment. Yes.

Normally impulse would’ve taken over. In fact, the only reason it hadn’t yet was ‘cause she was still a little ‘shook’. (Regan kissed her?). But her body hummed, warmth spreading in her chest, down her abdomen as Regan’s stuttered exhales brushed against her skin again, so keen for more. If this was the only chance Jade got to do this, she wanted to get it right. Be memorable. Give Regan a little something to remember her by while she played with her dumb sheep and… whatever else she was gonna do back in Ireland. (It was whatever, she didn’t even care). She closed the small distance Regan had put between them, taking her time. Building up that glorious tension again. She was good at this after all, even if she was almost caught off guard the first time. Her nose brushed against Regan’s, savoring the proximity even if all their lips did was skim over each other. She held off a little longer, ready to reward Regan for her patience. Jade let go of the wrist she’d been grasping, gently redirecting the hand to her waist, inviting her to touch. She let out a pleased sigh against Regan’s skin when fingers curved around her body. And wasn’t her body so much nicer to hold than a Blackberry anyway?

Jade reached for Regan’s face this time, pulling her into the warmth of her mouth. They fell into a different rhythm, slow, blissful. And so sweet. It was wandering fingers, teasing fingertips that had no goal other than to trace delicate patterns along Regan’s jaw, down her neck. Learning, exploring. Her heart softened at the sweet, small puffs of air that hit her lips. Too loving, too tender. She took her time, encouraging Regan’s impatient bouts of boldness with tiny sighs, her body bowing toward Regan’s every time she squeezed her waist just right, shivering under the attention. (But also ‘cause it was like, super chilly and she didn’t bring a jacket, so). It came to a natural end, until there was nothing but the lovely sensation of their lips barely grazing, extending the moment, unwilling to break the magic.

She pulled away, though not entirely. She couldn’t. Her forehead touched Regan’s, nose pressed to her cheek, and she felt the faint flutter of eyelashes against her. A pause. She couldn’t breathe. Not ‘cause… well, yeah ‘cause of the kiss, but mostly ‘cause it was overwhelming to be so completely surrounded by Regan. Her hair, her smell, her touch. This was so, so, bad for them. But like, so, so good for everyone who already thought they were lovers anyway. They were really onto something. (And she was vindicated too, knowing she called their chemistry from day one). It should’ve been over. They should’ve stopped and Jade would’ve been fine with it (well, eh). Correction: She would’ve accepted it. ‘Cause two incredible kisses were far more than she ever expected. Except… neither of them was succeeding at the whole cooling down thing or made any effort to actually let go. If anything, the way they were trying to catch their breath against each other was kinda sorta doing something to her. She wasn’t sure who made the move, if anyone did at all, or if they simply melted into each other. When their lips found each other again, it was urgent. This was her speed. Heated. As if she’d been given permission to be fully herself. No holding back. The dam broke, and she couldn't stop desire from spilling. She poured it all into the kiss. No thoughts, (head empty), only what her body wanted. No, no. There's been enough want already, this was pure need. And it was so nice to finally understand the difference. A throbbing that settled so deep and reached so far within her, she questioned how many times she had even felt something like it.

Her hands, so well-behaved before, started roaming. They touched like they had been tied down, deprived. Jade dragged them along Regan’s arms, to her ribcage. Waist to hips. Everywhere her lips couldn’t be. ‘Cause she was too busy kissing like she’d been starved. She was ravenous. Mouth opening wider, desperate to be closer, to taste more. Regan’s touch changed too. Was she aware? Was it unintentional? The weight. Almost like she was trying to hold on to her. It wasn’t exactly discouraging her advances. Jade answered with a hum at the back of her throat, her stomach coiling tighter. All she could hear was the blood pumping in her ears, and sighs that didn’t come from her mouth, bringing another swell of affection in her chest and a delicious pulse she felt building in her lower abdomen. Building fast and so, so good that…

She should pump the breaks. Soon. Cause Regan’s iron will? Bending under her touch. Pliant against her mouth. And it sure didn’t take Jade too much to get worked up, definitely not with the woman she’d craved for months kissing her like that. But this was a cemetery. A super nice one, mind you. She was positive there were like… beautiful private places, but that was so not the vision (And, yikes. She should NOT be entertaining the vision if the plan was to stop). Oh, and there was a body too, or something. Yup. A dead body they were standing above. Right! Having to break the kiss was definitely the worst thing she'd done since she fell victim to that weird mustache trend during her teenage years. (Possibly even the worst ever). But maybe she didn’t, maybe it was Regan who stopped them. The point was, that they were no longer kissing, and everything felt meaningless and empty. Oh, and her hand still fisted one of the collars of the coat, fingertips inches away from the zipper. (When did she get there?). She released it, smoothing out the fabric. Regan loved the stupid coat, she couldn’t ruin it.

“Body” Jade agreed, not even a little embarrassed by how affected her voice sounded. Like, Regan was right there too, she knew exactly what they got up to. It was her fault anyway. She closed her eyes, and it was so unhelpful, ‘cause all she saw and smelled and tasted was Regan. “The dead one. Mhm,” she was so good with words all the time. She licked her lips, fighting to muster a smidge of composure. Her brain was still vacationing elsewhere. She was so right, she called it so long ago. Not kissing Regan was going to be so much harder now that she knew what it felt like. And, was her heart ever going to stop thundering in her chest? Her gaze was fixed on Regan’s mouth. Still parted, inviting her to…nope. That was over. Done. Poor guy needed to go to the morgue. Yup. “Do your… thingy. I should um. I had a crossbow?” She nodded, intending to go over to Linda’s to pick it up. When her legs like, started working again. Boy, that ride back was going to be absolute torture, wasn’t it?

Regan grappled for her other pocket but the abruptness to Jade’s voice made her pause. What? “Jade, I – I really do need to –” The words came out low, breathy, and her stomach was already clenching with the lie about her priorities. Jade apparently did not want Regan to follow a kiss up with a phone call to the morgue, which was reasonable in an emotional, subjective sort of way, but just about all Regan could do to keep from kissing her again. And she couldn’t kiss Jade again because… because… her hand went limp as soon as Jade had her wrist. Her eyes snapped to Jade’s, which were shining, glowing – and insistent in a way Regan also felt all the way down to her knees. There were so many Jades – the bombastic, in-your-face flirt; the seasoned slayer; the little sister trying to keep up; the one who compartmentalized like she was born for it while Regan denied herself of the whole – but this was her Jade, the one who brought all of the others together and the one who seemed to see right into her, every time. Jade’s intention was clear. And Regan’s attempt to do something else was just too damn flimsy; if her willpower crumbled in such a landslide before, this feeble attempt to make a phone call never stood a chance. “I guess he can wait a few minutes. It’s cold out. His rate of decomp is–”

She barely got the words out before swooping right back to Jade like they were re-articulating bones. Death’s fingers raked through her, too, and Regan’s stomach grew hot with need. Or bile. That had to be bile. Tangy citrus tickled her nose and Jade was so close, right up against her, booping (right?), and Regan knew they had reached some point of no return. Chinniúint, this was just like in Brokenspine Hill, except they were hovering over a human instead of a dead cow, and Jade smoldered in comparison to Regan’s old neighbor, Mildew, who played –

Oh. Regan’s hand was guided around Jade’s waist and perched itself there – uneasy at first, but then more confident as her lips grew bolder, too. They met Jade’s again, warm and ready, and this time with less surprise, which made way for her curiosity. And she had plenty. Jade was surprisingly soft and gentle, letting Regan set the pace – a kindness for how long it had been. Probing turned to exploration and soon she was urging Jade for more. More softness, more sweetness – more than Regan had ever expected from her – and more of what she knew Jade was holding back. One hand dipped behind Jade’s ear, her thumb tracing over the perfect scar above her eyebrow, learning it by touch. Had that been from a – later. As if she could formulate a question right now, with Jade shivering and sighing against her. She had also wanted to ask if Jade was cold – either as a consequence of her own fashion choices or Regan’s lips – but that was impossible, too. It would have meant pulling herself away. And that thought made her grip on Jade’s waist tighten, as Jade’s warm fingers peppered and stroked her chin, her jaw. The only complaint from Regan’s lungs was a mechanical need for more oxygen, but suffocation didn’t seem so bad, when the alternative was parting.

But flesh had its limits. She needed to catch her breath. Her lungs were behaving now, but they could be temperamental. Achingly, agonizingly, Regan broke the kiss, but her hands remained where they were, one hooked around Jade’s waist, the other tangled up near her temple, and her eyes only fluttered open long enough to appreciate the spores glowing across Jade’s rosy cheeks… and the spark in her eyes like she had something to prove. Hadn’t she already proved it? Evidence was collected. Major deviations were committed (did each kiss need to be filed separately, in this hypothetical?). No, Jade always had something more to prove.

Regan could picture her own death certificate. Cause of death: asphyxiation due to obstruction. Manner… well, she wasn’t sure this would be homicide. This was her fault. She started it. Mechanism: abandonment of duty. Her thoughts started to spin more, caught between sheer exhilaration, the right-there-ness of Jade in her hands, and the lingering, nagging responsibilities that tethered her to reality. There were implications to this, consequences. So many they could pile up and asphyxiate her all on their own. But her gaze rested on Jade, tracing the outline of her lips, still tingling from the contact, and regret was so far away – across the sea, even, in Ireland.

“Finally,” Regan breathed into Jade’s cheek, staying close, “I thought death might take one of us first. Not that I wouldn’t cherish your bones.” She hadn’t yet gathered three heartbeats before she dove back into Jade. There were no objections. Jade practically exploded in her direction, months of tension spilling over, and Regan could just barely contain it. No one had ever kissed her like this before – or at least, no one had ever been this good at it. Jade was greedy with her touch and Regan allowed it, relished in it, leaning into the warmth of her palms, even as they dipped below her lumbar, cupping her for insurance, but never staying in one place for long.

