#i do occasionally throw the straights a bone

[dizzystqrs]

when i tell you they fumbled, destroyed, and MASSACRED the bag with bella & will. he's literally a diver lacking the passion to love it for anything but the money, and a mermaid who has hardly known anything but the sea reminds him why he loves the ocean. why'd they make it weird!

#i do occasionally throw the straights a bone #i really liked their ship at first actually until.... u know 😕 #h2o just add water #bella hartley #will benjamin #wella #that is a tag i have never used ever #i have approximately a similar amount of beef w will as i do most of the h2o male love interests for the pure reasons of Boundary Crossing™

[slvttyplum]

giving choso under the table support when he’s at his desk gaming mic’d up.

you never did it when he was just playing regularly, but you always did it when he had his mic on, to see him squirm and adjust his voice so he could act normally.

this was your favorite thing to do in your past time; watch him try to win and talk to his friends while you were sucking the soul out of him.

he knew what you were doing, yet he let you do it every time. he just couldn’t resist the way your tongue moved slowly up and down his shaft, then to the tip.

his legs jerking whenever you hit a sensitive spot on his length, his eyes squinting, trying to focus in on the lit screen.

his hands jerking on the mouse and losing shots, trying to focus in on what’s happening, but the way you’re teasing his tip is sending his

over.

slowly moving his hand down to your cheek, caressing with his thumb whenever they take a break, grinning down at you, reassuring you that you’re doing a good job.

“choso what’s wrong? did you just come back from a run?” his legs are still twitching, trying to focus on what’s happening under his desk and on his screen.

“yeah… i’m good. i just... i’m tired.” while looking down at you, your eyes looking straight up at his, and his heart beating faster.

you never failed to make him cum while you were under there; he had a sensitive dick, and you knew where his weak spots were.

but when you felt that it wasn’t enough, you would keep sucking, and he would lose his mind.

his friends are getting mad at him because he’s losing shots, his legs are twitching nonstop, and his whimpering is getting noticeably louder.

but one thing he knew not to do was say he was leaving or turn off the game. you made him swear not to, and if you did, you wouldn’t have sex with him again.

that scared the shit out of him, so he obliged, his dick getting drained to the bone while trying to win a game.

constantly getting scolded for throwing the game, but the only thing he can focus on is how well you’re taking him down your throat.

you sucked him down so many times that you became a master at getting him to cum back to back.

one time you made him cum four times in a row, he threw game after game, and the only thing he could do was throw his head down while balling his fist and whimpering.

your hands would occasionally milk him out, but you wanted your mouth to do all the work. he reacted best when you were physically sucking the cum out of him.

licking up the pre-cum that was falling down into your mouth, and not even ten seconds later, he was cumming into your mouth, not even trying to hold back.

your mouth was his weakness, and he couldn’t stop you.

“good boy.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #x reader #jujutsu choso #choso #choso x you #choso smut #choso x y/n #choso kamo #choso x reader #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso

[downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le]

As Brave As You Are (Newt x Reader) - A Maze Runner Story

As Brave As You Are (Newt x Reader) Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 12,051 Warnings: death, bloody wounds, fighting, mental and physical torture, guns, suicidal thoughts and actions Spoilers: no spoilers because the books and films came out ages ago

After helping Newt recover from his ankle injury, Y/N and Newt formed an unbreakable bond that always had them looking out for each other. When they escaped the Maze, then navigated the Scorch, they always had each other’s back. It isn’t until Y/N is captured alongside Minho by WCKD and Newt contracts the Flare that he realises how he truly feels about Y/N.

Problem is, will he rescue her in time to tell her?

Note: I'm back in my dystopian future era thanks to the new Hunger Games film so of course I had to write for my original YA crush. This piece is based on the movie series mainly. Don't get mad at me, I love the books more, but I can appreciate the storylines that came out of the path they took with the films. And if there is one thing the TMR fandom can agree on, it is that the film cast was the best cast ever for the series. So enjoy - not sorry that it's horrendously long, Newt deserves it xx

‘Medjack! Medjack, now!’

Y/N recognised it was Minho was calling for help. Clint and Jeff ran out of the med hut to see what all the commotion was. It wasn’t long before they were hurrying back inside, carrying Newt of all people between them, Minho and Alby in tow.

‘Clear the table,’ Clint ordered, and Y/N quickly followed through, practically throwing off containers, bowls and medical instruments to get Newt on there as quick as possible. Once Newt was up, Y/N finally noticed the unnatural twist in his ankle and it almost sent Frypan’s sloppy sweet potato soup right back up. 

She was still pretty new to her job as a Medjack, being the greenie and all. She was the only girl in the Glade of the current twelve residents, so she was intimidated at first as to what role she could play in the place. Medjack seemed the most suitable, and she seemed to have a knack for it, having stitched up some eyebrows and cleaned up knee scrapes with ease and precision. 

But even though she’d seen blood, dealt with displaced bones and joints, she still got queasy doing her job. It didn’t help that Newt was hissing through clenched teeth from the intense pain, an occasional sob passing through.

‘What happened?’ Y/N asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Minho said. ‘We split up for only five minutes. I thought we could cover more ground that way. And we’ve run that part of the Maze like a hundred times already. I thought we’d be fine…’

Clint held Newt down as Jeff and Y/N took a look at Newt’s ankle. Jeff only pressed gently with his fingers around the bone, but Newt’s responding howls confirmed the severity of the injury.

‘The bone is completely shattered,’ Jeff said grimly. ‘We’re going to need to reset his foot first though. Y/N?’

‘On it.’ She rushed to a shelf that held bandages, then to a cupboard with flat boards about shin length. She grabbed two of those before heading back to the table.

‘You’re going to have to hold him down,’ Y/N directed at Alby and Minho, gesturing to follow Clint’s efforts. Then she turned to Newt, whose face was slicked with tears and sweat as he continued to writhe in pain. ‘Newt. Newt, can you open your eyes for me? I need you to focus on me.’

To his credit, Newt opened his eyes and he didn’t look away from her. 

‘Good. Good, Newt,’ she said. ‘Now, we have to realign your foot. It’s going to hurt a lot. We’ll go on three, okay?’

In the short time Y/N had known Newt – which arguably was no time at all, as he ran every day and she was in the Medjack hut all day. They didn’t interact unless he or another runner got hurt, or at dinner if only to say hello. Even so, she had come to know he liked it plain and straight, no bullshit. So, despite his pain, he took two deep, calming breaths and gave her a nod to say he was ready for what they had to do.

Y/N nodded back, then looked to the others, who had their hands braced on all Newt’s limbs. ‘Ready?’ she asked, to which they nodded in reply. Y/N gently held Newt’s ankle, eliciting a quiet whimper from the boy. ‘Okay, on three. One, two…’ She cut herself off as she slammed her hands either side the ankle bone, causing a loud cracking sound as the ankle snapped back into place. 

Newt’s wail of pain must’ve been heard from across the whole Glade it was so loud. He writhed and pulled to sit up, but the boys held him down as Y/N and Jeff bandaged the two splints either side of Newt’s ankle. Jeff then dabbed a small dose of chloroform in a cloth and pressed it to Newt’s nose. Soon enough, the boy was unconscious, finally pain-free.

‘You guys go have dinner,’ Y/N said to Clint and Jeff a little while later as they were cleaning up the hut. Alby and Minho had left soon after Newt fell asleep, but it was almost dinner time now. ‘I’ll stay with Newt tonight.’

‘You sure?’ Clint asked. ‘We can do shifts if you’d prefer.’

Y/N shook her head. ‘I insist. You guys rest up. I can do this. Consider this my final test to becoming a fully-fledged Medjack.’

Jeff chuckled. ‘You have much more to learn, Greenie, but suit yourself.’

‘We’ll bring you back some food, Y/N,’ Clint said as he and Jeff left the hut, leaving Y/N to idly clean up.

Newt woke up from a dull throbbing in his ankle, which turned into a harsh pain, causing him to sit up in alarm. 

‘Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,’ a voice gently said as equally gentle hands pushed him back down.

‘My ankle,’ he said, voice hoarse and dry. ‘It hurts…’

The face of the voice finally came into view: it was the Greenie. Y/N offered him a small smile as he finally recognised her. In one hand, she held a needle with clear serum. Her other she offered to his leg. ‘May I? It’ll help, I promise.’

He hesitated for a moment, but the intense pain in his ankle broke his composure as he eagerly nodded. The painkiller worked immediately, and Newt sighed with relief as the throbbing eased significantly.

’There,’ Y/N said, wiping the needle. ’That should help for a bit. Sadly, we don’t have much left for me to give you more than once a day, but I’m hoping you won’t need it beyond the end of the month.’

Confusion clouded Newt’s mind as he tried to process her words. ‘What… What happened?’ But he answered his own question as images of the Maze flashed through his mind, and he remembered it all. How he bid farewell to Minho. How he climbed as high as he could along the Maze walls. How easy it was to let go. 

Then the pain fully encompassed him, and then it was just a blur. How Minho found him. How Clint and Jeff laid him on the table he realised he was still on. How angry and embarrassed he felt having his friends see him broken and miserable. 

Newt managed to pull himself into a sitting position, propping a pillow behind him to cushion the hut wall. ‘How bad is it?’ he asked glumly, eyes unable to lift from his injury.

He couldn’t be bothered with pleasantries. He was too tired, and, frankly, saw no point in keeping up appearances anymore. 

To her credit, Y/N seemed to pick up on his mood, saying, ‘It will heal to a point you’ll be able to walk again. But it won’t ever heal properly.’

‘You mean I’ll have a limp?’

‘Potentially.’

’So I can’t be a Runner anymore?’ Y/N didn’t reply, finally drawing Newt’s attention away from the source of his pain and to her. 

Newt had only interacted with Y/N on a few occasions. Mainly at mealtimes or the odd occasion he passed her by on the way back from a run, only talking as much as greeting and farewelling one another. As the only girl so far, of course he found her intriguing, but he never had time nor a reason to get to know her.

And while he’d come to think of her as the quiet and gentle Medjack in comparison to Clint and Jeff, he didn’t see an ounce of pity on her face as she looked at him. Only quiet contemplation, as if there could be any other answer but no to his question.

‘I guess that’s up to you and Alby,’ she finally said. ‘I mean, I know what I should say is no. I’m sure Clint and Jeff will say no. But it’ll more so come down to if you want to go back in or not.’ Her eyes flickered to his ankle, sadness glazing her eyes briefly before returning to him. ‘But I think I can take a guess as to what your answer will be.’

Newt’s gut twisted with guilt and shame that she’d figured it out, and his face flushed with embarrassment and anger. ‘So, you going to tell everyone?’ he asked, words thick  with hopelessness. ‘I mean, that’s your job, right? Diagnose me, then tell Alby, then the whole glade how pathetic I am?’

Y/N shook her head. ‘I think you give me too much credit. I’m not an actual doctor, you know,’ she said, coming to stand beside him. She inspected his ankle for a moment, then turned her gaze to him, and it shocked him to see such intensity in her eyes. It was as if suddenly he was the most interesting person in the world.

‘I can say it was a running accident,’ she finally concluded. ‘You can tell your truth when you’re ready. It’s not my place to take away hope when the others are so full of it right now. That includes me.’

He stared, stunned, as she packed up the last of her things by a spare medical cot at the other end of the hut. It wasn’t until she let out a loud yawn that Newt noticed it was dark outside. The silence of the Glade told him everyone else had gone to bed so it was late. Or early, he couldn’t really tell.

Y/N fluffed a sad excuse of a pillow and put it on the cot. ‘Now that I know you’re alive, are you going to be okay if I get a few minutes shut eye? I can stay up if you’d like.’

Now that the initial shock and embarrassment of the day’s events had subsided, Newt realised how exhausted he was still. ‘No, that’s okay,’ he said. ‘I think I should rest a bit more anyway.’

Y/N nodded and swung her legs up to lie down fully. Newt went to slide himself and his pillow back down to do the same when Y/N spoke again.

‘And Newt?’ she said, her voice soft and almost hesitant.

‘Yeah?’ he called back.

She was silent for so long Newt thought she’d gone to sleep. But then she spoke. ‘For the record, I don’t think you’re pathetic. For wanting it all to end, that is. I actually think what you did was really brave. You might be scared and maybe out of hope, but at least you did something about it. The rest of us can only hope to be as brave as you.’

Newt’s breath caught in his chest as it swelled with a mix of emotions. Brave? What he did was the act of a coward. Tears streamed silently down his face, both from a deep shame, but also a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time.

The rest of us can only hope to be as brave as you…

Newt had lost all hope after a year of searching for a way out and finding nothing. But she didn’t know that, and neither will the next Greenie, or the Greenie after that. Even some of the boys already in the Glade didn’t know that. That’s why they waited every day for the runners – for him – to come back with news, with a shred of hope that they’d get out of there soon. 

Newt twisted himself so he could see Y/N, who was rolled away from him, her body rising and falling with the rhythm of sleep. Even if he thought it would all be hopeless in the end, some truly believed they would get out of here.

And maybe that was something worth fighting for.

~

Two years on and Newt and Y/N had managed to forge something akin to a friendship. 

Y/N had kept her word and said Newt had had a running accident, and he’d agreed with her for the sake of his worried friends. Y/N had also been right about his ankle; it healed to point where he could walk and do a decent jog with a limp. But he would never run again. 

He was transferred to work as a Track-Hoe in the gardens with Zart. But it wasn’t all bad. As more boys arrived – never any girls much to their confusion – Newt developed a knack for leading others, for diffusing hard situations, and for wrangling the boys into line. Because of that, he was promoted to Alby’s second-in-command, which gave him more meaningful work to do than just the gardens – stuff that might actually get him and the other Gladers out of the bloody Maze. 

It also meant he had more time to talk to Y/N. He would make sure to drop by once a day (and not just at mealtimes) to check in on her. For a time, he convinced himself he did that because it was his job as second-in-command to keep up group morale, and he would visit everyone in the Glade. Eventually, however, he realised it was because he genuinely enjoyed her company.

Since that night, Y/N had come out of her shell more. Still a little shy and apprehensive at times, but she would openly joke and play along with the boys’ antics. She was more confident in her work as a Medjack too, not afraid to boss Clint and Jeff around if she needed something from them.

Newt’s visits became longer, as they talked about any and all things. Aside from Alby and Minho, Newt considered Y/N one of his closest friends. And she must’ve felt the same – or at least in a similar fashion – as she entertained his thoughts about life beyond the Maze, and the rants he would go on thanks to whichever stupid shank put the fertiliser in the wrong place.

It was a friendship built on mutual respect and genuine care for one another, something that helped Newt convince Y/N to come with him and the others when they finally decided to leave the Maze. But he couldn’t help but feel a deep dread and guilt as he waited behind Thomas, knowing that Grievers were right around the corner.

While the others caught up, Newt turned to Y/N – who’d been helping him through the Maze with his limp – and offered her a spare spear he’d been carrying.

Her eyes widened at his offering. ‘I can’t take that. I can’t fight.’

‘Well, you can’t just go in there without something to protect yourself,’ he said, this time forcibly handing the spear over. Y/N clutched the spear awkwardly, and Newt saw the uncertainty in her eyes, in her trembling hands.

Newt felt bad for making her hold such a violent weapon. All her hands had ever done were help people, save them at times. Now he was asking her to kill. It was for the greater good they both knew, but to kill, nonetheless.

Newt placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and locked eyes with her. ‘Hey,’ he said softly, ‘you stay with me the whole time, do you understand? I promise you won’t have to use that unless absolute necessary.’

Y/N bit her lip to stop it trembling too, but she nodded, steeling herself in preparation for the fight ahead. Newt reciprocated the action and gave her shoulder a final squeeze before turning to face Thomas as he explained the plan.

They fought the Grievers, taking down a few while some of them took down Gladers. The Gladers were backed against the door that Teresa and Chuck were trying to open with a code. Minho shouted numbers at them as he, Newt, and the others fended off one last Griever.

Before he could finish, Minho was caught by a Griever, and Clint ran out to save him. But the Griever’s tail caught him, sending him over the edge of the walkway they fought on with one flick.

‘Clint!’

Before Newt could stop her, Y/N rushed out from behind him, spear drawn back and flying at the Griever in seconds. Not being a fighter to begin with, let alone a good one, the spear bounced off its metal leg without much effect. It did, however, alert the Griever to her presence, turning all its attention to her. Minho leapt to his feet, finally free, and ran back to the group. ‘Y/N!’ he cried as he ran. ‘Run!’

Y/N seemed to finally realise her situation, looking up at the Griever frozen with fear. The horrible creature raised its claw to end her, but Newt moved faster. 

He ran as fast as he could, limp be damned, past Y/N and threw his spear at the Griever’s head. It landed true, puncturing one of the creature’s bulbous eyes, drawing a painful screech from it. Newt didn’t wait to see what it would do next, as he grabbed one of Y/N’s arms and Minho grabbed the other and ran back to the group, practically throwing her behind the front line and against the door. 

Teresa finally got the door open and the Gladers tumbled in, Thomas throwing one last spear down the Griever’s throat as the doors closed. 

Lights flickered on to show they were in some empty room with a door on the wall behind them leading to a corridor.

Thomas looked at the group, taking heavy breaths. ‘Everyone okay?’

‘What’s left of us, that is,’ Winston said, his tone sad and regretful. 

As Newt eyed the group, he noted how many they’d lost, how little their group seemed all of a sudden. 

Minho stepped ahead with Thomas, pointing towards the door. ‘Well? It’s not going to open itself.’

As Minho and Thomas led the group to the exit, Newt turned to Y/N, whose eyes had a distant look glazed over them. ‘What were you thinking?’ he asked, bringing her attention to him. ‘I told you to stay behind me. You could’ve been killed.’

‘I-I know. I’m sorry,’ she stuttered out, tears teetering in her E/C eyes. ‘I just… Clint… It all happened so fast, and I was just kind of moving before I knew what I was doing.’ She looked down at her hands then, and Newt noticed a slight tremble to them. ‘I thought I could help, but I was too slow. And I put you guys in danger too. I’m just… I’m sorry.’

Newt’s guilt came back full force then. He placed a gentle hand over her trembling one, grasping her fingers to stop their shaking. When she looked up at him confused, he just said, ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pressured you into thinking you had to fight. You won’t ever hold a weapon like that again. I promise.’

Y/N opened her mouth to object no doubt, but Newt cut her off. ‘But you have to promise me something back. Promise me that you’ll let us protect you. You can help by keeping us alive, just like you always have. But you’ve got to listen to me, you got it?’

He used his authoritative voice this time, and it seemed to work as Y/N calmed down, her unshed tears now gone.

‘Okay,’ she said, quiet but strong. ‘I promise.’

Newt nodded. ‘Good that.’ He turned to see the others leaving through the door then turned back to Y/N. ’Do you think we’d be lucky enough not to face anything else beyond those doors.’

