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cjrae · 2 months

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Stunted Love. Or: The Theme of MaoMao's little finger.

Maomao's little finger is a recurring motif in the Apothecary Diaries, and it receives even more emphasis in the anime's first season - it represents her belief that romantic love leads to pain and destruction. Spoilers primarily for the anime, but also the epilogue of light novel four and Chapter 15 of light novel six below.

Love In A Cage

The motif is first introduced in "The Unsettling Matter of the Spirit" - Concubine Fuyou's story. Maomao has already noted the parallels between the red light district and the Inner Palace, but here we see what happens when romantic love is introduced into the mix. On paper, Concubine Fuyou is a literal object of pity. Her personhood is being gifted to an officer who recently distinguished himself on the front lines, discarded after having failed to please the Emperor. It's telling that this is one of the first times we see Jinshi interacting with a consort where he is completely serious, without bringing his charm to bear. We never hear him say anything, but it's clear that he's communicating the Emperor's order with respect and understanding the gravity of the consequences for Fuyou.

As the events of the episode unfold, the parallels between courtesans and consorts get stronger as Maomao introduces the concept of having a contract bought out - if a man wants a courtesan enough, she is also an object to be purchased, albeit at potentially astronomical price. At first glance, it would seem like these women have absolutely no power in these scenarios - but by the end of the episode, Maomao shows us the feminine side of this transaction - how a woman can manipulate the system she is trapped by in order to get what she wants. All she has to do is lower her value - a rather counterintuitive measure that can go horribly wrong all too easily, as we see later.

And what Concubine Fuyou wants is to escape the Inner Palace to be with the man she loves - a task that she succeeds at. She has played a long, patient game in the service of freedom. Trapped in the cage of the Inner Palace herself, Maomao holds her scarred finger against the freedom of the sky and wonders what kind of medicine love would make.

Devotion

We see further flashbacks to Maomao's past through multiple episodes, but the next time the concept of love is brought up is when Fengming is confessing her role in the death of Consort Ah-Duo's baby in "Honey" (episode 11). Maomao is brought up short by Fengming's confession - she flat out says to the audience that she's never loved anyone with that depth of devotion Fengming displays toward Ah-Duo, so she doesn't know how Fengming feels. But if she doesn't have empathy to offer, she does have a rough kindness. Another person might have said that Ah-Duo deserved to know why her son died, that the knowledge might have provided closure. Maomao, however, believes that knowing the baby's cause of death would only cause more pain (it's never the crime and always about the cover-up) without providing any actual benefit.

With these two episodes framing her early character development we see that, whatever Maomao's natural inclinations are (and I will leave discussion of neuro divergency to those better qualified to discuss it), there is a certain distance between Maomao and her emotions most of the time. It is implied that this distancing from her emotions is a trauma response as the image of a woman holding a knife above her head while kneeling on a bed is shown but not explained (it is the only recurring image during the montage before the discussion about her potential execution with Jinshi).

Lakan and Fengxian

In "Lakan" (episode 18) the motif begins recurring more often as Maomao's parentage is revealed. We've caught glimpses of the sick woman in the annex before, but as the camera pans over the bed, it's clear that this is Maomao's mother (as always in anime, the hair is a dead giveaway). We've seen Maomao in this room, always curled in a fetal position, staring with blank eyes, but here we see Maomao actually caring for a woman who she describes as driving her out over and over again. The camera's focus is on Maomao's eyes as she watches her mother continuing to deteriorate - they're blank yet again, echoing her earlier line of "This is stupid. She's gone."

This is not the look of a girl who genuinely doesn't care about her mother. The image of her mother with the knife upraised is straight out of recurring nightmares that wake her gasping with terror and continue to haunt her after she's returned to work. While there is no AFFECTION involved, there are certainly very strong emotions here. Later, in the bath with Meimei, Maomao wonders if Meimei's in love - and immediately shies away from the thought, insisting that "love is an emotion I'm sure I left behind in the womb."

Interestingly, this is immediately belied as the Three Princesses (the women who took on the maternal role that her mother discarded) begin to pamper Maomao in the bath, and she relaxes into their touch, flushed with belonging and pleasure at their attention.

Confrontation

In "Blue Roses," (episode 22), everything has built to a head. By hiding Maomao back into the Rear Palace, Jinshi is acting as her shield - and Lakan responds with a power play. Both he and Jinshi are aware that Lakan knows his true identity, so Lakan provokes Jinshi with a political test. "Nothing is impossible" for a man with Jinshi's power - so providing some blue roses at a garden party in early spring should be simple, right? It's a near impossible task and Lakan knows it - even if Jinshi were to figure out how to dye the roses to be the appropriate color, they're still out of season.

