#share⬅

[ballisterboldheart]

as knight story nears completion i have to grapple with the fact that i have to. let people Read it.

#s.txt #you don't understand i would rather die than share it <3 which is why i've been so Vague abt it #like it's first and Foremost for ME. an audience of one. #i mean i do have a Plan of setting up a website for the Whole series etc etc but also. i am insane enough to just. not. #no one gets to read it but me 😌 #⬅ she is afraid of it being bad and either no one telling her or Everyone telling her

[empresskylo]

beneath the mask ✩ chapter 10 ⬅ch.9

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠CHAPTER TAGS | violence. sexual assault implications. blood. wc 5.4k ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | hehe enjoy

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

…uzbekistan…

you woke to arabic voices, your eyes squinting open in discomfort. your head was pounding and your stomach thrummed with a wave of nausea. you quickly remembered you had been hit with the butt of a rifle, right beneath your ribs. you leaned over in the moving vehicle and dry heaved. 

“innahā mustayqiẓatun,” she’s awake .

you sat back up, the realization of what had happened hitting you. you went to wipe your mouth and found your hands were bound together with a rope. you groaned and awkwardly carried out the action with your hands linked. 

laswell . you quickly looked around, not seeing laswell in the the truck with you. you were in the backseat beside a man who was speaking hurriedly to the man in front, driving. you looked out the window, the town rushing by. 

“where’s laswell?” you asked, your voice hoarse. the men ignored you. “my friend. where is she?” you said with a bit more force hoping one of them would answer you. 

they continued to talk as if you weren’t there. you ground your teeth together in annoyance. you rested your head against the window, the cold of the glass helping with the tension throbbing in your skull. 

your body was still pumping with adrenaline and you were finding it hard to sit still. your fingers wound themselves together, your leg bouncing up and down. you hoped laswell was okay. you also hoped she was going to the same place you were… you didn’t want to be alone, as cruel as that might be. you were trapped in this truck with three men—three men who kidnapped you. you had no idea where they were taking you or what they were going to do with you. the panic hit you like a slap in the face.

you tried to breathe slowly, letting out low breaths, trying to steady your nerves. it did little to help. 

would the others be coming to rescue you and laswell? surely they would. shepherd wouldn’t let them give up on you two. at least not laswell, she was far too important. and price wouldn’t stand for it. 

they were coming. you prayed to god they were coming. 

“lieutenant. it’s farah. it’s time.” 

“rog. wheels down in one.” ghost voice was hoarse as he answered farah over the comms. “nik, convoy’s inbound. we’re on.”

“copy that,” nikolai responded. “over the hlz now.”

ghost’s heart rate continued to rise the longer you and laswell were kept hostage. he clenched the gun at his hip and patted himself down, making sure he had all he would need to get the two of you back. he also found it hard to stay still, his body flooded with adrenaline. 

“good. set ‘er down and hold,” ghost said. he walked to the door of the helicopter, looking between gaz and soap. “gaz, you stay in the heli on overwatch. we’ll work our way up the line.”

“roger that. let’s thin the herd, get laswell and iaso back.”

when the helicopter landed only moments later, ghost and soap connected fists with gaz as they hopped out. on the ground, dirt whipping around them from the blades of the helicopter, a woman on a rusted bike sat waiting for the two men. 

“hey, lt., sergeant,” she called out, greeting the men. 

“farah. thanks for the assist,” soap replied when ghost didn’t respond, noticing how he had tensed up.

“we share a common enemy,” farah said, nodding at the men.

“and friends in need,” ghost said a bit harshly. “are you ready?”

“all set. see you down the road!” she slid up her mask and pulled get goggles over her eyes. she looked so self-assured, ready to take down men twice her size. ghost thought about how you would have liked her. 

“all stations… we’re on the move!” ghost called as he and soap jogged up to the beige truck waiting for them. 

the two men jumped in the bed of the truck, ghost slapping the top of the roof to let the driver know they were on board and ready to go. 

the procession of three trucks and multiple motorcycles took off down the dirt road. 

“all stations, we’re up—comms check…” farah’s voice rang in ghost’s ear. 

“good copy,” ghost grunted. 

“check,” gaz responded from 30 feet in the air, his sniper at the ready as he pointed it out the door of the helicopter. 

“loud and clear,” nikolai said. 

“the al-qatala convoy just passed us. we’ll be right behind them,” farah urged. 

“copy. nik, use the ravine for cover. we’ve got one shot to rescue them.”

“roger that,” nik responded to ghost. 

“what vehicle are they in?” gaz asked. 

“al-qatala has iaso in a black suv, laswel in the similar one right in front of hers. near the front of the convoy.” farah’s voice echoed. 

“we hit the escort vehicles first. then we secure laswell and iaso before aq can reach the border.” ghost commanded. “soldiers, move in!” 

gaz began to fire shots at aq that were standing in the back of truck beds. ghost gripped his gun as he aimed the barrel toward the aq vehicles up ahead. he was too far back to get a good shot and growled in irritation. 

ghost leaned over the side of the truck, shouting to the man driving, his window down. “get me up beside one of the aq trucks!”

the driver nodded and stepped on the gas. “what’re ya doin’?” soap asked ghost. 

“gettin’ the girls back,” he said before stepping onto the top of the truck and running down the front onto the hood, immediately jumping and landing on the back of an aq truck. one of the men stood and came at ghost, but gaz was faster, shooting a bullet through his skull before he could reach him. 

“thanks,” ghost said.

“don’t mention it.”

ghost’s fist came slamming down onto the other aq, shoving him off the back of the truck. he sheathed his gun momentarily, maneuvering himself over the edge of the truck, his hand clutching tightly to the metal, his other hand opening the driver’s door. the man shouted something in arabic as ghost grabbed the collar of his shirt and ripped him from the truck. the man went tumbling on the pavement, his hands coming up over his head as the bikes raced around him. 

ghost pushed himself into the driver’s seat with a huff. he yanked the door shut and floored it. 

“jesus, lt.,” soap breathed, watching the events unfold. 

ghost would have chuckled at soap’s astonishment, but all that was on his mind was getting you back unharmed. 

of course ghost cared about laswell. he had worked with her for a while now, and he’d never admit it, but he cared about price too. and price and laswell were close. price had been fuming when he found out what happened on this mission—pissed at himself for not being there, as if he could have done something to stop laswell from getting taken if he hadn’t asked ghost to take his position. 

but laswell wasn’t ghost’s main objective. it was you. you were who he was about to slaughter through walls of men for. it was you his heart pounded in nerves for. he felt so sick when he thought about what they might be doing to you that he almost had to lean over to retch. 

and laswell—while out of practice—was a trained killer. you, on the other hand, had only started to take combat training seriously the past few weeks. the thought made ghost’s chest constrict painfully tight. if they put one hand on you…

he let out a shallow breath, turning the wheel to the truck abruptly, avoiding civilian cars while trying to move up the procession of aq trucks. 

soap had an eye on ghost’s truck and saw the way he was swerving between oncoming cars to get closer to the front. soap almost regretted his conversation with ghost earlier. he was worried it had gotten through to him—that ghost was ready to risk his life, acting far too rashly, to clear his conscience. 

ghost spotted the black suv farah had mentioned earlier up ahead. it was pretty far off in the distance and with aq trucks clogging the road, and oncoming traffic coming from the other direction, ghost slammed his hand on the wheel in frustration. it was going to take too long for him to get up close. 

“throwing molotov!” farah’s voice rang in ghost’s ears, bringing him back to the moment. he saw the truck behind him go up in flames in his side mirror. 

“heh-heh… i missed farah,” nikolai laughed. 

the commotion in his ears faded to a rumble. ghost was focusing on how to get to you before it was too late, everything else was just background noise to him. he heard nikolai and gaz yelling in his ears but nothing was getting through to him. 

an aq truck pulled up beside him and ghost immediately pulled his gun and began shooting. the truck stuttered backward before pulling back up and firing at him again. ghost ducked and swerved the vehicle. he slammed the side of his truck into the other, catching them off guard and using that as an opportunity to shoot back at them. before he could reload, the enemy truck exploded, turning into a ball of flames. 

he heard farah laughing over the comms. jesus, she was intense, and ghost was thankful for it. 

the further he drove, the farther you seemed to get from him. civilian vehicles were only getting in the way, the aq trucks swerving all over the road, preventing ghost and his other men from getting past them. 

a car exploded before ghost, making him grip the wheel tightly, trying to turn out of the way. that wasn’t an aq truck…

“they’re taking down civilian vehicles! blocking the roads!”

shit. 

you heard the explosions going off somewhere in the distance behind you. you turned to look out the back window and saw a large commotion, vehicles going all over the road, a procession of motorcycles with riders shooting men in trucks. 

a feeling of relief swam through you— they came. 

you continued to watch, unable to do anything else. you observed as a car that was rushing in the opposite direction blew up, rotating onto its back and igniting in flames. 

“wait… those are just civillians,” you muttered to yourself. “hey! you’re killing innocent people!” you shouted. you couldn’t believe it. they were taking innocent lives, completely uncaring, their only objective was to block the roads. 

you turned to the man beside you in astonishment, ready to yell again, when his hand came down on your face, slapping you across the cheek. your head flew in the opposite direction, your lips parting in a gasp. 

“no more talking,” he said in a heavy accent. 

you gulped, looking forward. you licked your lips and could taste the blood from your busted lip. the other men laughed as they looked at you in the rearview mirror, muttering something you couldn’t understand in arabic. 

you were going to have to be smarter about this. you sat silently in your seat. you began to worry that your teammates wouldn’t be able to get to you in time. there were a lot of aq vehicles trailing behind you. you weren’t sure how they’d manage to get through them all. 

you heard the engine of a helicopter and you turned, looking out one of the back windows again. your jaw dropped. oh my god, was that gaz? gaz was fucking hanging from a rope attached to the helicopter, upside down, continuing to shoot at enemy soldiers. you gasped when he almost swung right into a truck. your heart raced as you watched him. 

a bend in the road cut off your vision and you faced forward again. you didn’t want anyone risking their life for you. as much as you wanted rescuing, you didn’t want it at the expense of others. the image of gaz swinging wildly in the air was plastered in your mind. these men were going to get themselves killed. and it was going to be your fault. 

ghost felt like he was running out of options as you rapidly approached the border. 

“gaz, nik—my spotters are reporting an aq roadblock ahead.” farah’s voice came in through the comms in a level-headed voice. 

“affirm, i see it,” nikolai responded. “you might have to ram through.”

“crash it. kill as many as you can,” ghost echoed into his mic. 

ghost gripped his steering wheel, stepping on the gas as he approached the roadblock. he spotted gaz coming up right behind him in an aq truck. 

both men tore through the aq men, trudging past the trucks lined up to block them, destroying anything in their wake. ghost felt beyond destructive. he felt lethal.

“nik, i punched through,” gaz said as him and ghost got on the other side of the roadblock. 

“be advised. there is a situation up the road.” nikolai’s voice sent a shiver through ghost. he was just waiting for someone to say your black suv blew up, or crashed, or they lost track of it. 

“aq is deploying mines on the highway!”

“these are civillains, nik,” gaz said in anguish. “aq will burn for this.”

“i’ll bring the matches,” farah chimed in. 

ghost managed to weave between the charred cars, praying he didn’t hit a mine. 

further up the road, ghost swung open his door, timing it just right so when an aq motorcycle rode up right beside him, with great strength, he shoved the man off and hopped on. he watched as the truck ran off the road and crashed into a rocky hill. 

ghost revved the bike’s engine, gaining far more speed than he ever could in the pilfered truck. 

he heard gaz and nik conversing, then soap yelling over the comms for gaz to get on board the truck bed he was in. 

ghost floored it down the road, watching as the procession ahead of him split off in two different directions. 

“shit! they’re splitting them up!” soap called out. 

“who do we follow?” gaz asked as he picked up the grenade launcher.

ghost grit his teeth. “soap, gaz—follow laswell. i’ll follow iaso.” 

“you sure, lt.?”

“we don’t have time to argue about this, soap. just go.”

soap and gaz looked at one another before nodding. the convoy split up. soap and gaz followed laswell and ghost went off the road, following the black suv you were trapped inside. the car was going too fast for the others to keep up. ghost was glad he got on a bike, it was the only way he’d be able to get up to you in time. 

ghost’s own words rang in his head, the ones he had said to you in the bar. the words that hurt you. the words he had regretted ever since they left his tongue. you were going to die thinking he hated you. thinking he used you. 

ghost clenched the handlebars to the bike tighter, narrowing his eyes as he hurried behind you. he was going to get you back even if it killed him.

you knew you were going off the road the second the vehicle began to bump up and down. you tried to clutch onto something to keep from falling off the seat, but it was difficult with your hands tied. 

the men in the suv with you were yelling at one another. then the stout man beside you leaned out his window and began shooting. 

you turned to look out the window. your stomach dropped. the convoy was gone. you only saw one motorcycle trailing behind you. the others must have split off. this was their plan. to split you and laswell up, thus splitting up the convoy of rescuers. 

you tried not to let the fact that only one person was trailing you to hurt your feelings. now was not the time to be sensitive. but you couldn’t help but wonder if laswell had the rest of your team following her. it made sense, though. she was laswell… and you were just…iaso.

you yelped as the vehicle took an abrupt turn, making you slam into the man beside you. he shoved you off and rushed to reload his gun. you looked behind you in horror, realizing it was ghost on the bike, finally able to make out his mask as he edged closer. 

the man beside you went to lean back out the window, ready to send bullets in ghost’s direction. you acted before you could think, using your tied hands to claw at his back. you gripped onto the cotton material of his shirt and yanked him backward. he was so caught off guard from the sudden attack that he stumbled and crashed back on the seat beside you. 

he said something in arabic then hit you across the face again. your head flew back and hit the edge of the door. you groaned in pain. you squeezed your eyes shut, your head throbbing. 

they took a sharp turn and you were jostled back, opening your eyes in response. the man in the passenger’s seat leaned out his window now and began to shoot his pistol. you heard him make a celebratory noise and you almost broke your neck turning around to look for ghost. 

ghost’s bike skidded out from under him, sending him crashing down. the bullet had blown a hole in his tire. 

“no,” you said softly. your lips trembling. he was your last hope. 

you watched full of dread as the truck carried you away. ghost sat up and brushed himself off. he looked out after you, standing in the middle of nowhere, at a loss of what to do. 

tears began to slide down your cheek.

“i lost her,” ghost said over the comms in a newfound sense of defeat. soap had never heard his voice sound quite like that. 

there was a moment of silence before ghost heard ruffling and then soap’s voice. 

“come again, lt.?”

ghost was walking back from where he came, following the tracks in the dirt. “iaso. she got away.”

again there was radio silence. 

“im on my way,” ghost heard farah say. 

“farah—”

she cut ghost off. “i started trailing you as soon as we picked off the remaining aq trucks. we’re almost to you. stay put,” she demanded. 

it wasn’t long before farah was riding up with two other men on bikes. “what happened?” farah asked, her bike skidding to a halt. 