‘I think we should consider ourselves lucky for getting this far.’ To her credit, Y/N managed a small smile as she looked up at him. ‘But why should our luck run out now?’

There it was again; the glimmer of hope Newt had felt from her since the night he injured his ankle. Newt couldn’t deny that they’d made it this far – by design or by luck, they’d made it. 

And who was he to deny that things might be on the look up for them now?

Together, Y/N and Newt followed the rest of the Gladers to meet their makers.

~

‘I never thought I’d say this… but I miss the Glade.’

The group around the fire grew silent at the implication Frypan’s words had, the memories they conjured up. Y/N couldn’t help but agree as she looked into the dark sky above her, peaking from behind the crumbling pillars they took refuge under. 

The sky was always so clear back in the Glade, she recalled silently. But, just like their current situation, the sky was now obscured. 

The people who rescued them from the Maze were actually WCKD – the people who’d put them in the Maze in the first place. The past twelve hours had seen herself, Newt, Thomas, Minho, Frypan, Winston, and a boy named Aris find Teresa, break out of the facility, and enter the deadly Scorch. In their search for supplies, they’d been attacked by crazed, infected people, driving the group to hide where they were.

The Maze was dangerous, but it was familiar and the only home Y/N recalled ever having. Out in the Scorch, safety wasn’t guaranteed. 

She looked to Winston, who laid back, his shirt pulled up to expose the bloody bandage she’d wrapped his torso in. Y/N tried not to think about the infected scratch marks underneath, and more specifically what gave them to him. The Grievers were one thing, but the things that attacked them? They used to be people.

Not wanting to sit in her thoughts anymore, Y/N stood up, brushed off her pants, and grabbed knife from their pile of weapons they’d found in the abandoned mall. ‘I’ll take first watch.’ 

She didn’t wait to hear if anyone objected, already walking around the stone that covered them so she was on top. To her relief, the others let her go without argument, putting out the fire and quickly settling down to sleep.

After half an hour, Y/N decided to get up and patrol around the area, knife tightly gripped in her hand and her footsteps quiet despite the sand. 

There was so much of it,  the sand. The lady in white – Doctor Ava Paige – had said in her video that the whole world was just desert now. The thought made Y/N yearn for the Glade even more. For the grass, and the woods, and the bonfires they used to have, and the games they played. The boys – Clint, Jeff, Alby, Gally, Chuck. 

Y/N wasn’t a hateful person, but she clutched the knife tighter at the thought of all the loss they’d all suffered at the hands of WCKD. 

It’s why she didn’t hesitate to follow Newt when he’d found her in her room – for some reason, she hadn’t been allowed to stay with the other girls from the other mazes just yet. It’s why they were now braving the Scorch searching for people that Thomas didn’t know even existed. They wanted a better life out from under WCKD’s thumb.

The crunch of sand had her whirling around, awkwardly poising the knife as if to attack, but she relaxed at the familiar person standing there.

Newt raised his hands in mock surrender. ‘Whoa there,’ he said, the quirk of a smile on his lips telling her he was just joking. ‘You could do some real damage if you’re not careful.’

Y/N blew out in relief, the knife dropping to her side again. ‘Thanks, but we both know that’s not the case, Newt.’

Newt shoved his hands in his jacket pocket, shrugging his shoulders as he did. ‘I don’t know, I’ve seen you with a scalpel. Absolutely terrifyingly precise with that thing.’

Y/N chuckled softly, appreciative of the distraction. But her smile dropped as she looked out into the dark cityscape. The moon hid behind clouds so Y/N couldn’t make out anything. ‘Is it pathetic that I’m scared to see what the world has become?’ she asked, not daring to raise her voice above a soft mumble.

Newt stepped up beside her, his body radiating the last remnants of heat from the fire and it warmed her slightly. ’Someone once told me that I was brave for facing my fear,’ he said after some quiet contemplation. 

Y/N looked up at him confused, but he looked down at her with a knowing, smug smile. Much to her chagrin, she couldn’t help but chuckle and shake her head at him. ‘I don’t recall saying that specifically. But if that’s how you saw it, who am I to tell you that wasn’t what I meant?’

Newt hummed in agreement looking back out at the dark expanse, contemplation scrunching his brows together. ‘I’ll be honest with you, I’m scared too.’

That surprised Y/N. Newt, second-in-command, casual, leader Newt was scared? ‘You are?’

Newt nodded. ‘I’m scared that we’ve made a mistake. That Thomas is wrong and there aren’t any mountain people.’ He turned back to Y/N, the most serious she’d ever seen him. ‘I’m scared we’re going to lose more of us, and then what was our escape for? But… it’s not my place to take away hope when the others are so full of it. Including myself.’ Finally, Newt’s smile returned, and it warmed that cold pit of despair Y/N had been falling into ever since they left the WCKD facility. ‘Or, at least, I think that’s what someone very wise once told me.’

Y/N stared at him, awestruck. Hopeful. Newt was hopeful again. And she didn’t want to read into it, but she thought the knowing smile he was giving her told her that she had something to do with it. The thought alone strengthened her resolve, and she looked down at the knife in her hands, less afraid of it all of a sudden.

Y/N held it out to Newt. ’Teach me.’

He raised an eyebrow in a silent question. ‘What?’

’Teach me. How to fight,’ Y/N explained, eyes unwavering from his. 

Concern flashed across Newt’s face for a brief moment. ‘Y/N, I told you, you don’t have to fight if you don’t want to.’

‘If there is one thing I’ve come to know about WCKD is that it doesn’t actually matter what I want anymore. What any of us want,’ Y/N said, feeling the most certain she’s felt in a long time. ‘The one thing we have on WCKD is that we are defiant. We escaped, and are taking away the one thing they want most of all: a chance to find a cure. So, if we’re going to have any hopes of making it to the mountains alive, I’m going to have to know how to fight. So please – teach me.’

Newt contemplated her for a moment, and Y/N just prayed he wouldn’t say no. Or even worse, laugh. Instead of doing either, he took the knife from Y/N’s hand, his fingers brushing across her palm as he did. 

‘All right,’ he said, moving his feet apart to get into a fighting stance. ‘First of all, you’ve got to have a wide-ish stance, and stay light on your toes so you can control when you back away from your opponent.’ 

He demonstrated the movement by quickly shuffling away, always keeping his feet a certain distance apart and the knife gripped tight by his hip. ‘…and when you go into attack.’ He moved so fast Y/N didn’t see his footwork, her eyes locked on his as they bored into hers, knife poised at her neck as if he’d strike.

He stepped away and gave her the knife back. ‘You think you can do that?’

Y/N nodded and took the knife, and for the next hour Newt taught Y/N basic blocks and manoeuvres that he’d picked up from Thomas and Minho and just from basic instinct. Just like she’d been with her Medjack skills, Y/N was a quick study, performing move after move when Newt asked her to. 

She impressed herself. For a natural pacifist, she wielded the knife quite fluently.

They decided to finish the session on a quick sparring match. Newt took a swipe at Y/N, and she stepped back just like Newt had taught her. She then rushed in for an attack, to which Newt threw up his own knife in time to block. Y/N anticipated the pushback and twisted out of Newt’s way as he stumbled slightly forward. While he was disorientated, Y/N gripped his wrist that controlled his knife and pointed her own into his back. 

‘Looks like I win,’ she said, breathless but proud.

Y/N didn’t like the carefree scoff he gave her, followed by, ‘Are you sure?’

She doubted herself for a moment, loosening her grip enough for him to twist out of her reach, knock her knife away and bend to sweep her legs out from underneath her. Y/N landed hard, groaning at the pain in her butt as Newt looked down at her and laughed. 

‘I’m glad you find my pain amusing, Newt,’ she grumbled, rubbing her sore behind.

Newt laughed for a moment longer then calmed down. But his radiant smile remained on his face, brightening the darkness surrounding them. ‘I’m sorry, love,’ he said between remaining chuckles. To his credit, he held out his hand in an offer to help her up. ’But the surprise on your face was priceless.’

Y/N contemplated his hand for a moment, whether she should just push it away or take it. Instead, an idea came to mind, and she gripped his hand tightly then pulled him to the ground with her. He landed on his stomach beside her, getting a face full of sand.

Y/N let out a loud laugh before quickly covering her mouth to stifle the relentless laughter that wished to burst from her. 

Newt spat and coughed out sand as he made to sit up. ‘Well,’ he started, spitting out more sand as he looked up at Y/N, ‘I should’ve seen that coming.’

That just made Y/N laugh even harder, using now both hands to quieten the giggles. Goodness, when was the last time she’d laughed this freely? When was the last time she’d felt such joy? After everything they’d been through, Y/N was worried she’d forgotten what was like to laugh.

When she’d calmed down, she looked down to see Newt propped up on his arms looking up at her with an odd expression on his face. Like he was in awe, maybe. Whatever it was, it made Y/N acknowledge how handsome Newt had become. His baby features had faded since she’d first met him, being replaced by a lean figure and a toned jawline from working in the gardens every day for two years. And with his big brown eyes, tousled blond hair and funny accent, Y/N wondered how he had changed so much without her realising it. How she hadn’t realised he’d grown up.

The intensity with which he looked at her brought a heated blush to her face, and so she turned away into the cool night breeze, willing the blush to cool down. Newt shuffled to sit up next to her. They didn’t speak for a minute, until Newt suddenly stood up. 

‘Well, um,’ he started, and for the first time since Y/N had known him, he sounded uncertain about what to say. ‘I better let you continue with your shift. At least you know how to defend yourself now.’

Y/N hastily stood up as well, making sure there was at least a step between them. ‘Yes!’ she said. ‘Thank you for that. I’ll be sure to practice.’

‘Good that.’ 

They looked at each other for a moment, and even though Newt said he was leaving, he made no move to leave. Maybe he doesn’t want to, she thought, and the mere possibility of that being true warmed her heart.

But he took a step away, gave her a shy smile and a small wave farewell. ‘Goodnight, Y/N.’

‘Goodnight Newt,’ she said, those two words hanging in the air long after he’d left.

As she finally woke Frypan up for his shift, she clung to the knife and went through all the manoeuvres Newt had taught her until she fell asleep. 

Newt was unable to sleep until Y/N woke Frypan up to take the next watch shift, and laid down to sleep herself. Newt opened his eyes to see Y/N laying across the pit they’d dug out for the fire. She faced him on her side, and Newt noticed with curiosity that she held the knife she’d practiced with close to her chest. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically, and paired with her heavy breathing, Newt figured she was completely asleep. 

An odd sensation fluttered in his chest and stomach as Newt considered Y/N’s sleeping face. It was the same feeling that had fizzled in his chest when he’d looked up at her as she laughed. He couldn’t remember the last time any of them had laughed as freely as she had. 

And he couldn’t help but admire how beautiful she looked doing so – hiding her bright smile behind trembling hands, eyes narrowed but sparkling with joy. 

All because of him.

He rolled onto his back then, not wanting to give the thought anymore weight. There’s no point getting your hopes up, he reminded himself. But like a moth drawn to flame, Newt couldn’t help but tilt his head to gaze upon her peacefully sleeping. An ache carved itself deep in his heart. How had he not realised her growing up, changing? Being the only girl for a long time, of course he and the others found her pretty. But now that he looked at her – really looked at her, and wasn’t concerned with his life for just a split second – he realised just how beautiful she was. 

It was in her features, but also in her determination to be better for the group. It both hurt and impressed him when she asked for his help. He promised her she would never have to fight again, but things have changed drastically since the Maze.

It was in her ability to still find the joy in things, to still be able to laugh despite their situation.

It was how she believed in Thomas, in Aris, in the mountain people, even if she was scared. 

‘The rest of us can only wish to be as brave as you,’ he whispered into the night, a silent promise that he’d tell her that sometime. 

And with the fluttering in his chest finally easing into a calm warmth, he finally fell asleep.

~

Everything exploded with chaos as Y/N, Newt, Thomas, and Minho navigated their way through the Right Arm camp as guns fired and explosions went off. 

Teresa had betrayed them. Y/N couldn’t believe it when it was revealed in front of everyone, and she still couldn’t believe it as Minho pushed her head down, sheltering her from another explosion. Teresa truly believed WCKD could find a cure, but still at the expanse of Y/N and her friends’ pain. And just when Thomas was going to blow them all sky high, Jorge and Brenda had come in like a saving grace, and that’s when all hell broke loose.

‘This way!’ Thomas yelled over the din, beckoning them behind a weapons container.

However, Minho stopped suddenly and picked up a launcher. Keep going!’ Minho called over his shoulder as he shot at WCKD soldiers around him. ‘I’m right behind you!’

Thomas and Newt reached the container, but Y/N stopped and turned at the sound of a painful cry. ‘Minho!’ she cried as her friend fell, his body convulsing from a launcher shot. 

‘Y/N, no!’ Newt called after her, but she was already running back to Minho, grabbing at his jacket to drag him to safety. 

But Y/N was not strong like the boys, and certainly not strong enough to move Minho in any hurry. She looked up just in time to see a launcher fire at her, then her body felt like it was on fire. 

She was sure she was screaming, but she couldn’t hear anything as the electricity struck every nerve with a vicious bite. After what felt like an eternity of pain, she was granted a moment of peace as her vision went white, then in a flash was swamped by darkness.

Newt’s heart stopped when he saw Y/N shot. She convulsed as Minho had, then collapsed beside their friend unconscious. The second Y/N hit the ground, Newt found his voice again, feelings of anger and desperation clawing their way through every vein in him.

‘Y/N, no!’ His cry came out broken as he made to run to her, but a strong hand gripped the back of his jacket and pulled him back. 

‘No, boys,’ Vince shouted over the din, holding both Newt and Thomas back. 

‘Let me go!’ Newt protested, struggling against Vince, eyes darting between him and Y/N. ‘I need to help her! Y/N!’

But WCKD soldiers were already picking up Y/N and Minho’s unconscious bodies, dragging their feet through the red dirt and into a berg.

‘I’m sorry, son,’ Vince said, and Newt thought he sounded genuine. But that didn’t stop icy terror gripping tight on his heart as the doors began to close on Y/N, Minho, and other immunes from the Right Arm.

Thomas called for Minho, and Newt called for Y/N, but neither could do anything to help their friends as they were flown away. Back in WCKD’s clutches once again.

When the sun rose, the remaining survivors came out of hiding and began scrounging up supplies. They were moving on, Vince claiming there was nothing they could do but keep going with who and what they had left.

Newt couldn’t accept that, and neither could Thomas apparently, as he claimed he was going after Minho, Y/N and the others. Without hesitation or any further explanation, Newt was the first to sign up and join him.

And so, they went on a quest to rescuing Minho, Y/N, and as many immunes as possible. The train hijack was a huge success with immune numbers, but no Minho and no Y/N. Even so, Newt refused to accept that he’d never see either of them again. Even when they almost got killed by cranks. Even when he, Thomas, Brenda, Frypan, and Jorge were almost blown up by turret guns.

Even when he found out he was infected with the Flare.

He could feel it, his mind slowly slipping away as the Flare ate away at his sanity. He was usually level-headed and rational – it’s part of the reason he became second-in-command in the first place. Guilt and shame ate away at him as he sat on the rooftop of their hideout in the outskirts of the Last City, explaining to Thomas why he just bit his head off about being in love with Teresa.

Not that I’m one to talk, he thought as he rolled down as his sleeve, silence wrapping around him and Thomas comfortably. Newt could feel Thomas didn’t know what to say, and Newt didn’t like long silences so he broke it.

‘The crazy thing, though is…’ Newt started, a soft but sad scoff escaping him, ‘I’m not scared of dying. I used to be, back in the Maze. Because it felt like my friends were dying for no reason, without purpose. But…’ Newt looked over his shoulder, past Thomas, and to the peaking spires of the Last City. To where Y/N was being held somewhere.

‘I have something to die for now,’ Newt said, eyes never wavering from the spires.

Thomas came to sit beside Newt, a sad realisation drawing his brows and lips down. ‘You’re not just talking about Minho, are you?’ he asked.

It was how gentle and matter-of-fact Thomas spoke that had Newt’s chest tightening with fear and an immense pressure he’d been scared, until now, to acknowledge. His throat threatened to close on him as he spoke, rendering his words tight and uncontrolled. ‘I failed to protect her, Tommy,’ he managed to get out. ‘I promised I’d always protect her, and I didn’t.’ 

It surprised Newt how simultaneously hard and easy it was to speak about his feelings, and now that he had started, the words just flowed. 

’She’s just always been there, so I never saw it coming,’ Newt continued, a melancholic smile adorning his lips as he recalls the day he met you, how you helped him with his ankle. How, since then, you’ve always been by his side, growing with him, changing with him, supporting him and everyone else around you. 

’Saw what?’ Thomas asked.

‘I never saw that I could have a future after the Maze, after all of this,’ Newt explained. ‘That I would want a future… with Y/N.’ And with that, his tears finally spilled over, the pressure in his chest bursting into sobs that wracked his whole body. Newt was vaguely aware that Thomas was now holding him, and so he wrapped his arms tight around his friend, around his brother.

‘I love her, Tommy,’ Newt whispered over Thomas’ shoulder, his words obscured somewhat by his tears and holding back sobs. ‘And I’m scared I’ll never be able to tell her before I go.’

‘Hey,’ Thomas said, pushing Newt to arm’s length. He kept one hand on Newt’s shoulder and used his other to grip Newt’s neck, forcing their eyes to lock. ‘We’re going to find her – and Minho, and the other immunes. We’re going to get you that serum that helps with the Flare – as much of it as possible – and you’re going to tell her. You’re not dying. No one is dying. You hear me?’

No one could replace Alby, but the way Thomas was taking control of the situation reminded Newt of his old friend. How kind yet stern he could be. How hopeful yet pragmatic he was. It was something familiar that Newt was thankful for. He quickly calmed down, wiped away his tears and nodded at Thomas.

‘Good that,’ Thomas said, a small proud smile gracing his lips at his use of Newt’s common phrase. 

Newt couldn’t help a chuckle as well. ‘Good that, indeed,’ he agreed, and followed Thomas back inside the hideout to finalise their plan to get into the WCKD facility.

…and you’re going to tell her. You’re not dying. 

There was a nagging voice in the back of Newt’s head that was telling him not to believe Thomas. That Newt was going to die, or worse, turn into a crank and hurt his loved ones. That voice had followed him from the Maze, to the Scorch, and now the Last City. It was the voice that had driven him over the edge of the Maze walls all those years ago. But not anymore.

Newt had to keep hope, just as Y/N had taught him. He just had to be brave.

~

Y/N sat in the corner of her white-walled cell, hugging her knees to her chest as she rested her head on top. She’d sat there for hours, perhaps days. Y/N lost track of time after her first month in WCKD’s facility. 

There were no windows, and the lights never dimmed. She pressed her eyes into her knees in the hopes of downing out the incessant white light. Her eyes ached with sleep deprivation, but she refused to sleep. The nightmares were much worse to deal with, and they always came whenever she closed her eyes.