Up until now, Maomao's response to Lakan has been to hide. But, with Jinshi's reputation on the line and seeing how worn out he is, Maomao has finally had enough. So she takes Lakan's challenge on and, while she's in the process of growing the hothouse roses so that Jinshi can best Lakan, she diverts unwanted attention from the Crystal Palace's handmaidens by showing Xiaolan how to do a manicure - something that draws attention to the deformed pinky on her hand and changes her perspective of the damage to the finger.

The art should be paid attention to here - we see close up shots of two other people's hands after having the manicure done - Xiaolan and Consort Lihua. In both of these shots, there's some subtle detail paid to their little fingers as well - Xiaolan's is ever so slightly crooked rather than perfectly straight, while Lihua flexes her fingers so that the pinky is extended as she looks at her hands. In the next shot, Maomao has done her nails as well - and when Jinshi draws attention to the fact that he's surprised she would do her nails (like Hongiang, Maomao usually prefers work over fashion), she looks at the finger and remarks that, even though her little finger is twisted and scarred, it looks better than it did before - an acknowledgement that the finger is not actually a hindrance, but a piece of her identity.

Healing

Giving Lakan the opportunity to finally do right by Fengxian is the most grace and forgiveness that Maomao can extend to either of her parents. Their romantic love is certainly sympathetic to an outsider, but Maomao was shaped by the consequences. Lakan's carelessness and Fengxian's willingness to break the rules of the pleasure district in order to deliberately lower her value so that she could be with the man she loved, is the guiding cautionary tale of her life.

But Maomao has also grown over the season. She is neither the terrified little girl, abandoned by mother and father alike (however unintentionally on Lakan's part) nor a teenager full of fear fueled rage at Lakan's persistence. She is Luomen's daughter and proud of that fact - she has found her family and a place in the world. It is with that more adult understanding of the world around her that she dances atop the wall of the Rear Palace, giving her parents the only thing she can, which is her blessing and best wishes for their short future, as she sends her mother off.

Sure enough, who is watching her as she takes a step toward a more mature identity but Jinshi? Other characters have provided a shield between Maomao and Lakan - Verdigris' madam, Meimei and even Luomen. But it is on Jinshi's behalf that Maomao decided to face Lakan herself. She loves her adoptive dad and granny and sisters with all the affection she never received from Fengxian, but Maomao's actions have always spoken much louder than her words - Jinshi protected her and she, in turn, chose to face her childhood bogeyman to help him.

Is it stating the obvious that Maomao tripping and Jinshi catching her is an obvious metaphor for falling in love?

As she dances on the wall, we see the two seemingly disparate sides of her identity coalesce into a whole. The moment she lets down her hair is a uniquely Japanese moment of eroticism (this is why maiko and geisha use the oshiroi that bare the nape of their necks), even as she's also deliberately reapplied her freckles.

The moment she realizes that Jinshi truly sees all of her in a uniquely emotional moment, she trips and is made terrifyingly vulnerable as she nearly goes over the edge - only to be caught safely in Jinshi's arms.

Safely back atop the wall, the little finger comes up one more time - except that this time, instead of looking at the damage inflicted and seeing the scar, Maomao looks at her pinky and shows it to Jinshi, telling him what sounds like a strangely gruesome medical fact. That a fingertip can regrow if cut off. For all the trauma that her biological parents caused her, for all that her pinky will be scarred for the rest of her life, the wound did heal. Maomao has healed - she is capable of friendship, loyalty and love that can inspire devotion - even if she rarely displays open affection.

Love Creates Fear

This motif comes back again, at the end of light novel 4 (what will be the end of Season 2, if the studio continues to stick to two light novels a season for pacing, which I expect they will). Jinshi has officially cast aside his cover as a eunuch and stepped into the political limelight as the Imperial Brother. Maomao, as a result of their adventures, has returned home, to her apothecary shop and, as she works she thinks about how everything has changed.

"Jinshi must have finally gone back to being whoever he really was. Maomao didn't know his real name: she couldn't have used it even if she did. The worlds they lived in were simply too different…Anyway, now that Jinshi was no longer a eunuch, he couldn't get away with keeping some lowborn girl around him…So it was for the best, really, that Maomao had come back to the apothecary's shop in the pleasure district."