“fuckers blew my tire. they still got iaso.”

farah looked at one of her soldiers and nodded. he hopped off his bike and held it up for ghost. farah laughed as ghost looked confused. “get on. we’re goin’ to get her.”

“laswell?” ghost asked, wanting to know if she had at least made it out okay. 

“soap and gaz got her. she’s safe.”

ghost took in a breath before accepting the bike and getting on. “let's go get her back, lieutenant.”

with a new rush of energy, ghost took off, following the tracks of the suv alongside farah and another soldier. 

“she couldn’t have gotten far!” farah called out. 

when the suv came to a stop, you were quickly escorted out of the vehicle. you stumbled, the men giving you no time to right yourself before they pushed you into a wooden building. the men roughly jostled you through the door, your eyes attempting to adjust to the dark. 

you struggled to make out where you were before the man whose hands were holding your arm shoved you into a small room. you fell to the floor at the sudden force. 

the man spat something at you that you didn’t understand then he slammed the door shut behind him. you were left alone in the room and you tried to sit up. your arm was already bruising from where he held you, and you could feel blood dripping down the side of your face. 

you scooted yourself into the corner and hugged your knees to your chest, your wrists beginning to burn as they constantly rubbed against the binding rope. 

you tried to hold back the wave of tears but you failed. you hoped they made it to kate. you hoped she wasn’t going through the same thing you were right now. though, if she was, she was no doubt coping much better than you. 

you looked around the room, trying to clear your vision from tears by blinking repeatedly. the room was mostly empty except for a chair and a lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think this was an interrogation room. 

the notion plummeted inside your stomach, making you bury your face in your knees. you weren’t going to survive this. you were weak. you were suddenly pissed at price for letting you join his team. you weren’t cut out for this shit. you were a medic, not a damn fighter. 

minutes ticked by and your tears finally dried up. the longer you sat, the more fear was instilled inside you. you regretted cursing price out already, knowing it wasn’t his fault any of this happened to you. usually, you were good under extreme pressure, but that was only when it came to medical stuff. not when you were being kidnapped. 

god, your head was killing you. you hoped you didn’t look as bad as you felt. 

the metal door scrapped along the cement floor as it opened. you looked up in horror as a man stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. he grinned when he looked at you huddled in the corner. 

“you don’t appear to be a soldier,” he said, his accent dripping over every word. 

“i’m a medic,” you said, your voice only slightly wavering. 

the man made a humming sound as he dug around in his pocket. “well, then i’m sorry to have to do this to you, but really, we have no choice.” he gestured around him. the sardonic smile on his face said he didn’t mean any of the words he was saying. he likely couldn’t wait to torture you for information, even when you’d be unable to offer anything useful. he just needed an excuse to hurt someone.

he nudged his head towards the metal chair. “don’t make me have to help you up,” he grunted. 

you quickly got to your feet and sat in the chair, your body shaking with nerves. the man grinned as he dragged the knife he drew from his pocket along your arm. “been awhile since i’ve done this to a woman. i’d be lying if i said i haven’t missed it.”

you swallowed painfully as he trailed the knife up to your neck. “you’re sick,” you spat at him. 

he chuckled. “indeed.”

you knew then that nothing you said was going to help you. this man didn’t care if you knew anything or not. he just wanted to hurt you. you didn’t want to cry, but the tears began to fall again anyway. you tried so hard to keep them in. you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. 

he licked his lips as he watched the tears glide down your cheeks. “pretty thing like you shouldn’t cry,” he said menacingly. 

he took his knife and traced it back down your arm until it reached your hand. “hmm. now, tell me. which finger do you like the least?”

you strangled a sob. he didn’t even interrogate you yet. he was just jumping right to the torture part “please,” you barely managed to get out. 

“oh, i like the way you beg,” he remarked. 

you grit your teeth and pulled your hands away from him. “nowhere to go,” he mocked, using his knife to gesture around the small confines of the room.

“im curious. where have you been getting your intel on hassan’s location?”

you shook your head, pulling back as far away as you could from him.

he tisked. then his hand grabbed your jaw aggressively, making you whimper. his knife came up and slid down the side of your face, this time he applied pressure and you squeezed your eyes shut. the blood wept out from the trail he left and you could feel it slide down your face and drip onto your clothes. 

the man shoved your face back as he let go, flipping his knife in his hand as he watched you with fire in his eyes. “now, i’m going to give you another chance to answer. and trust me, you won’t like what happens if you don’t tell me what i want to hear.”

you opened your mouth but nothing came out. that type of information was classified, so even if you wanted to tell him—which you wouldn’t—you didn’t know. medics didn’t get the rundown of information like that.  

when he realized you weren’t going to speak, he looked you up and down. “hm. you’re not going to be of much help, huh?” he prowled you like a cat would its prey. “how about i get some use out of you before i bloody you up too much, then?”

you didn’t like the sound of that. his knife hooked under the straps of your tactical vest and in a swift movement, he cut it away. the vest fell from you and he tossed it aside to the floor. then his knife was back along the collar of your shirt. he grinned as he ripped through your longsleeved shirt, straight down the center. you silently cried as you felt the air rush to your now exposed skin. the shirt was split down the middle exposing your tank top. 

“please don't,” you pleaded. 

you felt his fingers along the neckline of your tanktop now, his knife slipping under the fabric. you closed your eyes, waiting for the inevitable. 

just as he was about to slide his knife down your shirt, you heard yelling and the sound of guns going off in the distance. the man stopped all movement and turned around. he clearly wasn’t expecting any sort of interruption. without another word, he exited the room to investigate, leaving you alone again. 

you caught your breath, breathing in and out exceptionally fast. you let out a loose breath and looked up at the ceiling, willing your tears to slow. the loss of his grimy fingers on your skin relieved you momentarily.

you tried to calm yourself as you heard more shouting and the firing of weapons. your legs were shaking as you sat there. you tried to use your hands to pull your shredded shirt back over yourself but it was no use. you swore in exhaustion, sinking back into the chair. 

after several minutes, it was finally silent outside the room. your body set in more unease with the silence. 

the door handle shook and the awful sound of it scraping the ground made you wince as the door opened. your eyes immediately went to the door and you kept them locked on the entrance, feeling them go wide as a large figure took up the space. 

you almost choked on your breathing, a strangled sob leaving you as you locked eyes with ghost. you began to cry in relief. in shock. in horror of what almost happened—you were convinced it was really all over for you. that this was it. 

as your body shook, ghost rushed up to you. his voice was hoarse as he said your name, trying to gain your attention. you looked up at him through hot tears and gave a halfhearted smile, your lips trembling. you had held yourself together as best as you could, but now with ghost in front of you, everything came tumbling down. his mask was covered in blood and he seemed to be out of breath.

he tilted his head to the side as he looked at you, his heart squeezing painfully at the sight. your face was bloody and your shirt had been ripped apart. a newfound sense of anger coursed through ghost. 

he pulled out his knife and you flinched, hitting the back of the chair as you created space between the two of you. he took notice but didn’t stop his movements. maybe in any other scenario, he would have tried to calm you down, letting you know he was only using the knife to free you. but just the fact that you shied away from his knife sent him into a fit of rage. he saw that the cut on your face was a long, straight line. he knew then why you were suddenly acting like his knife was the scariest thing in the world. he wished he hadn’t already killed every fucking bastard in there. he would give anything to string up whoever did this to you and give them a slow death. 

he slid the knife between your hands and cut away the rope, setting your hands free. 

you immediately grasped your wrists which had turned red and rubbed raw from the rope. ghost looked down at you, still unable to say anything. your eyes met his again and you took a moment to take him in before you sprang to your feet and wrapped your arms around him. he didn’t hesitate as he hugged you back. 

he felt you sobbing into his neck and his arms tightened around your waist. “you’re okay,” he cooed softly. “you’re safe now. i’ve got you.” his heart pounded harshly in his chest and you could feel it against you.

one of his hands slid up your back and got lost in your hair as he cradled you to his body, your frontside flesh with his, wanting you as close as he could get you. he shut his eyes for a brief moment, letting reality hit him full force. he got to you in time. you were okay. you were going to be okay. 

he sank to his knees in sharp relief with you still wrapped tightly in his grasp. he let you take what you needed from him, his presence bringing you nothing but a sense of safety. he let out a long breath of relief. 

you pulled back slightly, ashamed to look at him. “i-i’m sorry,” you muttered, your hand loosening around him. 

sensing your doubt, he clung to you tighter. “stop,” he said in a voice so soft you felt your heart pinch. “this isn’t your fault.”

you felt like he was reading your thoughts better than you were. his few words hit you harder than he could ever know. you sank back into him, letting yourself go limp as he held you. 

when you both finally separated, ghost helped you to your feet. he appraised your figure and you saw the anger behind his eyes. he moved too quickly for you to take in what he was doing. he slid his vest off and then removed his longsleeved shirt, leaving him in his black undershirt. you watched in astonishment as he pulled the shirt over your head. you slid your arms in as ghost picked up his vest and put it back on. 

your eyes traced his tattooed arm and his scent immediately filled your nose. his shirt was far too big for you, hanging down over your thighs, but you were thankful. you knew it wasn’t your fault, but you were still embarrassed to have your shirt ripped and exposed like that. you didn’t want everyone else to know what happened to you. you almost felt ashamed.

ghost clenched his fist before reaching up and running a finger over the bruise above your eyebrow. “i’m sorry i couldn't get to you sooner,” he said distractedly. 

you looked up at him through your eyelashes. “ghost, don’t. it’s not your fault either.”

he wished you had called him simon. 

before he could think more on the topic and read into your every word, he scooped you up and held you in his arms bridal style. you squealed but settled into his arms quickly. his hand rubbed soft patterns on your back as he carried you out of the building. your arms hooked around his neck, your body shaking less violently, but still shaking nonetheless. 

ghost held you closer and you felt like everything was going to be okay. you rested your head on his chest and let the tears fade out slowly. 

chapter 11 ➡

#ghost #simon riley #smut #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod #ghost fanfic #simon riley fanfic #ghost call of duty #ghost angst #cod mw2 #cod fic #call of duty fanfic #mw2 fanfic #beneath the mask

[misc-obeyme]

I already posted this as a tag on a queued post but listen.

so I hc Barbatos driving the car when things aren't that official or important like maybe Dia wanted to check up on Lucifer and (my brain aint braining) like mc was in the car w Barb and music was smth Dia wod enjoy and brain hurts surgshs. im fine.

when Dia left Barb n MC just started playing metal on the loudest volume possible

it could even be heard from the inside

and the car's shaking ⬆⬇⬆⬅➡⬅➡ cause them metalheads dancing aggerssively

then Dia comes out the HOL and suddenly everything's back to normal. calm music, no dancing, nothing-

I love the image this conjured in my mind. Barbatos is always so chill, I'm just imagining him switching the music as soon as Diavolo leaves without saying anything. MC is just like oh yeah and then they start headbanging in there lol.

Meanwhile, inside the HoL, Diavolo cocks his head and he's like, "Do you hear that?"

And Lucifer just sighs 'cause somehow he knows, but he doesn't say anything. He just distracts Diavolo with whatever business they're supposed to be doing.

The moment Dia comes back outside, Barbatos just switches the music back. He and MC give no indication of anything changing.

Diavolo's just like ???? I swear I saw this car shaking around a second ago...

And listen, I think Diavolo would be totally fine with it, but it's just this cute little Barb & MC ritual so they continue to confuse him instead of telling him lol.

And if Diavolo ever asks them, they just play it off. He's like, "Did you guys hear some loud music moments ago?"

And Barbatos is just like, "Whatever do you mean, Young Master?"

And MC's all, "Yeah I didn't hear anything."

And then they share a knowing look and Dia's just sitting there like what am I missing here?!?!?

#it'd be easy for Barb to go back to being perfectly chill #but if it was me I wouldn't be able to stop giggling lol #obey me #obey me barbatos #expressionless-fr #cc mutuals #misc answers

[sparklemaia]

hey hey hey hi! I just restocked my Gumroad (⬅ that’s a link). It’s full of PDFs of lots of my journal comics. So you can print them or put them on your phone/laptop/tablet and show them to your therapist and your mom and your teacher and your roommate and that guy at the bus stop and also your axolotl, probably (I don’t know your life).  They’re all sliding scale, starting at free. Anything you’re able to contribute goes towards helping me go to cartooning school this year! My dream is to make queer graphic novels for kids and teens. ♥ Thank you so, so much to every single one of you who has reblogged my comics, left a comment or commentary in the tags (I read all of them!!), sent me a message, or shared my work. It means the world ✨

#support artists #support queer artists #support queer creators #lgbtq #queer #trans #nonbinary #genderqueer #mental health #comics #journal comics #autobio comics #gumroad

[fluffalpenguin]

⬅[Prev] Day 2: Family

@ygoc-week Day 3: Decks

I wanted to sketch something for each of my ocs with their aces but unfortunately i passed out last night so i'm just going to chuck the actual card beside a picture of them, lol

Image heavy post below!

Starting off with the Synchro Dimension, Hamelin uses a Yang Zing deck, and has two "secret roommates" (read: pet rats) that she named after Ba Xia and Jiaotu, her two main Extra Deck Aces.

She switches gears to Magikeys when in her Phantom Thief persona, who has a deep grudge against...

Jackie, who uses Swordsouls, an archetype that carries much meaning to her. Her belt is based on QXYL's sword(?)tail(?) and her unwavering devotion to an estranged childhood friend makes her a worthy wielder of the sword the card is based on, which represents integrity.

Jackie works for Fleur, who uses Aromages. As someone who is very at home behind a chessboard, she doesn't like dueling that much as it has too many uncontrollable factors, such as luck.

Moving to the Standard Dimension, first up is Cider and her Myutants! What? Her duel disk? Oh, that's because she's originally from [REDACTED]

Weird, how did we end up in the Xyz Dimension? Anyway, Alcidis uses Witchcrafters, and before you ask me how he Xyz summons with this deck, my answer is that he splashes in Dogmatika cards from his bestie:

Arte, who uses Dogmatika! When she duels, it's like a switch flips, and she looks a lot like her brother... It scares her teacher, because it reminds him of a very unpleasant memory...

Viol used Mermails during the war, but after the events of the show he upgrades his ace from Abyss Dweller to a... custom monster... that I haven't designed yet lmao sigh one day i will

Back in Academia, Faye and Fence shared a Dream Mirror deck, each memorising one side of the deck as they struggled too much to memorise and use a single deck by themselves. After they moved to Standard, Fence picked up Normal Pendulums and Faye uses a custom Xyz archetype that lets her transform like her favourite masked riders!

(Above art by @mechaseraph go throw money at them you won't regret it)

Last but not least, Fuschia with his Despians! He picked it because he loves red and purple, but more importantly, he found the love of his life... Aluber the Dogmatic. Yeah, he's one of those weirdos with a duel monster crush (same tbh)

He'd never admit he had a crush on Aluber during the events of ARC-V, but post-canon he unabashedly has a giant poster of him (pictured above) in his room.

死の舞台で闇と光こそ栄える… 答え探し道はここに途絶える！ 融合召喚！レベル⑧ デスピアン・クエリティス!