Images of her friends dying in the Maze and the Scorch, of Grievers chasing her, of her friends turning into cranks and attacking her. Images fed to her by WCKD. 

She knew they weren’t real, but she could never wake herself up in time to escape them. So, she stayed awake, knowing that she’ll have no choice but to face her nightmares when the doctors and scientists come to test on her again.

Y/N shivered at the thought of seeing another needle, of seeing her blood drained from her while WCKD turned her mind against her. When will it be enough? She might’ve lost track of time, but Y/N knew she’d been in the facility for a while now. If they hadn’t found anything by now, something told Y/N that nothing she gave would ever be enough. That included her life.

She knew Thomas and Newt would be dumb enough to come after her and Minho – that’s just the kind of people they were. Her heart ached at the thought that their efforts would be in vain. 

Y/N hadn’t seen Minho since they arrived, having been separated from each other and the other immunes. Something about how they were the most promising subjects, she overheard from a scientist one time. Y/N didn’t know if Minho was alive, and if he was, what condition he was in. 

But Minho was strong, the strongest of all the Gladers in Y/N’s opinion. If he was being tortured like her, he would be able to hold on. Y/N highly doubted she would last much longer.

The rest of us can only hope to be as brave as you…

Y/N wasn’t sure if Newt knew she was actually awake that first night in the Scorch, but she’d heard him, his words so soft she thought she’d dreamt it at first. But it had been real; Newt thought she was brave.

She was too dehydrated to produce tears, but an ugly sob desperately tried to escape her aching chest. She bit her lips instead, hard enough to draw a little blood, and the sob died out, leaving her body quiet except for her mind.

I’m sorry Newt, but I am not brave.

Even so, Y/N refused to crumble to WCKD anymore. They’d taken everything from her. Her life, her memories, her loved ones, her friends. Even her hope – something she so naively believed no one could take from her. They would not take her dignity.

She raised her head at the sound of her cell door unlocking, blinking a few times as bright light flooded her vision once more. Two WCKD soldiers and two scientists stood by the door, and Y/N spied a gurney just behind them. 

One of the scientists – young male, maybe in his early twenties – stepped forward. ‘Time for more testing, Y/N,’ he said in a cold tone. But he had the sense to look sympathetic as his eyes roamed over Y/N as she stood up, showing how pale her S/C skin had become, how dark the circles beneath her eyes were, how the cargo pants and grey t-shirt hung off her in areas where she used to fill.

Y/N knew it was useless, but still she ran for the door, pushing past the scientists with ease despite her weakened state. However, she hit the soldiers like a brick wall, unable to fight against them as they restrained her arms and pressed her against the wall. The male scientist recovered quickly and injected her with a serum that made her drowsy enough that she wasn’t in control of her body. She was conscious as the soldiers strapped her to the gurney and the four of them wheeled her down corridor after corridor, and all she could do was watch fluorescent lights pass her by as she stared at the ceiling. 

Soon enough, she was in a familiar room: the test lab. 

‘It hasn’t been that long since we last tested her,’ the other scientist – a female, about the same age as her co-worker – said, her words laced with worry. ‘We put her under again, we risk losing her for good this time.’

‘I didn’t make the call,’ the male said as he continued to set up equipment around Y/N. ‘When Janson says he wants a cure, I don’t question him. Do you?’

The female didn’t answer, switching her focus to helping her co-worker. Y/N could slowly feel the serum wearing off – it was obviously only a light dose, the scientists knowing they’d put her under when they began testing. 

But just as they unstrapped her to move her to the nightmare simulator, the room shook, sending Y/N rolling to the ground as glass and steel broke around her. 

Sounds were muffled briefly and her vision blurred in and out of focus. She couldn’t hear what exactly the soldiers were shouting, but she saw them run out of the room alongside other soldiers. That just left her and the scientists. 

Y/N flexed her fingers, the serum completely wearing off. Before she could stand though, two hands roughly grabbed her arms and hauled her to her feet. ‘Come on, Y/N,’ the male scientist said, pushing her towards the machine. ‘Just one more trip under…’

Fear electrified Y/N’s every nerve. No, not again. With a desperate cry, she shoved the male into the utensils table, sending him and the tools scattering across the ground. Before he could get up, Y/N straddled his upper body and slammed his arms into the ground.

‘Get off me!’ he yelled, struggling violently beneath Y/N. He managed to twist them both around until she was the one pinned to the ground. Y/N struggled but to no avail. She was significantly weaker than she was when she was first captured and he knew that.

‘You little brat,’ he spat in her face. ‘Ungrateful, selfish immunes. Your duty is to save us all! You–’

He was cut off when he suddenly went slack, falling unconscious on top of Y/N. She scrambled out from underneath him, then looked up from the floor to find the female scientist with a syringe in her hand. She looked between her unconscious co-worker then Y/N, a scared and disbelieving expression morphing her delicate features. 

‘Go,’ the scientist finally said, her voice shaky, but the resolve in her eyes told Y/N that she wouldn’t chase after her. The room – no, the whole building – shook again, and when Y/N looked out the window, she realised why.

The city outside was on fire. Buildings crumbled, and Y/n could hear the screams and cries of civilians through the broken windows. The scientist wouldn’t chase her because there was no point. 

This was the end.

‘Go!’ The scientist insisted, and Y/N didn’t think twice. She picked herself up, ignoring the cuts and scraps of glass it caused her, and ran out of the room.

She ran into the corridor, ignoring the cries of soldiers and other scientists who recognised her as a subject. She didn’t know where she was going, but this was the most freedom she’d had in forever.

Then a thought came to her – Minho. She had to find him, he surely had to be alive. She would run through every floor if she had to to find him. So she ran, looking into every test lab, every storage closest, every break room on the floor. 

‘Minho!’ she cried, uncaring at this point if someone heard her. She just wanted to find him. She didn’t want to die without a familiar face with her. ‘Minho, where are you?’

She rounded a corner, right into the chest of a WCKD soldier. He was caught by surprise, giving Y/N an opportunity to slam him into the wall. It was like her fear was giving her a boost of strength, as she kneed him in the groin, sending him to the ground. He dropped the pistol he was holding, and she quickly picked it up and smacked the butt over the back of his head. He fell to the floor in one last scuffle and laid unmoving as Y/N sucked in deep breaths.

‘Y/N?’

She whirled around at the familiar call of her name, only to find three other people had entered the corridor. Thomas, Minho, and Newt. Her eyes scanned over them all, heart aching with an intense relief it threatened to crush her chest. ‘Guys?’ Her voice was hoarse with disuse and exhaustion. She was surprised she even had a voice after all her screaming.

Newt stepped forward, a relieved smile gracing his lips. ‘Yeah, love,’ he said, sounding on the verge of tears. ‘It’s us.’

Y/N’s first instinct was to run into his arms, the only place she’d felt since leaving the Maze. But she took a closer look at him. He was paler than when she last saw him, almost sickly with how dark the circles under his eyes were. Crank.

She pointed the pistol at her friends, causing them to raise their hands in shock. ‘Whoa, Y/N, it’s us!’ Thomas exclaimed.

‘No,’ she said, her voice cracking ever so slightly. ‘How do I know I’m not in that simulator again? How do I know this isn’t just another test, another trial?’

‘What are you talking about, Y/N?’ Newt asked, worry crinkling his brow. 

’She doesn’t trust her mind,’ Minho said, as if in explanation. ‘Boy, they really did a number on her…’

‘Shut up!’ Y/N unlocked the safety and pointed the gun at Minho. ‘You’re just trying to trick me. Make me think everything is all right. But it’s just a lie. You’re not here. You’re not here…’

Newt stepped into the firing line. ‘We are here, love. I promise, we’re really here.’

‘Newt…’ Thomas warned, but Newt remained, eyes locked on Y/N’s.

Y/N couldn’t look away from Newt. He sounded so genuine, so much more real than previous simulations. But WCKD couldn’t be trusted, and they were wearing soldier uniforms…

Her hands shook but her voice was strong. ‘Prove it,’ she said. ’Tell me something only the real Newt would know.’

Newt swallowed thickly. ‘Okay, um… You cut yourself when you tried out being a Slicer and had to have Clint and Jeff fix you up. That’s when you thought being a Medjack would be a good idea.’

‘WCKD was watching us the whole time. They would’ve seen that,’ she countered, using both hands to grip the gun. 

‘Okay, okay,’ Newt said, looking away a moment to think of something else. When he finally looked back at her, he was calm once more, eyes genuine and sincere. ‘How about how I jumped off the walls of the Maze in an attempt to kill myself?’

The world around the four of them seemed to freeze, as if the world wasn’t collapsing outside. To Y/N’s knowledge, Newt had never told anyone the truth of what happened that day. It was the shocked and tragic expressions on both Minho and Thomas’ faces respectively that had Y/N loosening her grip on the gun slightly.

Newt took a small step closer, eyes never straying from her. ‘I had lost all hope of getting out of that bloody maze. So I did the one thing I could do to control the situation. But I failed.’ He stepped closer again. ‘I was embarrassed, ashamed. I was just a coward. But you healed me and told me something I will never forget. I have held onto it like a lifeline through the Maze, through the Scorch, and all the time I was looking for you.’

He took one final step towards her, unfazed at how the gun pressed hard against his chest. Now that he was so close, Y/N saw just how sick he was. He looked like the early stage victims of the Flare they’d seen in the decrepit city they’d lost Brenda and Thomas in temporarily. And while Y/N refused to believe Newt – her beloved, sweet Newt – was infected, his eyes were the same as always. Open, honest, and truthful.

‘The rest of us can only hope to be as brave as you.’

It wasn’t the fact that he knew the exact words – again, WCKD had cameras everywhere in that Maze, they would’ve heard it. It was instead the emotion tied to the words. She felt them, felt the lifeline they’d created for him in his darkest moment. He wasn’t lying, and that meant he was real.

Finally, she allowed the sob to break free as she dropped the gun and threw her arms around Newt’s neck. He breathed out in relief, bringing her closer to his chest, face pressed into her H/C hair.

‘It’s really you,’ she whimpered, grasping tighter to the person she’s always been able to rely on. The person who has always protected her and brought out the best in her. Her closest friend, her safety net, her home. 

‘It is, love,’ he said into her hair, breathing her in deeply. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you before.’

‘It’s okay,’ she said, pulling away to look up at him then to the other two. ‘I can’t believe you came after us.’

‘I know right,’ Minho said, punching Thomas’ arm lightly. ‘Dumb shanks.’

‘You can berate us later,’ Thomas said, rubbing his arm. ‘Right now, we’ve got to get out of here before Lawrence brings down the whole city.’

Y/N went to ask what he meant but gripped onto Newt instead as the building shook again.

‘Come on, let’s go,’ Newt said, grabbing Y/N’s hand with one hand, and holding a launcher in the other. Together, the four of them ran to escape WCKD once and for all.

~

‘Brenda!’

Y/N didn’t care about the rain of bullets and walls of fire around her as she ran for the berg. After hearing Teresa’s broadcast, she needed to get the cure back to Newt fast. Leaving him was one of the hardest things she has had to do. He wasn’t in great condition, but Thomas insisted that he’d take care of Newt. But the medicine Thomas had given Brenda all those months ago didn’t just buy her time, it had cured her completely. It could do the same for Newt.

If she could make it in time.

‘Brenda!’ Y/N cried as she spotted her friend. ‘The cure! I need the cure!’

Brenda understood, immediately retrieving one of the extra capsules Mary had made from Thomas’ blood before WCKD raided the camp. ‘Here,’ she said, passing over the injector. 

‘Thanks!’ Y/N said, already sprinting back into the war zone before anyone could stop her. 

She could feel it, the exhaustion, the strain she was putting her body under. Underfed and under trained, she was struggling. But she refused to stop. Newt had come all this way to find her, risked his life to get her out of WCKD’s clutches when he could’ve been administered the temporary cure and been safe on the berg already. No, Y/N refused to let him die without trying.

Minho, Brenda, Frypan, and Gally – Y/N was still shocked about that revelation, but that was for another time to discuss - followed around her, covering her with guns and other weapons as they ran through the war zone.

After an eternity of running, the group rounded a corner to find a sight that made Y/N feel like she was back in the nightmare simulator. Newt was leaning over Thomas with a knife aimed at his chest.

‘Newt, no!’ Y/N cried, running towards the two boys without thought. 

Newt faced her at the call of his name, and she froze as she saw his black eyes. Dark veins branched over his skin and black blood dribbled from his chin. He was a full-blown crank now. 

He raced at her, snarling as he swung the knife at her throat. She ducked just in time and rolled away as he slammed the knife down where her neck was. She quickly jumped to her feet, and despite her fatigue, muscle memory took over her legs, then her hands. That first night in the Scorch came to mind, how her and Newt sparred. The injector was her knife, and Newt her proper opponent.

‘Newt, it’s me,’ she said, slipping into her Medjack demeanour – calm and steady. ‘It’s Y/N. Please, snap out of it for a moment so I can help you.’

She thought he would run at her again, but his brows crinkled with concern and he looked at the knife in his shaky hands. He looked back at her, and the voice he spoke with broke her heart. It was a mixture of his sweet accent and a gargled croak where blood clogged his throat. 

‘Y/N…’ he started. ‘Run away… Before… Before I kill you.’

The scene reminded her of the time he came in with his injured ankle. How desperate he was to fade into nothing because he was scared and ashamed of what he’d done. But just like then, she refused to be scared of him. 

Y/N shook her head. ‘I’m not leaving you, Newt,’ she said. ‘None of us will.’

Newt seemed to realise there were more people than just her and Thomas, turning around to see the others. The sight of them seemed to distress him, though, as he snarled angrily and charged at her. She shuffled back as he swung at her again and again, but as she stepped back again, she tripped on something. She fell onto her back, knocking the air out of her lungs. Before she could gather herself up, Newt was on her, straddling her similar to how he had Thomas pinned before. Newt raised the knife to bring down on her but was tackled by Thomas.

They rolled for a little, then scrambled to their feet as they fought once more. This was Y/N’s only chance. She pushed herself up and ran for the boys, injector at the ready. Newt was bringing the knife forward in a wide arc that would gut Thomas when Y/N threw herself in between them, slamming the injector into Newt’s arm.

Right as his drove the knife into her stomach.

‘Y/N!’ 

She wasn’t sure who called her name, because all she could focus on was Newt as some of the blackness in his eyes cleared and she saw some of his gorgeous brown eyes. She also felt her body finally giving up. As if it knew that this was the end. After all the torture and pain, she had stayed alive so long for one reason. To save Newt – the boy who had been there from the start. So much so she hadn’t realised until he wasn’t there how much he meant to her. How he’d wormed his way into her heart and consumed it without her even knowing. 

She gripped his hand that held the knife in her stomach, unfurled his fingers from the handle, and brought them to her chest where her heart was slowly slowing down. Her weak legs gave out, and she brought Newt down to his knees with her. She could’ve been imagining things, but she swore she saw recognition in his half-black eyes which made her smile as tears finally fell from her eyes.

‘It’s okay, Newt,’ she whispered. ‘It’s okay because… I love you.’

Her vision blurred and she finally let go of Newt as the both of them collapsed to the ground. Her breaths were short and sharp as the pain made itself known. A rush of feet thumped around her, and she had the slightest awareness that someone was moving her, but she didn’t care. She was finally at peace as darkness, at last, consumed her.

~

Y/N woke to the sound of waves rolling over on sand. The first thing she saw was grey canvas, then rolled her head around to see she was lying on a cot in a small tent with tables and medical supplies similar to how her Medjack hut looked. But she wasn’t alone.

‘Oh my God.’ Brenda’s face came into focus as the girl crouched by Y/N’s cot, disbelief and relief morphing her gentle features. ‘You’re awake! You’re finally awake!’

‘Ow,’ Y/N clasped at her head at the sudden loudness. ‘Could you lower your voice please?’

‘Yes, right, sorry,’ Brenda said, but her lips split in a bright smile as she helped Y/N sit up. ‘I’m just so happy you’re okay.’

‘What happened?’ Y/N asked, all she remembered was being stabbed then falling unconscious. She pulled up her fresh linen shirt to see her wound bandaged. ‘I thought I was done for.’

‘So did all of us,’ Brenda admitted, her tone sombre as she pulled up a seat beside the cot. ‘We got you to the berg as quickly as possible and Vince got you stable, but you just weren’t waking up. It’s been a week.’

‘A week?’ Y/N made to get up but sat back down as her wound pulled in an unpleasant way.

‘Whoa, where do you think you’re going?’ Brenda asked stabilising Y/N back in her bed. ‘You’ve just come out of a coma induced by physical and mental torture. Not to mention you were stabbed.’

‘I’m fine. Trust me, I’m trained… somewhat,’ Y/N said, this time able to swing her legs over the side of her cot. Brenda didn’t try and stop her, but she did have to help Y/N when she stood. ‘Now, where is Newt?’ Brenda didn’t answer right away, and tears threatened to pool in Y/N’s eyes at what her silence could mean. ‘Brenda… Is he… Is he alive?’

Brenda, again, didn’t answer, and her face didn’t give anything away either. Instead, she just held back the flap of the tent and motioned for Y/N to exit. Y/N took cautious steps forward as she followed Brenda into a completely new place that had her staring in awe.

It was a bustling camp where sleeping quarters and other spaces were mapped out by canvas strung up on carved wood pillars and posts. Y/N spied a kitchen area where she swore she heard Frypan laughing with some others. 

There was a gathering area where a giant stone stood in front of the seats. There were names carved into it, like what they used to do in the Glade. Y/N tried to make out if a certain blonde’s name was on it. She caught familiar names like Alby and Chuck, Clint and Jeff. 

‘Y/N?’ 

She swung around to find Brenda smiling as she was joined by Thomas, Minho, and Jorge. The three of them ran at her, arms wide open to capture her in a hug.

‘You crazy shank, Minho said, laughter on his lips. ‘Look who finally decided to join the living again.’

‘And here I thought I was the lazy slinthead for sleeping for so long,’ Thomas said jokingly, pulling Y/N in for another hug. ’I’m so relieved.’

‘Welcome back, hermana,’ Jorge said, a warm smile gracing his lips as he gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder.

‘Good to be back,’ Y/N replied, smiling at the three males. ‘What happened after I thought I’d died?’

Thomas went to reply, but Minho cut in. ‘We’ll explain later. Right now, I think you should go say hi to someone else.’

Confused, Y/N followed Minho’s gaze to Brenda, who stood atop a hill and was staring over the other side of it. Y/N quickly reached Brenda’s position and followed her gaze to a large garden that people were working on. But her breath caught at the sight of a familiar blond at the edge of the gardens talking and pointing in all directions to people.

‘Hey, Newt!’ Brenda called out, causing the blond to turn around and look up. At first, he saw Brenda, but his gaze soon fell on Y/N and his whole face changed into disbelief.