As Maomao ruminates to herself about how she will never see Jinshi again, she retreats to what she knows best - medicine. She's got her emotions under lock and key and she's begun experimenting, working on creating a more potent painkiller. However, her pain tolerance is too high to work with her previous methods.

Or, to lay the metaphor bare, Maomao has dealt with abandonment before, but not like this. Her usual methods aren't working - so it's time to up the ante. What she does next is extremely telling.

"'Got to cut deeper if I want to be sure'. Maomao looked at her left hand, then tied some string firmly around her pinky. She stood and took a small knife from a cabinet. 'Here goes!'

Just as she was about to bring the knife down, a beautiful voice interrupted her: 'WHAT are you doing?'

Without a word, she turned to see a man in an unusual mask standing in the entryway of the shop…'Done with all your work?' Maomao asked, undoing the string around her finger and putting the knife back in the cabinet."

The thought that she and Jinshi are now living in such different worlds that they will never see each other again is painful enough that cutting her finger off in a thinly justified experiment is preferable to feeling her own emotions. What Maomao wants in this moment is a return to the emotional numbness of the past - only this time, she will do the damage herself.

But Jinshi is not Lakan and abandoning Maomao for any reason is simply not an option. Just as he caught her on the wall, Jinshi catches her again. A prince is standing in an apothecary shop on the edges of the red-light district, a place where he should not be - except for the fact that it's where Maomao is.

Connection and Communication

Finally, as a callback toward the end of light novel six, Jinshi and Maomao are beginning to reconnect after Jinshi screwed up and lost a lot of emotional ground in light novel five's epilogue, and he does the following.

"She reached out for the package, which Jinshi had put behind his back, but he planted a palm on her belly to keep her from sitting up and she couldn't reach it. She kicked her legs from sheer frustration and this time he grabbed her ankle. She was just trying to decide what he might be planning when he brushed the tip of his pinky finger along the back of her foot.

'Hrk?!' Maomao choked, squirming...The back of her foot, and her back as well, were hopelessly vulnerable to a gentle brush of the fingers.

'M-Master Jinshi...That's...not...fair!'"

While Jinshi is still the instigator in this scene, this is the the first instance of romantic and sexual contact that Maomao accepts, eventually bursting out laughing - and when he gets that laughter, Jinshi also immediately backs off, accepting that he has pushed her as far as she can go right now. But that first contact was via that tiny fingertip representing love.

His hard-learned patience is rewarded when Maomao is finally willing to speak to Jinshi about how she's feeling about his desire to marry her, first obliquely as they discuss the plot of a very familiar tragic romance, before she addresses the issue directly.

"Instead of answering, she murmured, 'I don't want to be an enemy.' Jinshi gave her a sidelong look as if to ask whose enemy she meant. 'To Empress Gyokuyou,' she said.

Would Jinshi understand what she was saying? If not, that was fine, Maomao thought. There were things even he didn't know.

'You - '

He seemed about to ask her something else when a horse whinnied outside..."

Maomao may be hesitant, she may feel very confused, but she finally gives Jinshi something to work with here - communicating to him not that she simply doesn't care about him that way, but that she has a very real, concrete fear about what a romantic relationship with him would mean, not only for them, but for everyone else around them.

That's a lot to balance on the tip of a pinky.

#kusuriya no hitorigoto #the apothecary diaries #maomao #character analysis #jinshi and maomao #jinshi x maomao #jinshi #long text post #apothecary diaries meta #jinmao

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rafesapologist · 5 months

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the set up — rafe cameron; part thirteen

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

warnings: angst, smut, jj being sad, unedited

You sat bolt upright on Rafe's bed, your fingers clutching the phone, your eyes fixed on a distant point as you absorbed Kiara's message. The color drained from your face as the words sank in. "Missing? How... when?" Your voice trembled with disbelief and worry. Your breaths quickened, a sharp pang of panic gripping your chest. You turned slightly away from Rafe, shielding the phone from him, grappling with the weight of this sudden and alarming news. The room felt stiflingly small as your mind raced through scenarios and possible courses of action.

"He's been gone since you left. None of us can get a hold of him."

Your heart began to race as Kiara's words sunk in. "What do you mean, gone? Did he say anything to you?" You asked, her voice tinged with concern.

"No, nothing. He was just acting weird before you left, and then he disappeared," Kiara replied, her worry palpable even through the phone.