Upon this stage of death¹, darkness and light² alike thrive… Your path for answers³ ends here! I fusion summon! Level 8 Despian Quaeritis!

Did I make a summon chant in japanese too because i could yeah i may be cringe but at least im free

[1] Despia is a portmanteau of 'death' and 'thespian'. [2] His ace's fusion materials requires one Despian monster and a LIGHT or DARK monster. [3] Despian Quaeritis is named after quem quaeritis i.e. Whom do you seek? It's a question Fuschia often asks his quarry during the war. (And then he cards them all together after helping them reunite)

➞[Next] Day 4: Relationships

#yugioh oc week 23 #pasu makes ocs #ill do day 4 when i wake up (cry) #quaeritis is supposed to come out of the portal but i have no time nor energy to animate that right now pensive emoji

[writer-somewhat]

This is an index of the many, many guides created by the Fountain Of Knowledge also widely known as @inky-duchess. However I decided to organize and revise to share, after seeing one ask about whether or not there was a compilation.

Full disclosure: I very well may have missed a post or two, but do you know how many guides Inky has??? I spent a few hours scrolling (and re-scrolling when I enviably clicked a post, and had to go back) so let me know if I missed one. I'll also edit and add to the list as more guides are published.

Also, I had to breakdown the list over multiple posts due to Tumblr's constraints, so I have added a handy list with each part.

Table of Contents

Part One ⬅ You Are Here Part Two Part Three

Writing Theory

Mental Health A Great Opening Controlling The Pace Scene Transitions Character Introductions Character Description Finding Your Character's Voice Character Arcs Writing Children Believable Heroes Morally Grey Characters Unsympathetic Villains Writing Romance Chekov's Gun Handling Multi-PoVs

Writing Guides

How To Plan Part 1Part 2 Murder The Mary Sue Plot Armor Part 1Part 2 Prologues PoV Death Match Unreliable Narrators Dialogue Revenge Red Herrings Motives - Heroes & Villains Foreshadowing Show, Don't Tell Time Jumps Memories & Thoughts Happy Scenes Villain's Ending Rescue Missions & Captives Cursing Is Cool Fight Scenes Guide To Murder Colours & Symbols Glasses

Writing Tropes

Of Fantasy Rags to Riches

What Writers Can Learn From...

Black Panther Venom Mulan The King Joker A Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes The Witcher

World Building

World Building Part 1Part 2 Creating Language Myths & Legends Religion Currency Societies Legal System Government Building a Culture Heraldry- Sigils - Coat of Arms Architecture & Interiors Economy Palaces & Medieval Castles

Creature Feature

Build-A-BearCritter Griffins Dragons

#inky duchess #writing resources #writing reference #writing masterlist

[someone-elsa]

(part 1 of 4)

🔙 Chapter beginning ⬅ Previous chapter • Next part ➡ 📝 About the story and characters

The whole chapter (with bigger pictures!) can be found on Blogger already ;) Check the Blogger post for a short recap too.

It was the first warm spring day; warm enough for one to change into a bathing suit and hang out at a pool. And not just any pool, Heath had a membership to a luxurious rooftop club. He had invited his family to enjoy the view and warm water with him and Paige.   Paige had hoped they would've gone together, just the two of them but she was accustomed to having his family around. And spending time with both of her parents made Gracie happy, and Paige didn't mind Gracie being happy.

Paige had asked River to tag along but she had been busy. It had happened a lot lately. River didn't seem busy, though, it almost felt like she was avoiding to come along as often as usual. Sometimes she agreed to come but cancelled at the last minute. When Paige had asked if everything was alright, River had made jokes and assured there was nothing to worry about. Paige wasn't completely convinced but she didn't want to be nosy.

Her luck with Alex hadn't been any better. Unsurprisingly, he had come up with some obvious excuse to avoid spending time with so many people.   "You'd benefit from a little break!" she had said.   "I have my books for that," he had said and shrugged.   She had made him promise to join her next time.

Paige had thought of bringing her work laptop along and doing some research for Autumn products and ad campaigns but Heath had convinced her to focus on relaxing. He couldn't convince himself, though. He had done work-related calls for two hours and there seemed to be no end.

She had time to catch up on celebrity gossip. Judith Ward shared her thoughts on her career and her five marriages and whether she would get married again.   I love how unapolectic she is, Paige thought. People can be so nasty about her personal life and she doesn't give a damn.

Venessa Jeong had been arguing with Judith's daughter Catalina (who was an aspiring DJ and influencer™) because they were after the same man. Their feud had been going on for some time and gossip hungry public loved it. And so did the magazines.   C*ntalina should keep her eyes off of my man! There's plenty of single men for her to flirt with, Venessa answered to the magazine.   When asked for a response, Catalina had just laughed childlishly and said they were living in a free country. Eventually he'll come to his senses and realise who's the funniest to be around...

All that money and fame and still they have such mundane problems. But it's nice to see that their life isn't perfect either...

Heath's ex Martina had been busy after their divorce. And during the marriage, if Paige had understood correctly. During the time Paige had known her, Martina had introduced several more or less serious partners.   The current one was young model Andy who wasn't the brightest crayon in the box but had a heart of gold. Even though they had known for only a short while, Martina and Andy's relationship seemed more stable than the others. It had potential for a long-term relationship while it didn't feel shared mortgage level serious.

Paige wondered where her and Heath's relationship was heading. She wanted something serious eventually, get married, maybe a kid or two… She just wasn't a hundred percent sure if Heath was the one. He was a good partner and all but he was… experienced. He had almost completed his family life cycle and Paige hadn't even started. His daughter was almost an adult already, would he want to start over with a baby anymore? And even if he wanted, wouldn't it be weird?   They hadn't deeply discussed their future plans yet but Paige knew it was something they should discuss. She just felt very uneasy about it.

Notes: I'm thinking of sharing that magazine pose accessory I made for this chapter. But it only has that one swatch! Anyone interested in making some more?

This time I post the chapter in larger chunks. Easier for me but is it better or worse for you? Or indifferent? Should I hide part of the post under the cut? Let me know what you think :)

#ts4 #the sims 4 #something about us by someone elsa #sau chapters #ts4 storytelling #sau chapter 41 #sau sims story #sims story #simblr #ts4 simblr #ts4 story #sims 4 story

[applesontheground]

holy grail 🍎

ta-da, here is the sequel to my doc halloran drabble from awhile back. i had meant to share it all as one big piece, but timing cut my inspiration short with the first installment. hope you guys enjoy, and let's hope this kickstarts a wave of new inspiration and more posting.

SFW | Word Count: 1,513 | Doc Halloran x GN Reader contains mentor/mentee relationship, weird tension at the stakeout, mild reader injury, leslie vernon guest star appearance 🎼: x ⬅ continued from white whale

“How did you find him?”

You were lost on how to answer because you didn’t even know how it had been managed. Still, you hummed, “I just went to the place where the story was. Again, I’m after the photos, not the guy. My information is all hearsay.”

He didn’t seem interested in that in the face of a stakeout; more so he just wanted to kill the silence, give himself a foot in the door to talk about why he found the guy. “He goes by many names. You know him as…” He trailed off, and before he could give you a cue with another look you finished, “Leslie Vernon.”

“Vernon, that’s right. That fits him perfectly.” He noted, giving another cautious glance out the windshield. Nothing needed to be added, so you merely followed his gaze. You didn’t necessarily feel unsafe being in a car with this man, but you wished there could be a few more open-air meetings before doing it. The square-shaped cabin was putting you practically right beside him, merely following where his eyes went with your own, trying to be unseen in a small space where there were only two people to be observed. At least, so far; he was anticipating this enigma you only knew as Vernon to practically jump out of nowhere, something out of a horror novel, and despite his fanfare you were waning in belief.

“What do you go to school for?” he then asked, pulling you from the window. You replied with the same short breath, “Media studies.” You pointed with a turn of your head to the tripod in the backseat, “Videography in specific, if you couldn’t tell.” He nodded briskly and commented, “You have an eye for good areas to get your footage, that much is true.”

After a halfhearted falter at the comment, you then scrambled for the camera sitting in the back seat. “Seriously, if you want the shots, I got some of him emptying some sort of trap…” He almost jumped as you lunged for the camera sitting with the rest of the equipment in the back seat, a luxury he had offered up when he invited you. You speculated aloud, powering on the device and flipping through the camera roll, ignoring the tense crick in his jaw, “I thought it was just for some animals, but it’s…that’s a human hand, isn’t it?”

He leaned over, coat brushing up against your shoulder and neck craned so you were nearly grazing a scratchy cheekbone as you pointed at the tiny LCD screen. He bit back a cringe, adjusting slightly in his seat to stare for a moment longer. Suddenly, he sat back again, and gave only a half impressed sigh.

“I’m not after footage, I need the man.”

You furrowed your brow, too confused by intention to reply. It made the box you were in stuffier, so you opted to stare out the window again and bar the collapsed tripod on your lap. This was dawning on you to be the opposite of what you were set out to find, and you didn’t care if you were technically being a help to him despite that.

You wouldn’t go near the guy if you saw him, apparition or flesh and bone person.

A speeding car down another street caught his attention, pulling his rigid eyes elsewhere, and you kept your own ahead. It wasn’t a night for people to be out, rather brisk in the air with your own breath fogging the windows as you turned to look out the side of the cabin. With your backs nearly touching, you then found yourself face to face with a figure in the tree line beside the road, hollow eyes of a blank face watching your movement all the same. Something straight out of the frames you had shot last night.

Choking, you jumped a bit on your haunches from where you had been sitting in the car, adjusting almost uncomfortably for the space that a car cabin allowed. You hissed the first word on your mind when your throat opened just enough, the last on your tongue that meant anything.

“Vernon-!”

Your partner turned just as there was commotion from where you had spotted the figure, a rush of tree limbs and he was gone again. You stared helplessly as you then grabbed tight to the door handle. “C-could’ve been…Could’ve been a weirdo, not our guy. I jumped the gun-“You quickly justified to both yourself and to him. His eyes snapped forward, and you merely followed in the short second of reprieve before seeing the man again.

“No.” He denied your peace of mind, making your stomach sink further, “That’s him, the dirty bastard.”

A rock descended from a sturdy tree branch that was hung slightly over the car, crushing the windshield in a flash of noise and light from a streetlamp now being able to make its way inside, touching your face along with a flurry of bright flashes. A scream in your throat rushed to your mouth, past your teeth in a rush of hot air. The rubber stops on the end of the tripods’ legs went smashing into the window on your other side, more a reflex than on purpose.

Flinging to the side, the car creaked open as you sputtered onto the pavement, looking at the figure still watching your movement. He tilted his head, a shudder of a heave all the warning you got before bolting towards you in an almost casual jog. You quickly reeled back, whooping out a warning that sounded close enough to “Hey, hey, man-“

His eyes, alive and utterly human even with the whirlwind of almost ghostly movement, boggled at you. His voice wasn’t any darker, almost gawking at you as he held his arms out, blocking any room around him to escape past him. Shuffling back and forth, you then heard the observation, also in a strange aura of casualty as his run had been.

“Look at this, the Doc got himself a gumshoe.”

Your eyes widened, somehow even bigger than before. No way, no fucking way. If there was more time, you’d be trying to explain yourself. Instead, the tripod went horizontal in your arms and pushed straight into his chest. Camera now slinging back and forth around your neck, you lost the bulky metal and started to run in the opposite direction instead.

No thought to it, no special attention towards whether he was following you or not. What would be special was an urban legend rushing after you. No one in class would believe you, a thought for a situation long down the road only faltered you for a split second before you hopped over a low fence, an awkward hurdle with one leg nearly getting caught on the way over and sending the entire getaway to the gravel you had stumbled out onto.

A gunshot finally made you flinch, your arm butting against your face and sending you off the road. You fell to the ground, the natural instinct to hide in the brush as you curled up tight into yourself.

Silence followed, and you felt the tender skin around your face where your arm had bumped into it, burning with heat from the fast moving alongside the red hot fear gripping your throat even now. Daring to lean back, you fell to your side, hissing a curse as you tried to inch back again. You only saw the older man, your cabin buddy staring down the road with a smoking gun in his hand and a glower on his face where Vernon had once stood.

“Where did he go?” Your jaw fell open in a dumb utterance of the question, a million thoughts trying to come through but only standing in the way as he locked eyes with you. He saw the mark on your face, and immediately answered you with another one.

“Did he hit you?”

“…No, no!” You gasped, “I-I hit myself, like-“ You quickly mimicked how you fell, knocking your jaw into your shoulder in a tender pantomime, and for some reason the look in his eye made you want to assure him. “He didn’t lay a hand on me, really.” He looked you over, almost regrettably as you achingly hinged your hip to stretch a forming knot, a festering bruise. Finally, he grit his teeth, staring down the desolate road that head back to rural area, the Vernon estate in specific.

“Come to see that, the footage will be something we can work with for now.” He declared, turning his heavy stare back to you as he kneeled down to pick up your tripod. “Let’s get ourselves away from here.”

You followed the direction of his lead, a hand under your shoulder as you walked out of the bushes and back towards the damaged car, his cellphone already buzzing with roadside assistance and him muttering about the cops next.

Still, you gave one more glance out into the side of the road, gripping the camera reunited with its mighty weapon.

#doc halloran x reader #final divorced man x reader #(still not sitting right to call this guy a final boy lol) #✏️ #🍎

[nygleskas]

while lurking on old s.cn blogs i saw someone point out that greg has melatonin gummies so he has some issues going to sleep/staying asleep . umm methinks whenever we sleep together/share a bed, he has a easier time falling asleep (even b4 we started dating, like just spending the night at one another's place + sleeping in the same bed would help him. ⬅ related ish we absolutely would stay up just talking n laughing abt random stuff. i'm absolutelyyy asking him at 2am if pigeons have feelings [unlike the meme he would be niceys and answer genuinely]) . and methinks sometimes when we're apart and he rly struggles with sleeping he takes some and we text/call and just talk until it kicks in yk ⬅ often we stay on the phone while sleeping and have a 8 hour call lol

#.txt #excuse me while i post cringe . i'm unwell. and it makes me feel a bit better #lore tag #greg #i should. sleep. hm

[twsted-princess]

💌➡ Tenera Baliin (I just love them rn)

⬅✋🏻 Louis Melanie

🍓➡ Carol any of the poly

Can do bestie!!

Inner peace. Focus on your breathing, allow the world to become still. Listen to your heart, your breath. Be at peace. Inner peace.

"Oi."

Inner peace

"Kuyaaaaaa"

Inner peace

"I know you can hear me."

Inner peace

"I'm gonna knock over your stuff if you keep ignoring me."