With the other gardeners forgotten, he started climbing up the hill, and Y/N couldn’t wait another moment so she started walking down the hill. 

They met in the middle, with Y/N standing at Newt’s height on the uphill. Neither said anything to begin with, both in disbelief and awe at who stood in front of them. Y/N looked over Newt, noting he still looked pale and somewhat sickly. But the dark veins were gone, as was the black blood and his black eyes. And the sun shone so brightly that his hair looked golden. It was as if he was never infected to begin with.

With a shaky hand, she reached out to rest her hand over his beating heart. ‘You’re alive,’ she whispered, too scared to voice it too loudly in case this was also another nightmare. 

But he proved her doubts wrong as he rested his own hand on top of hers. ‘I am,’ he said, and the usual warmth of his voice truly convinced her he was real. 

His face pinched suddenly with concern and guilt. ‘I’m so sorry, Y/N,’ he said, his hand tightening slightly over hers. ‘I hurt you. I almost…’

‘It’s okay,’ she interrupted, using her free hand to cradle is cheek and keep his eyes on her. ‘You didn’t. I am here, too. Looks like we both saved each other.’

To her relief Newt smiled. It was a genuine, happy smile, something she hadn’t seen on him in a long time. He nuzzled into her hand briefly, before bringing it down with his free hand so he held her hands between them. 

‘Before I passed out,’ he started, ‘I remember you saying something.’

‘Oh.’ A blush heated upon her cheeks, but she refused to look away from him. ‘Right. I did say something.’

She was trying to play it cool, but as soon as his deep brown eyes fixed on her, she knew he could see right through her. But he didn’t smile smugly, he didn’t tease. He actually looked scared as his jaw clenched, fighting to find the next words to speak. 

‘You said you love me,’ he finally said, words tight but hopeful. ‘Is that true?’

Y/N’s mouth dried up suddenly, constricted by all the things she wished to say but couldn’t say all at once. It’s not like she was scared, she just never thought she would live long enough to have a future, let alone one with love. One with Newt.

But she had – she had survived WCKD’s cruelty, she had survived the terrors of the old world, she had survived when so many of her friends hadn’t. And it was her duty to live her gift of a life to the fullest.

‘Yes,’ she finally said, and it was like breathing in fresh air after being underground for so long. ‘I love you, Newt. I don’t know when or how it happened, but I do. I love you.’ 

There was a second of hesitation, but then Newt broke out into a wide smile, and Y/N swore she saw tears brim in his eyes. He suddenly reached one hand up to cradle her neck as he pulled Y/N in for a sweet kiss that simultaneously knocked the air out of her and breathed new life into her. He held her neck and hip, and she pressed her hands against his chest, satisfied to feel his heart thundering beneath her hands. The heart that almost never beat again, the heart that had saved her over and over again. 

The kiss was short but was no less breath-taking, and when they pulled apart neither could stop the smiles on their faces. 

‘I love you, too,’ Newt said. ‘If that wasn’t already obvious.’

Y/N threw her head back in a hearty laugh. She slung her arms around Newt’s neck, a cheeky grin dancing across her lips. ‘I’m not so sure. Maybe we could try that again to make sure?’

‘Cheeky bugger,’ he murmured as he pressed his lips to hers again. Y/N sighed into the kiss, grasping the baby hairs at the base of his head. 

They pulled apart at the sound of their friends whooping and clapping atop the hill. Y/N felt her face erupt with embarrassed heat, to which Newt laughed as she ducked her head into his chest. 

‘All right, come on lovebirds!’ Minho called out. ‘Dinner’s almost ready.’

As they walked down out of sight, Y/N went to follow but was stopped by a loose grip on her wrist.

‘What is it?’ she asked as she turned back to Newt.

‘I just…’ Newt turned to the gardens below, then to the water, then to the sunset that bathed the whole camp in beautiful hues of orange, pink and purple. When he finally turned back to Y/N, she thought he couldn’t look any more handsome with that pure sunshine smile and sparkle in his eyes. ‘Thanks.’

‘For what?’ she asked.

‘For teaching me how to be brave,’ he answered.

Y/N gave his hand a squeeze. ‘You were always brave, Newt,’ she said. ‘It’s how I learned how to be brave in the first place.’

Newt squeezed her hand in return, then they walked hand in hand back up the hill and down to dinner to where their friend awaited them. 

Where the lives they never imagined they’d get a chance to live awaited them.

#maze runner newt x reader #newt x reader #tmr newt x reader #maze runner imagines #maze runner x reader #the maze runner #minho #tmr frypan #tmr thomas #tmr minho #tmr newt #tmr gally #tmr brenda #tmr jorge #the death cure #the scorch trials #romance #angst #friends to lovers

[factual-fantasy]

23 Asks :)))

Google says that means Hunger in Spanish soooo

Eat up my child

I feel like it would be really hard to mistake Foxy for a dog. "Foxy the pirate Fox" posters are everywhere. Foxy is bright red and has a obviously fox like tail. His name is Foxy.

But there's always bound to be that one parent who doesn't get it, "Sweetie go play with the big dog :}}" But no one would throw a bone at him because they think he's a dog. That wouldn't happen-

Once I'm free from this big project I would like to draw some digital circus. But who knows, my interest in it could die out before the project is done-

@professional-idiocy

Uhg. Always super frustrating. Thanks for letting me know. 👍

Google says that's an economy/nation question. I don't talk bout that stuff here sooo... sorry-

My main headcannon for Sunny is that he is also Moony. He is 1 animatronic with no split personalities. Sunny and Moony are the same animatronic with 1 personality, wearing 2 different costumes.

I don't think taking inspiration would be much of an issue. Just stay away from straight up taking my idea word for word and doing the exact same thing as me. And don't take my idea word for word, add a bit to it and then call it yours.

And as for the offline stuff. Going against artists wishes is still wrong even if I cant see it.

If people seriously cannot interact with me without going against my wishes. Please block me. Stay as far away from my content as possible. That would be more respectful to me and yourself.

@mysteriousl0ser

YEEEAAAAHH!! All good characters. I like Caine for his unique design, plus he's really funny. Same with Kinger, I like his design and he's really funny to me XD Perfectly cut screams are my weakness.

@beryl-shade

Yes! And in the true swap its Bonnie! :}}

@shawnmlinsitly08

Thank you so much! I hope you like the rest of the artwork I have to offer! :}}}

@abaroo

I haven't planned for Seam to get his eye back, no.. <:/

Also-

WAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! 😭😭😭

I remember reading about that style of line art and how it was "bad". "Chicken scratching" I think its called. And how people said that its not a proper way to draw and makes the art look bad. But it DOESN'T!!

Controlling lines and getting the perfect shapes is so much easier with chicken scratching. And if you know how to control it and clean it up, its not as messing looking as people think!

I've used chicken scratching for line art becuase its much easier and not as messy as people think. I'm so glad you noticed my line art and I'm honored that you would incorporate it into your artwork! I hopes it helps you as much as it helped me! :}}}

@pinkbomb08

I'm sure Seam and the others would devour anything you gave them. Even if they didn't like the taste. Beggars cant be choosers!

Also thank you so much! I'll do my best! :))

Maybe.? I could see them applying ointment to rags and carefully slipping them under and at first it feels nice.. But then having to take the rags out to apply more ointment could cause more pain and irratation..

There's also this property to the chains where they can get tighter at times.. maybe they'd have rags under the chains occasionally. But due to the tightening and irritation maybe they can only do it for a short time. As to not cause Seam any more discomfort..

@chickenmilk120

I've been hanging in there! :')

Thank you, and I'll do my best! :}

Oh yeah, there would definitely be this "cool down time" after every mirror where Jevil is wiped out and needs time to get his strength back. The natures of these mirrors is still a bit unknown, even to Jevil. So the first time he collapsed out of exhaustion must have been pretty scary for Seam.. who knows what was wrong with him..

As for the darkener thing, my AU functions off of my bizarre headcannon.

In my AUs, Darkeners, lighteners, and Undertale Monsters and humans.. are 4 separate beings with different properties.

A Deltarune Human is different from an Undertale Human. And a Undertale Monster is not a darkener, or a lightener. They are their own category. Not saying I believe any of this is canon to the games, its likely not. This is just the structure my AU is built on.

And I had this idea that Deltarune and Undertale stuff.. doesn't really mix. Or at least it rarely does. The idea is that the magic that makes up these 4 beings are all different. They don't mix usually, they just clash together.

Asgore cant heal Spamton becuase his magic is sooo different from the magic in Deltarune. Spamton's body just rejects this magic because of how foreign/different it is. A darkener could maybe heal him. And perhaps a Lightener could heal him.? But no one originating from Undertale can give their magic to him. They are just completely different.

Its the same when it comes to food. Some food is universal. Its so simple that nearly any kind of magic can break it down. But a lot of the times the darkeners bodies just, cant absorb Undertale foods. They're so different..

As for advantages or disadvantages.. maybe? There could be a case where a powerful Undertale monster tries to hurt Jevil. But his magic is just, structured sooo differently its basically ineffective. It could also work the other way. Maybe Seam is trying to step up and protect himself. And he only has to use a tiny amount to blow the Undertale opponent away. Its because his magic is so different it pierced right through his foe. Maybe stuff like that.? :0

That is an interesting question.. I'd say it kind'a depends on the AU.?

And like, none of my AUs are actually completed. None of them. Things are always changing or I'm always adding more too it and the story never ends. But still I develop them at different speeds depending on the AU..

For example. My Welcome home AU. The structure for that AU and basic plot was thought up in like 3 days. Same thing with my Digital Circus AU actually,

But my FNAF AU? It took WEEKS to sift through all the games and pick everything apart and carefully construct my own timeline and think of a story for every single animatronic and have it all line up and-

Then there's my Deltarune AU. The basic idea of a traveling Jevil was thought up and constructed in like a day. But the rest of the au is weeks in the making. And its constantly changing and I'm always adding stuff and rearranging things GRAHHH!

It really depends <XD

And some ideas do go unwanted/unused overtime. But mostly I overwrite my own ideas with new ones. I think of a cool idea and I push everything in the AU aside to make it work. Even if the structure of my AU suffers a bit. <XD

Yeah! Its good to see those guys out and about. And hey Green Truck's ok! He just has a strange way of starting up. It means that he's harder to steal now XDD

@beryl-shade

Yes! Her voice box doesn't work if its not attached to her Jaw. Same with the all the other diner animatronics :0

I pictured Seam being MUCH younger. I thought of King and Queen being like Asgore and Toriel. Being these powerful boss monsters that live for 100s of years.

So while King and Queen are 100s of years old. Seam is like.. in his 50s or something <XD

@crimson-thinker

WAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! THAT MEANS THE WORLD TO ME!!😭😭💗💞😭🍤💕

Thank you! Also after googling it, I kind'a see the resemblance XD

ALSKAKD GREG BEAR XDD That's perfect!!

Also thank you so much! Same to you! :D

@lathan-chillyfilm

I've never played Dr. Mario & Dr. Luigi so any elements from that game were not added to my AU.. :(

But Mario and Luigi bringing foreign bacteria and illnesses could be an issue.. or it might not! :0 After all I don't know if human viruses can be dangerous to fungal people <XD

#my response #fnaf security breach #deltarune #undertale #seam and jevil

[emryaxar935]

Ghost x Fem!Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Look its not my fault he has his issues." You sigh. Price had called you out for having problems during missions. But the thing is its not your fault. Ghost keeps nagging you the whole time and even after that he's bitching about your position.

He was your Lieutenant so you had no choice but to deal with his shit 24/7 no matter how much you wanted to back hand him as he sat judgingly next to you during a sniper mission... You weren't about to just throw away your military placement because of him.

"I know... Just try to shrug it off the best you can. But don't ignore him! He's still your Lieutenant."

Price warned you now letting you take your leave back to the shooting range.

You entered grabbing your sniper and reloaded it. You had to practice. Maybe he'd get off your back if you pleased him enough with some improvement.

Now steadying the sniper you aimed to one of the farthest targets and fired hitting the human shaped target in the collar bone.

"Eh could be better..."

"That's something we can agree on." A deep British accent sounded from not to far behind you.

You rolled your eyes and refocus your sniper again on the target. Before you could shoot however a large hand pushed down the front of your sniper.

"Your position is bad."

You've had enough of his shit. Couldn't he just let you improve in peace?

"Ugh you know what?! I don't have to put up with your bullshit!"

You turned around swiftly and wacked him with your sniper as if it was a baseball bat. He stumbled back allowing you to slip past him to leave the range.

"God you are so insufferable!" You yelled as you busted through the iron door to the range and walked out.

Ghost was somewhat shook by your outburst. It wasn't the pain in his head from the collision with your sniper. It was the fact this had never happened before. You never yelled at him not once. You were usually quiet aside from an occasional huff of annoyance and snarky comment. But this was different you had reacted violently to his criticism.

"Hey uh saw a pissed lookin (Y/N) walking away from here... What happened?" Price asked leaning on the wood rail support next to Ghost.

"I said she had poor positioning with her sniper..."

Price knew there was more seeing him holding his head.

"And?"

"And... She hit me with her sniper..."

Price sighed sharply shaking his head.

"You two and your constant battles and bickering. Give her some space for now we have a mission tomorrow and I don't need my Lieutenant getting a concussion before hand."

Price stood up straight and walked away.

"Yes sir..."

You and Ghost didn't talk for the rest of the night. Getting ready for the day ahead you weren't excited to face him again. You were actually kinda scared. What would he do when you were face to face again? Would he get payback? He's probably pissed at you... There was nothing to do but shake the thought away as you layed down and stared at the ceiling. After a while of thinking things over of the days events you finally fall asleep not so thrilled to work beside Ghost tomorrow.

You woke up still feeling tired you didn't remember how long into the night you fell asleep, but to the feel of it you had at least 2 hours of sleep max. You groaned as you sat up.

"Time to face Ghost..."

Getting your mission gear on you head out to meet with the others at the planning table. Outside the room door you can hear Soap and Ghost were already in there. Great you thought putting your head down on the way in. You didn't want to make much contact with him at the moment so you keep your distance and sat in the corner as you waited for the others.

"Oh hey (Y/N) didn't notice you came in your very quiet." Soap greeted you from the other side of the room next to Ghost. That had made Ghost aware of your presence now.

"Yeah hi Soap." You looked up to Soap for a second before looking away again not wanting to make eye contact with Ghost who seemingly stared at you. What is his deal with staring at you?!

Finally your saving grace that took Ghosts piercing eyes of you was Price and Gaz finally showing up to the party. You got up to join them listening in to Price as he explained your positions.

"Alright and (Y/N) you'll be sniping with ghost over on this building got it?" Ghost nods along but you, you were annoyed.

"Why can't I be on the ground this time? Put Soap up on the roof with his boyfriend." Your words laced with hate as you turned to glare at Ghost.

"He's not my boyfriend." Ghost barked back with that iconic deep and threatening voice of his.

Soap laughed awkwardly in the tension you caused.

You all exited the planning room heading to the chopper. You, Soap and Ghost were the only ones on this mission Price and Gaz would be monitoring from base tonight. Getting settled in you sat between both of the men as the chopper took off.

"You put them on the roof together on purpose didn't you?" Gaz commented looking over to a defeated looking Price.

"Yes I did... They have to learn to put aside their differences and work together." He sighs heading back to the planning room with Gaz.

You had all gotten to your positions after drop off. Setting up your snipers you and Ghost sat beside each other silently. Though you could feel his eyes on you the whole time.

"Is there something you need Lieutenant?" He didn't say anything for a little bit.

"(Y/N)?"

"What?!" You snap at him.

"Look Im sorry ok. I know your mad and I get it Im an asshole..." He looked away. "I don't say the things I do to annoy you. I do it so you are safe."

You turn your attention to him confused by what he meant. He looks up at you making eye contact as he explains. "I just don't want you to make mistakes here... This stuff is serious and you could get hurt.. Or worse and we can't afford to lose ya... You know?"

You had never see this look in his eyes before he looked lost. He wasn't normally so fragile seeming, always tough and hard with expressing much especially because you cant really see his face.

"You matter a lot to this team. A lot more than you think really... You matter to me too. Im sorry I upset you but Im willing to improve on my communication with you... If you'll let me?" You stare into his eyes for a second realizing how he is feeling right now you could see it.He does mean what he says. You drop your sniper sliding over to give him a little hug. He flinched not expecting it but accepted it anyway hugging you back.

"Alright Ill try to get along better. And uh sorry for hitting you with the sniper yesterday..." You giggle nervously as you sit infront of him." It fine. I had it coming for a while now... So we ok now? Or are you still mad?"

"Oh I'm still a bit mad but if you can prove to treat me better Ill possibly think about forgiving you." You punch his shoulder playfully giving him a genuine smile. You could tell he was smiling to because of how the corners of his eyes creased slightly.

"Aw you two are adorable." Soap chimed through your guy's ear pieces.Ghosts eyes widened then turned to slightly angry.

"Shut it MacTavish"

Soap laughed on the other end and made some more mockery of Ghost as the day continued. Back in the fight again you and Ghost took out some reinforcements of the enemy that tried to get to Soap. Ghost left you alone this time focusing on the targets more.

Soon after Soap emerged from the building carrying a bag that would have our next hit as to what our next mission would be. Going down the buildings fire escape you run to get to the chopper once more along with Soap to return to base and celebrate a successful mission.

You had all decided to go to the bar for some drinks to wind down.

Arriving you at it to together at a big booth and talk amongst one another laughing at occasional jokes about training with rookies.

It had been a while into the time you've been there that you lost count of how much you drank you definitely felt woozy though enough so that the others noticed.

"Had a bit much there did ya?" Ghost laughed pushing your glass away from you.

"Should take her back to base. She's lookin a bit out of it at the moment." The others nodded watching Ghost get up pulling you with him.

"Ill be back... Or not depends on if Im willing to stay up any longer."

He lifted you up into his arms and left as you were close to passing out from exhaustion.

Ghost set you down on your bed and helped take your vest and boots off so you weren't uncomfortable.

As he undid your vest you had put your arms around his neck pulling him into a strange hug.

"Uhh (Y/N) Im trying to get this vest off... You mind?"

He tried to pull away but you held onto him, stuck as if you were glued to him.

Ghost stops and allows you to hug him as he sits down next to you.

"Do you hate me?" You mumble into his shirt.

Ghost finally detaches your arms and pulls you up onto his lap. "No I don't hate you at all. I am actually quite fond of you." You smile softly pleased with his reply. "Your not going to let me leave are you? "You shook your head and moved your right hand to tug on the bottom of his mask. "(Y/N) you know Im not going to take it off right?"

You frown and stop hugging him and look down at your lap. He looks at you not understanding why it upsets you so much but he wanted to make you happy in some way.

"Only half way ok?"

Looking up you smile again as he pulls his mask up onto the bridge of his nose.

"Happy?"