There should have been something in her lungs, vibrating her breath, clawing up her throat. The scream was always waiting for moments like this. Weakness. Aneurysms ready to burst. But there was nothing. Where she expected a rattling in her skull there was only the rush of her own blood pushing past her ears and pitiful sounds trying to escape out of her body. How was that possible? Her control wasn’t that good, was it? Jade’s hand slipped down around her back, mingling with the vibrations gifted by death itself, and Regan whimpered into her mouth. No. Not that good. Cliodhna always told her that – no, not right now. She should have cared more, puzzled through what it meant. Her mind was doing anything but thinking, though. Her train of thought crashed and her hand disappeared underneath Jade’s jacket, fingers bunching around her shirt as she reeled her in. Jade had moved so swiftly before, vaulting herself over headstones, sprinting across the cemetery, and Regan needed to feel those muscles against her own. She pressed herself close, closer, her breath more frantic, knuckles curling into cloth, then hand roving up still, underneath, fingers trailing the lace of Jade’s bra. Was the musty earth of a cemetery really so hard, so objectionable? Would Jade let her –

Her eyes rolled back in her skull, closed, and she was pretty sure at some point she’d given them up to the asfís bháis, since she could hear the dead pulsing between Jade’s breaths. Or maybe that was the tattered remains of her conscience reminding herself about the cadaver at their feet. The one Jade saved like a knightess in leather armor and shining spores. Down, where she wanted the both of them. Well, not right next to – Jade’s hands circled around her back again, her shoulders, exactly where –

A shudder ran through Regan, common sense pouring in but riding on a wave of what was surely pleasure, however little she recognized it now. She righted her eyes, her senses. Fuck. Her fingers jumped – cruelly – from Jade’s breasts to her necklace, as if checking it was still there, secured. Of course it was. Regan swallowed her own panting breath, gulping it back like she could deny it existed, deny that it tasted like Jade. Her shoulders heaved and, oriented to time and place now, she watched Jade’s hand flick to her coat. For a second, she thought Jade might have been about to rip the coat right off her body (please)… but she gave it a pat instead, straightening it out, like puffer jackets could even show creases. She hated that stupid coat.

And then quiet, stillness. Regan’s eyes grew wide at Jade’s, which looked so incredibly, deeply pleased, but not content. Jade’s moonlit lips were also still slightly parted, a question or perhaps an invitation waiting to be answered. She had obviously been suppressing rational thought, too, and now they both waited for something to be said that could make any of what just happened okay. Neither of them moved away from each other, but some hold had been broken. Regan’s heart raced alongside her increasingly frenetic thoughts, breaths still heavy, with the chill of the cemetery air starting to settle in around her now that she wasn’t wrapped around Jade… and so many questions. What had they done? With each breath, it sunk in a little more, and she backed away from Jade like a ghost.

The buzz of Jade on her skin slowly faded, and what remained was from the body. Doubt clawed at her mind, uncertainty flickering behind her usual steeliness. It wasn’t about the kiss, not really. That had been – no, the act itself was not the mistake. She would never tell Jade she was a mistake. It was the admission that came with it. Wanting, feeling, and acknowledging something that she had worked so hard to snuff out. “I—” Regan started, her voice small and uncertain, grappling for some edge that wasn’t there. She hesitated, the weight of the implications pressing down on her chest. “Chinniúint, I was not supposed to do that,” she finally said, the words escaping. And then, “I did that.” And then, “What am I going to do? What do I – what are we going to – oh no, bás glac chugam, I can’t – I don’t know what this means. What was this? I should know. I was the one who – damn it.” The pleading look she gave Jade died with the realization that there was no clear path forward.

So much for Jade relying on her to push back any advances. Finally, she had said, realizing the moment had betrayed her thoughts. Too late to pretend this hadn’t crossed her mind once or a dozen times. Leaving it to her had been a terrible plan to begin with. Regan usually failed. Maybe she hadn’t been clear enough to Jade that she was, in fact, not especially good at any of this – she was like forgotten meat that had already thawed out and needed to be crammed back into the freezer; it would never be as good as what had not been left out to begin with, half-rotten and infested. For years, she'd sheared away emotion and grafted herself into a tool devoid of feeling anything, wanting anything. Her duty demanded that she shed all vestiges of sentiment no matter how deeply under the skin they scurried, burying any inkling of warmth. Banshees were cold. Death chose her, and she was supposed to meet it with a heart chillier than the morgue’s storage. What was it all for, then? The asceticism, the pain, the self-annihilation? Primum non nocere was in jeopardy. Regan wanted Jade. She wanted to stay here. She wanted friends. She wanted to be a person. She wanted.

The very thought of it made her stomach swirl, nausea creeping up. What was she going to say to her grandmother? Nothing. She’d say nothing. But Cliodhna would know. And with a heart so full as hers, how long would it take to bleed it out again? How many incisions must there be? If it took not even a year to unspool 7 years of training, how many more years would be necessary to cauterize her mistakes? Her breathing picked up again, this time spiked with raw, exposed panic. She didn’t know what to say to Jade; she didn’t even know what to say to herself. So she defaulted to what she did know, really clung to it – the concrete, her duty, what needed to be done.

Regan’s hand twitched, almost reaching out to touch Jade’s arm from what now seemed like a great distance, before she stopped herself. She swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the situation bear down on her – and still tasting Jade. “I should… I need to call the office,” she stammered, breaking the uncomfortable silence, her voice strained. “Your crossbow. Right, of course. It’s, uh, somewhere. Over near Linda. Somewhere over there.” Except she didn’t want Jade to go anywhere. But – “I will be a minute.” Regan fumbled for her phone again, but her fingers were stiff and the air was so heavy it was like being buried down below the graves. And her hair was in her eyes. She couldn’t see the number pad. Why was – stupid.

Dialing the number felt like a futile attempt to regain some semblance of normalcy. It also took too long to ring. Finally, Marcy’s sweet voice offered salvation. Or it was sweet, until Marcy so helpfully pointed out that Regan’s voice was trembling. Poor reception, Regan explained. “Yes, I know it’s a long drive up here. They need to come quickly.” How quick? Regan grew testy. “Immediately. Twenty minutes ago. What? Two hours? No. Absolutely not. There is a body… um, emergency.” She could hear Marcy smile from over the phone, miles away, and she hated it. She knew. She probably knew as soon as it happened. Regan made a mental note to check herself for tracking devices. Jade, of course, was back as soon as the words “body emergency” had left Regan’s mouth, and the knowingness that bled across her face was worthy of a frame on her desk, along with the ulcers.

Well, that didn’t help smooth out any tension. Regan hung up with a groan and the phone slipped from her hands. It arced right between her feet and into the decedent’s face, resulting in a squelching noise. Regan’s jaw fell open. Again. Different reason this time, though. She lowered herself concussion-fast and snatched the phone out of the dead man’s face, where it had made a rectangular dent in his delicate flesh. Some of the keys left imprints. “I’m sorry,” She yelped, though of course, a corpse could not hear her. Fates, what was wrong with her? How could she let this happen? How could she let any of this happen? Failure burned inside of her but somehow, when she looked at Jade again, it crackled into something that was so painful it circled right back around, her deficiencies becoming defiance.

“Two hours,” she told the dead man, wincing down at the way his skin puckered around the fresh injury. “And don’t give me that look. She saved you, you know.”

#writing #c jade #wrspice

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kyber-crystal · 2 years

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under the midnight sky || bradley “rooster” bradshaw

summary: in which falling into him was second nature to you. it comes to you as easily as flying: calmly, quietly, and steadily. he’s always been your safe haven, until the day you became his. aka 5 times you needed rooster, and 1 time rooster needed you

words: ~0.9k

warnings: brief mentions of violence and angst. nothing serious tho

a/n: also originally a star wars oneshot, but i thought the concept fit rooster rly well so here we are. i adopted a completely new type of writing style for this. it felt different while i was writing it, lmk what you thought : ‘)

i. i’ll be your soldier

He holds you as you fall asleep. Sweet nothings murmured into your ear and willing the bad dreams away; strong arms wrapped around you to calm you down. Not a word said between the two of you, yet the silence communicated more than you’d ever be able to.

From that moment forward, Bradley Bradshaw becomes your safe haven.

ii. my medicine, you’re like a drug

You’re injured, but your brain doesn’t register the fact until long after you touch down. He refuses to let anyone near you and decides to carry you himself. To him, you’re like the most precious ore found in the deepest corners of the earth.

Over and over, you keep denying to Rooster that you need medical attention. You insist that you’ll be fine on your own—you always have been. But one small grimace, one flinch, gives it away, and you give in to his touch. “Sweetheart, let me help.”

You close your eyes, and almost as soon as his gentle hands meet your skin, the pain washes away.

iii. flying with your ghost

You’re a pilot. You control the skies. You're in the top 1% of all naval aviators in the country. You’ve seen far more things than anyone should have to in their lifetime.

It’s hardly registering in your brain that you smell like smoke. Streaks of ash mix with salty tears that slip down your cheeks. So much destruction—it was a miracle that you were standing here today. There was only so much we could do. The same mantra plays over and over and over like a broken record in your mind. What if you had been a second later? You could’ve cost everyone their lives.

Nobody told you that guilt could feel so heavy.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he whispers as he pulls you against his chest. You fight to let go and run away but he doesn’t let you, and instead, he holds on even tighter. Bradley Bradshaw has lost too many important people in his life—Goose, Carole, himself—so God forbid if he allows you to slip away. He’s not letting history repeat itself a fourth time.

As time goes by, you relax into him. You turn around and bury your face into his chest, and cling to him like he’s all that’s keeping you tethered to the earth.

iv. at least we’re under the same sky

It’s a lonely night tonight. The skies are clear, but Miramar's light pollution won't let you see any constellations up above. You tilt your head back and inhale and exhale slowly. Relaxation seemed so hard to come by nowadays that you gave up on looking for it.

You find yourself longing for him. He makes you feel something that you can’t seem to put a finger on, but whatever it is, it brings you peace. And that’s more than you could ever ask for.

Minutes later, someone slips out onto the back porch and approaches you.

“I thought you needed me,” Rooster explains. He gives you a small smile and the gesture lights up your world. He holds his arms out to you and you step towards him; into his embrace. Your chest warms up and you finally feel like you can breathe again.

v. wipe my tears away

You’re sobbing uncontrollably and Rooster's heart breaks as he watches you cry, beyond worn out and shattered. His heart breaks as you crumble into yourself, as he tries to keep up with you and wipe your tears away. Careful and controlled, but frantic at the same time. All he can think about is how many times has she broken down like this when I wasn’t here? With Ice now gone, he was the only thing you had left.

He's supposed to be your protector; to look out for you and care for you and make sure you’re always fulfilled. He knows he failed you this time, and for that, he feels beyond guilty. He then realizes just how much you care for him. He came back alive and well, yet you’re crumbling to pieces right here and now.

You’ve never said it out loud, but you cared. You always have.

“Hold me—please, Roos, hold me—”

He doesn’t waste another second in rushing towards you and gathering you into his arms.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

vi. 내 상한 마음을 고쳐줘 (fix my broken heart)

There’s a storm outside, and you both stand there there like you don’t notice.

If Rooster stares closely enough, he could make out a thin halo around your head. Like he does to you, you bring him peace like no other and under the moonlight and pouring rain you almost look holy. The altar of your presence would bring him to his knees.

“I missed you, you know,” he says quietly.

You know that’s not what he means in the literal sense. You see each other every day; you’re his wingwoman and you're joined at the hip. But you understand what he actually means right away.

“I missed you, too.”

He turns to face you, and your heart wants to soar and shatter at the same time. There’s an unspoken longing in his eyes and you feel pulled towards it. You take a step towards him, then another, until there’s no space left to go.

You circle your arms around him and hold him like he’s done so many times before. This time, you hope, he’ll finally get the happy ending he so desperately deserves.