Pagkala smirked when his brother let out a heavy sigh and look over his shoulder, his face firmly displeased. "Must you always be a pain in the ass?" The bestiore shook his head as he plucked a book that he was just going to throw on the floor before and skimmed through completely uninterested in reading. "And this is how you treat the mailman?" Baliin remained seated on the floor as his brows furrowed. "What do you want?" He then saw his brother dangle a bag. It was a deep violet with a cat displayed on the front. "Your little kitty's shadows got you something." Purple eyes rolled as Kala dropped the present onto his lap. "You should tell her to make me something, only natural for the in-laws to get a gift too." Baliin heard them leave as he shouted back "Only when you stop antagonizing the leader." He knew Kala was throwing the middle finger at him but he ignored them, they were already gone and probably off to bother his boyfriend again. Tugging open the bag he dug through before pulling out a smaller bag. This was clear, tied with a red ribbon and stuffed with seemingly cookies packed with oats and brightly colored chocolates. He then checked again and pulled out a card. A smile soon spread across his face as he opened the treats and popped one into his mouth as he read. The taste of peanut butter smoothed over his palette as Tenera's words were addressed with love. "Thank you. For making me feel stronger, safer, and loved beyond belief. You've made my world a little more brighter and I want to share the light with you, always yours."

#my work #twst oc's #twisted wonderland

[empresskylo]

beneath the mask ✩ chapter 12 ⬅ch.11

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠CHAPTER TAGS | wc 3.5k ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | i am sooooooooo sorry if this seems ooc for ghost. i wanted to write him acting more empathetic while also maintaining his cold demeanor. i think some people tend to write him one way or the other and so i tried to balance it a bit more to be realistic. but if this felt ooc for ghost im so sorry!! feedback is appreciated so i can improve upcoming chapters! &lt;3

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

the startling realization that you were sleeping in simon’s room is what woke you up that following morning. you sat up in his bed, the covers falling away from your chest, and you noticed he was gone. it was strange how this was the second time you shared a bed—completely platonically—with him and he was m.i.a. come morning.

you tried not to think too deeply about it, not wanting to get your feelings hurt even more than they already were. you were able to put what had happened between the two of you in the back of your mind yesterday, squishing down his words that hurt you so badly. 

you looked good in your dress. that’s all. m’sorry.

but that was yesterday. that was when he was the first face you saw after thinking you were about to be tortured. the face that rescued you. that was when he carried you back to base, his arms around you like a safety blanket. when he was the sense of security you desperately needed. when you felt like you needed him. 

this morning, your mind was far clearer. you even realized how stupid you were to let simon be that person for you when johnny was right there. 

you scurried from his room, still draped in his shirt, and made it back to your own. you told yourself you would visit the infirmary today, not for work, but to get yourself checked out. you weren’t hurt too badly, nothing that couldn’t heal with a little time. but still, you should really get checked over. and you were sure laswell or price would want to have a word with you about everything that happened. 

before you even managed to shift through your thoughts, johnny was at your door.

“how’re ya feelin’?” 

you grabbed your toiletries bag and spun to face to scot. “i’m okay.”

he gave you a once over. “are you sure?” he said a bit softer.

you gave him a gentle smile. “don’t worry, i’m just going to shower. then straight to the infirmary to get checked out.” you gave him a mock salute. 

johnny shook his head as he followed you out your door and down the hall towards the showers. “no, not that.” you glanced at him. “well, no, of course i wanted to make sure you were gonna be seen by a medic, but i was referring to the… psychological side of things.”

you laughed at his phrasing. “i’ll be okay, johnny. seriously. i mean, i know what happened terrified me and hasn’t left my thoughts since, but i could be a lot worse.” you were trying to make light of the situation. and while johnny understood that all too well, he still wasn’t convinced you were truly back to normal just a day after your kidnapping. 

you were taken a bit back. for once, soap didn’t seem to appreciate your humor. “and with ghost?” 

you almost dropped your bag, stumbling in your steps. “w-what about him?” 

“i saw him carrying you into base. the way ya clung to him. i just want t’make sure you’re okay.” his eyes trailed the shirt you were wearing—'swimming in' was more accurate—knowing it wasn't yours, but ghost's.

you sighed before spinning to face him. you wanted to make this very clear to soap: “he was the first person i saw. he was the one i saw close on my tail when i was trapped in that truck. he was the face who barged into that room after slaughtering men, pulling me out of that hole. i think i was just overwhelmed and felt like i needed him . y’know… a safety thing. but that has passed. i’m fine. fine .” soap raised a brow, not quite believing you. “nothing happened,” you said a bit bashful, noticing the way soap was staring at you like he thought more had gone down last night, and wearing ghost's shirt sure wasn't helping. “he just kept me company so i could fall asleep without thinking about…” your words trailed off. “point is, i appreciate you looking out for me, but i’m okay. i won’t let him…” a beat of silence passed as you looked for the words. “i won’t read things wrong again.” the sentence was a struggle to get out; like ash on your tongue.

you could see the concern on johnny’s face, so before he could protest and pry more, you slipped into the women’s showers so he couldn’t follow.

after showering and visiting the infirmary—-yes, you have been cleared—-you were making your way to price’s office. you assumed laswell would be there as well. 

you adjusted your black shirt as you strolled the halls, careful to not move in any way that would hurt your sore ribs. you walked past the gym, peeking in to see if you could spot gaz, surprised he hadn’t come to see you yet, and you almost choked on your spit.

you spotted simon—- ghost—- across the room in workout gear, addressing a new recruit. you hadn’t recognized her but you knew there were new recruits coming in this week so you assumed her to be one of them. 

you tried to pull your eyes away, but they were latched on to the tall brute and the shorter woman beside him. ghost hunched over slightly as he spoke to her and you saw her smile. her hand reached out and touched his arm softly and you felt your fists clench. 

ghost wasn’t yours . 

he was barely even your friend. he could flirt with whoever he wanted. it shouldn’t matter to you. and you knew you were overreacting. who's to say they were flirting? you hadn’t known ghost to be the best charmer, so why would he all of a sudden be cozying up to a woman he only just met?

soap’s words popped into your head: come to think of it. i don’t think i’ve known ghost to have hooked up with anyone since i’ve met the bastard.

all these rational thoughts and yet you ignored them. all you felt was a pang in your gut as you watched him instruct her, testing her skills, his hand lingering on her hip a bit too long. his eyes locked on hers. 

you didn’t feel any tears welling—so that was an improvement—all you felt was disappointment. ghost was emotionally unavailable. he also explicitly said he didn’t want you. this fantasy you had of him in your head was purely that: a fantasy. 

you had thought maybe he felt differently with the way his eyes traced your curves last night in the light of the bathroom. that maybe him letting you see him with his mask off was him letting you in. that he wanted to form some sort of relationship with you even if it was foreign to him.

but all of those thoughts went out the door. there were so many reasons why it would never work between the two of you. seeing him with that woman wasn’t what made you feel that way. all it did was remind you of the reality of your situation.

you sulked into price’s office, the smell of cigars filling your nose.

price’s warm greeting, his gentle smile, and his all-over fatherly presence set you back at ease. 

when laswell entered, her soothing hand on your shoulder reminded you that you could live so fucking easily without ghost. you had a family here. and while you had hoped to let ghost become one of those people to you, it wasn’t the end of the world by any means if he didn’t.

a week had passed and you had resorted to pretending like anything private that ever happened between you and ghost had never occurred. you weren’t going to sulk over him any longer. you thought he was attractive. that was it. you hooked up once and it didn’t work out. you were an adult, you could move on. 

you laughed animatedly at soap, grabbing his arm in your fit. ghost spotted you across the training room, your laughter floating over into his space, pissing him off.

he expected you to have wanted to talk to him after that night in his room. but you never did. you never sought him out. never came by to let him know everything at the infirmary checked out okay. granted, he never came after you either. 

he got up when he saw you leaving and followed you out the door. 

“iaso,” he called.

you stopped and spun to face him, smiling. “what’s up, lt.?” 

ghost was a bit taken aback by your friendly demeanor. not that you weren’t a friendly person, but you were acting oddly like nothing ever happened. like ghost hadn’t pulled you into his arms a week ago, his chest pounding and his arms shaking as he held you.

“jus’ wanted to see if you were okay,” he said dumbly.

“all good. don’t worry, i’ve been cleared to be back to work.” you smiled then turned and walked away.

ghost had never been left so dumbfounded before. he cracked his knuckles in annoyance.

you seemed to be ignoring him. 

whenever ghost entered a room you were in, you’d leave. he saw you linking arms with soap as you walked the halls, never meeting ghost’s eyes. he knew soap was visiting you in the infirmary on your breaks and he always seemed awkward when it came up between them. you even managed to get out of a poker session where ghost was present. you had stood up the second he walked into that room, calling it a night and tossing your cards in the middle of the table.

“she’s ignoring me,” ghost huffed as he shuffled through the dossiers on his desk. he was acting like he had any claim over you. like he had a right to your friendship.

“who?” soap asked. ghost looked up and glared at his friend. “i think you give yourself too much credit. she’s not ignoring you, lt. she’s just accepted your rejection and moved on with her life.”

“i didn’t reject her.”

soap rolled his eyes. “you really wanna go down that road?” 

ghost mumbled in annoyance as he stared at the words on the paper before him. 

“didn’t think you’d care, if i’m being honest.”

ghost glared at soap, waiting for him to elaborate since he clearly wanted to further this conversation.

“ her opinion of you ,” soap clarified. “you made it pretty clear you wanted nothing from her, so i just assumed that meant you wouldn’t be bothered by her ignoring you n’all.” 

ghost tapped his pen on his desk. “so she is ignoring me, then.”

“i didn’t say that.”

ghost knew he couldn’t fight logistics with soap, with soap being… soap and all. “we have actual shit t’go over. important intel before we depart friday.” 

soap slipped into the chair in front of ghost’s desk. “you started it.” 

“i didn’t—- bloody hell ,” he grumbled rubbing his hand over his face. soap tried to hold back his smirk. 

“y’know she’s coming with us,” soap said, referencing the mission soon to happen in the coming days based on the information the men had acquired from valeria. 

“well aware,” ghost said flatly. 

the idea of you being forced to be in ghost’s proximity tomorrow, knowing you couldn’t avoid it like you had been, made his chest swell slightly. he didn’t want to admit this to himself, but he wanted you to want him. desperately . and hearing soap talk about you, always seeing the two of you together, ghost felt like he was pushing you straight into his friend’s arms. 

he should have been okay with that. whether he found you attractive or not, he shouldn’t have felt jealous when he saw you with soap. he’s found plenty of women attractive, and plenty of them were involved with someone else. that usually didn’t bother ghost at all. he was fine admiring pretty ladies knowing they would never be his. he didn’t want them to be his. so this resentment he was feeling towards soap was new to him. 

he unclenched his fist. 

“jus’ wanna make sure you’re gonna behave yourself,” soap chimed. 

“christ, johnny. i’m not—”

soap cut him off. “i’m serious, lt. i know i don’t have this kind of authority, but she doesn’t deserve whatever it is that's going on inside your twisted head.” soap gestured widely at ghost, implying he was all sorts of messed up. “i’d die protecting her. and if it means i’d have to die in your clutches, then so be it.”

ghost refrained from rolling his eyes and soap’s dramatics. though, he did admire soap’s loyalty. 

shifting the conversation away from you, ghost debriefed soap on prep for the coming mission, letting him know— almost —everything planned. 

it was late when ghost spotted you. you didn’t see him as he stalked you around the bend of the hallway.

finally, you were alone. not linking arms with soap or laughing with gaz. you were alone as you walked through the halls of the barracks. if you had known ghost would have spotted you, you would have likely stayed in your room. but you had no idea the masked man was trailing behind you. 

ghost hadn't been planning on talking to you, irate by the way you’ve been ignoring him, but when he saw you, his feet moved on their own accord. the hall lights flickered, creating an ominous glow. he surmised you were heading back to the infirmary even though he knew your shift was already over. maybe you forgot something?

and then one of ghost’s steps was a tad too loud because you looked over your shoulder and he watched as your eyes widened momentarily. you scrunched up your nose and faced forward, your pace increasing. “are you following me?”

“this is my quarters jus’ as much as it is yours,” he grunted. 

you rolled your eyes. “well… it's plenty big enough. you could always go a different way.”

“still not talkin’ to me, then?”

you could sense him catching up and it made the hackles on your neck rise. “what’re you—”

“i know you’ve been ignoring me. don’t try t’lie your way outta this.”

you turned around and began to walk backward so you could face him when you spoke. “i’m not really in the mood to have this conversation right now.” you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“well, good thing i wasn’t askin’.”

your mouth parted in surprise at his bluntness. you quickly spun on your heels, not wanting the emotions you had been shoving down for the past week to come back up. if you could just avoid him a little longer, you’d be able to move on. if he would only just—

in your nerves, you reached a dead end of one of the many barren halls. you were going to turn and scurry past him, not even wanting to grab your bag you left in the infirmary any longer, you just wanted to get away from him. but before you had the chance, ghost’s arms were on either side of your head, hands flat against the wall, caging you into his chest. your back was to him and your only view was the blank drywall. the corner he had you trapped in was dark and you figured even if you did spin to face the beast behind you, you wouldn’t be able to make much of him out. you hated that a swirl of arousal filled your stomach remembering him being this close to you in that tiny closet he shoved the two of you into all those weeks ago. 

“ghost, i don’t wanna—”

“ simon ,” he said a little aggressively. 

you gulped, his words grazing the edge of your neck as he spoke. you were quiet as you waited for him to say more. “you sure you’re ready to go back out on location?” he asked, referring to the upcoming mission you were going to be a part of. 

“is that it? you’re worried i’m broken or some shit like that?” your words screamed irritation, but your voice sounded more hurt than angry. “that i don’t know my own limits and can’t decide when i’m good to be back? that i’ll slow you down? i told you i was cleared!” you knew you were inferring a lot from his one little sentence, but you wanted to be mad. to be angry at him. 

“i didn’t say that.”

“no. but it’s what you meant.”

you heard ghost sigh and his hands dropped down to his side. you felt the warmth of his chest still behind you so you didn’t dare move to look at him.

“i know what it’s like t’lose everyone you love,” he started. 

“what does that have to do with any—-?”

“would you jus’ shut up for one second n’ listen for once?” 

you swallowed hard and nodded your head. he let out a breath. he knew he had snapped at you, but this was difficult for him. he wanted to get this out before he second-guessed himself and let you walk away forever. 

“i lost my entire family to men a lot more evil than me. did everythin’ in my power to get revenge. so i know what it’s like to love and t’lose.”

“did it help?” you asked softly. “revenge?”

you could hear the tension in ghost’s words as he mumbled them behind you. the only reason he was able to answer this question was due to the fact that you were turned away from him. if you two had been looking into each other’s eyes… he didn’t think he’d have to ability to open up. “depends how ya look at it. that kind’a dedication to death—never stoppin’ till you feel blood on your hands—takes a toll on ya. i think it’s what made me so… unbearable. but the general doesn’t seem t’think so. made me a stronger soldier in shepherd’s eyes.”

you felt your breath waver as you listened. 

“i wouldn’t have jus’ killed for them, i woulda died. it was years ago now that i was captured on duty. was tortured. buried alive. locked up. abused.” simon cleared his throat. “think it made me unwillin’ to let people in , as you would word it. i don’t know if i could survive another loss like that, like when i lost my mother and brother. s’not a feelin’ i ever plan on livin’ through again.”