You nod quickly taking in the features of what you could see. Ghost closed his eyes for a second. He was tired and wanted to sleep. He felt pressure against his forehead and opened his eyes slightly to see you close resting your forehead against his.

You moved closer. Ghost wasn't sure what to do. Did he want to push you away? Or did he want you closer? Ghost thought for a moment then accepted it pulling you against him as he leaned backwards onto the wall. He hadn't been offered this kind of affection before and wanted to know what it felt like.

Ghost closed the space between you two. He was gentle as he kissed you. Rubbing your back softly before pulling away. Ghost liked you and all but didn't want to get carried away. You were tipsy at the time and knows it would be wrong if he kept going. Resting your head on his shoulder you fall asleep in his arms.

"I guess I'm stuck here for the night."

Ghost smiles pulling his mask back down and puts his head on yours as he to falls asleep.

#ghost cod #cod mwf2 #call of duty modern warfare #cod #call of duty #cod mwiii #cod mw3 #cod mw x reader #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty mwii #call of duty mw3 #call of duty mw2 #cod modern warfare 3 #ghost mw2 #cod modern warfare 2 #call of duty mw

[tainted-liquor]

'Cuddle Monster(s)☾‧₊˚ ⋅

E42!Miles Morales x Witch!BlackFem!Reader ┆˚✧Ingredients: Crack, kisses, and a lil bit of smiles! ┆∘⋆TWs: Cursing, Reader being a menace, n I think that’s it? ┆⁺˚⋆W/C: I’ll fix this later😭 ┆`✦A/N: I lowkey used this as spanglish practice

"Miles? Can you get me some basil and patchouli while you're out?" You called from your bathroom as you heard your front door swing open. "I'm only going to the bodega, but I'll see what I can find Mami!" he shouted back from downstairs before swiftly exiting out your house. You smiled to yourself, thinking about just how much you loved your boyfriend as you threw a slew of items and herbs into a small jar. For the past 5 months, you've been perfecting your new craft of spirit-raising, the art of manifesting a living vessel from the hole between your world and theirs. These spirits, or "monsters" as many people would call them are...usually grateful when you raise them, often repaying your kindness by offering protection and energy in exchange for being their path to this world and theirs.

Since these spirits can be seen as an extension of you due to bringing them into this world, they tend to be in tune with your emotions. When you cried, they cried, when you yelled, they yelled, and when you loved, so did they. When Miles first learned about your ability to pull spirits through that invisible portal, he didn't really care. He's murdered people before, so what's a little witchcraft? After all, he hadn't actually seen exactly what came through that portal just yet.

You casually dumped more herbs and tiny crystals into your jar, maintaining perfect focus on the task at hand as you slowly dumped almond oil into the jar. When everything was finished, you sealed the jar with purple wax before throwing it rather aggressively into your full bathtub. You closed your eyes, silently hoping that you didn't do shit wrong as you kneeled down next to the tub, dunking a hand into the numbing and cold water for a couple of minutes. When you didn't notice anything happening, you sighed to yourself and went to pull your hand out of the water. But no sooner than you moved, you felt something unfamiliar and cold grab your hand.

You felt a harsh tug, then watched as what appeared to be an all-grey horned creature emerged through the tub. It was around 8 feet in height and looked like something straight out of a horror fantasy movie. It had no face, only one massive pitch-black eye where what would be a nose. It stared at you unblinkingly, processing its surroundings before emerging from your bathtub and standing behind you. It looked more afraid of you than you were slightly of it, so you gave it a small wave and a pat on the...knee? to calm it down.

It sat down motionless and limp in the bathroom, radiating content as you heard the front door open. It wasn't even a fraction of a second before the creature came darting out of the room, you following quickly behind it as it advanced toward Miles. Miles didn't even get the chance to scream before it scooped him up, hugging him like the tiniest of babies as its eye closed in joy. "WHEW. OKAY. MAMI, QUÉ ES ESTO?" He shouted with wide eyes. "It's...my new protector! I just raised it...It's not gonna hurt you it just loves you" you quickly explained as Miles froze up in the monster's hands. "Shit...warn me next time" he huffed, slowly relaxing as he processes what was happening.

From that day forward, he learned to accept the sudden appearance of various creatures in his house. A bone dog, a very very long horse, several people that weren't quite people, and various spirits that took on many many forms. He wasn't gonna pretend like it never caught him off guard or scared him, occasionally stepping out of the shower to see a monster or two staring at him silently always managed to raise his heart rate by a couple beats per minute. He knew they loved him with the same affection you always gave him, so he was never truly terrified by them. He had been told it was rude to not speak to them, so he always gave them a rather quiet and shaky "Hola..." whenever he saw them.

"Mama, te amo tan mucho...pero, por favor dime cuando tus 'spirits' will be watching me shower."

"Sorry love!"

And it never quite stopped there. Whenever you were outside of the house and a few entities decided to loom and fawn over your boyfriend, he always knew how you felt in the moment. There were times when he would be sitting on the couch, eating a nice bowl of cereal and a sea of non-human crying could be heard. He immediately jumped up from whatever it was he was doing, running to his phone to check on you. Whether you were minor stressed or full-blown crying, he was able to tell how you truly felt at the drop of a hat. In some sense he was grateful because it allowed him to further understand and navigate...you!

"Mami are you mad at me?"

"...no"

"Tell me the truth, c'mon muñequita"

"What makes you think I'm mad?"

"You deadass?" he huffed as he pointed at the strange thing hovering above him, staring at him with crossed arms and an annoyed grimace.

"okay maybe..."

#across the spiderverse #atsv #into the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #miles morales #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles #e42 miles #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles x you #miles 42 #miles g morales #earth 42 miles morales #prowler miles

[cosmickvi]

No Knocking 🐿️🐻🐧 18+

Threesome, Makeouts, Little bit of Spit

-

Taehyun might’ve been the stoic yet cutesy person he was in front of the camera, but on nights where his ‘friends’ hands roamed his body, brushing over his prominent chest to tease his nipples, as he moaned softly; he was just a puddle in his own skin.

That day hadn’t been the most thrilling or memorable one. It was bland. Meetings, practice, lunch, more meetings, workouts etc. Some of Beomgyu’s behavior hinted at what was likely going to carry out the evening. Taehyun didn’t exactly expect for Kai to join in on their occasional “bonding time”.

Beomgyu intruded on Taehyun’s shower, wrapping his arms around his waist from behind to kiss his shoulder. Beads of water slipped on to his tongue that he used to drag up and down Taehyun’s neck. His skin was freshly rinsed from the build up sweat they all had at the end of the day and was warm against his lips. Taehyun dropped his almost empty shampoo bottle and mewled, letting his head fall to the side to give Beomgyu more room to work with. Eventually, they faced one another, fully making out in the water that was going cold.

“Shit- It’s like ice!” Beomgyu yelped, jumping out of the stream and cowering at the other end of the tub. Taehyun giggled and turned off the water before lowering himself to his knees and shuffle closer.

“I didn’t even have to ask.” Beomgyu teased, running his fingers through the wet snarls of Taehyun’s hair.

Taehyun ignored him and went straight to kissing his pubic bone, avoiding where Beomgyu was almost completely hard. He scratched lightly with his fingernails, over his butt and down the back of his thighs. The whimper above him made him do it again. He was about to open his mouth when-

“Taehyun! Get out already!” Yeonjun yelled outside the door. They both froze and made eye contact, breaking out into quiet laughter.

“C’mon, you’ll be shivering if you don’t get dried off.” Beomgyu said.

Yeonjun didn’t acknowledge the way that Beomgyu was the one to exit first, dragging a happily flustered Taehyun behind him.

“Of course…” The eldest sighed, watching them scamper off.

-

When they stumbled into the maknaes room and found Kai on his bed with his hand in his shorts, they collapsed onto each other in laughter, accidentally dropping their towels.

“Uhhh..hhehh..” Taehyun giggled. “We’re all hard? Funny. Make room for two, Kai.”

Kai stammered in shock and scooted up to his headboard. This wasn’t the first time something of this nature had happened, he just thought he had at least five more minutes to masturbate in peace. Beomgyu and Taehyun quickly joined him on his bed, their shoulder and hair still dripping wet.

“I say,” Beomgyu breathed with his finger pointed in emphasis. “tonight it’s Kai’s dick in your ass, your dick in my mouth, and at some point my dick in your mouth.”

“Fine by me.” Kai mumbled, reaching for his bottle of lube he kept on the floor by his bed.

“Yay!” Taehyun chirped, nearly making Kai smack his head into the wall by jumping into his lap. He loved bottoming.

“Hyung, take this.” Kai said to Beomgyu, holding the lube out to him. He readjusted himself so he was sitting on the side of his bed, Taehyun sitting in his lap on his parted thighs. It gave Beomgyu room to work.

Taehyun was easily opened up, played with until he was begging.

“I want it now. I don’t need anymore.” He whined. Kai chuckled, his chest vibrating against Taehyun’s back.

“Well, move your legs, baby.” He said. Kai grabbed underneath Taehyun’s knees and put his heels on his own knees. He helped him hover over his cock and gently settled him back down, filling him up quickly.

“Awh- Yes.” Taehyun whimpered, throwing his back on Kai’s shoulder.

“Let me hold you.” Kai whispered, keeping his arms hooked under Taehyun’s legs and spreading them further apart. Beomgyu cursed, casually jacking himself off as he watched.

“Here. You’ll thank me later.” Kai threw a pillow in Beomgyu’s face for him to kneel on.

“God this is the view of a lifetime.” Beomgyu mumbled, leaning down to kiss Taehyun, who kept whimpering from Kai’s subtle movements. Getting to see how Taehyun stretched around Kai drove him crazy.

“Such a good boy…You like praise, don’t you baby? Hmm, you deserve it our good boy.” Kai said into Taehyun’s ear, easing him half up his cock and back down again.

“Ah! Yes…I like it.” He whined, a little shocked at how strong Kai was.

Beomgyu stood in front of them and reached around to the back of Kai’s head. He grabbed him by the hair and tugged it harshly, smirking to himself when the maknae squealed.

“You’re somehow so good at topping, but I know under all this is just another subby bitch, hm?” He said smugly. Kai pursed his lips and blinked slowly, rutting up into Taehyun to make him whine.

“I’m not.” He denied, ignoring Beomgyu to keep fucking Taehyun.

“Bullshit.”

Beomgyu shoved Kai back and climbed onto his chest. Taehyun yelped and caught himself, leaning backwards against Beomgyu and moaning at the new angle. He held Kai’s face with one hand and spat into his mouth.

“Swallow it.” He said forcefully. “Looks like I just proved my point.”

Kai panted up at him, momentarily shutting his eyes and moaning from the way Taehyun ground on him. Beomgyu climbed off without another word, satisfied enough. He returned his attention to Taehyun, who was fucking himself on Kai’s dick like it was a dildo.

“C’mere, baby.” Beomgyu guided Taehyun until he was turned around, facing Kai. He had him lie down, legs tucked against Kai’s body.

“Now, fuck him for real.”

-

To be continued…

#txt gay #txt smut #tomorrow x together #kpop smut #bottom taehyun #top huening kai #top beomgyu #dom beomgyu #sub taehyun #taehyun smut #huening kai smut #beomgyu smut #taegyukai

[sheawritesstuff]

Midmorning Breakfast

[Guy x Transmasc Honey]

[Suggestive Fluff - 1360 words]

[Note: There's nothing explicit, it's mainly making out, but there are hints at other "activities" throughout - includes the use of "Daddy" in reference to Honey - if that's not your thing, this probably isn't the fic for you]

When Guy finally decided to get himself up and moving, Honey had already started their work for the day. To keep from waking him, they took their laptop into the living room where they could type to their heart’s content without worrying about the noise. They sat shirtless with a pair of comfy pajama pants, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket to keep them warm. They would have thrown on a hoodie, but at some point, Guy must have stolen them and hid them somewhere for his future use. 

They were about halfway through reading and replying to their work emails when a set of warm hands snuck down their front. Guy leaned over the back of the couch, slotting his head in the space between Honey’s neck and shoulder and shoving his exposed arms into the warmth of the blanket’s embrace. 

“Morning, Honey.” His morning voice was still deep and raspy against their ear. “Whatcha doin’?” 

“Work,” they said with a wry smile. “Always workin’.” Guy grumbled and turned to look at them, brows furrowed. 

“But it’s your day off.” He whined, tightening his arms around them. They shrugged and continued typing. He huffed and glanced down at their screen. “Emails are dumb anyway. You should come hang out with me instead.” He paused for a moment before snickering. “Ha, you should come.” 

Guy giggled at the objectively hilarious turn of phrase as Honey tried their best to ignore his antics. He pulled away for a moment, straight up stepped over the back of the couch, and knelt down on the cushion next to his beloved. His hands quickly found their way back to their previous location with a newfound purpose. 

“I mean, it is breakfast time.” He smirked as his hands dipped beneath the blanket and up their sides. “And a boy’s gotta eat.” Honey continued their typing, unaffected save for the occasional shiver as Guy’s thumbs traced over their top surgery scars and moved across their chest. 

“Guy,” they warned, glaring at his approaching face. “I’m busy right now.” He grinned and tucked his face against their neck, planting a soft kiss where it meets their jaw. His warm breath tickled against their skin as they struggled to stay focused. A few quick pecks followed a trail down toward their collar bones. 

“C’mon, Honey… work can wait can’t it?” His voice was low and sultry as his hands continued their exploration of his partner’s upper body. Honey huffed, embarrassment clear on their face as they stared at their laptop screen. “Your boy is hungry, and you look downright delectable,... Daddy.” Their brain shut off for a brief moment as they struggled between being productive and being reproductive. They slowly closed their laptop and set if to the side, where it would be safe for what came next. 

Honey clenched their jaw and turned to face the gremlin they called a partner. Before they had the opportunity to speak, Guy practically lunged forward and pressed their lips together. It was clumsy and overeager, but gods if it didn’t get the point across. He somehow managed to move himself over into Honey’s lap in the midst of this tonsil hockey chaos and planted himself firmly on top of them. When he pulled away for air, Honey tried to follow, almost forgetting they were upset with him just a moment ago. 

Honey moved their hands up from Guy’s hips, to his chest, and eventually up to his face. It was a slow, teasing, but fluid motion. They cupped his cheeks in their hands and pulled him in for one more sweet, intimate kiss. When they pulled away again, Honey held their lover’s face in their hands, slightly squishing it in their effort to keep him still. 

“Darling, sweetheart, love of my life,” they began. “If you do not chill the fuck out I’m going to throw you out the window.” The words were said in jest, but there was an underlying sense of frightening honesty. They squeezed his head ever so slightly tighter as they stared unblinkingly at him. “Don’t make me defenestrate you.” 

Guy’s rambunctiousness faded a bit as he shrunk down in Honey’s lap like a scolded puppy. Honey released him from their grasp and gently ran their fingers through his hair. He leaned into their gentle touch and gazed at them pathetically, non-verbally asking for forgiveness. They sighed and pushed the hair out of his face before cupping his cheeks again. 

“Fifteen minutes, baby. That’s all I ask.” Their voice was soft now, lacking the harsh edge it had earlier. “I need to get this done, ok?” Guy’s expression landed somewhere between disappointment and indignation, but he nodded and moved to get up. He stood and started back toward the bedroom, where he assumed his best chances at not being a distraction would be. Honey spun in their seat and grabbed his wrist, not roughly, but just enough to get his attention. 

“You can still sit with me, Guy. I’d love to have your company while I finish up.” He smiled and came back. He sat next to them and leaned his head against their shoulder. They lifted one side of their blanket and wrapped it around him, bringing him into their sphere of warmth. They kissed the top of his head as his arms wrapped around their waist. Honey reopened their laptop and got back to work. 

“Honey?” 

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.”

Guy did as he was told, only breaking his silence to ask the occasional question or make a comment about something they’d put in an email. One of his hands had dropped to their thigh where he traced intricate patterns on the fabric of their pants while his other did the same, but reversed, pattern on the couch cushions. You could tell when he messed up because he’d pause, lay his hand flat, wiggle it like he was erasing something from a chalkboard, and continue. He was keeping himself busy and giving them the time they needed in the least chaotic way he knew how. 

After Honey signed off and hit send on their last email of the day, they dramatically shut their laptop and tilted their head toward their ever so patient lover. He peered up at them, waiting to be given explicit acknowledgement. They put their hand on top of his on their thigh and smiled. 

“Now, where were we? Something about breakfast for my boy?” Guy gripped their thigh and giggled in a way the untrained ear may have called nervous, but Honey knew better. He kissed them again, slower this time. Just as before, he sat up, maneuvered himself into their lap, and moved his hands up to their chest. They slipped their hands up the back of his thin little tanktop, savoring the warmth of his skin against theirs. 

They pulled away, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. “What do you say to Daddy giving you a little breakfast in bed, hmm?” Guy shivered and bit his lower lip. He pulled his hands up to the sides of their face and kissed them deep and slow. 

“Yes please,” he whimpered. He sat still for a second before another thought entered his mind. “Can we get actual breakfast afterwards? I’m actually kinda hungry not gonna lie.” Honey sighed and pressed their forehead against Guy’s. Despite their best efforts, they let out a little laugh at their lover’s ridiculousness. 

“Of course we can,” they laughed, tilting their head to look him in the eye again. “Whatever you want, sweet boy.” He smiled and kissed their cheek sweetly. He wrapped his arms around the back of their neck, pushing the blanket off onto the couch. 

Leaning close to their ear he whispered, “Come on and take me then.” A quick kiss was pressed against their jaw as they hefted themself up off the couch. Guy wrapped his legs around their waist and held tight as Honey readjusted their grip on his thighs. They made their way across the apartment to the bedroom and laid him down on his back, pinning him down to the bed. 

“Bon appétit, loverboy.” 

#asexual tries writing spice #redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted guy #redacted asmr guy #redacted audio guy #redacted honey #redacted audio honey #redacted asmr honey #redacted fanfic #shea writes

[guinea-pig16]

Something Better || Chapter 2: Familiar Grounds

Ghost x Reader x Soap

Fic is below the cut, please read Chapter 1 first if you haven't!! Please enjoy !!!

______________________________________________________________

Word Count: 4,500+

Warnings: guns and gunfire

______________________________________________________________

You stared at yourself in the mirror. Goddamn. You couldn’t remember the last time you looked at yourself. You looked like hell.

You had dark bags under your eyes from sleepless nights, your skin had a sickly tone due to lack of time outside and inconsistent meals, your once muscular arms had gone soft due to inactivity, and your eyes that once sparkled with life were dim and lackluster. You ran a hand through your hair, letting out a long sigh. You had a lot of work to do.

You called Laswell the next day, accepting the position. You could hear the smile on her face as she explained the next steps. As soon as you had completed your recovery, you would be under her jurisdiction for the next few months as she showed you the ropes. Then, you would be assigned a task force. Now, all you had to do was recover. Easy enough.