“I love you,” he hums into the crook of your neck.

“I know.”

tags, including people who may be interested: @walkonthewiidside @sarcastic-sourwolf @totomoshi @sebastianstangirl01 @altheadarling @purelyfiction @93joons @lunamoonbby @hazelgirl355 @multifandom-fangirl4 @paintballkid711 @lyn-lc @azari-anna @thelifeofthelifeofme @spawn0fsatan @milestomaverick @teacactusworld @icemansgirl1999 @cherry-waved @cosm1cfae @ellabellabus07 @vitanileon @criminalyetminimal @whatlovegattado @kodzuvia @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @queenbbarnes @yeehawnana @purelyfiction @marrianena @t-stark35 @thesunsetphantoms @danirose-0420 @callalily2000 @3ddiemyl0ve @the-untamed-soul @callsignsmaverick @sashayazie @shizzybarnaclee @bananaa @luvfurdogs @shalaniela @unordinare @and-claudia @organabanks @rentskenobi @lgg5989 @unstablecaffeinatedmind @katiemcrae

#top gun #top gun: maverick #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun fanfic #top gun fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw x reader #miles teller #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw x y/n #top gun maverick fic

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fashionchik91 · 8 months

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Spiritual Connection

“Mama…” Sarada hurried down the hall towards her mother, hoping to learn the truth.

“Sarada, what’s wrong!” Sakura asked as she entered her chamber in the palace. She has been doing research so she could help Sasuke from afar. He was traveling through the realms in searching for clues of the threats of Otsutsuki that still lingered after fighting them years before.

“Does papa, love us?”

“Of course, he does, he is just doing important work for the emperor. Our feelings are connected no matter what realm we are in. We always find out way back to each other.” Sakura kneeled in front of her daughter. “You don’t need to worry, your father…Sasuke.” She rose to her feet when she saw her husband behind her daughter, clenching a wound on his side. His blood dripping onto the palace floor.

“Sakura, get the…” Sakura hurried forwards and caught Sasuke before he collapsed. His blood staining her pink dress.

“Papa!” Sarada cried, not expecting to see her father in such a state. He was strong, unbreakable, not someone who would injure easily. What could have happened?

“Sarada, please go find Naruto and inform him of your fathers return. Tell him I brought him to the infirmary.” Sakura placed a hand on Sasuke’s cheek, he was running a high fever, hoping she would be able to save him in time.

Sarada raced down the hall, towards the throne room, in search of the emperor, tears streaming down her face. She came to a stop when she spotted Mitsuki holding Boruto back.

“Why can’t I see my stupid old man!” Boruto yelled.

“He is in an important meeting and…” Shikamaru eyes darted to Sarada who stood behind the two boys, tears in her eyes. He knew something must have happened for Sarada to be in such a distressed state. “What is it?”

Boruto and Mitsuki turned and saw Sarada standing there, wondering what has happened.

“Papa, he is back, but…”

The doors to the throne room suddenly opened, Naruto emerged, ignoring the elders scolding him from ending their meeting so abruptly. He raised an eyebrow when he saw the crowd outside, wondering what had happened. Was this because of Sasuke? He had sensed his magic not too long ago, it was weak, almost like it was dying out.

“Uncl…” Sarada spot herself from calling the emperor Uncle. She was in the presence of many important people and could not show her close relationship to the king. The Arcane High Council disappointed when they learned of the union between the Magician and the Priestess, they returned from traveling the realms with a child, but not any child, theirs. That it was frowned upon that two powerful beings would have a forbidden affair. Not asking the High Council if they could marry. The Arcane’s were protectors of the realms. Their jobs extremely important to make sure their world remains in balance.

“Sarada, is everything alright?” Naruto asked.

“Papa, he came back hurt…” Sarada looked at Uncle Naruto. “He…”

“Don’t worry I am sure Sakura-chan will heal him up.” Naruto smiled brightly, “Why don’t you run along with Boruto and Mitsuki.” Naruto looked at the kids, he knew that visiting Sakura and Sasuke too soon would not be wise. They have not seen each other in months, knowing how they are, they will not be able to keep their hands off each other.

“But…”

“No, buts, run along you three.”

“How long should we wait?” Shikamaru asked as he looked at Naruto with his arms crossed.

“Give them a half hour.”

— 🔞content under the more…

Sasuke looked at his wife as he watched her heal his injuries. The green glow of her magic brought him comfort as he sat on the bed, stripped of his robes, his chest bare. “Sakura…”

“You idiot, how can you be so careless.”

“I was caught off guard, I am sorry, Tsuma.” Sasuke took Sakura’s hand in his, intertwining their hands. “Tsuma…” Sasuke frowned knowing she was upset with him; she would not look him in the eyes. He hated when Sakura avoided his gaze. Sasuke yanked on her arm pulling her into his lap. “What must I do to make it up to you?”

A blush formed on Sakura’s face when she thought of their time exploring the realms, searching for the great threat that made their world unbalanced. How Sarada was conceived in the middle of the Dark Forest, not being able to keep their hands to themselves.

“Hn, so that is it.” A smirk formed on his lips.

Sakura felt Sasuke’s hot breath against her neck. She could feel the erection growing in his pants, it has been months since they have engaged in such activities. “Tell me Sakura, tell me what you want.” He began to bunch up the fabric of her dress, his hand roaming up her thigh as his licked up her collarbone, nibbling on her ear.

Sakura whispered at his touch, not sure how much longer she could last before the engaged into forbidden territory once again. They may be married, but the Arcane High Council still did not see their marriage as legitimate, not like they cared. Their feels were connected. Sarada existed because of their love.

“You, inside me.” Sakura yanked on his waistband, releasing his swollen erection.

“Ahh..” Sasuke watched his wife straddle his waist, allowing her to take control, he was still far to tired to dominate her, to compel her to do what he wants.

Sakura pushed the fabric of her cloth core aside, positioning Sasuke’s hard cock at her entrance, slowly lowering herself on his long hard length, allowing him to fill her up. She rocked herself against Sasuke dick, grinding against his hips. A wave of ecstasy overtook her, shot through her body as he trusted upwards. She felt Sasuke’s arms wrap around her waist, pressing her against his muscular chest, his lips capturing hers.

Sakura lifted her hips off Sasuke’s, slowly lowering herself on his length once again, she began to increase her speed, pounding progressively faster and harder on Sasuke’s dick, she knew she would not be able to last much longer, her orgasm came quickly, sending her to cloud nine as she reached her climate, her body oozing with warmth as he filled her up with his seeds.

Sasuke pressed his forehead against Sakura, “I have missed you Tsuma.”

“I have missed you to Anata, we should make ourselves decent before our loud-mouthed friend burst through those doors.” Sakura was about to pull away, but Sasuke’s grip tightens around her waist, his cock still inside her, twitching, hoping for more. “Sasuke, we can have our fun later, I promise, I will let you compel me, to use those eyes on me to make me yours.”

“Hn.” Sasuke loosens his grip around Sakura, allowing his wife to be presentable when Naruto arrives. He tucks his dick back into his pants, leaning back on the headboard of the hospital bed. “How is Sarada?’

“Happy now here Papa is home.” Sakura smiled as the door to the infirmary opened, Naruto and Shikamaru entered the room.

“Teme, I hear you have information for me.” Naruto asked as he watched Sasuke reached into his pack on the ground.

“I found ruminates of the Otsutsuki, in the ice dimension where Ōtsutsuki Castle is located. I am unable to read the content of the scroll with my Rinnegan, the information is encrypted and needs to be deciphered.”

“I see, we will send this to the Cipher team.” Naruto pocketed the scroll and looked between Sakura and Sasuke, her noticed a bruise forming on Sakura’s neck, “You should rest and enjoy some time with your family.”

“I will, it is nice to be home, even if it is for a little while.” Sasuke knew once the information was decoded, he would have to embark on a journey through the realms once more.

#sasusaku #sakura and sasuke #pro sasusaku #sarada uchiha

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sachiko1309 · 11 months

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The good old Doc - Part 6

Missed the start? No problem, here is the first part, the following ones are always linked at the end, so you dont have to search endlessly. 😉

Summary: Lieutenant Lilith Adams enlisted back in the military, only to be met with a certain cocky pilot. Overcoming certain past traumas, she tries to fit in with the team of pilots as their personal medic. Soon finding her stuck between a certain good looking aviator and her work morals.

This is a series which is currently in the making, so I don’t exactly know how long it is going to be. 😊

Word count: 3326

Warnings: none

Blinking several times, I answered: “Yes.” That simple word earned me my first flying lesson with Hangman. Okay maybe me being twirled around by him, doesn’t truly count, but who cares? “Thank you so much, darlin. You have no idea how happy that just made me.” Carefully he let me down, still smiling like a little kid, who just got an ice cream cone. “So, whats your plan, Hangman?” I asked, walking around him and inspecting the bags he got. He scratched his head and suddenly the cheeky, smug Hangman was gone. “I… uh… I don’t know. I don’t really do dates.”

“You have never been on a date?” Surprised I looked up. “I thought someone like you could easily line up a good bunch of honest girls.” He looked away, a slight blush creeping up on his cheeks. “No, not the kind of dates, I would like to take you on. Not really. Hook ups yes, that’s no secret. But honestly… I am scared like hell to fuck up. You just… You kinda make me try nonetheless.”

I walked back over to him, wrapping my arms around his waist. “How about we go on a walk on the beach, get to know each other, and if things go well, we can meet the rest of the team in the hard deck later. There is nothing you need to be scared of. I mean, you already slept over and saw me having a break down. Worse thing that’s going to happen is you getting sunburned.” I added cockily, to lighten the mood. Jake smiling down at me at my determination, send butterflies through my stomach. “God, woman… I am supposed to be the one making you blush.”

“Still got time for that, Jakey.” I laughed, letting go of him. “And now serve me that breakfast, because I am about to faint from malnutrition.” He saluted, with a cocky smile on his face. Hangman was back. “On it, Ma’am.”

After breakfast we headed out in his car. Since I overslept hard it was already lunch time we managed to get to the beach. So, it being an early Friday afternoon, the beach was crowded like hell. But I didn’t mind. I was content in Jake walking next to me watching dogs chasing down some pigeons. We walked in silence for a while. Neither really knowing how to start a conversation. I took a deep breath, before taking his hand in mine. “How about we find a more peaceful place and sit down?”

He snapped his head around, feeling my hand in his, but then he smiled. “Okay.” He seemed out of breath, now frantically searching the beach. Using his height and appearance he steered us through the crowd, pulling me slightly behind him to cover me from any crashes. It took a while, but he found what he searched for a few yards down the beach. A group of big rocks were throwing some shade towards the ocean side. We sat down next to each other, watching the waves crash in.