“simon…”

“and you, ” he said a bit more potently. “you have been messin’ everythin’ up. when you n’ laswell were taken… it felt like when i saw my brother and his wife dead on their living room floor. the only thing i saw was red. i woulda done anything t’get you back. i couldn’t let this happen again. i couldn’t fail the people i cared about again.”

it pained you to know that simon placed all the blame on anything bad happening to those around him on himself. “laswell, too?” you said, but more as a question. you were purposefully trying to avoid the romantic ideation behind his words.

“no,” he said immediately, without a second thought. “course i wanted her back. but it didn’t feel the same as the way i wanted you.”

i wanted you . those words made your chest tighten. 

“why are you telling me all this?” you finally asked after a lull. 

“i jus’ wanted you t’know that i don’t mean t’hurt you. that maybe i needa try harder. and that… i’m sorry.”

you felt a single tear escape and slide down your cheek. you took a moment to steady your breathing, trying to reel in all of simon’s words.

when you spun to face him, unsure of what you’d find in his expression, you gasped. he was gone. you didn’t even hear him as he took off down the hall with your back still to him. 

eventually, walking alone back to your room, you let the tears fall freely. you cried for simon’s past. for his losses. for your own losses. for the strange sense of love you felt radiating off of him as he told you he’d move the world just to get you back safely. for the stupid feelings you had brewing in your chest. for the way you couldn’t decide if you wanted him to wrap his arms around you or if you wanted to hold him as he told you more. 

simon felt like he couldn’t let someone else in. that he wouldn’t survive it. but you wouldn’t leave him if he did. and you needed to tell him that. you needed to show him that he might be a bit broken, lost from his path, but you’d help him find the light again, as cheesy as that sounded. you would show him how beautiful it was to love even after losing so much. that it was possible. he deserved to be loved. he deserved to be happy. he wasn’t some emotionless robot, no matter what the army thought of him. and you wanted to help him realize that. 

chapter 13 ➡

#ghost #simon riley #smut #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod #ghost fanfic #simon riley fanfic #ghost call of duty #ghost angst #cod mw2 #cod fic #call of duty fanfic #mw2 fanfic #beneath the mask

[comradecorvus]

This was too funny to not share

⬅↙⬇↘➡⬅ + P

-Grappelations 1:15

#guilty gear #guilty gear strive #ggst #potemkin #guilty gear potemkin

[saiacross]

Bonds Unveiled

Supernatural FanFic : 9,889 Words : Series: Reader-Insert

Chapter 23: A Day of Truths

This Work is part of an overarching story that can be read as a one-shot with little overlapping information from other chapters.

⬅ Chapter 22: Bonds Forged 💜 Bonus Chapter 4: Bonding ➡ Master List

Sam, Dean, and Y/N are all affected by a witch's hex that gives them each an ability corresponding to that of a sister of the witch from the past. All while they navigate the new boundaries of their relationship, AND stop Y/N from becoming a demon.

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

A month had passed since the trio of hunters officially began their unique relationship, a secret they intended to keep amongst themselves. Much of their day-to-day life remained unchanged in terms of work, but when they had their precious downtime, everything was different.

Small but profound gestures of affection became part of their daily existence. Hands were held, kisses were shared, and gazes lingered just a little longer. Despite the chaos of their world, it felt like a haven when they were together.

Sam's approach to affection was unabashedly public. He didn't hesitate to sit a little closer to Y/N or wrap his arm around her shoulders whenever they could. It was his way of proclaiming their connection to the world.

Dean, on the other hand, was more subtle in public. He expressed his love in understated ways – a hand on Y/N's knee beneath the table, ensuring her food was perfect when ordered, and gallantly opening doors for her.

Y/N reciprocated their love in equal measure – a gentle kiss on Dean's cheek at a diner despite knowing he would brush it off, a deliberate brush against Sam's hand when they posed as FBI agents, and the way she always made sure they enjoyed the show when she knew they were watching.

Over time, their day-to-day life with two boyfriends became the new normal. It didn't take long for this unconventional relationship to become their standard, a world where love and affection coexisted with their demon-hunting duties.

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"Ne videas malum, ne audias malum, ne loquatur malum;

"See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil,

In imis umbra haec vera detego.

In the shadow's depths, these truths I reveal.

Vera loquetur, secreta soluto;

One shall speak the truth, secrets to unbind,

dum ceteri mystice, penitus innexa.”

While the others in mystery, deeply entwined."

 -

The witch the trio had been chasing chanted a series of Latin words, her sinister grin growing wider as Dean finally managed to kick down the door that blocked their path. Sam, Dean, and Y/N stormed into the room, determination etched across their faces. Their mission was clear: to stop the witch who had manipulated people into taking their own lives.

But it was too late to thwart her final move. With a wicked grin, the witch threw her last ingredient into the metal basin before her. A shockwave erupted from the basin, sending them hurtling back into the walls, bookshelves, and tables.

Amidst the chaos, as the room erupted into a whirlwind of crashing bodies and shattered furniture, the witch seized the opportunity to make her escape out the window. Dean, Sam, and Y/N were sent flying in different directions, their bodies colliding with violence that matched the storm raging around them.

Dean was the first to regain his footing, his determination unwavering. He hurled himself towards the window where the witch was attempting her getaway.

“No, you don't!” Dean yelled as he followed her.

“DEAN!” Sam's voice followed him, an urgent plea stemming from concern. He remembered all too well that they were on the second floor. But Dean's chase was relentless, ignoring the dangers that awaited outside.

Then, Y/N's voice pierced the frantic air, filled with confidence and determination.

“I've got him!” With the agility of her Kitsune nature, Y/N raised herself from the ground and, with a graceful bound, followed Dean out the window. Her landing was silent and graceful, a testament to her supernatural grace. She swiftly surveyed her surroundings, scanning for any sign of Dean or the escaping witch.

It was the unmistakable report of a gunshot that split the air, followed by a blood-curdling scream, that directed Y/N to the side of the house. There, she found Dean, standing resolute with his pistol in hand, while the witch lay lifeless at his feet.

Y/N's voice, filled with concern, rang out as she approached Dean, her footsteps halting as she slid to a stop by his side, positioning herself protectively in front of him. Her eyes scanned him for any signs of injury as she urgently inquired, “Are you alright?”

Dean, ever the stoic hunter, responded with a casual shrug, his breath still heavy from the chase. “Yeah, of course. She's just a witch.”

“Dean, you jumped out of a second-story window!” Y/N, incredulous and amazed, gazed at Dean, her eyes reflecting her astonishment.

“Oh, that. Yeah, I might have landed wrong, actually.” Dean's nonchalant attitude persisted as he waved off the daring stunt. With a subtle shift of his weight and a hand pressed to his hip, Dean downplayed his daring feat.

Meanwhile, Sam rounded the corner at a sprint, his concern evident as he slowed upon seeing the witch sprawled lifeless on the ground. His eyes darted rapidly between Dean, Y/N, and the vanquished witch as he inquired, ”You guys alright”

Sam's gaze held a mix of relief and inquiry, aware that in the life they led, even the smallest skirmish could turn into a fight for survival.

“He landed wrong.” Y/N, with an exasperated eye-roll directed at Dean, turned her attention to Sam, her voice carrying a hint of mock disapproval. Her tone dripped with sarcasm, making it clear she was not thrilled with Dean's impulsive decision to leap from the second-story window.

“What?” Sam's face contorted in confusion as he gazed at Dean, perplexed by this cryptic exchange. He had no clue what was transpiring.

Dean, realizing the conversation was going off course, tried to redirect their focus to the task at hand. Listen let’s just move the witch's body inside the house for tonight, and we’ll come back in the morning to deal with all this.”

Sam's skepticism was evident as he glanced at Dean, wondering if his brother was avoiding a topic, but agreed. He then shifted his attention to Y/N, who seemed lost in her own world.

Concerned, Sam called her name, gently placing a hand on her shoulder to snap her back to reality. He asked if she was alright. Y/N appeared momentarily disoriented, confusion clouding her features as she slowly comprehended Sam's question. She instinctively reached up to rub her temple, “Sorry.. I umm..” She couldn’t really get the words out.

“Hey you’re fine, how about you go sit in the car while we finish up here, alright?” Sam continued to rub soothing circles on her back. Y/N agreed with a nod and headed for the Impala.

Once she was out of earshot, Dean approached Sam, a furrow in his brow, “Everything alright?”

Sam's shoulders lifted in a shrug, his expression mirroring the uncertainty he felt, “Something just seems off about her.”

Dean gave Sam a reassuring pat on the back as he passed by, his voice carrying a sense of understanding and fatigue.

Dean: It's been a long night, Sammy. She might just be hungry. We'll swing by and get some food on the way back. So help me with this.

Sam, eager to wrap up the night's events, nodded in agreement and crouched down to lift the witch's legs, ready to assist Dean in moving the lifeless body.

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Dean, Y/N, and Sam had found their way to a local bar and grill, with Dean's choice winning out thanks to a previous bet with Sam during the ride. As they settled at a table, Y/N and Sam taking their seats, Dean insisted on taking charge of their drink orders and placing their food orders.

Y/N observed Dean closely, her eyes narrowed with curiosity. She couldn't fathom why he still engaged in these little charades. Did he not realize she could see him?

Sam, leaning casually against Y/N and with an arm draped over the back of her chair, was engrossed in his laptop. His thumb gently stroked her shoulder as he whispered, more to himself than to Y/N, "I swear I've heard that spell before, like a nursery rhyme or something." When Y/N didn't respond, Sam looked up and followed her gaze to Dean, who was busy flirting with the bartender.

Fully aware of Y/N's growing irritation, Sam straightened up in his chair, trying to find the right words. Y/N's restrained anger seeped through her as she asked, "Is he stupid?"

Sam, mentally agreeing with her sentiment, cleared his throat and tried to ease the situation, saying, "Don't let it get to you. You know Dean, he's just being... Dean."

Dean, turning from the bar with three drinks in hand, approached them with a grin. Oblivious to the daggers Y/N's eyes were sending his way. Y/N rolled her eyes, her frustration palpable, and rose from her seat as she said, "Yeah, well, Dean is only 'Dean' when there are other pretty girls around. I'm going to the bathroom."

She gave Sam a kiss on the cheek and headed for the bathroom, pointedly ignoring Dean as she left the table. Sam watched her depart with a pained expression, knowing he'd have to navigate the tension between his brother and the woman he cared about.

Dean noticed the frosty reception he received from Y/N as they passed by each other. Dean set the drinks down on the table, and Sam couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at his brother's ceaselessness. Dean, ever the charmer, leaned toward Sam and asked, "What's with her?"

Sam gave Dean a skeptical look before he countered, "Dude, really?"

Dean appeared genuinely puzzled. "What?"

Sam rolled his eyes and gestured toward the bar, saying, "When are you going to stop fooling around? You have a girlfriend now, you know. You think she likes watching you flirt with every girl who crosses our path?"

Sinking into his chair, Dean tried to defend himself. "It's not like I got her number or anything; I was just being nice."

But Sam knew his brother's habits and remained unconvinced. He said, "Dean, stop. You agreed to this, so get serious; otherwise, say the word, and you'll be off the hook. But stop messing around; you may not see what it does to her, but I do."

Dean took a deep swig from his beer, placed the bottle back on the table, and nodded. "Fine. You're right."

Sam was relieved to hear Dean acknowledge the issue, but then his brother made a surprising confession. Dean said, "Just for the record, she did offer me her number, but I didn't take it, alright."

Sam, despite his earlier frustration with Dean's behavior, raised an eyebrow in surprise and confusion. "Really? YOU turned HER down?"

Dean nodded and elaborated, "Something weird about her. Like what she was saying wasn't matching the vibe she was giving off. It was creepy, man."

In that instant, Sam was once again disappointed in his brother.

Y/N returned to the table, taking her seat between Sam and Dean. With a wistful expression, Dean couldn't help himself but reach out and rest his hand on her knee, a comforting habit that always made her smile. Her initial anger was starting to ebb, although she knew Dean needed to understand that he couldn't keep flirting with every woman he encountered. In an attempt to break the tension, she glanced at Sam's laptop and asked, "Find anything?"

Sam, acknowledging her attempt to move on, raised his eyebrows and continued scrolling through web searches.

Suddenly, an unexpected interruption occurred as a tall, lanky guy approached their table. He slid himself between Y/N and Dean, causing Dean to withdraw his hand quickly. The man faced Y/N and leaned against the table, a slow, seductive tone in his voice as he purred, "Hey there..."

What Dean heard was; “It must be my lucky night.”

Dean looked up at the man as though he were about to stomp his knee in.

Y/N's stern voice was swift in defusing the situation. She didn't even look at the man as she said, "Boyfriend A, Boyfriend B. So, Fuck off." She pointed to Sam as A and Dean as B without a hint of hesitation.

Dean was somewhat taken aback by his assigned position, but before he could voice his objection, Y/N simply stated, "You know what you did," and took a drink of her beer.

The man chuckled and leaned in closer, growling suggestively, "Two boyfriends, huh? Got room for one more, sweet cheeks?"

What Dean heard was: “Fuck these losers. I’ll pound that-”

“Hey!” Dean angrily cut the man off before her could finish, though his outburst earned him an odd glance from the man.

Sam's irritation flared, and it appeared as though he was about to take matters into his own hands, but Y/N finally turned to the guy, her expression deadly serious, and asked, “Why the fuck would I give you even a second thought after you just got done fucking the bartender in the bathroom?”

The man's face dropped in disbelief, and he promptly stood up.

Y/N looked the man up and down before offering, “I suggest you get tested by the way.”

With that, the man retreated in humiliation. Y/N watched him intently as he left, her point well made. She took another swig of her beer, a satisfied smirk on her lips.

Dean, trying to hide his curiosity and surprise, asked, "How did you know all that?"

Y/N turned to Dean and replied without missing a beat, "I could smell it."

Dean's eyebrows raised in disbelief and confusion. He clarified, "You mean you can smell when we've... um, you know, done it?"

Y/N nodded and responded matter-of-factly, "Yeah. Even if you shower, the pheromones are still strong."

Sam couldn't help but laugh at Dean's realization, and the tension at the table seemed to ease, albeit slightly.

As though God himself were testing Y/N, the bartender arrived with their food, wearing a charming smile and using an alluring voice as she took her time bending over more than necessary to plate their meals.

Her flirtatious comments were aimed at Dean as she said, “Hey there, guess this is your brother, huh?”

What Dean heard was: “Damn, he’s huge. Bet I could take it.”

She went even further, reaching across the table to Y/N, causing Sam and Dean to avert their eyes as Y/N locked a steely gaze onto the woman. The trio knew exactly what the bartender was trying to do.

Just as she was about to depart, she ran her hand provocatively over Dean's shoulder and said, 'Call me if you need anything.' Sam's face twisted into a disgusted expression, while Dean appeared deep in thought, attempting to decipher the bartender's intentions.

What Dean heard was: “That bitch will regret it if she keeps staring me down.”