It was in fact, not easy. You thought bootcamp as tough, but this was just downright torture. Everyday, your nurses would push and bend your leg in a new, painful way. But you would show up everyday bright and early, eager for more. And every night you would collapse into bed, exhausted, your mind too tired to plague you with nightmares.

You got yourself to begin eating more, making sure to leave your plate practically spotless. Your nurse openly cried in front of you when she saw your clean plate.

Slowly but surely, your stamina was returning as well as your muscle definition. You were able to walk further everyday without assistance from a cane or a nurse, though you still had a noticeable limp. But eventually, you would have to resort to using your cane, though you wouldn’t admit it.

Two months pass, and your doctors declare that you’ve completed your recovery. The nurses who have been with you since day one decided to throw you a small party to celebrate, bringing in plates of snacks and drinks. You were happy to see them look at you without pity and sympathy, just joy and pride. The party was full of laughter and smiles, and occasionally a few tears. Especially from your personal nurse, who practically saw you as her child. Then, the day came for you to be discharged from the hospital.

“Now, just remember sweetie… I’ll always… I’ll always be here for you.” Her eyes well with tears once again and she chokes down a sob. You smile gently and nod. She breaks down and wraps you into a bone-crushing hug, being mindful of your lower back and leg. You awkwardly pat her back. She fans her eyes and takes a deep breath, before returning to helping you pack your few things. You walk out of your room, a content smile gracing your face. A different nurse walks with you to outpatient, as yours is currently being consoled by the others. You give her a grin and a wave goodbye, causing her to break down once again.

The nurse walks you to outpatient and you see Laswell waiting outside, leaning against her car. The nurse gives you a small hug and wishes you well. You thank her and return the thought, before turning and leaving the hospital for the first time in months. You take one step outside, and breathe in the fresh air. You take another step and-

“AH!” You cry out, a sharp, searing pain rips through your right leg. You would have collapsed to the ground if Laswell hadn’t caught you. And then you realized something. You forgot your fucking cane.

“You alright there, L/N?” Laswell asks, helping you stand up straight. You hiss through your teeth as your thigh begins to spasm painfully.

“...Yeah… Forgot my damn cane…” You mumble, slightly embarrassed. Right after those words leave your mouth, your nurse comes running out the doors, clutching your cane.

“I can’t believe you! Trying to leave without your cane! You should know better!” She chastises. You just have to stand there, clutching your returned cane, as your nurse chews you a new one. Laswell stands behind you, a small amused grin on her face. Eventually she calms down, and gives you another hug and kiss on the cheek. 

“Be careful dear. I better not see you here again unless it’s to visit, alright?” You roll your eyes slightly and smile.

“Yes ma’am. Take care now.” You wave goodbye as Laswell opens the passenger side door for you. You see her hand move to take your cane for you, but stops herself. She rounds the car and gets in on the driver’s side as you tuck your cane next to your seat and pull yourself in. You throw your small bag of belongings in the back seat and buckle. Laswell takes off the emergency break.

“You ready to begin, L/N?” She says, turning her head towards you. Eyes full of determination, you nod. She smiles. “Alright. Let’s get started.”

_______________________________________

 From that moment on, you spent nearly every single day by Laswell’s side. She assigned you classes to take, mission logs to read, training simulators, she even brought you to mission debriefs. She watched your progress closely, praising you when you completed an assignment, and correcting you where you messed up. After four months of training, she finally decided you were ready for your first official assignment.

“You’ll be assigned to one of our low stakes task forces to start off with. If you do well, you’ll be moved to higher stake task forces. Got it?” You gave Laswell a curt nod, taking in each and every word she said. You two were on your way to meet with the general to get your first mission before you met with the task force. Your cane hung around your arm. You didn’t want the general or the task force seeing you walking with it, even if you did have a noticeable limp.

The two of you reach the general’s office door. “Now, General Evans is just going to state the mission, it will be up to you to figure out how to accomplish it.” Laswell said, looking at you. You nodded in response. She gave you a nod back and knocked on the door.

“Enter.” Said the voice from inside. Laswell opened the door and the two of you stepped inside. General Evans was standing in front of his window, looking outside. He turned once the door closed and gave you both a smile. You straightened and saluted him, slightly hiding your cane behind your back.

“At ease, you must be Officer L/N, the retired vet, right?” General Evans stuck his hand out. You took it and he gave you a firm handshake.

“Yes, sir.” You replied. He smiled at you and gestured for the two of you to sit at the chairs in front of his desk. He took his place behind his desk and laced his fingers together.

“Alright, so, we’ve got some important intel at one of our bases in the Bahamas, but a local terrorist group has invaded it and claimed it as their own. So we’re sending task force 125 in to infiltrate and reclaim the base. It should be easy enough, the group isn’t large and won’t have the same gun power we have.” He explained. You listened intently, mind swimming with strategies and plans. You could see Laswell watching you out of the corner of your eye.

“Got all that, officer?” You nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, I expect this to be resolved by 0800 Friday. Dismissed.” You nod and stand, saluting the general once more before you and Laswell leave. Once outside the office, your leg trembles and you finally resort to using your cane for support. Laswell glances at you, but doesn’t say a word.

“Right, let’s go meet the task force.”She says. You nod and both take off down the hall, albeit slower than you would have liked due to your limp. The two of you head to the training room of the base. As you approach the door, you lean your cane against the wall and walk in without it. Laswell hesitates a moment, looking at your cane. But you’re already through the door.

There’s only one group in the training room today, that being task force 125. As you enter, you see the captain stop and look at you. He motions for his men to stop as well. You see that the team is decently sized, about 10 people including the captain. Laswell steps in behind you and stands at your side, arms behind her back.

“Well, you must be our new strategist, right?” The captain approaches you, almost sizing you up. He notes your posture, how you lean all your weight on your left leg. You think you hear him let out a huff. You straighten your back, much to its discomfort, and stick out your hand.

“Officer Y/N L/N. You must be Captain Fischer, or am I mistaken?” You say, eyes boring into his own. He hesitates slightly, before gripping your hand tightly and shaking it.

“...That I am. And behind me are my men. Get over here, boys!” Fischer turns his head and yells. His troop kind of awkwardly walks forward, and a handful salute you and Laswell. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Laswell’s eyes slightly narrow. 

“Alright, here we have Privates Bradley, George, Stephenson, White, Foster, and Woods. Then it's Corporals Park, Garner, and Pittman. You got that, officer?” Captain Fischer says, a slight snark in his tone. You nod.

You know exactly what this team is like by just looking at them. During your years of service, you’ve encountered people like them before. They’re young, reckless, and think themselves unkillable. They’re egos are high because they’ve been placed in a task force. Little do they know, their task force is just the clean up crew. Compared to you, they’re just a bunch of rookies. But you know that you have to start somewhere in order to move up.

“Pleasure to meet you all. Now, let’s get started shall we?” You say, hands behind your back. You explain the mission to the team, word for word, exactly how General Evans gave it to you. You notice that they halfway listen, a couple of the privates eyeing you up and down. 

“This mission should be easy in and out. I’ll have the plans ready by,” You glance down at your watch. “0200 this afternoon. By then, I expect you to be ready for debrief and packed for the plane that leaves by 0700. Copy?” You saw the Captain’s eyes roll slightly. But you didn’t let it bother you. You saw Laswell slightly smile next to you.

“Copy that. We’ll be waiting.” He says. You nod, and dismiss the team. They shamble away, glancing at each other, chuckling. You let out a breath you were holding and grit your teeth. Your leg had been throbbing the entire time, but you didn’t let it show. Laswell nudged your side. You looked over. She was holding out your cane to you.

You stood there for a second, then took it, gratefully leaning on it for support. “Thanks.” You say. When had she grabbed it for you?

“No worries. Now, let’s get you the intel you need for the mission.” And with that, you two took off back down the hall.

You spent the morning planning how the mission would go, considering every countermove, attack, even what the weather would be like. You double, triple, quadruple checked the intel you received, making sure it was 100% accurate. You wanted to prove yourself to Laswell and make sure this mission went smooth as butter.

Exactly at 0200, you met back with the task force. Though, you had to wait about 10 minutes longer for the entire team to show up. You went over the plans with them, detailing where they would infiltrate, where the intel was located, and where the enemies would be located. They half listened, occasionally yawning loudly. You ignored them. At least it wasn’t your ass going on the mission.

Later that day, Laswell walked with you to the black top to put you on the plane. Task force 125 was surprisingly on time and packing their things into the plane. You saw the captain look you up and down, taking in your cane, and whisper something to one of the corporals, smirking. You once again, ignored it. You and Laswell stopped in front of the plane.

She turned to you. “Alright, L/N. This is your first mission. Don’t mess it up now, understand?” You nodded. She patted you gently on the shoulder. Her eyes softened. “You’ve done good so far, now’s your chance to prove yourself, got it?” You gave her a smile, and nodded again. She glanced at the task force and back to you, then leaned down next to your ear. “Try not to let them bother you that much, they’re just a bunch of idiot rookies.” She whispered. You chuckled slightly.

“You got it, Laswell.” You said, a smile on your face. She returned the smile and patted your shoulder again.

“See you in a couple days, officer.” She said. You saluted her and she walked back into the base.

You took in a deep breath, and walked onto the plane, clutching your bag, cane clacking against the ground. You could see the soldiers eyeing you from the corner of your eye. You tried not to let the embarrassment build up in your gut.

The engines rumbled to life as you and the task force settled down. And the plane took off into the sunset. You hoped to God this mission would go as planned.

_____________________________

“Fischer, what’s your status?” You said into the microphone, watching the body cam feed intently. You had landed in the Bahamas just a few hours ago, but there was no time for rest and relaxation, much to the team’s dismay. It was just past midnight, and you had shoved their asses right out into the field. You knew night missions tended to go smoother, as the enemy wouldn’t be expecting it. At least, from your experience they didn’t.

“Tired as hell, but moving forward.” He responded, a snarky tone to his voice. 

“Copy that, keep proceeding, you’re about 1 click away from the base. Keep low to the ground, there’s a chance for night guards.” You said into the mic. Fischer grunted in response. You shuffled around the various screens, looking over your people’s shoulders. When you arrived, you were given a small team to help you monitor the task force’s radios and cameras. You listened to the idle chatter over the radios between the team’s members.

“Officer L/N, we’ve got visuals on the base.” Said a member of your group. You went over to him and looked at the camera. Private Stephenson had been the first to approach the base.

“Private, we’ve got a visual on the base, keep low and keep an eye out for guards.” You said to him. You heard him sigh.

“I’ve got it.” He replied, before inching closer to the building. You furrowed your brows. What the hell is he doing?

“Private, stand by, wait for the others to arrive.”

“I said I’ve got it. This shit’s easy as hell, I’ll be in and out, 2 minutes top.” Stephenson said.

You frowned and were about to start to order him to wait again, when you saw a glint of metal from his camera.

“Stephenson, get to the ground. Now.” You said, eyes fixed on the sniper rifle that was steadily aiming for his head.

“What, why?”

The rifle stopped, and you knew what was about to happen.

“Get on the fucking ground, NOW!” You yelled. Stephenson hesitated slightly, but dropped to the ground right as bullets whizzed past his head. You gritted your teeth. The fucking idiot just alerted the base to their presence. 

“Goddammit Stephenson, you just let the whole base know you’re here.” You grumbled on the radio. He said something back, but you had already switched back to Fischer’s channel.

“Keep to the trees, Stephenson was kind enough to let the group know you were coming. Expect more targets to leave the base. They’ll be looking for you.” You said, pinching the bridge of your nose. Bunch of idiots… Your team was never like this… You stopped that train of thought before it could continue.

“Roger that.” Replied Fischer. You watched as the team slowly approached the edge of the treeline, a couple retrieving Stephenson from the edge. You and the team watched carefully as members from the terrorist group exited the building, just like you said, looking around. You scoffed slightly at their weapons. General Evans was right, they wouldn’t stand a chance against what you had. But they had the advantage now of expecting the team, and you could tell they weren’t going to be scared off easily.

“Let’s just go in, guns blazing.” Said Corporal Garner.

“Negative, they’re expecting you now, you’ve lost the element of surprise. They’re weapons may not be the best, but they have the advantage right now. Remember, they outnumber you, it’s 10 against 20. Best course of action is to lure a handful into the woods and take them out.” You said, watching the targets scan the treeline.

Fischer scoffs. “Please, we’re better trained than them, we can take them.” You see him get ready to charge, along with the others. You grit your teeth, and your team looks at you with apprehensive eyes.

“Do. Not. Engage. You’re going to get your shit rocked. Lure a handful of them into the woods and take them out with your knives.” You say, attempting to keep your cool.

Fischer straight ignores you. You hold your head in your hands as you watch them charge out into the open. Gunshots echo through the radios and you watch the screens, your face set into a deep scowl. Just as you said, the team is quickly overwhelmed and are forced to take cover behind a couple fallen trees.

“Captain, we’re taking on too much fire! What do we do?” Yells Corporal Park. You stand there, waiting for Captain Fischer to respond. He doesn’t, and in the silence you can tell he’s panicked as hell.

“Captain. I’m going to say this slowly so it gets through your thick fucking skull. Throw one of your smoke bombs at the targets. Once the smoke has filled the area, you, Park, Garner, and Pittman charge and take down as many targets as you can with your knives. Do not use your guns, they’ll be able to see the flash and hear the sound, alerting them to your location. Before the smoke clears, enter the building and have the rest of the team shoot down the rest of the targets. Retreive the intel and get your fucking asses back to base. Copy?” You say, voice low. You couldn’t help but let some of the venom enter your voice as you spoke. Your team was looking at you apprehensively. 

Fischer was silent for a moment. “Roger that.” 

“Good. Now begin.” You replied. You watched as he executed your plan. He threw the smoke bomb, and as soon as smoke filled the area, he, Park, Garner, and Pittman jumped over the fallen tree and sliced down at least half of the targets. They slipped through the open door and Fischer motioned for the others to begin shooting. Gunshots rang out through the night air as they stepped through the base. 

“Keep your guns up, the base could still have targets inside.” You say through the radios. Fischer, Pittman, Garner, and Park reply with a curt ‘Copy’. Right after they replied, a terrorist jumped into the hall with a gun, but was quickly shot. They inch down the hall, towards the intel room. Finally, they entered and quickly found the intel you were looking for.

“Good. Now get your asses back here.” You say. You get a quick ‘Roger that’, and watch as they exit the building. The rest of the team have already taken care of the targets, their bodies splayed out on the ground. You huff and take off your headset. You gently set it onto the table, an attempt to appear you’ve kept your cool. But you and your team both know that it’s just a ruse. You were fucking pissed.

Your boots clamped on the ground, your cane clacking angrily on the concrete floor as you tore down the hallway, people quickly getting out of your way as you rushed past them. Your right leg was screaming at you for the harsh speed, but you didn’t care. You had a score to settle. 

You arrived outside right as the task force returned. They looked nervous and as soon as they saw your figure striding towards them, scared. Captain Fischer stepped forward, mouth open to speak. The only sound he let out was a small cry as you hooked your cane around his knee and tugged, causing him to fall. You grabbed his collar before he hit the ground, getting him down to your level. You brought your face close to his.

“Listen here you ignorant, egotistical prick. I don’t give two fucking shits if you like me or not, but you do not ignore a direct order, do you understand me?” You savored the fear in his eyes. He swallowed and gave you a single nod. You loosened the grip on his collar and let him fall to his knees. You glared at the team around you, they shrunk under your gaze.

“You all could have died tonight because you decided you were more intelligent and experienced than me. You’re fucking lucky I didn’t leave you all out to dry out there. I know you think you’re better than me because you’re faster, stronger. But let me tell you something.” You leaned forward, your voice low. “You disobey an order again, and I’ll fuck you up so bad they won’t know which side is your ass and which is your head. Am I clear?” The team hesitated a moment and let out mumbles of ‘yes’s and ‘okay’s. You scowled once again.

“When I say, ‘Am I clear?’ I expect a fucking ‘Yes, Officer.’ Now, once again, AM I CLEAR SOLDIERS!?” You yelled, posture straight, feet apart, arms behind your back. The team stands stiff as boards, and salute.

“YES, OFFICER!” They yelled in unison. You sigh, looking at all of them. You hold out a hand to the Captain, who’s still kneeling. He hesitantly takes it and you pull him to his feet.

“Good, now get the hell out of my face. We’re leaving by 0900 so get some rest.” They scurry away, the Captain hesitating slightly, looking at you, before he ran off. Once they’re gone, you let out a gasp and clutch your right leg. It was killing you the entire time, but the anger had thankfully sheltered you from the pain. For a bit at least. You hobbled back inside and made your way to your assigned quarters. 

You closed your door and leaned against it, savoring the darkness of your room. You had a headache coming on, and you were thinking about the mission. You pulled out your phone and texted Laswell.

You put your phone back into your pocket, not expecting a response. You shambled over to your bed and collapsed in it, exhausted. You weren’t going to worry about changing. Your eyes began to drift close, when you felt a buzz. You quickly pulled out your phone again.

You smiled at your phone. Setting it on your nightstand, you rolled over and pulled your blankets up to your chin. Letting out a sigh, you drifted off to sleep.

________________________________

After that mission, task force 125 treated you with respect. They executed every order you gave them as effortlessly as possible, and listened intently to your debriefs. You worked with them for about 2 months, before Laswell transfers you to another task force. You’re surprised when the team wishes you well, Captain Fischer giving you a hearty handshake as a goodbye. 

For the next 6 months, you bounce between task forces, each one providing a new and more intense challenge from the last. You plan, strategise, and give orders effortlessly. You’ve had no casualties in any of the teams you’ve worked with. You began to develop a sort of reputation as this incredible strategist, the one who got things done without losing men. Eventually, you developed a codename, Harbinger. 

Even with your reputation, you still couldn’t escape the judgemental gazes of the teams you worked with. Their eyes would immediately be drawn to your cane, to your limp. You could tell they wanted to ask, but no one ever did. You never gave them the chance.

One day, as you wrapped up a mission with your latest task force, 326, Laswell entered the intel room where you were monitoring the team's return. 

“Oh, Laswell, nice to see you. What are you doing here?” You ask, turning away from the screens. She came to your side, and you saw her clutching a folder. She smiled at you and handed over the folder. You gave her a curious look, and opened the folder. Inside were four documents. You skimmed through them. They were files of the soldiers, John Price, Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick, John ‘Soap’ Mactavish, and Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley. Your eyes widened slightly. These were the members of task force 141. You looked back at Laswell, who was smiling.

“You’re being transferred to task force 141 with me, L/N. This is your last mission with 326. Tomorrow we’re flying over to Greece where they’re stationed to meet them.” She said. Your jaw dropped. You’re going to be task force 141’s strategist, along with Laswell. The task force 141. You’ve heard the rumors about them, about their strength, resilience, and teamwork. They all moved together as one, and were considered unstoppable. You’d heard what they did with the Hassan mission. You studied their debriefs intently. And you were about to meet them. 