“What brought you to the navy?” I asked, starting the conversation without any small talk. I wanted to get to know him. See the real Jake. He thought for a few moments, absently taking my hand in his, rubbing small circles on it. “You know, I was born and raised in Austin Texas. My family is kinda patriotic, so I grew up raised to be a gentleman, to be a protector of the weak. The step into the army wasn’t that far off. I don’t know why it turned out to be the navy, since I could have gone into the air force to fly planes, but something in me just drew me to the waters. How about you?”

“I got raised by Cyclone. I admire him, wanted to be like him. So, I enrolled, I tried the whole combat thing, turns out I care to much for people to willingly kill them. And being a medic in the navy is the next best thing to being like Cyclone.” I answered, smiling softly. “Do you think, there is a chance for me to ever get into a jet and fly?” Looking him straight in the eyes I waited for his answer.

“Don’t know. You are not trained to do this and I certainly do not wish to get my ass handed back to me by Admiral Simpson, because I took you.” He said, running a hand through his hair. “But you would take me, if he allowed you?” I pressed on, leaning forward and giving him puppy eyes. Sighting he gave in to my silent pleading. “Probably.”

“Yes!” I cheered. “That’s another thing I will be able to cross from my to do list.”

“You have a to do list?” He questioned, looking at me with curious eyes. “Whats on it?”

“A lot of stuff, actually. I managed to sail on different ships in the navy, flew with different planes. I also went skydiving shortly after my drop out, when my therapist recommended to do something, I was afraid of. I want to visit Europe and South America. Get my drivers license for a bike, run a marathon one day and since I saw you guys fly those jets, I want to sit in one, too.”

“That’s a lot.” He laughed, putting an arm around me. “Any chance I get to be a part of that list?” I cocked my head. “If you try hard enough. And if you convince Cyclone to let me fly in a f-18 with you.”

“Alright. I am a dead man.” He groaned, leaning back onto the rocks. I wasn’t listening to his complaints, fishing out my phone of my pocket. Dialing Cyclones number, I wore a wicked smile on my lips. “Cyclone? No I am alright… No you don’t need to come over… I actually have a question for you…” Next to me Jake turned white, shaking his head. I just winked and concentrated back on the call. “No… no its nothing drastic. Uh… well maybe… I wanna fly a jet…” Both men went silent. Jake visibly not breathing, while I imagined Cyclone to have a heart attack.

“Cyclone, you alright? No Jake did not talk me into this, he is actually trying to get me off that idea… But I want to and I trust him… So, you wanna tell me, you don’t trust your own men to handle their job?” I pulled the red card. The one thing that would always get to Cyclone. “Nah… I am not implying anything; I am just merely asking you for a favor. Please?” Waiting for a few seconds, I grabbed Jakes hand, nervously playing with his fingers.

“Oh my god, Thank you! Thank you so much!” I jumped up, ending the phone call. “Looks like we got the team another trainings flight scheduled.” I pulled Jake to his feet, hyperactively jumping around doing a little happy dance.

“Normally the thought of flying through the air at Mach speed terrifies people.” Jake pondered, but smiled at me with his adorable dimples showing. I started walking towards his truck: “Well, you should know by now, that I am far from normal.”

After we reached the base, I got send to change into one of the green suits the team wore when flying. Underneath I was wearing my gym clothes. Phoenix offered to help me get all the gear ready and safely on and when I walked out, I felt so powerful. The helm jammed under my arm. The vest with all the safety devices, air mask and stuff I didn’t know, neatly strapped to my upper body. Phoenix even snuck into the mens locker room stealing a second pair of Jakes Ray Ban sunglasses styled in the classic 80s pilot glasses.

“Motherfucking hell hole…” Rooster said, choking on the water he was just drinking. “Didn’t know you would be looking this good in gear.” I smiled at his words, looking for Jakes approval. He looked starstruck at my appearance, quickly gaining his stance back, when he noticed everyone was looking at him. “Are those my glasses?” Tilting my head, I put them on. “Nope, they are mine now.” Again, he surprised everyone with his next move. “Keep them, they look good on you.”

I followed the daggers to their jets. Jake was guiding me to a doule-seater F-18, which wasnt his. He helped me into the backseat and I was stunned how many monitors, switches, buttons and measure devices were in this little cockpit. “This is amazing.” I giggled, letting him strap on my helmet. Bob gave me two bags I was supposed to throw up into should I feel the need to. In that moment, Admiral Simpson walked into the hangar, resulting in everyone saluting. He walked right up to us, stopping in front of the wing, Jake was kneeling on, when he explained the different devices to me. Bob on the other side helping him out.

“Lieutenant Seresin.” Cyclone started. “I trust you with the life of my little girl, if anything happens to her up there, be assured your ass is out of the navy the moment you set foot back on earth.” I sighted, desperately trying to get a good look on the Admiral. I failed so I spoke to the monitors in front of me. “Stop treating me like I am your child. I can make my own decisions.” But none of the men reacted to me. Jake finally giving in to the stare off. “I will, Admiral.”

“Alright then. Your flight is scheduled for an hour, hard deck is 5000 ft. Your jets are unarmed, so the content of this flight is in your decision. I expect you to follow the rules and not go off crazy, because you got someone to impress.” He eyed Jake for a moment. “Have fun, come back safe. You are dismissed.”

I was smiling like a kid who just got told he could buy everything in a candy store. After Jake fasted my helmet and put my mask on, he chose the channel of our radios. Suddenly I could hear the rest of the team banter around.

“What you thinking? How much Gs is she going to survive without going out or throwing up?” I heard Coyote ask. Answering his question with another one, I said: “I don’t know. What level am I supposed to beat?” “Hello Wifey, scared?” Rooster jumped in giggling. “Not in a million years bird boy. I survived Afghanistan. How bad can a little plane flight be?” I shot back, earning several whistles.

In front of my Jake took place in his seat, letting the engines of the jet start. That was the signal for the others to follow up. One by one they started their engines and soon we were a line of four jets rolling towards the runway. Over the radio in my helmet, I heard Jake speak: “Hangman to range control. Entering runway. Confirm green range.”

“Hangman, range control. Green range is confirmed. Up and ready for takeoff.” A male voice I didn’t know answered. And that’s when Jake put the pedal to the metal. At least that’s what I assumed on the way my body got pressed into the seat. “Oh my fucking god.” I wheezed under the pressure. I heard Jake giggle. “That’s nothing, sweet cheeks. Wait till we get some Gs going for ya.” He sounded so happy in that moment and I couldn’t help but smile.

I felt the jet take off from the ground and it didn’t take me long to realize how slow we were actually going. The moment we reached 5000 ft Jake sped up. To my left and my right I saw the others line up next to us. I waved to Bob, who waved back. “Ready for some fun?” Rooster asked over the coms. “I was born ready, bird boy.” I answered, cockily. Definitely underestimating whats about to come. “You heard the woman, Hangman. Time to do some maneuvers. How about we show her what a dogfight is? You, Coyote and Payback being hunted down by me, Phoenix and Bob. We try to shoot you down and other way around. First one out, buys the first round in the hard deck.”

“You got yourself a deal, Rooster.” Jake answered, swerving his jet slightly to the left. “I say you guys change channels, since Lilith doesn’t now how to do it.”

“Done and out. May the better team win. You have 30 seconds to make some distance. After that, the game is on.” Rooster tapped himself out, giving me one last thumbs up. The second the others left our channel was the same second Jake started to really fly. Turning the planes nose upwards he sped up, Coyote and Payback right to our sides. I just sat back, concentrating to get my stomach back to normal. While the men suddenly changed their way of bantering to serious calls.

“Talk to me, Payback where are they?” Coyote asked.

“Last seen 7 o clock.” Payback answered.

I kind of got my stomach to behave long enough, to ask Jake a question. “Do you need me to give you calls, or what do you want me to do?” I earned a light chuckle through the coms. “Its alright, darlin. I usually fly alone with those two idiots as my wingmans, but if you want to you can give me positions on the enemy. Just try to keep it clean, clockwork system, don’t estimate, say what you see, or tell me you don’t know it. Otherwise hold on and try not to ruin my plane with your stomach contents.”

“Fuck you too, Bagman.” I said, flipping him off behind his head.

Looking around I searched for Phoenix, Bob and Rooster. “One on 8 coming from below.” I called out. “Other one right behind you, Hangman.” Payback added. “Breaking right.” Hangman said, abruptly steering the jet to the right diving under. That maneuver had me lifted of my seat. I felt my stomach being pushed upwards, when we dropped. Cursing under my breath I held on to the sides of the glass. With an incredible speed we flew past Rooster, forcing his plane to angle sideways and change course. Immediately Jake swerved his around, tail flopping over the nose. That move had me fighting hard to keep the vomit down, to the point where I could feel the soreness tickle in the back of my throat.

“Come here you little bastard.” Jake mumbled, tailgating Roosters plane.

“Phoenix on 11.” I said, my voice squeaky and horse.

“Coyote.” Jake called not saying anything further, fully focused on Rooster, who was flying like an absolute madman. Swerving left and right, high and low, while trying to get his plane behind us.

“On it.” I could see Coyote breaking left, doing a similar maneuver Jake just pulled seconds ago, but Phoenix was quicker, rolling hers to the right and slowing down hard.

A nose dive from Jake made me scream the first time I sat in the plane. Looking above my head, I could see Rooster rotating in sync with us toward the ground. His face was distorted from the pure force, mixed with determination. I felt sick, quickly ripping the mask off of my face and holding the bag in front of my mouth.

But luckily, I didn’t hurl. Because the second I was preparing for the worse, Jake and Rooster ripped their jets around and now we were facing upside down, flying away from each other, only for us to then tumble around and hunt after Rooster. I could just imagine what would have happened to my vomit, if it would have left my body in that moment.

“That was a mistake, Rooster.” Hangman breathed. And I could hear that he was also fighting the extreme forces pushing and pulling on our bodies.

I heard a loud beeping sound and a female voice in my helmet said. “Target locked.”

“Shot down, baby. Guess the first round is on Rooster.” Jake was knocking on the window of the plane, when we flew next to him, only to receive a middle finger. Then Roosters eyes went to me, and I probably looked like I greeted death, because he hand signaled something to Jake, I didn’t understand.

Instead, I heard the man in front of me speak through the radio. “Everything alright. Do we need to break off the flight?” Quickly pulling my mask over my mouth I answered with a dry raspy voice: “No, I am good. I just felt the need to puke and giving the stunt you just pulled I guess we got lucky I didn’t, because otherwise your cockpit might be ruined. And now I cant get the mask back on.”

“I am so sorry. I forgot you were there and flew like I normally would. I… Are you sure you are alright?” Instantly his voice changed from playful to completely caring.

“Just tell me how to put that mask on. If I am not mistaken, we need to get your wingman some help. He looks a little distressed over there.” I hummed, looking to my left, where Coyote was flying like an absolute crazy person, trying to get out of Phoenix tailgate.