Y/N had had enough of these advances. She abruptly stood from her seat and called out, “Hey, Blondie!” The bartender turned around just in time to see Y/N settle herself comfortably in Sam's lap, one leg casually crossed over the other. Sam's hand naturally found its place on her hips as Y/N leaned in, gently tugging Dean forward for a full kiss on the lips.

Breaking the kiss, Y/N eyed the bartender with a mischievous glint in her eyes and said, “We're gonna need some to-go boxes.”

Dean and Sam were left in a state of shock, taken aback by the power play they had just witnessed. It reminded them of the night with the vampires and the werewolves. Y/N could feel Sam shifting beneath her, and Dean seemed lost in a trance, making a mental note of the whole situation.

Y/N couldn't resist a satisfied smirk as she added, “Pack the food up, alright? I'll be waiting in the Impala.” Her authority was undeniable as she confidently strolled away, leaving a bewildered bartender in her wake. Sam and Dean exchanged glances before they settled on watching Y/N walk away as she always did when she knew they were watching.

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The door to their motel room creaked open, and Y/N walked in, bearing a bag of food. Sam and Dean followed her, their voices raised in a bickering match over something trivial. Dean, closing the door behind him, quipped, "Man, I don't know what to tell you. Just get better, I won again, and you have to accept that. Y/N, will you please tell him to stop being a baby about it?"

Y/N, who had already settled herself at the table with her computer open, replied with an air of nonchalance, "Sam if you worked half as much as you whine, we might be done with this job by now. Sam, will you please tell him to stop being a baby about it."

Both Sam and Dean were taken aback, their expressions mirroring shock. Sam, feeling offended by her words, called out, "Hey!"

Dean, on the other hand, remained silent, simply staring at Y/N in disbelief.

However, Y/N herself seemed equally surprised by what she had just said. She stammered a mixture of bewilderment and flustered in her voice, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that... I mean I did, but not that harsh."

Her eyes widened as she grew increasingly flustered, and she continued, "Jesus, Y/N, shut up!"

Sam, still a bit hurt, inquired, "Hey, what's up with you? You've been kind of off since..."

Y/N finished his sentence, "Since the witch disappeared? Have either of you two felt different?"

Dean and Sam paused to think. Eventually, Sam shook his head and said, "No."

What Dean heard was: “Could the shifting I was seeing be part of this?”

Dean looked at Sam, his brows furrowing in confusion, and he asked, "What shifting?"

Sam and Y/N exchanged puzzled glances. Sam replied, "I didn't say anything about shifting."

Dean's glare intensified, and he insisted, "Yeah, you did. Just now. I heard you."

Y/N, looking equally baffled, chimed in as she focused on Dean, "Dean, Sam didn't say anything."

Dean was clearly disturbed, his expression a mix of fear and disbelief. He knew he heard Sam mention "shifting," but why weren't Sam and Y/N confirming it?

Concerned and wanting to understand what had happened, Y/N turned to Sam and inquired hastily, "Sam, what was that spell she was chanting? I think she did something."

For the next few hours, Sam and Y/N immersed themselves in research, Sam wracking his memory for the mysterious spell and both of them scouring books and online sources for information about its origin and purpose. Finally, they found what they were looking for.

Sam's eyes lit up with recognition, and he exclaimed, "That's it! I thought I recognized it."

Sam proceeded to explain, his tone thoughtful and earnest, "So, get this. We were hit with a spell that invokes the powers of three wise and virtuous sisters, each known for their unique and profound abilities. Amanita, Claritas, and Veritas, together they embodied the very essence of truth."

Y/N and Dean exchanged intrigued glances, their curiosity piqued by Sam's words.

Sam continued, his voice resonating with a sense of wonder, "Claritas, the Listener, was the eldest sister, known for her exceptional ability to hear the unspoken truths that whispered in the wind. Her ears were attuned to the nuances of words, silences, and the melodies of the heart. With her deep understanding of language and the unspoken, she could discern when words concealed hidden agendas or resonated with sincerity."

Dean's eyebrows raised as he absorbed the description of Amanita's abilities, while Y/N nodded thoughtfully.

Sam moved on, his voice taking on a measured tone, "Amanita, the Seer, was the second eldest of the sisters and was blessed with the gift of sight. Her eyes sparkled with otherworldly wisdom, allowing her to perceive the truth in every corner of the world. She saw beyond appearances, recognizing the genuine intentions of all she encountered. Her vision was said to pierce through veils of deception and reveal the core of reality."

Y/N's eyes lit up as she contemplated the implications of Claritas' abilities. Dean too looked intrigued.

Sam then spoke of the youngest sister, Veritas, with a sense of admiration, "Veritas, the Speaker, possessed the power to weave words of pure truth. Her voice carried the resonance of authenticity, and her speech was a force for good. She would only speak when she was certain of the honesty behind her words. Her voice had the power to unveil secrets, heal wounds, and unite those who listened with open hearts."

As the descriptions of the three sisters' powers settled in, Y/N and Dean exchanged meaningful glances. The gravity of their situation was evident, and the trio understood the magnitude of dealing with such profound and rare abilities.

Sam's gaze shifted between Y/N and Dean, his eyes filled with intrigue. "Okay, so Claritas, the Listener could hear unspoken truths, right? Well, that sounds like what Dean is experiencing."

Y/N nodded thoughtfully, her eyes locked on Dean.

"I have Amanita's abilities, the Seer. When I look at some people, their faces seem to slowly shift into something else, the last few have all been kind of gross.” Sam’s nose scrunched as he thought back to the bartender and creep from the bar.

Dean looked back to Sam with an annoyed expression, “So how do we undo it?”

Sam who’s attention was now back on his laptop screen shrugged, “Uh well the witch who cast the spell is dead so I think we just wait it out, maybe? But we can check out the house though when we head back in the morning if things haven’t changed.” Sam offered but really didn’t have a solid answer.

“Morning huh?” Dean’s gaze turned back to Y/N with a playful glint in his eyes, and said, "That leaves you with the Speaker, right? Veritas. So, you can't tell a lie, basically, right?"

Y/N's eyes narrowed in response to Dean's playful challenge, her voice holding a hint of defiance as she nodded, "That's right."

Dean's grin grew wider, mischief dancing in his eyes. "Alright, well, let's test it. Who's the better kisser, me or Sam?"

Sam let out an exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes as he warned Dean, "Dean, don't. Y/N, you don't have to answer that."

Dean, undeterred, leaned forward, his voice teasing, "Uh-huh, Sammy, that's not what you really want to say now, is it? You want to know the answer too."

Sam sent a withering glare at his brother but was left speechless. Before he could defend himself, Y/N blurted out her answer, "Sam. Sam is the better kisser."

Dean's victorious grin faded. "Well, I was just messing around, you know."

Sam couldn't help but smirk at Dean's reaction.

 "But, well, you know, you both are so different, so comparing is really unfair," she stammered, her voice tinged with shyness. She hoped her diplomatic response would quell their curiosity.

However, Dean was unyielding, and his eyes sparkled with mischief, sensing victory. He leaned forward, his eyebrow raised in anticipation, and asked, "Alright then. Well, which one of us is better in bed?"

Sam wore a scowl of disapproval, while Dean's expression was laced with his signature cockiness. The room's tension grew, and it seemed they were on the brink of an answer. That's when Y/N, quick-witted and resourceful, turned to the table where the bag of food was, grabbed her burger, and took a huge bite. Her mouth full, she began to mumble something, but her words were entirely incomprehensible to the brothers.

Sam watched with a hint of amusement and surprise, appreciating Y/N's clever tactic. Dean, on the other hand, looked slightly defeated. He had been outsmarted once again by Y/N's unexpected response.

Once Y/N swallowed her food, she wiped her mouth and turned to Dean with a hint of amusement in her eyes. "I'll answer any question you have," she said, her tone firm, "but I'm not going to stand here and compare you two." Her words left no room for further discussion on that particular topic.

The atmosphere in the room grew tense as Y/N remained resolute in her choice to answer Dean's question. She stood her ground, her confidence a stark contrast to Dean's dripping arrogance.

Dean, a step closer to Y/N now, accepted her offer with a hint of smugness. "Fine," he retorted, his voice oozing with overconfidence as if he were about to outsmart her.

Sam, watching the unfolding showdown, shook his head in disbelief at the two of them acting like children.

Dean's question, "How old are you?" cut through the room like a blade. In that moment, the once-confident Y/N's demeanor began to crumble. Her shoulders slumped, and her usual fiery spirit seemed to dissipate. Sam, recognizing the shift, moved closer to the two of them.

Y/N's voice once filled with determination, now held a touch of vulnerability as she replied, "I don't know." Her unexpected answer caught Dean off guard, and he scoffed, momentarily forgetting that Y/N, bound by Veritas's power, couldn't lie.

Dean pressed on, his concern growing. "You don't know? How do you not know? You said you were four when your mother passed, right?"

Y/N's hand balled into a fist as her voice trembled, revealing her discomfort. "That was an estimate, really," she admitted, her gaze dropping to the floor.

Dean's earlier arrogance had transformed into guilt, “When is your birthday?”

Y/N continued to crumble under Dean's questions, “I don't know when my birthday is either. I was young when my mother died, and portions of the time I did spend with her were just gone. You know, all the head injuries from hunting over the years. So I just don't know."

Sam, seeing the impact of their questioning, decided to intervene. "Y/N, he didn’t mean to. If we would have known..."

Y/N nodded, offering a forced smile. "Yeah, I know. It's fine. Excuse me." With that, she swiftly grabbed her jacket and left the motel room. The door closed behind her, leaving Dean and Sam in a heavy silence, reflecting on the unexpected and sensitive exchange they had just experienced.

The tension in the room after Y/N's sudden departure was palpable. Sam sat there, his clenched fists and the fire in his eyes revealing his urge to punch Dean for his insensitive line of questioning. However, he managed to rein in his anger and instead, sank back into his chair, running his hands through his hair and leaning back as if to distance himself from the situation.

Dean, realizing the gravity of the situation and his blunder, let out a heavy sigh. He knew he had to make amends. He turned to Sam and began to apologize, his voice laced with remorse. "Look, Sammy, I'm sorry."

Sam, while appearing calmer, bore the weight of frustration and agitation in his voice as he replied, "Man, don't apologize to me."

Dean, his voice tinged with frustration and confusion, asked Sam for some understanding, "How the hell was I supposed to know she didn't know? I thought this whole time she was just embarrassed because she's older than us!"

Sam, now exasperated with Dean's lack of empathy, snapped, "How about you just DON'T ask!? Ever think of that? How about NOT taking advantage of the situation, huh?"

Dean seemed taken aback by Sam's reaction as he tried to explain himself, "Look, I don't see the big deal, right? So she has spent a few birthdays alone, so have we, and we're fine."

Sam's patience reached its limits as he stood up, speaking aggressively at his older brother, "DEAN! How can you be this dense, man? Just because something doesn't bother you doesn't mean the same for everyone else! Think about it, man. Kitsunes gain a tail for every 100 years they are alive OR by surviving a near-death experience. Y/N has three tails, one of which we know she got after she saved you. This means, as far as we know, she has possibly been alone and without a birthday for at least 200 years. You don't think she could be a little sensitive about it?"

The room fell into silence after Sam's outburst, the tension hanging in the air. Sam's heavy breathing spoke volumes about his frustration. Dean, on the other hand, seemed to be deep in thought, contemplating his brother's words.

Finally, Dean's face underwent a transformation, mixing elements of surprise and admiration. He acknowledged Sam's perspective, saying, "Well, you know, she's looking pretty good for someone in her third century."

Sam glared at Dean, warning him not to make light of the situation, and for a moment, it seemed like he really was about to physically confront his brother. But Dean then changed his tone, understanding the need to make amends, and said, "Okay, okay. I'm going." Dean reached for his jacket and headed for the door, leaving the room to find Y/N and mend the wounds his words had inflicted.

As the door closed behind Dean, Sam let out a sigh of relief, thinking that the tension might have finally dissipated. However, his moment of reprieve was short-lived. Dean burst back into the room, his deep burly voice loud and furious, “SAM!”

Startled, Sam immediately sprang to his feet, his expression shifting from relaxation to full alertness. He stammered out, "What? What?" His concern etched across his face, fearing that something terrible had occurred.

Dean, a wild mix of anger and concern written on his face, jarred his arm and pointed forcefully out the door. The combination of his frustration and his attempt to convey the problem made his voice growl, "She took my car!"

Sam stood frozen, momentarily unable to process Dean's words. His disbelief evident, he stuttered, "Wha-What?"

Dean, feeling exasperated and agitated, added emphasis to his complaint by raising both hands and rapidly pointing out the door in a theatrical manner. His anger dripped from his voice as he exclaimed, "Y/N took my car. Didn't even ask. I didn't even see her grab the keys!"

Sam finally found his words as he approached the door to confirm Dean's claim. He looked outside only to see the Impala missing from its spot. He could only muster a half-hearted apology as he said, "I'm sorry, man."

Dean, his irritation evident, turned to Sam, having heard his inner thoughts, and retorted, "Noo, you're not!" With that, he walked back into the motel room, Sam trailing behind him. Despite the situation, Sam had to stifle a laugh at Dean's dramatic response to having his beloved car taken by Y/N.

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The morning sun filtered through the curtains, stirring Y/N from her slumber. Sam's voice, so familiar and comforting, greeted her. He cheerfully mentioned, "Morning. Dean should be back any minute with breakfast."

Y/N rolled over in her bed, her eyes locking onto Sam as he fastened the last button on his plaid shirt and began rolling up his sleeves. She grunted, half awake, just as Dean strolled into the room. In one hand, he held a tray of coffees, and in the other, a white paper bag. Dean glanced at Y/N, who remained in bed, and couldn't resist his usual sarcastic remark, "You aren't out of bed yet?"

This time, Y/N growled softly as she reluctantly responded, "No." She sat up on her knees in bed, the comforter pooling around her waist. She rubbed her eyes and stretched, inadvertently causing the oversized nightshirt she was wearing to slip off her shoulder and down her arm.

As Dean unpacked the breakfast, he couldn't help but notice the severe bruising on Y/N's newly exposed skin. A furrow formed on his brow, and he seemed genuinely concerned. He set the tray down and walked over to Y/N. In a sarcastic tone, he asked, "Hey, Y/N. What happened to your shoulder?"

Confused by his comment, Y/N was about to ask him to clarify when Dean knelt beside her on the bed. Before she could react, Dean's hand gently brushed against her bruised skin, causing her to hiss and jerk away in pain. She inquired, "The hell?"

Dean pulled her shirt open a bit to further inspect the bruise, with worry etched across his features, and called out, "Sam!"

In an instant, Sam's head popped into the room from the bathroom, and Y/N was left anxious, asking, "Dean, how bad is it?"

Dean turned to face her, after making sure Sam was ready. Leaning forward with a determined expression, he said, "We're going to take your shirt off." Y/N nodded, agreeing to his suggestion, and attempted to raise her arms. However, the left side of her body was too painful to move. Dean carefully lifted the hem of her shirt, gingerly pulling it up to her arms and over her head. Y/N's bare back was now exposed to the brothers.