“Are… Are you serious? Do you think I’m ready?” You ask. As excited as you are to work with such a strong team, you can’t help but feel a bit apprehensive. Are you skilled enough to be trusted with the lives of these soldiers?

“I’m certain of it. This is what I’ve been training you to do, remember? Since day one I’ve been wanting you on the team, but the higher ups wanted to be certain you were ready. You’ve proven to be more than skilled enough to work with task force 141.” Laswell says, smiling at you. You look back at the folder in your hands, thinking.

You look back at Laswell, determination present in your eyes. “What time do we leave?” 

She smiles.

“That’s more like it.”

You hand her back the folder, and the two of you leave the room. You can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings to the table.

______________________________________________________________

Hiiii !!! I wanted to thank yall for your support of this series !!! Ive never had so much fun writing something before !!! Next chapter we'll see our task force 141 boys!!! Have a wonderful day !!! Ciao !!! &lt;3

XOXOXOXOX &lt;3

tagged people:

@sucka2me @deltottoro 

#x reader #gim fic #call of duty #cod x gn!reader #gn!reader #cod x reader #cod x you #cod x y/n #cod modern warfare #cod mwf2 #cod mw2 fic #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost x soap #simon ghost riley #ghost x soap x reader #soap mactavish #soap mw2 #ghost mw2 #john soap mctavish x reader #soap x reader #johnny mactavish #john mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #this is a lot of tags #but i wanna reach people so #shrugs #disabled reader #soldier reader #medical inaccuracies

[wordtotherose]

She's dozing, gazing up at the occasional star peeking through the dark night-time clouds above, when Astarion steps over her and stays there, just looking down at her. The moonlight is near vanished tonight but the firelight catches in his hair and warms his pale skin.

He doesn't say anything as he stands over her. She doesn't either. Stays relaxed and drowsy, silently putting together the picture before her. The tension in his shoulders. How his fingers clench then relax before closing into fists again by his sides. His beautiful eyes, normally so languidly observant of all of his surroundings, are narrowly intent on her, verging on frantic as he stutters his way through a breath he doesn't need. His clothes are rumpled, suggesting he's come straight from an unsettled dream because try as he might not to sleep, something about vampirism and elvish trances mixes poorly with his long list of shitty memories from time to time. Usually in these moments his scars are especially tender, whatever magic is inlaid in the infernal contract stabs and aches adding to the restless discomfort he has little choice but to grit his teeth and push through.

She hates it. She loves that he comes to her.

When a full-body shiver courses through him she finally moves. Slow, obviously broadcasted movements as she pushes herself up to be propped against the log she'd set her bedroll tucked against, and opens her arms. An invitation. An offering. She watches closesly for his reaction, waits to see if he needs a verbalisation to really believe she won't mind should he not want her touch, her comfort. But not tonight.

Tonight he falls to his knees with a harsh thump that has her wincing. He takes one of her wrists in both his hands, tender and careful as he pushes in with his thumb between the delicate bones. The exhale that shakes out of him upon finding her pulse strong and steady, if a little faster than normal from her anxiety for him, has her bending her fingers awkwardly to grasp one of his wrists in turn, squeezing once.

"I died?" She asks tentatively but not weakly, she's ready to be snapped at or jerked away from, and all the more relieved to be brought closer, his head bowing to press cold lips to her heartbeat then up to the crook of her elbow where he'd fed mid-battle earlier that day as a quick relief.

"Something like that," he whispers into her skin. "Why are you awake?"

Continue Reading On AO3 or under the cut...

He peeks up at her through his lashes, fingertips tracing her veins mindlessly as he waits for her to answer. She doesn't really have a good reason to be throwing away precious resting time she just sort of... has been. So she tells him as much and recieves an exasperated roll of the eyes for her trouble.

She wriggles her fingers to get a hand free, a flush of warmth in her chest when Astarion pouts. He melts seconds later as she brushes a curl behind his ear then traces up to the tip, overwhelmed by how such a simple touch and such a base reaction of relaxation from the elf before her has her thrilled, biting her bottom lip to stop from grinning like an idiot. To think she would one day have a vampire settling down in her lap to cuddle, her younger self could never have envisioned such a thing. Could never have imagined feeling so safe with another single person. The lack of pressure, the absence of anxious fear about what she should do next or what he wants from her or what is expected but so far from instinctual for her.

"You're thinking too loudly," Astarion complains into her shoulder, then continues speaking into her neck as he presses his lips against the artery quietly keeping time there, less of a string of kisses and more just seeking sensation and touch, she loves it, loves that this is something he's learned from her, a soft pleasurable intimacy without escalation or ulterior motivation. "I didn't come to suffer the cold just to be ignored, you know."

She chuckles and sweeps a hand down his back, finding where it hurts the most along the circle of his scars just by how much he arches back into her small offering of warmth.

She loves him, she loves him, she loves him.

"My deepest apologies," she drapes her other arm over his knees that are pulled up loosely to bridge over her legs. "Do you want to talk about it?"

It feels, sometimes, like she asks him daily if he wants to talk about his troubled thoughts, and the answer is normally no. Unless he starts the conversation, it rarely ever becomes a heart to heart. She's learning when to push and when to let him have his space. Just as he is learning much the same about her. So it's with a great deal of surprise, which she hurriedly suppresses, that she feels Astarion nod.

He leans back out of the safety of her body and she tries to catch his eye. "You don't have to, it's your choice."

The quirk of his lips is tired but true. "I know."

"Do you?" She presses, worried now that maybe it wasn't just a normal night terror, that maybe this is about something more. "I won't make you, Astarion, never. I'll push, if I think it's for the best for you, but I will never make you."

The way his face falls as he lets the mask drop will always be heartbreaking to her, the defeated slump of his shoulders and his honest struggle to meet her gaze... This is the side of him that has her bristling when someone looks at him and sees only 'pretty' or 'vain' or Gods forbid some fucker knows he's a spawn and dares call him a monster in her earshot. His laugh is so forced that she smooths a hand down his leg to try and soothe them both.

"Anyone else and I'd be furious that you think you could possibly know what is best for me better than I do," he drops his forehead against hers, eyelids fluttering shut, "but you are you. And I honestly haven't a clue what to do with that or what I've done to deserve you. To deserve this."

"Astarion-"

"You didn't die this time."

This time bounces round her skull on repeat as he takes the time she gives freely for him to put together his words.

"We were camping outside the city, in the...dream. I left you by the fire, we'd just- I knew we'd just...Hells, why is this so hard?" He pushes his head into hers and she pushes back like it's a challenge without thinking, he takes it as a nudge to continue. "Sex. We had had sex and it had been good and I was loathe to leave your side but I was hungry and you were tired so I didn't ask you."

"You should have, I would have offered if it were real," Elizia interrupts, "shit, sorry. Keep going. I'll be quiet."

Astarion's huff of a laugh is much more genuine this time and he pecks her on the cheek once, twice. "As I was saying, I left for however long and when I came back I...well. Let's just say I..."

"Cazador?"

"Cazador." He spits the name with venom and puts a bit of distance between them, recapturing her hand on his legs inbetween his own to ground himself in the bending of her knuckles and the lines of bone under warm, living freckled skin. "Long story short, he'd already drained you and turned you by the time I got there. You were so sickly grey and pale, limp in his hold as he arranged you how he wanted. Like you were only a corpse. I wished you were only dead. I screamed and begged in all the ways I- I knew he'd find prettiest but his commands...I could do nothing but watch as you screamed through the transformation and he- he took great pleasure in making me watch as he pretended to comfort you. As if he wasn't the one to have caused your agony. I woke up when he..."

His voice fails him.

"Astarion," she wipes away the tears that have started to fall down his cheek, "my sweet love, stop. You don't need to relive it. You don't have to think about it. I'm here, I'm safe."

He doesn't listen. "He slit his wrist and forced you to drink. He- He wanted me to know that even in undeath we could never be equals, you would always be stronger, more powerful."

"Enough," she says, tone hardened and grip on him tighter to try and draw him out of his own mind. "Stop it."

When he looks like he's about to continue ignoring her she rushes on to beat him to it.

"Look at me, Astarion. Really look at me. Astarion."

"I'm looking," he snaps, disgruntled but not pulling away, not leaving.

"Tell me what you see."

"Is that a trick question? I'm not particularly in the mood for games right now."

"No, I mean yes but no. What do you see? Like, for instance, I look at you and I see eyes that I've caught watching me all day. I see a mouth that says the most batshit inappropriate stuff when you're raring for a fight when I'm trying to negotiate. I see a vampire who asks every time for permission to bite, to feed on me, even though I've given you blanket permission to feed every night since the first, which makes you kinder in my eyes than if you had never killed a person in your long life."

"I see freckles." He stops himself like he hadn't really meant to speak at all, she nods encouragingly. "I- I see your eyes, I know their weight in battle and the moments we share like this, near enough alone that you don't keep one eye on a door or one of our companions or an enemy."

"What else?" She asks with a smile.

He looks her over, as if searching for what else he deems worthy of attention. "Your ears, my love, are fascinating to me as always. The way your jewelry catches the light is beautiful. I see them and I wonder how young you were when you got them pierced, did it hurt? Who did it for you or did you do them yourself? I think of all the places I have only ever seen in the nighttime that sell the prettiest earrings in the city, the kind I want to give you to decorate yourself with."

She laughs, finding the plain metal loops that hang from her ears with one hand, almost shyly hiding them from his gaze and pretty compliments. This isn't quite what she'd been going for. She'd wanted to ground him, remind him that she is here and alive and safe with him. Retrospectively, she thinks she should have known better with him.

"They're no different to yours, more human I suppose but hardly anything special," she argues, amused by Astarion's scoff.

"Hardly." A cricket chirps nearby as he reaches out hesitantly to touch her, she crosses the distance he's left to nuzzle into his palm, pressing a kiss to the heel of his hand.

"I love you, Astarion," she tells him with the certainty that this, this right here, him and his touch and his trust and his presence, this is what she holds most precious in all the world. "I love you so much."

She doesn't expect him to say it back. He didn't the first time she told him and that's okay, she worried that first time that she would be overcome with resentment or anxiety but no. There had been no nerves, no fear that he would leave her for speaking those words to him with full meaning and none of the seductive game he'd once said them with. It had been careless then, a phrase tossed out to tease and attract. Those words, she guesses, are tainted for him in a myriad of way. To say them does not mean the same for him as it does for her. And that is okay.

He doesn't say it back this time either. But he doesn't shy away as he had before, doesn't give in to the instinct to hide or bluster them away.

Her heart skips a beat as he presses a kiss to her forehead, once, twice, three times. "My sweet Elizia," he murmurs into her skin with a kiss to her cheek, "my treasure," a kiss at the corner of her lips that she tries to chase but he evades her, holding her still so he can continue, kissing just under her jaw, "my gift, my love."

She tamps down the urge to squirm under his attention, fights to not push him down onto her bedroll so she can return his affections tenfold.

"My darling, dearest wonder," he whispers into her ear before taking his time kissing and tugging ever so lightly on every earring she has. "You are more alive than anyone I have ever met. My own sun to bask in. The shining star to follow."

"Now you're just reciting poetry," she nudges him back enough to watch his face for any tells as she asks, "Did you get any rest at all?"

His seductive smile tilts with uncertainty but she's not sure of the source of it, hasn't had opportunity to see him in such vulnerable moments enough to name this. Soon, she hopes, but for now she has to hedge her bets.

"Stay with me while I sleep tonight," she asks, treading a line she knows shifts like the very sands of the coasts. "I have a book in my pack if you don't want to trance again, but I'd appreciate the company, if you don't mind."

He bites at his cheek before nodding. "As you wish, pet. Who am I to refuse such a sweet request?"

Normally she would poke back, remind him stubbornly that he can refuse, that he can always say no or pull back or step away. But right now, she thinks, they're playing a game that they'd largely left behind sometime around Moonrise Tower. Old habits die hard, especially in the chill of haunted nights. So she lets him toy with excuses and she speaks the lines of the script they're trying to jumble together to get what they both want. To comfort and to be comforted.

"Thank you," she says, and the gratitude in his eyes is something she can read clearly.

#my writing #fanfic #astarion #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion x oc

[wishing-stones]

Hewwo! As a bit of a newb to the AU Sanses, I have been super curious about the whole “Error can’t / won’t touch people” thing and have read a bit about it but I’m still not totally sure I understand, so I’d love to hear your opinion on his whole thing he’s got going on.

Is it more like a negative physiological reaction between software vs magic since magic is made (depending on who you talk to) of energy/crystallized light and software operates by way of electrical signals so energy vs electricity = bad time???

Or is it more like … no matter What he touches, it hurts because he’s so unstable? But different things hurt & destabilize him more than other things???

Or is it more of a psychological aversion????

I LOVE the idea of Error being able to tolerate & possibly come around to touch a human S.O. But … depending on WHY he can’t touch things … that might be more or less difficult to do. If it’s Option 1 then it makes more sense that he was surrounded by monsters (& beings made of OUCH Energy) so he Developed a psychological aversion to touch (like, bro, that sucks, right?) but because humans are Not made of Ouch Energy then it might take some time to get over the psychological barrier but it would be nice if it didn’t actually hurt, you know?

But if the cause for his Touch Aversion is something else, that might be harder. You know? So what’s your Take / Understanding of the Error No Touchie situation?

Looooottsss of this is my own headcanon:

Error is canonically Haphephobic, and doesn't like being touched. He usually glitches out hard or straight-up crashes if someone touches him. It doesn't... hurt so much as is incredibly uncomfortable and makes his bones itch uncomfortably.

This, in my opinion, is because most of the contact he has is with other skeleton monsters, so a lot of that touch comes with the sensation of bone-on-bone, which to him is like fingernails on a chalkboard. Even the slightest brush makes him grit his teeth and freeze up for a moment. He doesn't have this issue so much with softer things, and doesn't generally freak when Nightmare grabs him and throws him. The tentacles aren't made of bones...

On the other hand, if he gets tackled out of the blue by Ink, for example, he's going to flip his shit. (Especially because neither of them wear clothing with very much padding, so it made an audible clack that almost sent him straight into a crash.)

Humans are soft, no matter where you touch them. The only hard bits that don't come with padding are teeth, which... if he's gotten to the point where he's comfortable with kissing a human s/o, he's probably okay with the occasional brush of teeth, but... lips help with that. (By the same stroke, he's not keen on being bitten in spicier scenarios because of the aforementioned bone-on-bone contact.)

He's touch-avoidant with everyone, but once he figures out a human doesn't hurt to touch, he'd start exploring that one further, and probably without any romantic intent first.

His magic is wonky, but he is still made of it. His code is just... all borked up, which is a thing that connects him to the multiverse more than physically makes him up. Other monsters aren't made of Ouch Energy, it's just the skeleton ones he has an issue with (and, unfortunately, deals with the most.)

#k answers #k headcanons #feat. error #tbh he's got a good reason to have that aversion #just THINKING about it makes MY teeth set ugh

[smells-like-mettaton]

#3 from the sensory prompts (Snow being shoved down the back of your coat) with Papyrus and Undyne, the best friends! Add as many characters as you want tho, I just love the idea of a Undertale gang snowball fight :D Ty!!

Reverse-Fetch

Rating: G Word Count: 1051 Read on AO3: here

XXX

Papyrus’s bones rattled with excitement. Doggo and Greater Dog stood at attention on either side of him, their wagging tails whacking him occasionally. As a sentry, he didn’t have armor to dull the hits—yet!—but their tails were soft and fluffy, so it was just like being hit with a pillow. Or what he assumed being hit with a pillow would feel like. He’d never actually been in a pillow fight before.

But. Now that he was practically in the Royal Guard, he was sure to make a friend! And then they could have pillow fights, and sleepovers, and whatever else friends did!

“Alright. Listen up!” Undyne barked as she paced back and forth through the snow. 

Her arms were folded neatly behind her back, one of her cyan spear-shaped bullets tucked in the crook of her elbow. Its light gleamed off of her polished armor. Papyrus tried to stop staring and focus on what she was saying. 

“Today’s training is an exercise in dodging and aiming! It doesn’t make a difference how strong you are if you can’t land a hit on your opponent—or if an opponent lands a hit on you.”

Whirling, she threw her spear straight through Greater Dog’s chest, and it barked in surprise. The attack wouldn’t do damage, of course—Undyne never had the intent to hurt a fellow monster, and even if she had, Greater Dog’s armor was hollow in the middle.

“So… we’re playing catch?” Dogamy asked from Greater Dog’s other side.

“No! We’re playing—the opposite of catch! Anti-catch!” Undyne said.

“...Fetch?” Dogaressa asked tentatively. Lesser Dog’s neck stretched in excitement.

“I like fetch!” Papyrus chimed in, not wanting to be left out.

Undyne snorted softly, shaking her head.

“Think of it like, uh… reverse-fetch! You’re gonna be the one throwing the balls. Snowballs.” Undyne picked one up a handful of snow and packed it tightly. “Then instead of trying to throw ‘em far away for each other to fetch, you’re gonna aim to hit each other. Got it?”

The sounds of affirmative barking and panting surrounded him. Papyrus joined in to the best of his ability.

“HECK YEAH!!” Undyne roared before nailing him in the face with her snowball.

Oh ho ho! She might have struck the first blow, but Papyrus was a sovereign of snow! A boss of balling! A pioneer of powder!!

He dove behind a snowpoff as the field erupted into chaos. This appeared to be a few of the dogs’ first time crafting snowballs. Undyne hadn’t assigned teams, but it was important to hep out your fellow guardsmen, right?

“Doggo!” He called before somersaulting over to the dog’s hiding place—a different snowpoff. “Would you like some assistance from an expert snowball craftsman?”

Doggo squinted at him. Right, he could only see things that were moving. Well, that was no problem! Papyrus could stim for hours! He wiggled back and forth, the snowpoff vibrating from his energy.

“Huh? Uh, sure! It’s Papyrus, right?” 

“It absotutely is!” Papyrus held out his hand for a shake. “And you’re Doggo! A highly respected and popular member of the Royal Guard!”

“I don’t know about that… but, uh, thanks.” Doggo grinned and shook his hand. “You think you can help us hit the guys that aren’t moving?”

“You bet your bones I can!!”

Snowballs whizzed overhead as Papyrus taught Doggo how to best pack the snow. A perfectly smooth sphere, for optimal aerodynamicisity. 

“Lesser Dog would be better at this,” Doggo grumbled to himself. 

“You’re doing fantastic!!” 

Papyrus already had a pile of snowballs sitting next to him by the time Doggo finished his first, but that was fine! It took practice to be as speedy as himself!

“Okay. I’m going to aim for the other dogs who are trying to hide. That means you get the honor of taking down Undyne!” Papyrus grinned.