Jake swerved his plane to the left, more careful this time, setting himself behind Phoenix, all while explaining how the helmet and mask worked: “Feel the right side of your helmet. There is a small lock. You need to push the strap of your mask through it until it clicks. Its opened from the lower front similar to the way the strap on the other side of the helm runs.” I did what he told me, now not needing to hold the mask in place anymore.

“Coyote, talk to me man.” Hangman groaned through the coms.

“I am alright for now, I need to get behind her, but she is good.” Coyotes strangled voice seeped through the radio. “And don’t you dare take that kill from me, Hangman.” He added.

“Alright.” Jake answered. “Time to run some tricks on the lady.” Setting himself next to Coyote he waved over to him. “Break each side, do a barrel roll and then the Maverick pull behind her, while I roll over her to stop her from swerving.”

“Understood.” Coyote answered. And without another word the two pilots just dropped. Or in Jakes case flew higher, rolling over Phoenix, until we were able to watch them heads upside down.

I waved to Bob, smiling when I heard, Payback cheer inside my head at the confirmed kill. Suddenly all pilots were back in the same channel. “Holy shit man, that was some sick double up you got there.” Phoenix said, honesty lacing her words even though I could hear her disappointment of losing the game. “I am surprised your passenger didn’t throw up. I kinda bet on her vomit stealing parts of your sight.” That sentence got me laughing, finally able to relax a bit, when Jake turned his jet back around to fly next to her. “I am very competitive, Phoenix. It got close, but I managed.”

“Hell yeah, she flew like an ace. Even gave calls.” Payback backed me up, him and Coyote appearing to our left. Rooster set his plane to the furthest right adding in. “She even survived the twisting tumble we and Hangman pulled.”

“You did that with her in the backseat?” Bob asked looking at me with what I believed to make out as wide eyes. I smiled. “That one was the stunt that nearly got me to vomit, but yes he did.”

“Badass bitch.” Natasha mumbled in her microphone. “Well, I guess we can discuss that further back on base. Our time is running out and we need to head back.” With one swift move the four pilots turned their jets to the left, starting to drop lower.

#hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun hangman #fluff #top gun

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endlessnightlock · 1 year

Note

For horror prompts: 16. Vengeance (or) Unseelie Court

Vengeance

from 31 Horror Prompts

So, I've wanted to write a follow-up to Why Is The Window Open? for a long time. If you haven't read that story, this outtake won't make much sense to you. Reference to previous non-con, dub-con as well.

Adult subject matter/horror under the cut.

It’s taken Katniss a long time to shake off the trance formed by shock and despair she’s existed in since the night the angel of death, otherwise known as Peeta, took her away from the life she’d known and dropped her off on this mountaintop he called home. Not that she could have stayed in the village any longer. Peeta burnt down the meeting house and every cabin in the place, save one, to the ground. Her world turned upside down and dumped her out on the ground, pregnant with the spawn of the devil and forced to deal with the sick desire he awoke in her. Fatherless, motherless. A sister she would never see again.

For a while, she lost her mind. The events of that night were more than her fragile brain could handle. Memories of her father's unjust punishment at the hands of Snow. His death must've been horrible, torn limb from limb the way he certainly was. And the fire that burned her village and everyone in it to the ground.

Her captor and provider and protector is evil incarnate. Peeta is ruthless, cold, and unfeeling. He tells her he loves her but she knows he doesn't really. He doesn't know how to love. She simply fascinates him like a new toy. That's all.

But Peeta is all she has left. Without him holing her up on this mountaintop, she would be alone. Vulnerable, wandering through a world in which she's unequipped to survive alone.

It would be easier if she were alone, Katniss decides, placing her hand over the swell of her belly. She might even let the Walkers take her if it weren't for her child. Although that’s ridiculous. She could end her life just as easily by throwing herself down the mountainside. The rocks would be less painful than being eaten alive by zombies.

Except for Prim. And the Odairs, Katniss reminds herself. She's unsure why Peeta did that for her, sparing her sister and the only people in the village who refused to participate in her trial. It puzzles her, because it’s not enough to make her happy with him. He seems to care very little if she is happy. He still gets to have her, and willingly, because she is weak and above all craves something that makes her feel alive living with the harbinger of death.

She would like to tell herself she lies with him because he forces it on her, like the first time. Unfortunately, Katniss hasn’t learned how to lie to herself. When he looks at her that way, she goes to him, willing, eager for his touch.

If only she could sink into the oblivion sex provides, permanently. Remain blissfully unaware of what she’s become. Unfortunately that’s not possible. Now that she’s awake, she’s awake.

But lucidity has brought with it a renewed purpose. Revenge. Katniss doesn’t know how yet, but she will get back at Peeta for what he’s done to her. Her family. The world. She will destroy him and she will find great satisfaction in it.

She touches her stomach with the baby shifts inside her womb, a knee or foot or elbow seen moving beneath her tightly stretched skin. It won’t be much longer now. Once the child is born, then she will act.

This is the part that always trips her up. How? But there has to be something she can do to stop him.

“Katniss,” Peeta murmurs, distracting her from her thoughts. He’s standing before her, a skin tied at his waist and nothing more. She looks up into his deceptively-beautiful face, and forces a smile. The fluttering in her abdomen should be revulsion. They both know it’s not.

“Come here,” he says, taking her hands, pulling her to her feet. She watches, mesmerized, as he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, his thumbnail lightly trailing behind her earlobe, down further, settling between her breasts. “I want you.”

#endlessnightlock writes #katniss everdeen/peeta mellark #dub-con/non-con #horror #everlark fanfiction #she's a dark story folks #obviously this has spoilers for the original story lol

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jellicle-chants · 1 year

Text

Reconciliation

“W-what?” Algernonny’s eyes went wide, and Alonzo cursed himself internally. Of course his big mouth was going to ruin everything again.

Or: I wrote a little thing for Algie and Alonzo! They're just the cutest 🧡🤎💛

(If you want a visual reference for Algernonny, look no further than @the-cat-at-the-theatre-door's amazing work on him here!)

Algernonny stood, picking his crutch up from beside him. "Well, I should really be going. It was lovely meeting you both.”

"Oh, you're too kind," Jellylorum said. "I hope you will join us again for tea sometime soon, dear. You're always welcome here now, don't forget."

Alonzo stood as well, purposefully angling himself under the lowest edge of the ceiling so he had to stoop. "Yeah, I should probably get going as well. I've got important Protector things to do, you know."

"I'm sure that can wait, Alonzo.” She busied herself with the tea set, choosing to ignore the range of emotions currently playing out across her son’s face. “Why don’t you walk him home? Seeing as you're the one who brought this young man here in the first place."

“That's quite kind, ma'am, but I don't want to be taking up anyone's time—"

"No, mum, he's fine, just because you think—"

"Oh please, Alonzo, you and I both know you could really do with a friend—"

"If it's alright—I can just—"

Mum, I'm not a child, you don't need to set me up on playdates. "

"Well, I wouldn't have to if you stopped acting like one—"

"Mother, Algernonny and I are both adults, with our own lives, that we both really should be getting back to. On our own. Right, Algernonny?" He turned to the front of his mother's den, but no one was there. "I'm going after him," he announced, only held back by the feeling of Jellylorum's hand around his wrist.

"Don’t lose him now. And… be yourself. But be nice. And remember—”

“Alright, mum, I get it,” he said, pulling his hand away with a smile. “It’s in the bag.” He could hear her tutting at him as he ran off, but it didn’t faze him.

Algernonny, it seemed, hadn’t gone too far. He found him easily, sitting on a stack of old paint cans. He smiled as Alonzo came into view: it was a good-natured smile, if bashful, and Algernonny hid it away behind his shoulder as he stood up to follow him. Alonzo didn’t get that — if he had a smile as handsome as Algie’s, he would show it off any chance he could.

“Couldn’t get enough of me, eh?” he said, following his well-worn trail out of the Junkyard.

“You’re a funny cat, Alonzo.”

There was something in his tone of voice that he couldn’t quite place. “‘Funny’ how? You’re not jealous of me, are you?” He turned around to flash him a grin, but stopped when he noticed how serious Algernonny looked.

“Like that. Like how I can never tell whether you actually like me or not.” He leaned on his crutch and scratched behind his ear.

“Well, that’s something you’ll just have to find out.” Without warning, his next words slipped out of his mouth: “We can’t both be perfect, now can we.”

“W-what?” Algernonny’s eyes went wide, and Alonzo cursed himself internally. Of course his big mouth was going to ruin everything again.

“Look, it’s just— you meet my mother for five minutes, and she practically invites you into our home. You always know what to say, how to act; you’re not knocking over tea trays or misquoting Shakespeare. You’re taller than me, bigger — hell, we even look alike, but you’ve got something to show for how tough you are, unlike me.” Alonzo was practically red-faced at this point, but he didn’t know what else to do other than lay all his cards out on the table. “You’re… basically a better version of me.”

Algernonny just stood there for a second, looking at him with an unreadable expression on his face. Alonzo hoped it wasn’t pity.

“Do you really… think this makes me look tough?” He tapped the side of his leg with his crutch. “Usually I just think of it as a reminder of why I should stay somewhere safe, and not go out into the world. Because I can’t even protect myself.”

He started walking again, and Alonzo followed, catching up to his side. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up. It was unfair of me.”

“It’s alright,” he said, a smile sneaking back into his face. “I like that you think that. Really, I wish I could do all of the things you can: protecting the rest of the tribe, being responsible for them. I mean, you risked your life for me, and I was a complete stranger. I could never do something like that.”

“‘Was’ a stranger? What does that make us now, then? Friends?”

This time, Algie laughed out loud, and Alonzo’s heart jumped into his throat. “Sure, if you want. Let’s be friends.” He looked up at the buildings surrounding them, nodding to the one on his right. “Unfortunately, this is my stop.”

Alonzo managed to bite his tongue this time and stop from inviting himself inside. “Right.”

“Well, I hope I see you soon.”

“Feel free to come by the junkyard any time you like. For my mum’s sake, at least.”

He stopped on the threshold and turned around. “How about — would you come by here tomorrow? Then you can show me around yourself.”