The bruise on her back was a gruesome sight. It was dark shades of black and purple, starting from her left shoulder and extending diagonally downward over her spine to her hip. The bruise seemed to spider out from the point of impact. Y/N sat there in silence, hugging her shirt to cover her chest. She could feel the intensity in the room, the brothers fighting to keep their anger and concern at bay. Their knuckles clenched and their eyes scanned every inch of her unclothed skin.

Finally, Dean asked, "What happened last night?"

Sam followed up, "Did you get into a fight?"

Dean chimed in again, "Did you run into the witch?"

And once more, Sam asked, "Why didn't you say something when you got in?" Their voices were filled with a mix of worry, anger, and curiosity, mirroring the storm of emotions inside them.

Bombarded with questions, Y/N turned to face both brothers, her expression a mix of confusion and surprise. She asked, "What are you talking about?" Her reaction prompted Sam and Dean to pause, considering that Y/N might be unaware of the bruising on her back.

Y/N, however, stood up from the bed and made her way to the bathroom. There, she could see her own reflection and assess the extent of the bruising. The baffled look on her face confirmed to the brothers that she was indeed unaware of the injuries. Dean then inquired, "So you didn't get into trouble last night?"

Y/N continued examining her own back, her tone soft as she explained, "I just drove to the gas station and sat there. I came back here and crawled into bed."

Turning back to face the room, Dean and Sam exchanged a puzzled glance. Dean remarked, "Well, something had to have happened."

As Y/N struggled to recall the events of last night, her memory started to piece together her nightmare, she would slowly put her shirt back on. Quietly, she walked into the main room and sat at the end of her and Sam's bed lost in her thoughts. She tried to remember if she had forgotten something crucial about the previous night.

Amid her contemplation, she gradually became aware of Sam calling her, drawing her attention back to the present. Her focus shifted from her thoughts to the person standing beside her. However, instead of seeing Sam, her eyes met Sano's. Startled, Y/N jumped and let out a screech. Her natural instincts kicked in, and she leaped backward onto the bed, her back hitting the headboard and wall with a hard thud. Y/N's gaze never wavered from the perceived threat as her heart raced, ready for action.

Amid her panic, she could hear Sam's voice emanating from Sano, asking, "Y/N!? What's wrong!?" On Dean's side, he stepped forward, trying to analyze the situation and understand why Y/N was looking at his brother in such terror. However, in Y/N's eyes, she saw Jason, and now both of her enemies were staring at her. Tension and fear filled the room as the unexpected confrontation unfolded.

Dean gazed at Y/N with a cautious expression, wariness in his movements. He questioned Sam, his voice tinged with uncertainty, "You think this is part of the hex?"

Sam's unwavering focus remained on Y/N as he explained, "No. I think she is hallucinating again."

As the brothers tried to calm Y/N down, Sam moved slowly, wary of setting her off again. In her mind, Y/N was fighting against the images that threatened to overwhelm her. She knew that what she was seeing wasn't real, but the emotions that came with the hallucinations were too intense to shake off. They were a constant reminder of the pain and fear she had endured in the past.

With Sam's gentle urging, Y/N finally started to come out of the trance, closing her eyes to concentrate. Her breathing slowed, and her heart rate returned to normal. The image of Jason and Sano faded as she focused on the present, aware of the familiar surroundings and the comfort the brothers brought.

Sam's voice was soothing as he stayed close to her, his hands resting on her shoulders. He whispered, "It's okay. You're safe."

Dean, on the other hand, was angry. “It’s happening again isn’t it?” He had seen the bruises on Y/N's back and knew that she was hurting. “The nightmares and hallucinations.”

Y/N took a deep breath and opened her eyes, her gaze shifting from Sam to Dean. She knew the brothers were there for her, and she appreciated their support. But now, with Dean's anger rising, she could sense the tension in the room. She tried to give him a reassuring smile, but her bruised body reminded her of the pain she was feeling, and she winced.

“You were supposed to tell us Damnit!” Dean ran his hand through his hair with irritation.

“How long has this been going on?” Dean’s voice was spent as he waited for an answer.

“Since the run-in with the Djin last week.” Y/N could bring herself to look at either brother as she was forced to admit the struggle she had been going through.

Dean noticed her discomfort, and his expression softened. He took a few steps towards her, his hand reaching out to her cheek. He ran his thumb along the dark circles beneath her eyes, courtesy of little sleep, asking, "Did they do this to you.. in your nightmare?"

Y/N nodded her head, feeling tears prick at the corner of her eyes. The thought of facing such pain and humiliation again was unbearable, and she couldn't help but feel weak. She tried to fight back the tears, but couldn't be stopped, the emotions she had been suppressing for so long were laid bare now. The brothers were taken aback by her sudden shift, but Sam was quick to react, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into a comforting embrace.

Dean stayed by their side, his hand soothingly rubbing her back gently. They knew the pain she felt was great, but they were determined to protect her and keep her safe.

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The brothers made their way back to the witches' house, ensuring that Y/N was composed enough to be left alone for a while. They knew there were valuable items to collect - items that could be useful to them as well as stuff that needed to be kept out of the wrong hands or from being discovered by ordinary people. Sam and Dean meticulously gathered what they wanted, and then piled the rest of it all up in the center of the house.

“We can't leave anything behind that could screw someone over.” Dean tossed some old odd ball items into the pile.

“Yeah, and who knows what spells or hexes are in this stuff.” Sam was inspecting a wooden box as he spoke.

With everything of importance gathered, the brothers took a step back and exchanged knowing glances. They were ready to rid the world of the witch's evil legacy. Dean produced a lighter, flicked it, and dropped it onto the pile, setting it ablaze. The fire quickly consumed the house and everything inside.

As Y/N waited for her lover's return, her mind wandered to vivid memories of her past. She thought back to the nightmares that had plagued her lately, a cruel manifestation of the trauma she had experienced before meeting Sam and Dean.

Y/N knew that Sam and Dean couldn't always protect her from everything, but she was grateful for their presence in her life. They gave her strength and made her believe that she was worth more.

As she continued to dwell on her past, Y/N's thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. She hesitated for a moment, staring at the door as her heart rate quickened. She didn't know whether to expect the brothers or someone else.

With a deep breath, Y/N got up from the bed, still feeling the pain in her back but determined not to show any weakness. She walked to the door and peered through the peephole, surprised to see a figure she didn't recognize. Y/N hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do, before deciding to open the door and confront the stranger.

Standing before her was a tall, broad-shouldered man with chiseled features and long, wavy hair. It was then that Y/N felt the dangerous energy he exuded, causing Y/N to tense up immediately. The man's eyes raked over her body, and Y/N couldn't help but feel violated by his gaze. She took a step back, instinctively wary of the stranger.

The man spoke in a deep, smooth voice that sent shivers down Y/N's spine. "May I come in?" he asked his tone almost a command as he stepped into the room without waiting for an answer.

Y/N stepped to the side, allowing the man to enter the room without touching her. As he strode inside, she couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding. Who was this man, and why was he here?

Y/N couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off about the stranger. She watched him closely as he made himself comfortable on the chair in the corner of the room. His piercing gaze never left Y/N, and she could feel his eyes roaming over her body. She took a few steps back, putting some distance between them before cautiously asking, "Who are you and what do you want?"

The stranger didn't seem taken aback by her wary tone. Instead, he leaned back in the chair and replied in a casual voice, "I'm Mark. And I'm here because I heard you have a unique gift."

Y/N narrowed her eyes, unsure of what to make of Mark's words. "What kind of gift?" she asked, her voice laced with suspicion.

Mark grinned, showing off white teeth. "I heard you're a Kitsune. The last one on earth, to be precise."

Y/N's eyes widened at his words, and she took a step back. "How do you know that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mark stood up, towering over her as he moved in closer. Y/N felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as he leaned in and whispered, "Let's just say I have connections. And I'm interested in you."

Y/N knew better than to trust this stranger, she had encountered many individuals seeking to exploit her unique Kitsune abilities before. Her heart raced as she searched for a way out. She silently cursed herself, how did she end up in this situation AGAIN!?.

"I'm not interested in whatever you have to offer," Y/N said firmly, taking a step back for every step he moved forward. "You need to leave now."

Mark's expression remained the same, his eyes burning into hers. "I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation," he said, his tone turning menacing. "You see, I have something that you want, and you have something that I want."

Y/N's mind was racing. What could he possibly have that she needed or wanted? She tried to keep her expression neutral as she asked, "And what would that be?"

Mark stepped even closer, reaching out a hand to touch her cheek. Y/N moved back, her heart racing.

"Don't touch me," she hissed, her eyes narrowing in warning. "What do you want?"

Mark's grin widened, his eyes flickering with malice and something else that made Y/N's skin crawl. "I want your power, Kitsune. And I'm willing to offer you something in return."

Y/N's stomach clenched as his words registered. She knew all too well what people like Mark wanted from her – her unique Kitsune abilities. But she couldn't let him have them, not at any cost.

"I'm not interested," she said resolutely, praying that the brothers would come back soon. She needed their help to get rid of this guy.

Mark's eyes narrowed, practically glowing with anger. "You should be, Kitsune. I can offer you something that no one else can." Mark leaned down to whisper into Y/N's ear, "Pleasure beyond your wildest dreams."

Y/N's heart stuttered in her chest as his words registered. She may have been in a relationship with the brothers, but that didn't mean she was interested in anyone else. And especially not someone like Mark.

"I said no," she repeated as she attempted to back away from him but found herself against a wall. Despite her compromised position, Y/N stood tall and strong as she warned, "You need to leave now before things get ugly."

Mark's expression turned thunderous, his fists clenching at his sides. "You're making a big mistake, Kitsune," he growled, taking a menacing step forward. "You don't know who you're dealing with."

But Y/N wasn't easily intimidated. Facing down evil creatures and protecting innocent people had made her tough.

"I know exactly who I'm dealing with," Y/N said, her voice firm and resolute. "You're a nobody. A creep who preys on vulnerable women and thinks he can get away with it. Well, you picked the wrong Kitsune to mess with."

Mark laughed, a cold, humorless sound that sent chills down Y/N's spine. "You think you're tough?" he taunted, stepping closer. "Let's see how you handle this." In one swift movement, he reached out and grabbed Y/N, pulling her close.

Y/N struggled against him, using all her strength to break free. Mark was surprisingly strong, but Y/N refused to give up without a fight. She kicked and thrashed, but Mark held on tight.

"You're going to regret this," Y/N spat, her eyes flashing with anger. "Let me go!"

But Mark only laughed, tightening his grip even further. "Oh, I don't think so. You're going to give me what I want, Kitsune. And then maybe, just maybe, I'll let you go."

Y/N's heart raced as she felt Mark's hot breath on her neck. She knew she had to act fast if she wanted to get out of this alive.

As Y/N was thrashing about, trying to break free from Mark's hold, he managed to drag her out of her motel room and onto the evening streets. Her eyes began to glow red, and she felt her energy being drained away. Panicking, she shouted, "What the hell is happening!?"

It was then that Y/N noticed the markings on Mark's arms that enveloped her. They were wards, specifically designed to trap kitsunes. Her mind instantly raced back to Olivia and Emma, the only other place she had seen these marks.

Mark stopped when they both heard the cocking of a gun and a loud, booming voice calling out, "Drop the girl, dirtbag!" Sam and Dean had arrived, pistols drawn, carefully approaching the scene.

Mark grinned and scoffed, "I guess the two of you were just too much for the little witch, huh?"

Another voice came from the opposite side of the parking lot, a voice that sent chills down Y/N's spine. "Regardless, you've done well, Mark. A fine catch, unlike some," Sano spoke, glancing disapprovingly at Jason.

Now, the standoff was intense. On one side stood the Winchester brothers, ready with their guns. On the other side were Sano, Jason, and a few more demons. Caught in the middle, Y/N was restrained by a hulking man. The tension in the parking lot was palpable, and everyone knew that something significant was about to happen.

Y/N froze in Mark's arms, her heart pounding as she listened closely to the chilling voice. It was a voice she had hoped was another hallucination, but the reality was crueler. Sano and Jason were indeed present. Dean called out, concern lacing his voice, "Y/N? You still with us, sweetheart?"

Her eyes darted to the ground, fear and anger mixing within her. Sam's voice reached her, explaining, "They've been here the whole time, watching us. They set the witch up to create tension between us and split us up so you were alone."

Jason chuckled cruelly, his tone dripping with mockery, "Sounds like someone spilled the beans. Well, I guess she got what she deserved."

Y/N's face twisted in pain and anger at the thought of another person being used as bait. Her eyes pulsed with a red glow as she tried to break free from Mark's unrelenting grip. Sano spoke in a condescending tone, "Now come along quietly, darling, or do we have to do this the hard way."

Seizing a moment of defiance, Y/N slammed her head backward, bashing Mark's nose. But he did not release her. Sano, however, seemed unperturbed, sighing with a smile as he snapped his fingers. A man from Sano's side advanced toward Mark and Y/N on the command. Seeing the man approaching, Sam, who had his pistol trained on Sano's group, called out, "Stop!" He tried to shoot, but both Sam and Dean's guns were sent flying out of their hands.

The man reached Y/N and stood before her, looking up at her slightly due to her being held off the ground. His eyes held a wicked glint as he smiled, untrusting of Y/N's defiance. With a defiant greeting, she spat in the man's face and warned, "If you do this, you will regret it."

Unfazed, the man slapped Y/N across the face, and then his grip tightened around her jaw. He hissed, "I'm going to enjoy you."

Simultaneously, Dean and Sam darted toward Y/N with the intent to rescue her. They clashed with Jason and another demon who appeared to block their path.

Meanwhile, the man before Y/N forced her mouth open, allowing the black smoke billowing from his mouth to slip into hers. A sense of foreboding hung in the air as this ominous event unfolded.

As the smoke flowing from the demon's mouth ceased, his body fell limp to the ground. Sam and Dean managed to land punches on the foes they were each fighting, causing them to crash to the ground just in time to witness Mark releasing Y/N from his hold. However, their relief was mixed with caution. Sam and Dean hesitated to approach her, for there was uncertainty in the air.

Y/N, her shoulders rolling, took a few steps forward until she stood alone between the opposing sides. Sam heard the weight in Dean's whispered words, "No…”

“Dean, please tell me she has the tattoo." Sam’s voice was rushed and panicked.

Dean was at a loss for words, his eyes locked on to Y/N, who stood there with a chilling smile. Waves of terror, regret, anger, and more crashed through the brothers as they watched Y/N's head loll to the side. Her eyes turned to solid black. Sam and Dean were already running through a multitude of possible scenarios, and most of them did not end well.

On the other side, Jason and Mark joined Sano's side in victory. Sano nodded, announcing, "Alright, let's get going now. Still, lots to do."

The demons seemed to evaporate one by one into the shadows as they followed Sano, leaving Mark and Jason to gather the empty vassal. With effortless ease, they hoisted the limp, meat suit onto their backs as Jason called for "Trey" to follow. Not a single flicker of movement escaped Y/N - not even an eyelid batted - as her unblinking eyes pinned the brothers with a menacing gaze so dark and void it seemed like any hope that had occupied them was completely extinguished.