He would have loved to target Undyne himself, but she was the only one consistently moving. She stood in the middle of the clearing, whirling a spear to slice through any snowball that flew near her. When she retaliated, her snowballs had a way of curving in midair to hit the others from behind. (It was exciting to know that someone besides Papyrus could do that!)

She hadn’t focused her attention on Papyrus and Doggo yet, though. They must be hidden better than he’d thought!

“ALRIGHT! LET’S GET MOVING!” Doggo howled.

They leapt up, flinging snowballs with precision (in Papyrus’s case) and reckless energy (in Doggo’s). 

“Ha! You’ll have to try harder than THAT!” Undyne grinned as she smacked Doggo’s shots out of the sky. 

“SHE’S MOVING TOO MUCH!!” Doggo said.

“Don’t worry! I have your back, my friend!!” Papyrus stopped targeting Dogaressa, who had elected to start rolling in the snow for “camouflage,” and aimed for Undyne.

“You think you can hit me?” she bellowed dramatically as his shot flew high. “In the name of everyone’s hopes and dreams, I’ll punish—”

The snowball swooped back around, striking the back of her neck.

“NGAHHHHH!!!!” She jumped and tried to scrape the snow out of the back of her armor. “WHO WAS THAT?”

The battlefield went silent. Doggo nudged Papyrus forwards. 

Dang it. Doggo was a snitch. And Papyrus had thought their friendship had been going so well, too.

“It was I, the Great Papyrus!” He posed, his jean jacket billowing dramatically in the wind. If he was to be reprimanded for his skillful throw, he might as well claim the credit proudly.

Undyne stomped over to him, leaving deep bootprints in her wake. Her toothy grin twisted menacingly.

“Well, Great Papyrus,” She loomed over him, “I’ve got a special prize for such a good shot.”

“Really?” He stood up straighter. 

Was this it? Had he finally earned her respect? Was she going to instate him as an official guard?

“Really! Here it comes!!”

She took the snowball hidden in her gauntleted hand and shoved it down the back of his jacket.

“...That’s it?” He pouted. 

“That’s… aww, come on, you’re not even shivering!” Undyne threw her hands in the air. 

“Of course not. I don’t have skin.” He held back a laugh. 

“Ugh! Forget it! I’ve got a better prize!!”

 She wrestled him into a headlock, laughing near his ear cavities.

“Noooo! Not this horrible noogie!” 

#fic tag #tali writes #prompt requests #undyne #papyrus #papyrus & undyne #papyrus & doggo #thank you for this request!! #sorry it took so long i have been doing So Much lol

[willsimpforanyone]

*slides in on whelles* ok uhhh tis might bee odd so if this ask goes in da trash that's ok, ok here is da ask: uhh how will the 7+nico will react if their s/o can uhh do shape sifting into animals(+ where versons of said animal) and video game characters what are their reaction to that?? idc if it hc or dables

this is a bit of a clusterfuck of an ask but i love the randomness so thank you for your patience and lets go! i'm gonna focus on the animals of that's okay

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Percy Jackson Immediately wants to know if you can shift into underwater creatures. Plays a game where he calls you 'my little...' and you have to turn into whatever animal he says. This has resulted in some very confused friends but it's worth it.

Annabeth Chase Absolutely a dog person and would adore it if you turned into a golden retriever or a samoyan. Would want to test the extent of your abilities, like if you can change just your arms or something, but only with your consent, of course.

Jason Grace At one point found you as an octopus in the bath and lost his absolute shit laughing so hard. Once he gets over the novelty it'll just be a thing that happens, he just finds you as an animal and accepts it. Sometimes he pets the wrong dog but that just means he pets two dogs.

Piper McLean Will stick her head into whichever room you're in to ask questions. Can you turn into a racoon? Can you turn into a stag? The answer is always yes, but she now has several wikipedia pages open on her laptop on increasingly obscure creatures.

Leo Valdez If you're willing he might occasionally ask you to turn in to something small to fix a wire in a machine he's built. Also discovered that you being a dog or a small bear is very helpful pressure-wise when he has panic attacks.

Frank Zhang You can do it too! Makes a game with you of who can turn into an animal the fastest or see if you can both turn into the same animal without talking about it. It's not uncommon for him to end up with a cat on his lap, both exhausted after shifting for an hour straight.

Hazel Leveque I don't think she'd be particularly bothered? Like she'll send you an amused smile if she see a dolphin on the sofa but otherwise she's pretty chill about it. Maybe thinks about the tactical uses, like using an eagle to scout around.

Nico di Angelo Thinks it's the funniest thing ever to throw a bone for you when you're a dog. Has a particular fondness for you as a hellhound or a large wolf and might find it easier to express affection for you if you're an animal but he still loves you either way

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i hope you enjoyed!

#percy jackson #annabeth chase #jason grace #piper mclean #leo valdez #frank zhang #hazel levesque #nico di angelo #imagine #headcanons #pjo #hoo

[honeypiehotchner]

EXCUSE ME— that ask has me on my KNEES. i have so. many. thoughts.

like aaron coming straight home from work, briefcase in hand, and it all starts when you greet him with a gentle kiss and a “welcome home, agent hotchner” and he surprises himself, his reaction is that visceral because that’s new. to you he’s always aaron, never agent, never agent hotchner, rarely even hotch. and it’s not like you’re subtle about your obvious attraction to him, but this is the first time his job title has come into the mix - his familiarity with leadership, his experience as a seasoned profiler, his naturally dominant persona in the interrogation room - and admittedly, his brain is going a little haywire.

as is yours, because god, he’s just walked in and he’s in that button down of his, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and dress pants hugging his thighs just right. so you’re tugging him to the bedroom - and then you’re asking him to treat you like one of his suspects - to talk to you in that gruff voice of his that rumbles deep and low in his stomach. but it adds a much needed levity to the weight of the day because he’ll ask you simple things like “what did you do today?” and “did you miss me?” rewarding you for every satisfactory answer with kisses peppered to your collar bone and mouth and neck, everywhere all at once, and an orgasm or two because look at you all riled up. and of course he’ll throw in occasional question that you’re bound to get wrong, playing disappointed, chiding you - sometimes you’ll lie, just to see if he’ll catch you, challenging him to dish out punishment

y’all out here writing god tier smut in my asks like it’s NOTHING 😵‍💫

anywho, sharing with the class bc this is 👀👀👀

#anon asks #you ask i answer #aaron hotchner #criminal minds

[stellasfictionalworld]

Ch.2 Scaredy Cat

oc x dean winchester

cw: yellow fever ep, implied sex, fluff, hurt/comfort, dean :((

.

.

.

Fuck, torture, and eat.

Hailey wiped her blade clean with her feet propped up on her dashboard. A lonely, fruitless life but in return there was lots of thrill. Her phone rang and she put it on speaker.

“It’s Hailey,” she said.

“Hey Hailey,” her brows shot up, it was Sam, “Could you do me, us, a favor?” he spoke quietly.

“Whatcha want?” she asked and put her knife in her backpack.

Rockridge, Colorado 

… 

Hailey drove through a small town in Colorado looking for an address of a motel. Her eyes half-lidded as she drove in silence but then her heart spiked. Her foot slammed on the break as a man sprinted in front of her car, screaming. She squinted as he started to run in the middle of the street with the cutest little dog happily trailing him. 

“Dean?” she said. 

…

“Seriously Sam?” Dean shouted.

Hailey pressed her lips into a thin line and sat in a chair. The motel was quiet for a brief second and Sam shrugged. 

“I thought we could use a little bit of help,” Sam said.

“What? By having the witch babysitting me?” Dean scoffed. 

Sam just gave him a look, confirming the thought. Hailey pretended to observe her wine-red acrylics with interest. 

“You have anything to say?” Dean asked. 

“No, don’t mind the babysitting,” she said. “Anyway, don't ya want Sam to go out there with a clear head?” she looked up at him. He was silent, jaw still locked and green eyes pierced her skin. She gave him a pearly white smile and leaned back into her chair. 

“So we’re good here?” Sam asked.

“Peachy,” Dean crossed his arms over his chest. 

Hailey silently nodded and looked at Sam. He let out a sigh of relief and put his jacket on. 

“Don’t kill each other, please,” the younger brother gave Dean a look. Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes. Sam gave a single nod to Hailey to which she returned with a salute. 

The motel room was silent as Dean sat on a bed. He sat straight up with sweat on his brow and eyes flicking to every inch of the room. While Hailey stayed seated at the small dining table facing the door. She’d cracked open a book from her bag and occasionally eyed Dean. Especially when he’d get up to put something away, he’d cover sharp objects, or throw something in the trash. They’d meet eyes, and he couldn’t even hide the fear bubbling up inside him. She gave him a reassuring smile, and she had no idea if it helped him. Maybe it made him want to kill her even more. 

“What are you reading?” he asked after shutting off the TV. He looked up from the couch and she showed him the cover. An Offer From A Gentleman by Julia Quinn. Dean smirked and she raised a brow at that. 

“What?” she asked.

“Didn’t take you for a romance reader,” he said. 

“Oh c’mon now,” she laughed, “I’m sucha hopeless romantic.”

“A Bridgerton hopeless romantic?” he asked. 

She placed her receipt on the page she had left off on and closed it. 

“Course,” she grinned. 

He let out an unexpected laugh and cleared his throat. Dean glanced behind her and then at the TV. He sat up from his chair and sat on the edge of the bed. He faced her with his hands interlaced and his knee bopping. 

“You’ve got this yellow fever real bad don’t you?” Hailey asked. 

He shrugged and dragged his hands over his face. She got up and sat beside him on the bed. Their shoulders touched and she sighed deeply. 

“S’ry this even happened to you,” she said, “doesn’t seem like you deserve it,” Hailey looked to him. His tired eyes glanced at her and he looked back at the room. 

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“But you said, you’d wanna kill me. So maybe you do,” she scrunched her nose imagining the way he’d prefer to kill her. She knew he would do it, he’d killed many monsters in his time. Hailey could smell the demon on herself every day but under it, her heart beat that of a human. Dean most likely saw it differently, all her flesh and bone that of a witch. A shell of her former life, just a host for a sickening magic. Maybe he just saw her as a monster. 

Dean was silent, and so was she. Sitting there side by side as his jumpiness worsened. He was flinching at every sound, and his face was sheet white. Hailey got up and sat back down with her book in hand. She opened where she had stopped and started to read out loud. Her southern accent with some lines sounded stupid, making Dean laugh. She’d jab him gently in the side for it and rolled her eyes. 

She’d gotten through a chapter and a half when Dean got up. He stood in front of Hailey, muttering to the air. Hailey’s brows furrowed and she realized he was hallucinating. 

“Lillith, leave her out of this,” he said louder. 

Hailey’s heart swelled, that scaredy cat Dean was protecting her from his delusion of Lillith.

“Dean, she ain’t real. It’s your mind,” Hailey could feel it. The ghost's curse was getting stronger, pulling Dean to the end of it. Sam hadn’t contacted her yet, and Dean didn’t seem to hear her. 

“Wait. I’mma damn witch,” she stood up and grabbed his hand. It was ice cold and he didn’t seem to notice her. She muttered under her breath and felt her blood boil. She tried to hook on to the curse, but she somehow kept missing. 

“Please, please,” Dean croaked and his fingers slipped out of her hand. He kneeled on the ground, holding his fist to his chest. 

“Dean,” Hailey felt useless as she dropped to the ground. She’d never dealt with ghosts and here she was paying for it. Tears pricked her eyes as she put her hand on his shoulder. “You’re gonna be okay,” she said softly. 

There was a brief moment of silence, and her heart was in her throat. Hailey shook him slightly as he started to gasp for air. He sat up with a hand over his chest, and his red eyes were no longer dull. 

“Dean,” Hailey said and he met eyes with her. “You’re okay,” she said more for herself than him. He nodded, took in a deep breath and out. Tears of relief pricked his eyes and she smiled warmly at him.

“You two are real good at takin’ care of each other,” she said just as her phone rang. She answered, telling an out-of-breath Sam that Dean made it. She skipped over the near-death experience for everyone’s sake. When she was done, she had Dean catch up with him on the phone. Hailey decided to sit by him on the floor, the toes of her shoes hitting each other. 

“Thanks,” Dean hung up the phone. He held her gaze as she took her phone back in her jacket. She huffed and still felt weird. Warm gooey feelings floated alongside her terror and shock. 

“Can I give you a hug?” she asked.

His brows shot up, “Sure,” he said. She wrapped her arms around him and he hesitantly hugged her back. They sat there for a beat before he pulled away. He blinked his eyes rapidly before getting up slowly.

“Better get ready to go, we’re gonna meet up with Bobby soon,” Dean helped Hailey up and she nodded. “If you’d like to join us–”

“Course,” Hailey didn’t let him finish and he smiled softly. He grabbed her book and handed it back. “I’ll just uh, tail you guys?” she asked.

“Yeah, sounds good.” 

…

Hailey drove in silence, tailing the Impala. Her fingers thrummed against the wheel, wondering about Lillith. How could she lure her out? Really? It had been a month of working out a plan between long phone calls with Sam. She’d kept up killing demons which Hawkins gave her, but she was drowning in jobs.

She parked beside the boys and sat in her car. She blew air out her lips, feeling them quake. Hailey bit down on them and blinked her eyes rapidly. She’d go to a job in Illinois after this, and it suffocated her. 

A knock on her window caused her to jump. Dean flashed her a smile and waved with a beer in hand. She got out of the car and took one of the beers.

“Thanks,” she said.

“You okay?” he asked. His eyes lingered on her face which no longer was caked in foundation. The sunken bags under her eyes, and acne was incredibly prominent. She knew exactly what she was doing to cause it too, but she couldn’t stop it. Her cycle of a poor diet (with a side of demons), poor sleeping cycle, and stress build-up were the main causes.  

“I will be,” she smiled back up at him. She popped off the beer top and took a sip from it. Dean squinted at her when she scrunched her nose before looking up at him. 

“Are you okay?” she asked. 

“I will be,” he said. 

She smiled and hit his shoulder gently. She nodded in the direction of Bobby and Sam. They had cracked open their beers, Sam sitting on the back of the Impala. Bobby leaned on his truck, giving a nod to the duo. 

“C’mon scaredy cat,” she walked past Dean. 

“The hell, you bitch,” he said. 

… 

Dean drove the Impala on the dark highway, long grassy hills flashed by. Sam was asleep in the passenger seat. Soft snores and night radio usually put Dean at ease. Yet he couldn’t shake off the cold feeling in his chest. The hairs on the back of his neck raised and he was stuck looking for something, someone. The demon that had undone him, or the demon who was ready to kill him again.

He turned the windshields on as it began to rain. Then, Hailey. Dean bit the inside of his cheek. He couldn't get a read on her, well he did, but. Dean was a simple man. The old ways have worked fine, so why not use them now? Why should he give Hailey mercy, just because she’s nice? His eyes flicked to his brother whose face was pressed up against glass. Sam had been different, always so the light at the end of the tunnel. It was something Dean was envious of, but also ridiculously angry about. His brother's idea brought them some good, but some bad. At least Dean’s were simple, quick, and didn’t need a second thought. 

However, Bobby Singer, a dictionary definition of sticking to the old hunting ways, trusted Hailey. Maybe just maybe, after today's events. Dean would give her a real chance, after all, a part of him felt he owed her that. She’d shown him simple acts of kindness in a vulnerable time. Her hand on his shoulder, reading out loud to keep him distracted, and that hug. That just about made his heart explode, if not for the fear override. He couldn’t remember the last time someone held him like that, if ever. 

There was not a hint of deceit or judgment in her brown eyes. She’d scrunch her nose in distaste, and her fingers drummed against her thigh often. There were a million more things he could name about her in those moments because she became the perfect distraction. He’d hold those things close to his chest, to remember that Hailey, not the Demon Butcher. He’d yet to see that side of her in action, and he prayed she wouldn't change. For both their sakes. 

He saw a gas station up ahead and turned his blinker on. Until those pieces of humanity were gone, Dean decided it was time to put a little trust in her. 

#oc x dean winchester #dean winchester #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester x female!oc #yehaaw witch oc #sam winchester #yellow fever ep #fluff #hurt/comfort #hailey's sweeter side :) #soon we'll see the other... but lets see how this goes #GAH DEAN

[kennieswrld]

my review on hookup culture (so far at least)

Since joining the world of hookups last year, I've learned quite a few things. These things being; Tinder is solely for hookups, Hinge says it's for "long term/non-hookup like" relationships (if you're looking for something more hetero-normative then the men will 10/10 be looking for pure hookups- nothing more), Bumble and all the other D-list dating apps are complete ass and have redditor-like oddballs lurking behind every profile. But the biggest thing I've learned was how men don't have a single relationship-like bone in their bodies (the one's on dating apps at least).

I have been on countless horrible dates with men with whom I would have self-esteem-lowering sex that same night and never see again. I have had the totally scripted "talking stage" with around 50 men whose names I will never try to remember. I even had the occasional guy of the month that I would go on casual dates with before being ghosted (totally fine, this totally didn't send me on an emotional spiral from not feeling adequate enough for anyone). And after a while I began thinking, "Well gee! Maybe I am the problem!" which yes, is slightly true. But in the case of the constant "wyd tn?" text on my lock screen, I can't be the issue...right?

Yes, I have started realizing that my internet persona that I have crafted over the past 6 years is probably the reason for all of these horned-up men in my phone (because being attractive AND a person looking for something that isn't totally focused on my own body is totally not a thing anymore!). But, that can't be the only reason for all of these men to treat me like a disposable vape at a frat party. I am way more than that. I am literally human.

So for a while, I stopped entertaining the hookup-like texts and started to focus on a guy we will call- Jimmy. Jimmy and I held amazing banter and some of the same interests. It totally felt like we had an instant connection (i also have bipolar and this could be the real issue here but that's for a later time), I was so excited over this guy and literally started dreaming of him. But as soon as we tried making plans to meet up and do something in person, he literally snapped his fingers and went straight into "wyd tn?" mode. It was absolutely horrifying seeing in real time how fast men can flip that switch.

I honestly started writing this because I felt as if I had something important to say regarding this issue in my life. But it feels like whatever that thought is has vanished. Even though I've barely lived a full life, it feels like my life is scarred and tainted by all of the atrocities men have thrown my way. Whether it be me getting cheated on, assaulted, gaslit, or being used for sex, men never stop messing with me.

For a moment, being a part of this hook-up culture I felt like I finally held the control they think they had over me. I felt like I could throw that shitty part of my life away. But with this bullshit, I feel helpless. It feels as if I have to completely give up on the idea of trying to be romantic to discard this entire fiasco. But why do I have to make this sacrifice? Being good for your own mental health is unfair and difficult some days.

I will be totally fine with not receiving another obvious fuck-boys attention ever again. But this shit makes me feel as if no one sees me for me, only my physical being. I'm sure it will get better, I just felt like complaining this morning.

#diary entry #blog #journal #dating #relationships #just girly thoughts