“Great idea.” He grinned and winked at Algie, who hid a chuckle behind his hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

#my writing #cate's cats ocs #cats the musical oc #cats the musical fanfiction #alonzo cats #(this is golden!lonz btw)#featuring a completely normal number of em dashes

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gracifleur · 1 year

Text

“Rules”: repost with the information of your muse, including headcanons, etc. If you fail to achieve some of the facts, feel free to add some other of your own! When you’re done, tag 15 other people to do the same!

tagged by: @arvend the best, the one, the only, the legend. tagging: idk who did this bc i wasnt around so im tagging everyone my brain can think of. @vilestblood @redfabled @valorxdrive @volot @iruludavare( but for sarana @floaroanemoia ) @silverformed( also do it for mister bite chomp @koraichalcum ) @status-condition( uhhh spins the wheel syca.. more & also uhh gold. they wont the lottery today ) @deimantaimis( both boys ) @scarletooyoroi( ur here twice look at that ) @aachromaa @ironbundled @vastcourage & YOU IDK

B A S I C S

Name: Im Shea Age: eternally 15 Birthdate: 03/20 hisui era sinnoh Species: pkmn-human chimera hybrid created by arceus, mostly pkmn Gender: genderless, nonbinary to humans Orientation: aro-ace Profession / Titles: deity of gratitude, love pokemon, caretaker of the creation trio of sinnoh, protector of the lake legendaries, child of space-time, holy mighty hisui, arceus-boon, child of shaymin, keeper of flower paradise

P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S

Hair: a dusty pink of similar hue here, varied shoulder to midback length, often pulled back in ponytails or buns half or full. while it is thick it’s lightly wavy, more because of being tied back. but sits heavy. a hair pin that resembles a gracidea flower is always pinned somehow in her hair, it’s of a crystal appearance & is made of the same material that the orbs of the creation trio hold. Eyes: a green-blue mix, with a glowing yellow circle around the pupil. similar to this here. the colors of blue & green tend to shift mysteriously. shea however describes herself as having green eyes & pays attention to the shifting, the blue, or the yellow ring. Skin: a pale complexion despite how often she’s outside. yellow undertones & she tans easily. cool tones, not warm. Height: 5′4″ Weight: 135lbs -- muscle &chub

F A M I L Y

Siblings: dialga, palkia, giratina, technically all shaymin Parents: arceus, but shea does use volo’s name to fake paperwork. Any Pets? her pkmn. && shaymin sorta. listen,

S K I L L S

pkmn wrangling; the act of handling & calming down alpha or legendary pkmn. pkmn training. lockpicking. crafting. survival. camping & foraging. gardening. cooking, situational. being precious & adorable despite brattiness. problem solving. adaptability. athletic. idk i cant think of more rn shea’s a good skillful idiot

T R A I T S

STRENGTHS. compassionate. clever. courageous. dedicated. disciplined. empathetic. energetic. focused. friendly. grateful. hopeful. humorous. inquisitive. inspirational. leading. lovely. motivated. open-minded. outgoing. perseverant. persistent, like holy shit oh mygod persistent. resourceful. these are just skills. man im not putting more. WEAKNESSES. cocky little shit with an ego & a sassy mouth.

L I K E S

Colors: pink, greens. pastels. lavender. Smells: florals, earthy. petrichor. a forest right after rain. a garden after a light mist or in full bloom. Textures: clean linens. cotton. the softness of flower petals. Drinks: fizzy light refreshing sodas. tea, floral & sweet fruity & tart.

#( about / lore / headcanon. )#( tagged memes / dash games. )

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yoonia · 2 years

Note

HELLO I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW ABOUT LONG PAST DAWN, SUNSET GLOW, HUNTING SEASON, AND CALICO. THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME MY WIFE

KAT!! I'm literally laughing at Big Bird showing at my door!!!

Alright, let's start with the fic that I've been secretly writing:

➬ Title | Long Past Dawn

⤑ Genre | Digital Forensic/Cyber Crime Detective!Chanyeol, Hacker!reader

⤑ Summary | After years of following your trails and chasing your shadows, Chanyeol has learned every single one of your moves and has known how to find your signature hidden behind every single one of your action. For many years, you have also learned how to easily slip right between his fingers, and you have been enjoying the long game of cat and mouse that you have had with him. But the game takes its ugly turn when you cross paths with another who moves between the shadows like you do, one who has no qualms in using violence in doing his wicked deeds, and is now using your signature to cover up his own trails, turning all suspecting eyes on you. Cornered with no way out, you are left with no other choice but to turn to the stubborn detective who you have been running away from, the only man left who still believes in your innocence when everyone has turned on you. The only problem lies in the fact that in order to gain his trust, you are forced to come into the light, revealing the truth that you have been in close proximity to him the entire time.

I haven't made a summary of Sunset Glow, but I've roughly written the smut scene lol. This one will either be released as a pwp fic or a bonus drabble for Eternal Sunshine since I was thinking of Lawyer Hobi as I was writing this. Here's a quick snippet (that may change a lot once I continue writing this):

"Come here and let me help you,” he says, as he pulls you gently onto his lap. His bare chest feels warm against your back after basking in the sun for the past hour, yet it feels calming, allowing you to relax into his embrace, unknowingly awakening something else that is burning inside his chest.

Every good intention that he had when he first pulled you into the cabana quickly evaporates the moment your body moulds against him and relaxes under his touch. With one hand resting on your knee, Hoseok parts your legs, allowing him to slide his other hand to your center, slipping between your folds to find your swollen bud and capture it between his thumb and index finger.

Almost immediately, your head falls back to his shoulder while you let go of your inhibitions and release a few moans, responding to every circling motion he makes. Hoseok takes it all in, astounded at how easily he could entice the sounds you are making and the tremble surging down your body with just a simple touch right on your bundle of nerves.

➬ Hunting Season

⇢ Genre | Shifters!au, Werewolf!au, Werewolf!Hoseok, Hunter!reader, Angst, Smut

⇢ Summary | Hoseok has long given up any hope of finding his mate. Years of waiting, searching, and praying to the Moon Goddess had only proven that his fate has been written differently. While he witnesses his friends and family uniting with their fated mates, Hoseok continues to live in the moment. He still proves to the pack that he is their best protector and warrior, while he also proves to the world that he can be the best lover. His trysts are just as legendary as his prowess on the battlefield, and his nights are never lonely. Perhaps that is the reason why the Moon Goddess has chosen to give him the punishments he deserves, when she finally answers his prayers, letting him feel the mating sparks right at the same time doom was sent to his door.

For Calico, this is still a rough idea that I got after listening to Ian's song. The summary may change once I start working on this one.

➬ Title | Calico

⇢ Genre; Ratings | Smut, Exes to Lovers!au; 18+/Mature

⇢ Summary | Seeing you dancing in the other room makes him think about all the years that have gone past. Regrets overcome him when he remembers about the past, how the two of you had been in different places, and how he is grasping at straws today, hoping that you still feel the same. The moment you turn to look at him in the eyes, he begins to see all the years that he had lost, and it pulls him back to you, despite not knowing if you would still take him back.

WIP ask game

#wip ask game #fic: long past dawn #fic: hunting season #fic: calico #fic: sunset glow

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scarletooyoroi · 2 years

Note

Lumine sat quietly without answering for a bit, pulling her legs close to her chest and resting her chin on her knees.

"Signora..." She finally said. "I don't remember what happened honestly... I remember running after Sara... Challenging Signora..." She took a breath. "Then her death. I... Everything else is a blur."

Lumine bit her lip and pulled her legs closer. "I know what Signora did was bad, and what would have destabilized the country. And I was so angry! Just, burning! And Teppei!"

An old flame suddenly sprang to life and licked her heart once more as the face of her lost comrade in his final moments rose unwilling from the dark reassess of her mind. "He was not a nobody." Small sparks began to emit from her hair; small sharp things that danced in the air around her.

Lumine fell into silence once more, only deep breaths can be heard from the traveler before finally speaking again.

"But now... There's emptiness. Everything happened so fast! I defeated Signora and I finally got payback for Venti and Teppei, and everyone else... But then the Shogun started walking down, and she started panicking... An-and I- I couldn't move. It was so fast and so slow at the same time... I... I should have done something."

He remains quiet as they begin to draw out the extent of what festers in their heart. A position of listening, a respectful seat, all while the rare glimpse into the depths of what seethes within them like a plague is now settled before eyes and mind. Just feeling the rawness her presence generates, it reminds him all too clear of that vitriol that was developed during their moment of Inazuman war time. Where the fires that find themselves all too eager to devour any and all within equal measure.

Part of it clicks in that moment, and truthfully, a good part of the protector couldn’t blame how the searing, acidic feelings that fueled them spiraled with the intensity of those moments in that time.

To Thoma however, it sounds like Lumine lost herself in the depths of that very fury.

What else could’ve made those days where the Traveler sought nothing but solitude? Hardly eating? Wanting to socialize? Much less move as the weight of it all had to roll from her shoulders akin to ocean waves, time had to be taken. Back then he could remember the many times where that need to reach was often stopped by his confidants, saying how she needed those instances to process, to let terms come to be amidst that grueling pain. Part of the blonde however couldn’t help but challenge that with questions.

Should he have really left her alone in the midst of such a trial? As they speak about that emptiness that is all too familiar for many warriors within Inazuma, those that experienced the triumph and losses involving important figures and reason tucked in their lives, it makes a long look be offered to them within that moment. “Lumine.” Shifting within his seat, he’d come to face her properly, no longer paying attention to the dreary skies that could easily pose reminiscence to those very days.

“The path you walked is a dangerous one. The sort where many often never return from. Emptiness. You spoke of a fire, one that aims to eat you as eagerly as it eats the object of obsession. Wasn’t that the same concept embodying the Raiden Shogun you fought in that time?”

During that very day his Vision had also sparked with resonance, distinctly recalling that unification of the many brave souls of Inazuma, how a golden, sublime divinity find itself diving into the very emptiness that aimed to plague the Traveler in that time, allowing no acidic flame to roost in the heart that was capable of incredible things. No, in that moment, the warmth of powerful desires that held steadfast, intending to forge a better future would be the power that briefly brought the return of her wings.

“What I speak from here on is only my thoughts, and a desire for you to always be better. You did what you had to do at that time.. but, at that point, that wasn’t your real strength. Teppei and Venti, do you believe they really would want this vengeance at the price of what that could’ve made you?”

Thoma understands that he holds no proper quarter of speaking as if he was actually there. That in itself is folly, and blatant disregard to the Traveler’s emotions on the matter, yet, part of him feels that the risk of letting these things be heard is necessary.

“When you run the risk of losing ourselves, who you are, you’ve cultivated the valuable asset of people who will raise Teyvat’s great mountains who will come by your side.”

@travelerandclover

#travelerandclover #| Tucked Letters #he does feel honored she's willing to share this

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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BABY MAMA

A/N: woke up and just knew i needed to write about dad Harry, bc lets be honest, he is my fav. this fic is perfectly fine as a oneshot, but if you'd like, it could be a sequel to Grammy Winner Husband and Baby Grammy, i wrote things to line up with them!

PAIRING: Husband!Harry / Dad!Harry x Reader

WORD COUNT: 2k

masterlist

The arena is blowing up, the fans are screaming from the top of their lungs and Harry is putting out a show just as good as the previous ones have been. He is blowing the stage up, singing, dancing, joking around with the fans, enjoying this time he gets to spend with the people who got him to this point in his life. He’ll never be not grateful for what he has, what he is experiencing, no matter how hard this life can get sometimes.