Your mind raced through various scenarios, trying to make sense of the situation. "Okay, stay put. I'll be there in a few," You said, trying to sound composed despite the anxiety that clenched at her chest.

You ended the call, looking over at Rafe, mind conflicted about what to do next.

The weight of Kiara's words lingered heavy in the air as you sat there, grappling with the sudden and alarming news. Rafe sat nearby, his expression a mix of concern and confusion, unaware of the distressing conversation that had just transpired.

Your fingers trembled slightly, the phone clutched tightly in your grasp, its screen a stark reminder of the urgent situation. You turned slightly away from Rafe, shielding the phone, not wanting to alarm him yet, as your mind raced through a labyrinth of worries and potential scenarios.

Rafe's voice, laced with worry, cut through the tense silence. "Is everything okay?"

Your breath caught, and you struggled to compose yourself. "It's... it's JJ," you began, your voice barely above a whisper, eyes fixed on a distant point as you tried to process the magnitude of the situation.

Rafe's brows furrowed in concern. "What happened to JJ?"

"He's missing," you managed to say, your voice laden with worry and disbelief. The room seemed to shrink around you, the weight of the situation suffocating.

Rafe's eyes widened in shock and concern. "Missing? How?" His voice betrayed his worry, his concern mirroring yours as he leaned in closer, trying to understand the situation.

Your thoughts were in turmoil as you relayed the conversation with Kiara. "He's been gone since I left. Kiara and the others can't get a hold of him," you explained, your voice quivering with apprehension.

A surge of panic gripped your chest as Kiara's words echoed in your mind. "He was just acting weird before you left, and then he disappeared."

The gravity of the situation was undeniable, and your mind raced through a maze of possibilities, trying to make sense of JJ's sudden disappearance. The urge to act was strong, but a sense of helplessness settled over you, unsure of the next step to take.

Looking at Rafe, torn between the urgency of the situation and the need to involve him, you weighed your options, seeking a way to navigate this distressing predicament without causing unnecessary worry or alarm.

The air in the room felt charged with tension, the weight of JJ's disappearance hanging heavy between you and Rafe. As you contemplated your next move, a whirlwind of worry and urgency tugged at your thoughts.

"I should go and find JJ," you suggested, your voice edged with determination, though uncertainty gnawed at your resolve. "I'll figure this out."

Rafe's brows furrowed in concern. "I'm coming with you," he declared, his tone firm and resolute. His protective instinct surged to the forefront, a palpable insistence in his voice.

Your voice trembled slightly, a mix of worry and insistence threading through your words. "Rafe, I don't want you getting involved. This is my fault," you admitted, the weight of responsibility heavy on your shoulders.

Rafe's expression softened, his concern unwavering. "How could this possibly be your fault, y/n?"

"I don't know," you began, your voice filled with uncertainty. "I left, and now this happened. Maybe if I had stayed..."

Rafe's hand gently touched your shoulder, his touch a comforting anchor in the whirlwind of emotions. "You can't blame yourself for this," he insisted, his voice soft but resolute. "We don't know what happened that caused him to wander off, but it's not your fault."

The weight of his words sank in, a brief respite in the storm of worry and guilt. You looked up, meeting Rafe's understanding gaze, the weight on your shoulders lightening slightly under his reassurance.

"But if I hadn't left..." you trailed off, the what-ifs clawing at your thoughts.

Rafe's voice carried a sense of urgency, his words a gentle yet firm plea. "No, Y/N, don't do this to yourself."

Your gaze flickered from the floor to meet his, a swirl of emotions reflected in your eyes. The weight of responsibility and guilt tugged at your thoughts, threatening to overwhelm you.

"But maybe if I hadn't left..." You hesitated, the words catching in your throat, each syllable laden with self-blame.

Rafe's hand reached out, gently cupping your face, his touch warm and reassuring. "Y/N, you can't hold yourself accountable for things beyond your control," he urged, his voice earnest. "None of this is your fault."

His unwavering support and insistence penetrated the cloud of guilt shrouding your thoughts. His words, a beacon of reason amidst the storm of self-blame, nudged you to consider the situation more objectively.

"You did what you thought was right," Rafe continued, his voice soft but resolute. "Blaming yourself won't help us find JJ. We need to focus on finding him."

A flicker of resolve sparked within you, reigniting the determination to address the present crisis rather than dwell in the murky depths of guilt.