Jason bellowed for Trey one last time but to no avail. Y/N smirked, the twisted corners of her lips curling upwards with a hint of satisfaction as she slightly cocked her head. Then in a startling motion, her face flung backward and a stream of pitch-black smoke spewed from between her lips. The billowing wisps of dark energy coiled around the air like an evil serpent, before snaking back into the vessel that Mark and Jason still grasped tightly. It slithered through the opening, reclaiming its sinister control.

The acrid smoke finally dissipated, and Y/N’s eyes flared to life in a furious shade of crimson. Her features hardened into an icy mask as she carefully turned from Dean and Sam to Jason, Mark, and Trey with disdain. Her rage reached peak intensity upon seeing Trey seize control of his vessel again. She was livid.

Trey's face twisted with fear and revulsion, as he shoved Mark and Jason out of his way, toppling himself onto the dirt. He screamed an anguished cry, "MONSTER! She's a MONSTER!" A torrent of emotions had been unleashed within him, memories and secrets that previously lay dormant released in a storm. Y/N stood like a colossus unmoving, her terrifying stare locked on Trey as he scrambled up from the ground and raced away in a complete frenzy.

Jason turned his attention back to Y/N, meeting her unyielding gaze head-on, while Mark remained vigilant, never letting her out of his sight. The tense silence hung in the evening air, pregnant with uncertainty.

Without exchanging a word, a subtle glance passed between Jason and Mark, and Mark nodded in response. Then, in the blink of an eye, the two demons vanished, leaving Y/N and the brothers alone once more.

Y/N, her back still turned to the brothers, closed her eyes, attempting to find calm within herself. As she focused, her eyes gradually shifted from their eerie red back to their natural color. The tension had not entirely dissipated, but at least for now, they were free from the immediate threat.

Dean and Sam cautiously approached Y/N's side. As they neared, she turned to face them, her voice trailing off as she prepared to speak. Before she could say anything, she was enveloped in a warm, reassuring embrace. The tension in Y/N's body visibly melted away as she found herself in Sam's comforting arms.

Dean's voice reached her ears, filled with a mixture of relief and exasperation. He said, "We're glad you're alright, but damn it, that scared the crap out of us."

Sam gently released his hold on Y/N and spoke with a determined tone, "We're getting you an anti-possession tattoo."

Y/N simply nodded in agreement, not wanting to argue the point about its necessity. She then felt Dean's hand atop her head as he pulled her closer, his arm wrapping around her shoulders. With a protective stance, he guided her back towards the motel room.

Dean's voice remained reassuring as he said, "Come on, let's get back inside."

Back inside the motel room, the atmosphere was a mix of relief and lingering tension. Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, still shaken by the recent possession. The room was dimly lit, casting elongated shadows across the walls.

Dean paced the room before he stood in front of her, his expression softening. He spoke gently, "Y/N, you've got to tell us what happened. I mean, you fought off a demon possession!”  

Y/N met Dean's gaze steadily before turning her attention to Sam, leaning against the table. She took a deep breath before speaking, the words tumbling out of her all at once, "It's not the first time I've had to fight off a possession. Sano must have known that and was trying to wear me down."

Sam's eyes widened in disbelief. "Between the witch and the nightmares starting suddenly that makes sense but still that's amazing, Y/N. I mean, demons are incredibly powerful beings. It's almost impossible to fight them off without the cure."

In the dimly lit motel room, Dean's gaze remained fixated on Y/N. Something felt off, her exhaustion palpable as her voice waned with each word she spoke.

“Hey, you doing alright?” Dean asked as he leaned down to look her over a bit.

“Yeah, just tired. Just because I can do it doesn't mean it's easy. Kitsune have a natural resistance to possession, but it's not foolproof, ya know?” Y/N nodded slowly, her hand reaching up to massage her temples, her fatigue evident in every line of her face.

“Well, hey, why don't you get ready for bed while Dean and I get the car squared away, and then we'll be in to join you. Yeah?” Sam, sensing something amiss, rose from his seat. He exchanged a silent glance with Dean, who found his brother's intentions somewhat perplexing.

Though Y/N was oblivious to their unspoken communication, she agreed with a nod, rising from her seat and making her way to the bathroom.

Once outside the motel room, with the night air enveloping them, Dean couldn't help but wonder about Sam's motives.

“Alright Sammy, so what are we doing out here”

Sam leaned against the Impala, his gaze focused on the starlit sky, searching for the right words to express his growing concerns.

“Dean. When a demon possesses you, they have access to all your thoughts, your memories, and... your secrets.”

“Yeah. And?” Dean acknowledged Sam's explanation, but he wasn't entirely prepared for what his brother would say next.

Sam seemed hesitant, torn by doubt and uncertainty as he revealed his worries. “Y/N fought off a demon who had possessed her for what, three minutes? And when he returned to his vassal, he was completely terrified of her. Even called her a monster.”

“Wait, you aren't having second thoughts about her, are you? Just because some random demon who tried to abduct her called her a monster?” Dean's face contorted in disbelief, his eyes wide with the shock of Sam's revelation.

“What? No!? I'm just concerned that maybe there are things about her she hasn't told us yet.” Sam was quick to clarify, hurt by Dean's assumption, and eager to express his true feelings.

“So what? We've done things we aren't proud of in the past. You think that would stop her from accepting who we are now?” Dean's stern expression remained his loyalty to Y/N unwavering as he offered his perspective on the situation.

Sam watched Dean, a subtle grin playing at the corners of his mouth. He couldn't help but be touched by the protectiveness that enveloped his older brother. It was a side of Dean that didn't surface often, and when it did, there was no mistaking the depth of his feelings for Y/N.

“What?”, Dean's brow furrowed at Sam's reaction, confusion etching his features.

Sam held Dean's gaze for a moment, his smile finally breaking through. He chuckled softly. “Nothing, sorry.” Clearing his throat to conceal the lingering grin, Sam leaned in closer to his brother.

“Look, you're right. She has and I don't doubt her. But I also don't want to wake up one day and realize there's a part of her she felt she couldn't share with us.” Sam's voice wavered slightly as he tried to express his concern. He understood Dean's faith in Y/N, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something she held back.

“Something that Demon saw clearly freaked him out, and I'm willing to bet it's something she still struggles with.”

“Alright.” Dean nodded in quiet agreement, “But only if she’s willing, we aren’t gonna force it if she doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“Yeah of course.” Sam nodded as he tried to contain his grin; knowing that his brother was more likely to actually push the matter.

“The spell has worn off right?” Dean paused before turning to the motel door and looked at Sam with suspicion in his eyes, not so much towards Sam but more that he understood his brother’s silent judgement and knew that he was right.

“Yeah. It’s been more then 24 hours. It should have worn off by now.” Sam’s reassuring words seemed to ease Dean’s appropriation since he was unable to hear an alternative ’true’ statement from Sam.

Dean nodded as he lead Sam back into the motel room, aware of the complexities of their lives and the secrets they carried.

End Chapter

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Notes:

This one I feel like came out a bit rough. I even rewrote some parts of it so if you notice anything or have any thoughts on it please let me know!

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜 This is the Female Reader-Insert Version of my Story, please consider taking a look at the Original with my OFC Saia.

Please comment & 💜

#supernatural #fanfic #supernatural fanfic #Dean x OFC x Sam #dean winchester #Fluff #Sam Winchester #Hurt/Comfort #Reader-Insert #Illness #Self-Insert #Angst #Kitsune #sam x reader x dean #Dean x reader x Sam #polyamory

[fluffalpenguin]

⬅[Prev] Day 3: Decks

@ygoc-week Day 4: Relationships

Like Day 2, some character introductions are included for context! (Image heavy post as usual)

relationship chart at the end of the post!

1. Fleur & Jackie (VS Hamelin)

The dazzling, dangerous duo of a heiress and a hitman-for-hire! Fleur was the one that gave Jackie her name, Jacqueline, from a romance novel she had been reading at the time.

Though they look like they share a standard master and servant relationship, the two are more like equals with a directional hierarchy. Partners-in-crime, if you will...

As a research student who's always struggling to get the Tops at her school to assist her in her thesis, Hamelin hates rich people for hoarding the very historical artefacts she needs for her research. With her Magikey deck and homemade gadgets, even state-of-the-art security systems don't stand a chance!

The next day after a failed heist at Fleur (after being foiled by Jackie), she bumps into him at the college. To her horror, Jackie learns her name, and from that day on seems to have decided that the two of them are now friends. 

Jackie has no clue that Hamelin and the phantom thief are the same person, but somehow he constantly makes cryptic remarks that allude to such knowledge. It always sets off the wheel in Hammy’s head.

“Inviting me out for an outing after nightfall? Is she trying to get proof that I am the phantom thief by proving that the two of us can never be at the same place at the same time? But if I say no, then she has even more reason to suspect me! If I say yes, I’m playing right into her hands… Curses! A moth? More like a spider!”  “(... She’s been thinking for a while now… Is she trying to think up a way to gently let me down? I feel a little bad… But I’m not giving up!)” <- innocently just wants to be friends

(The girl at the back is Jackie's childhood friend and unrequited-but-actually-requited crush, Eliza*)

2. Violentshipping Fuschia/Viol

In their clash during the war, Fuschia learnt the cruel reality of the dimensional war he was so happily participating in. He was to get a taste of his own medicine, but escaped his cardboard fate when Viol heard his desperate pleas about his siblings.

I'm slowly working on the specifics of their encounter but anyway here are bingo charts for the both of them filled by each other:

3. RGB trio (Fuschia & Abel* & Viol)

Fuschia thought he'd just have to avoid Viol for the rest of life as long as he worked at LDS, but little did he know meeting up with his old schoolmate, Abel, had a surprise in store for him... Their theme song is guy.exe by superfruit

4. Abel & Viol

After Abel defected to Xyz, the two ended up being in the same refugee camp. While they knew of each other's existence, they never spoke a word to each other for the entire war, only ever enjoying each other's silent company as they ate their meals in companiable silence. It was only after the war ended when they both returned to their 'spot' as a last hurrah of sorts that they finally exchanged names.

The two look stunning no matter the state they're in, and are often mistaken to be models. While they can be found hanging out at the most fashionable cafes in Maiami on the weekend, they'll also do the strangest things together, such as going fishing in the middle of a heavy storm.

arteeeeee omggggggggggg🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟👍👍 c079x BIG CATCH ‼️🎣🐟💯yall cray crayfish fr lmao!!! aluberenjoyer who took this photo

5. Fusion Mean Girls (Fuschia + Auvria* + Abel +α)

At any given day during a school day, Fuschia and Auvria can be seen sitting at the back of the classroom doing anything but paying attention, such as painting their nails. Despite that, if you were to call on them, they'd be able to answer the question with ease. This catches the eye of a certain Obelisk Force member...

On the battlefield, the pink-headed pair often play a game to see who can collect more resistance scarves in a given time limit.

6. Arte & Alcidis

In school, the two quickly became friends over a shared interest in the field of design. While Alcie would hesitate calling Arte a friend then, the loss of her comforting presence during the war made him realise how reliant he had been on her company. During the invasion, he writes many letters (diary entries) to her, knowing that she would want to know everything that happened. He doesn't actually give them to her when she's revived, because he's let himself be very vulnerable in them.

A handy dandy chart for an overview... (Not exhaustive because it only includes my own+1 ocs)

Things I wanted to draw but didn't have the time:

sillies trio meeting and their antennas reacting to each other

jackie vs hamelin rooftop duel

hamelin conducting a field study as jackie watches

post-canon alcie and arte hanging out

fuschia jackie vibing together

and a bunch of other combinations with my friends' ocs!! keels over

➞[Next] Day 5: Swap (Coming soon!)

(Note: * = OCs owned by @shinrei017)

#yugioh oc week 23 #pasu makes ocs #no prizes for guessing who my favourite child is #just kidding they're all my favourite #i have the pre-duel dialogue written down i just need to cook the mid/post one..............

[writer-somewhat]

This is an index of the many, many guides created by the Fountain Of Knowledge also widely known as @inky-duchess. However I decided to organize and revise to share, after seeing one ask about whether or not there was a compilation.

Also, I had to breakdown the list over multiple posts due to Tumblr's constraints, so I have added a handy list with each part.

Table of Contents

Part One Part Two ⬅ You Are Here Part Three

Character Creation

Appearance - Character Traits - Unlikeable Characters

Clothing & Accessories

Jewels Tiaras Part 1 - Tiaras Part 2 - Jewellery Beauty Hair - Cosmetics & Makeup Men Headwear - Fashion - Clothes - Uniforms Women Headdresses Part 1 - Headdresses Part 2 - Headwear - Gowns General Dressing Your Monarch - The Suit - Footwear - Peasant Clothes Clothes By Era Regency Fashion - Renaissance Gowns - Victorian Fashion - Edwardian Fashion Clothes By Culture Middle Eastern - Celt - Native American/Indigenous - African Traditional - Asian Traditional - Russian Court Gowns

Writing People

Kings - Queens - Princes - Princesses - Male Consorts Heirs & Spares - Mistresses - Bastards - Ladies In Waiting Ambassadors - Wards & Fostering - Servants - Royal Guards

Court and Courtiers

Surviving Fun & Games Male Court Positions Part 2 Female Court Positions Monarch's Council What Nobles Do

Big Happy(?) Family

Writing a Royal Family Part 2 Ottoman Harem Great Houses (19th-20th Century) Russian Nobility Medieval Household

Etiquette

Courting - How To Dress - Balls - Tea - A Day At Court - Court Etiquette

A Day In The Life Of...

Royalty - Queens - Princesses - Noble Ladies - Courtiers

How to be Social

Tis The Season Debutante Ball Balls Hosting a Society Dinner Food & Drink Letters & Correspondence Going Hunting Gestures

Court Archetypes

The Good King The Bad King The Good Queen The Bad Queen The Princess The Prince The Male Mistress The Advisor The Mentor The Pretender The Dynasty The Dethroned Royals The Courtiers Ladies-In-Waiting

#inky duchess #writing resources #writing reference #writing masterlist

[someone-elsa]

(part 2 of 14)

🔙 Chapter beginning ⬅ Previous part • Next part ➡ 📝 About the story and characters

River was just about to share a joke she had recently heard when she was interrupted.    "I must say I'm proud of you, daughter."    Her father and his girlfriend had arrived. Fashionably late, of course.

"Thanks," River said dryly. "This is my father Harrison Stacks and his... partner Isabella Peña."    Everyone exchanged greetings.    River continued: "May I introduce you to Shivani Pawar, my, uh, friend."

"Enchanted," Mr. Stacks said and bowed to kiss Shivani's hand. "Do we share love for tall, beautiful women, daughter?"    River rolled her eyes. "And this is Sara Sakamoto and her partner Bayu Wardhana."    More awkward greetings followed.

Notes: Isabella was created by @haziewhims​ 😘❤

#something about us by someone elsa #sau chapter 39 #sau chapters #ts4 storytelling #sims storytelling #sims story #sau sims story #ts4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 #simblr