“Dallas, how are you feeling tonight?” he asks in the mic as he walks back to his water bottle to have a few sips. The crowd erupts, the screams almost burst his eardrums, but he just chuckles, easing his thirst with some water before he returns to the microphone stand.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he teasingly asks, though the reaction is the same. Insane screaming. “Alright, let’s move this show on before you get bored,” he chuckles playfully, the band starts playing the next song and he is back at what he does the best. Performing.

Though not far from the arena, there’s someone who thinks there’s something he is even better at than performing. That person is you, and you’re one hundred percent sure Harry is best at being a father to your five months old son.

Owning the stage, putting out the utter best he can, Harry’s thoughts still wander away from the show he is supposed to be focusing on. He can’t help it, his instincts are just completely drawn to his baby in the hotel suit, dying to know how he is doing. Leaving for the show late afternoon was harder than usually, because baby Theo was having a fever and coughing quite badly. His heart was breaking that he couldn’t help his son, didn’t even know what could be done for such a tiny baby.

“Love, he’ll be alright, okay? The doctor is on the way, it’s gonna be fine,” you told him gently as he was cradling Theo to his naked chest, always so eager to be skin-to-skin with him. Harry kissed his soft little curls on top of his head before nodding, though you knew it was eating him away.

“Call me or Jeff if something happens, okay?” he told you, handing Theo over to you, who was finally asleep after fussing for hours.

“I will,” you nodded, but he cupped your face to make you look at him.

“Y/N, I mean it. I’ll come off the stage if—“

“You won’t come off the stage, Theo is gonna be fine, he just probably got a cold from the aircon at the greenroom in Denver. He’ll be here when you get back, okay?”

He knew this tone, this was your momma bear voice and he would never argue with you when you used it, so he just nodded, kissed you and then Theo’s chubby cheek before heading out.

Now as he is nearing the end of the show he can’t help but think about finally being back at the hotel with his wife and baby, though he won’t let it be seen how eager he is to get off the stage.

The last song passes, the whole arena blows up from the energy and he is throwing kisses everywhere as he heads off the stage, down the aisle that leads him backstage. As he puts on his mask he turns around one last time, throwing some more kisses around to his beloved fans before disappearing behind the curtains.

“Did she call?” he instantly asks Jeff instantly, who hands him his phone over, a text from you already waiting for him.

Doc just left, everything is fine, left some meds for bub. Love you Xx

Even though this is what you told him before too, he feels relieved that the doctor confirmed it, but he still can’t wait to see the two of you.

“Alright, get the car ready, I’m leaving in ten,” he tells Jeff.

“Got it,” he nods, not even daring to argue with him. He knows better than to stand between Harry and his baby.

His legs bounce nervously on his way back to the hotel and he jumps out of the car as if it was on fire, running inside in a rush. He swipes the keycard through the reader on the door and opens it quietly, scanning over the place for you and Theo and there you are, sitting in one of the armchairs with his sleeping son in your arms, your hand gently tapping on his bum. You must have just finished feeding him, because a rag is still thrown over your shoulder and your shirt is all wrinkled around your chest. Theo loves playing with the fabric while you breastfeeding him and Harry loves watching his tiny fingers grab onto it and massaging it aimlessly.

“Hey,” he breathes out, quietly pushing the door closed behind him before he walks over, kneeling in front of you. He kisses Theo’s forehead first, before pressing his lips to yours too. “How is bub feeling?”

“He is doing good. The doc gave him some meds for the fever and we have a syrup for the coughing. He said he’ll be fine in a few days,” you softly explain to him, nodding towards everything the doctor left you on the coffee table.

Harry grabs the bottles, inspecting them as if he knows anything about medicine and you can’t help but smile as he furrows his eyebrows, reading the packaging.

“Want to put him to bed?” you ask him, his head snapping up right away.

“Of course,” he nods eagerly. You both stand up and he carefully takes the little boy from your arms without waking him up. “Hey bubs, I missed you,” he coos at Theo and as you watch him sway with the sleeping baby, your heart could easily burst from just the sight of them.

You didn’t know what life would be like as a family of three. After Harry posted a picture of you with his Grammy award and your belly ready to pop, the whole world went crazy over the fact that Harry Styles is going to be a dad. Despite the buzz, you managed to stay hidden for the rest of your pregnancy and just three weeks after that post, Theodore Styles decided to come to the world. Harry cancelled everything for the first two months, it was just the three of you, showering in the joys of parenthood. You had all the ups and downs, but you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Then tour got rescheduled and Harry was hesitant whether it was a good idea to go on the road with a five months old.

“Sarah and Mitch are coming too, she gave birth a week after me,” you reasoned when Harry was about to cancel the whole tour. It took you some time to convince him that it’s gonna be fine, though you knew he would be extra cautious with Theo.

Now as you see him gently sway his way to the bassinet next to your bed, knowing that he just performed to thousands of people and now he is here with you and your son, you wouldn’t change it to some peace at home. Besides, you’re convinced tour is gonna do good for Theo, make him get used to people around him, not just the two of you or the grandparents and aunts. During the first night in Vegas, he barely spent an hour in your arms, everyone wanted a piece of him and you gladly let them befriend him, especially because he loves meeting new people, just like his daddy.

As Harry lays him into the bassinet and stands next to it with a lovesick smile on his face, you sneak behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He smells so fresh, he surely had a quick shower before heading back to the hotel, but you’re already planning to seduce him to join you for a quick shower as well. He won’t say no.

“Watched a livestream for a bit, you were so good,” you hum, kissing his right shoulder blade and you don’t miss how he leans back against you. “Loved the shimmery outfit.”

“Yeah?” he chuckles softly. Reaching around, he pulls you forwards so he can wrap you in his arms, kissing your forehead gently. “I missed seeing you dance at the side,” he smirks at you and you don’t miss the reference to the old times.

On his first solo tour, when you weren’t even married yet he often caught you dancing like crazy at the side of the stage, it would always make him laugh mid-song and you loved hearing his giggles through the mic, so you often did it on purpose. A few nights ago in Vegas you did the same, but with Theo in your arms, a massive ear protector on his head so the noise didn’t hurt him. When Harry spotted you, he almost started crying, he mouthed I love youand then carried on with the show.

“I’ll be there soon,” you smile at him, cupping his face in your hands to pull him down for a kiss that’s more than just a peck. “Now, I need help with something,” you mumble against his lips.

“Anything, baby.”

“I need you to help me shower,” you tell him cheekily. He pulls back and stares down at you with a playful grin, his hands already wandering under your shirt.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah, I need someone to wash my back and… maybe somewhere else,” you hum seductively and start pulling him towards the bathroom, peeking at Theo one last time, but he is sleeping so deep, the two of you can have some alone time.

“Alright, I could never deny anything from my favorite milf,” he grins, but you smack his chest with a gasp.

“Harry! I told you not to call me that!” you protest, the two of you walking into the bathroom not to bother the sleeping baby in the room. You start running the water right away so it can be nice and hot for you when you walk in.

“Why? You are a milf,” he smirks, so full of himself, already pulling his shirt over his head.

“Then you’re a dilf, just so you know.”

“Baby, my fans have been calling me that for years, even before Theo,” he chuckles softly.

“You were destined to be a dad,” you giggle, getting rid of your own clothes. “Hey, if Theo feels better tomorrow, we could maybe take a walk in that park we saw on the way here,” you suggest, but when no answer comes, you look at Harry and find him just standing there, fully naked, staring at you grinning widely. “What?” you ask, glancing down at your own naked body. Suddenly, you are way too aware of the weight you haven’t been able to lose after giving birth, the stretch marks on your waist and how you’re not at all freshly shaved. Just as you’d move your hands to cover yourself a bit, Harry grabs your wrists and stops you.

“You are so fucking gorgeous, baby,” he hums, dropping his head until his lips could reach yours.

“Stop being such a flirt,” you giggle, feeling your face heating up.

“It’s the truth! I have the prettiest baby mama and that’s a fact.”

He looks at you with so much love and adoration in those beautiful green eyes, it almost makes you cry, knowing that this man is your husband and you get to spend the rest of your life with him.

Wrapping your arms around his neck you kiss him hard, pulling him into the spacious walk in shower.

“Then come and get your baby mama wet,” you giggle against his lips, making him laugh with the ambiguous request as he shuts the glass door behind him, his lips hungrily kissing wherever he can reach and you’re pretty sure the hot water is not the only thing that’s steaming up the glass.

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #dad!harry

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thelampisaflashlight · 2 years

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As an orange sun rises through the trees, and the chill of October pulls back its teeth, abating its bite for this most beloved of occasions, I pull from the grave... a small haunting of ghoul headcanons.

Today, it involves their summonings.

Decided to change things up a little. Below the cut.

Aether: Quintessence ghouls are tricky creatures to pull from the depths, ever vigilant of threats, natural protectors of kith and kin... to tear one away from their pack, from their people, is nigh on impossible...

Unless they reach out to you instead.

For all his time in the pit, Aether never really forged any strong bonds with his fellow ghouls, and, for a creature born to bring others together, that really was quite lonely, so when he felt a tug from the surface, he happily allowed himself to be pulled along.

Nowadays, Aether is quite content with his little pack, and you’d never know the loneliness that drove him to the surface by the way he laughs and smiles at his friends, but you can see remnants of it in the way he frets and worries when they disappear from his sight.

Dewdrop: When you have a ritual down to a science, you may think yourself incapable of making mistakes... but the rites of old are written down for a reason.

For what excuse could you give for pulling a frightened water ghoul when you thought you had held fire in your hand?

Sister Imperator ceased efforts on the ghost project for nearly two months following Dew’s summoning in order to understand what had gone wrong... and to weed out those responsible. Normally, she would have also sent the poor creature back to the pit as well, but something about the strange “spark” in his eyes endeared him to her, and so Dew remained.

No one is quite certain how Sister Imperator encouraged the flames within a water ghoul to burn so brightly, but, nowadays you’d be hard pressed to see a trace of Dew’s original element beyond the steam that rolls off his skin like smoke.

Multi/Swiss: Sometimes, you call out to the devil, and other times, the devil calls out to you.

Before the spell was even complete, the clergy could feel his presence like a hand on their shoulders, a warm embrace, a familiar friend... It was transcendent.

The feeling of so many elements tangling, fighting, and then, at last, binding together is a potent one.

That said, Swiss does not recall much of his summoning, likening it to the fuzzy feeling of having just woken up, only to easily fall back asleep.

Rain: Water ghouls are... for lack of a better word... slippery.

No, like, actually.

The clergy have often wondered if they should start summoning them in a drier environment than the sacred ponds near the abbey, but they do have to admit it’s fun to watch the newly formed ghoul splash around and blow bubbles at them.

Rain would very much like them to forget the bubble part. It’s embarrassing.

And the slippery part.

It’s not his fault he was coated in a healthy layer of algae, okay? Keeps his skin smooth.

Mountain: Earth ghouls are tricky to create.