Rafe's unwavering support offered a lifeline, a steadying force amid the tempest of emotions. With his reassurance echoing in your mind, you nodded, a silent acknowledgment that it was time to redirect your focus toward the urgent task ahead.

"Okay," you murmured, your voice steadier, as you readied yourself for the search, the weight of self-blame gradually lifting, replaced by a renewed determination to find JJ.

The air was thick with tension as the two of you prepared to leave, the weight of the situation hanging heavy between you. Anxiety gripped at your chest as you thought of JJ, wondering where he was and what had happened to him.

As you made your way to the door, Rafe reached out, placing a gentle hand on your arm. "Y/N," he said, his voice soft, "I'm sure he'll be okay."

"I hope so." Your voice trembled slightly, betraying the fear and uncertainty that lurked beneath the surface. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself against the whirlwind of emotions.

You suggested to Rafe that splitting up might improve the chances of finding JJ. Rafe glanced at you, his concern mirrored in his eyes. "Are you sure?" he asked, hesitant to separate in such a tense situation.

You nodded, forcing a small smile to reassure him. "Yeah, we can cover more ground that way. I'll head towards the shipwreck, it's a spot JJ usually goes to when he needs to think."

Rafe hesitated for a moment, his worry evident. "Okay, just... be careful, alright?" he said, his voice laced with concern.

You nodded again, appreciating his concern. "I'll be fine, Rafe.. Let's just stay in touch, keep our phones on."

With that, you both went your separate ways, each consumed by the urgent need to find JJ. Rushing towards the shipwreck, your heart raced with worry and anticipation. The vastness of the island seemed daunting as you searched every corner, calling out JJ's name in the hope that he might be nearby.

As you reached the shipwreck, your pace slowed, your senses heightened in anticipation of finding JJ there. The familiar sight of the weathered wood and rusted metal struck a chord within you, reminding you of the countless times JJ had sought solace in this quiet spot.

"JJ!" you called out, your voice echoing against the waves crashing nearby. But there was no response. You scanned the area, your eyes darting from corner to corner, searching for any sign of his presence.

And then, to your surprise, you spotted him seated atop the old wreck, his silhouette against the dimming sunlight. His posture was slouched, his gaze fixated on the horizon, lost in contemplation.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. Relief flooded through you, but it was quickly replaced by concern. Approaching him cautiously, you called out softly, "JJ?"

He turned his head slightly, acknowledging your presence without saying a word. As you moved closer, a somber atmosphere enveloped the space between you. JJ's usual cheerful demeanor was replaced by a veil of melancholy.

"Hey," you said, a mix of relief and worry in your voice. "Are you okay?"

He hesitated before replying, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation. "I will be, I guess."

You nodded, forcing a small smile to reassure him. "Yeah, we can cover more ground that way. I'll head towards the shipwreck, it's a spot JJ usually goes to when he needs to think."

Rafe hesitated for a moment, his worry evident. "Okay, just... be careful, alright?" he said, his voice laced with concern.

You nodded again, appreciating his concern. "You too. Let's stay in touch, keep our phones on."

And then, to your surprise, you spotted him seated atop the old wreck, his silhouette against the dimming sunlight. His posture was slouched, his gaze fixated on the horizon, lost in contemplation.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. Relief flooded through you, but it was quickly replaced by concern. Approaching him cautiously, you called out softly, "JJ?"

"Hey," you said, a mix of relief and worry in your voice. "Are you okay?"

He hesitated before replying, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation. "I will be, I guess."

Your gaze softened as you sat down beside him, allowing a moment of silence to linger between you. The sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting a warm orange glow across the sea.

"I'm sorry for worrying everyone," JJ finally spoke, his voice carrying a heavy weight.

"It's okay," you reassured him gently. "We were just concerned about you, Jay. You know you can talk to us, right?"

He nodded, but his expression remained guarded, his thoughts seemingly elsewhere. The tension in the air was palpable, and you felt the need to break it, to reassure JJ that he wasn't alone.

"JJ, what happened?" you asked softly, your voice filled with genuine concern. "You know we're all here for you, right?"

He hesitated, as if wrestling with his thoughts, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. "I... I've been feeling... I don't know, things are just... complicated."

You nodded in understanding, giving him the space to open up at his own pace. "Take your time," you encouraged, hoping to offer some comfort in this moment of vulnerability.

"It's just... being around you and Rafe, seeing you both together, hearing about it... it's hard," he admitted, his voice tinged with a mix of emotions.