For one thing, you need a skilled woodcarver to form the sigils properly on the trunk of a suitable tree, find someone to handle some of the most toxic plants known to man, and then you have to actually have to summon the ghoul and hope it doesn’t see fit to pummel the lot of you into the ground.

Yeah, earth ghouls can be a little... “cranky”... when first awoken.

Thankfully, Mountain was rather calm about the whole situation... perhaps it was because they used the wrong mushrooms for his ritual...

Cumulus: In order to properly form an air ghoul, one must first understand... fifth grade science.

Basically, you need to build a functional terrarium and wait.

Air ghouls require an offering of “life” in order to form physical bodies, and before anyone jumps to the human sacrifice route, that’s death’s domain, and you won’t get an air ghoul from that.

Cumulus still has her little terrarium in her den, and quite enjoys watching the plants inside continue to thrive, untouched.

Cirrus: One would expect a similar process to Cumulus, and you’d be partially correct in assuming that. Cirrus also has a terrarium, but it holds a completely different ecosystem.

Where Cumulus’ environment is more classical forest, Cirrus’ terrarium holds a more aquatic set-up.

The plants in her terrarium grow their roots into water and have never touched the ground.

Sunshine: Perhaps the oddest manifestation of a ghoul in recent times.

One might liken her creation to that of a “surprise” baby, in that whoever brought her into existence knew the risks of doing the deed, just not the outcome.

Copia would like to go on record stating that he knew exactly what he was doing when he summoned Sunshine, and he totally wasn’t just mixing potions together for the hell of it.

Sunshine would like to go on record stating he, Copia, most certainly did not.

She does have to admit she’s having fun though.

#Lamp rambles #shitghosting #nameless ghouls #ghost band #the band ghost #copia #'Where did you get that ghoul?' 'Would you believe it was an accident'

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toastedkiwi · 3 years

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Pearl Ring

Summary: a certain ring on a certain finger has the world believing a Stark is engaged to a Wayne and your father isn’t happy.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Stark!Reader

11:00 EST. Fifth Avenue, New York.

Bruce gave you his right hand. You took it into your left hand as stairs are not your friend especially in heels. He knows it to be a fact as you have fallen down the stairs in his manor. Thankfully, it was just him around and you both got a good laugh over it. Since then, if you’re together and you’re in heels, he’ll give you his hand.

You both deal with the flashes of the cameras and the shouts of the paparazzi as you head to Alfred’s car. He awaits to open the door for you two to slide in once close enough. Bruce had you slid in first while Alfred took the many shopping bags from your hands. The door is shut and you looked at Bruce.

“My dad is gonna be pissed if I’m photographed with you again,” you said with a grin.

Bruce chuckled. Your dad hates him. He can’t stand him especially if he’s near you, his eldest and first born. It’s not at all like Bruce would hurt you purposefully and shit, you know you’re safe with Bruce. You two aren’t even dating. You’re probably the only friend that Bruce can tolerate and understand his grunts or at least not get pissed about it like his kids do. You both just understand each other better than most.

“I’m pretty sure I can handle Ironman,” Bruce said as Alfred got into the driver’s seat.

“I do believe that you would then have the whole Avengers coming after you, Master Bruce,” Alfred said driving off.

“I’m sure I can persuade some to not go after Bruce,” you said. “And I’m sure the kids will come to his aid in battling my father.”

“Oh, I’m more than sure that they’ll watch it all go down with popcorn,” Bruce said.

“I will be too,” you said grinning.

Bruce grabbed your hand and noticed you placed your grandmother’s ring on the wrong hand as you’re talking with Alfred. You always have it on your right hand on the finger in between your pinky and middle finger.

“Give me your other hand,” Bruce said.

You give it to him. He slipped off your ring and you just stopped speaking. You were getting the ring professionally cleaned and so you got the very busy Bruce Wayne to join you in New York to help you kill some time before you could get it back. And you put the ring on your ring finger meant to signify that a person is married or engaged. You aren’t at all and you’ve just been spotted holding hands with the guy you consider to be your best friend and your dad doesn’t approve of him.

“Oh my god, I’m such a dumbass,” you said as he slipped the pearl ring onto the right finger for you.

“You’ll be alright, you dummy,” Bruce said.

You back handed his bicep and said, “you asshole, we were holding hands! They’re gonna think we’re engaged or married!”

He smiled and said, “the boys would be happy and don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”

“It’s probably too late already,” you said.

It was. The paparazzi were quick to sell the photos which eventually started the process for news sites/gossip sites to write the story and examine the photos for little details. It would be a nightmare but it’ll be easily cleared up in an interview which you’ll probably have to do.

15:30 EST. Avengers Tower, Manhattan.

“Congrats on your daughter getting engaged, Mr. Stark,” Peter said.

“What? What do you mean?” Tony questioned narrowing his eyes at the poor teenager.

“Oh- uh— ummm, I thought that Y/n and B-Bruce—,” Peter said getting nervous.

“If you say Wayne, you are no longer an Avenger,” Tony growled.

“Why can’t the poor kid say Wayne?” Natasha asked appearing into the hallway.

“Because I hate the Waynes and specifically Bruce Wayne,” Tony said.

“Wow, you’re already hating your future son in law?” Natasha teased and shooed away Peter.

Peter quickly escaped to safety. Natasha pulled one of the breaking news videos on her tablet and showed Tony. Tony is ready to start WWIII and it won’t be a pretty thing.

“Friday! Give the location on my daughter NOW!” Tony yelled.

“Which one, sir?” She asked.

“THE OLDEST!”

“Her phone is turned off,” Friday informed.

“Track Bruce Wayne,” Tony said.

“Seriously, Tony?” Natasha said.

“Y/n always has her phone on,” he said.

“Gotham Academy,” Friday said.

16:30 EST. Gotham Academy, Gotham, NJ.

Bruce and Damian were walking down the stairs at the front of the building. Ironman dropped down in front of them. Damian smirked and Bruce couldn’t be more annoyed. He immediately put a hand in front of his son. It might be for Damian’s protection or Tony’s.

“I didn’t propose to her, Stark,” Bruce said.

“Where is she?!” Tony asked.

“She should be at her apartment in Manhattan,” Bruce said. “Probably taking a nap.”

The nanite helmet came off and Tony has this look on his face that Bruce knows all two well. Damian glared at Tony but Tony can’t be bothered by him. He doesn’t know where you are.

“Did you walk her up?” Tony asked.

“I carried in her shopping bags,” Bruce said. “And then I had to come back to Gotham.”

“Her phone is off and on the counter. I checked. She isn’t there,” Tony said.

22:00 EST. Scarecrow’s Hideout, Gotham, NJ.

“No, Daddy! Please don’t! P-Please don’t kill him!” You cried out.

It freaked Tony out. You’re terrified. You had been kidnapped and dosed with some psychotic. And you keep calling him. You’re begging him not to kill someone but who?

“B-Bruce, d-don’t go,” you whimpered.

Batman pulled out the anti-venom for the fear toxin. He’s hopeful that it’s the most up to date as Scarecrow takes his time to perfect each variant. It should at least dim down your hallucinations.

“What are you doing?!” Tony yelled running to where you and Batman are in the warehouse.

“Get away! B-BRUCE!” You screamed seeing a scary monster with big fangs in front of you. “HELP!”

He injected you with the anti venom into your thigh like an epipen. He hates seeing people close to him go through their worst nightmares. He’s clearly a part of it.

Your dad attacked the Batman while the rest of the team handle the goons as well as Scarecrow. Batman is quick to dodge the attacks as your father is a bit sloppy in his technique.

“I’m trying to help, Tin-Can,” Batman hissed.

Nightwing quickly came to your aid and fought off goons with Black Widow.

-on the quinjet. Not taken off yet.

“Bruce,” you cried for.

“You should call the billionaire,” Natasha suggested.

Tony huffed. However, Batman came aboard. He could careless about the others. You’re calling his name. He crouched down in front of you and took off the cowl in front of you.

“Bruce,” you whispered.

You went into his arms and cried in relief as he held you tightly. The others turned to see that Bruce Wayne is Batman. It’s shocking especially for Tony. He’s always thought so low of Bruce Wayne. He thought Bruce was just like him before becoming ironman. But it all had been a show for Bruce to put on.

“D-Don’t leave me,” you begged Bruce.

“I’m right here,” he said softly.

“I- I— I c-can’t lose you,” you whimpered.

You’re holding onto him so tightly. You don’t want to let go of him. Tony could tell this. Bruce means a lot to you and probably more than your father will know.

“Shhhh, breathe, Honey,” he said.

Bucky came over with a blanket and put it over you. Bruce helped wrapped it around you.

“You should get seated,” Bucky said.

Bruce scooped you up and sat down on the bench.

“You know you look like shit,” Tony said.

Of course he does. He’s bleeding. He’s got bruising on his face. It’s all because of Tony using his metal fists to beat him. He’s only human.

The jet took off to the upstate compound. Bruce kept you close and reassured you that he’s okay and that he has you.

08:00 EST. Avengers Compound, Medbay, New York.

“Hi,” Bruce said when you opened up your eyes.

“Hi,” you whispered.

“Are you feeling alright?” He asked seeing that you’re shaking a little.

You nodded your head looking at him. He’s in a black Avengers issued hoodie. His hair isn’t styled like how it usually is. He’s patched up and makeup isn’t covering his bruises. He’s sitting in a swivel stool right at your bedside.

“You’re really Batman?” you asked.

“Yes,” he said.

You smiled and said, “I knew it.”

Bruce chuckled. He stood up from his seat. He leaned over the bed railing and kissed your forehead.

“Can I go home with you, Mr. Batman?” You asked.

“I don’t think your father would like that,” he said.

“Screw him,” you said jokingly.

“Excuse me?” Tony said walking in with Alfred behind him.

“Master Bruce, I brought you a suit so you can change out of those awful clothes,” Alfred said.

“That is rude,” Tony said.

“My sincerest apologies, I do not care,” Alfred said.

You laughed seeing your dad’s face. Bruce thanked Alfred.

“I’ll be right back, Darling,” Bruce said.

Alfred and him headed off. Alfred went off back to the car while Bruce went into the bathroom to get changed. He put his batsuit in the black suit protector and he covered what bruises he could with makeup. Only the Avengers who went on the rescue mission to get you and Dr. Cho know about his alter ego.

“I still don’t like him,” Tony said.

“That’s a lie,” you said.

“You really like him, don’t you?” your dad asked.

“Yeah, he makes me really happy, Daddy,” you said.

“You know he’s got like 20 kids,” he said.

“So do you,” you sassed. “They just aren’t legally yours and most are fully grown.”

“Maybe we can all go out to dinner or something,” Tony said.

“I’d like that,” you said.

Bruce came into the room and Tony turned his head to see the billionaire fresh faced— no longer sporting any nasty bruises.

“What happened to the bruises?” Tony asked.

“Concealer,” Bruce said simply.

“Your butler brought you makeup?” Tony asked.