Your heart sank, understanding the weight of his words. "JJ, I'm sorry," you began, feeling a pang of guilt. "I never wanted to make things difficult for you."

"It's not your fault," JJ interjected quickly, his eyes meeting yours with sincerity. "I should have said something earlier, instead of letting it eat away at me."

A heavy silence fell between you, the words hanging in the air, pregnant with unspoken feelings. The setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, casting a warm glow around the two of you.

"Y/N," JJ started, his voice barely above a whisper, "I've... I've been holding back something for a while."

Your gaze met his, curiosity and concern evident in your eyes. "What is it, JJ?"

He took a deep breath, his expression a mix of hesitation and vulnerability. "I... I think I might have feelings for you." The confession caught you off guard, your heart skipping a beat at his unexpected words. The air seemed to grow heavier as you processed the weight of his revelation, unsure of how to respond.

A long moment of silence stretched between you, the tension thickening as the truth hung heavily in the air.

You shifted slightly, trying to make sense of his unexpected admission, to decipher the tangled mess of emotions churning within you. "JJ, I..." you trailed off, uncertain how to proceed, a part of you unwilling to admit the truth.

"I know," JJ said, a hint of sadness and resignation in his voice. "You and Rafe... it's pretty clear."

You struggled to find the right words, struggling to navigate the complex web of emotions. "It's not that I don't care about you," you began, the words catching in your throat, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

"It's not fair to either of you if I keep hiding it, right?" JJ asked, his voice edged with resignation.

The truth, laden with guilt and uncertainty, hovered between the two of you, threatening to tear down the wall that had protected the fragile bond between you.

You felt a wave of guilt wash over you, your heart torn between the two boys you cared about. A swirl of emotions threatened to overwhelm you, but in this moment of vulnerability, an understanding settled between you and JJ, the weight of unspoken feelings finally acknowledged.

The air between the two of you was thick with tension, but the raw honesty of the situation was a relief, the unspoken feelings that had hung heavy in the air between you finally brought to light.

"It would make things really complicated, JJ. You're my best friend, you know I can't-"

"But you can be with Rafe?"

"I love him." the words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the reality you were facing. The unspoken feelings that had existed between you and JJ for so long had finally been brought to light, and you felt an undeniable shift in the dynamic between the two of you.

"I can't say it doesn't hurt, knowing that," JJ admitted, his voice barely a whisper. The sound of his voice broke your heart, and you reached out to gently place your hand on his.

"JJ, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. You're one of my closest friends, and the last thing I want to do is lose you." He turned to look at you, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"I know. And I don't want to lose you, either. I care about you, y/n. But it hurts, knowing that you don't feel the same way."

The weight of his words sunk in, and you felt an ache in your chest as you realized the depth of his feelings. "I'm sorry, JJ. I wish I could say otherwise. I wish I could make things different."

"It's not your fault," he assured you. "I knew the risk of telling you, and I still had to do it. I had to get it off my chest, to tell you how I feel."

You nodded, the weight of his confession settling on your shoulders. "I'm glad you did," you replied, your voice heavy with emotion. "I want you to know that I'll always be here for you, JJ. I don't want this to change things between us. I don't want to lose you as a friend."

He offered a small smile, a hint of warmth breaking through the sadness in his expression. "Me, too. I want us to stay friends. I want us to be okay."

You returned his smile, feeling a rush of affection for him. "We will be, JJ. We'll always be okay."

The conversation drifted to other topics, the tension gradually dissipating as the two of you reconnected on a new level, the weight of unspoken feelings finally lifted between you.

In the midst of the moment, your phone began to ring, lighting up with the name "Rafe Cameron" in a large font on your lock screen. Your heart sank for a moment, knowing JJ could see. You felt him tense up, as if the mere mention of his name had a physical effect on him.

"Hey, I'm so sorry, I'm going to answer this, just give me a minute," you explained, a hint of urgency in your voice.

"Hey, Rafe."

"Any luck? He asked on the other line, voice laced with genuine concern.

"Yeah, I found him."

"Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine, we're going to head back." You reassured, looking back over your shoulder to see JJ sitting in the same spot as before, staring straight back at you with an empty look on his face.

"Okay, I'll meet you there."

You hung up the phone, slipping it into your pocket and approaching JJ. "Hey, I'm really sorry, but Rafe is going to meet us back at the chateau. Are you okay with that?"

JJ's jaw tightened, the weight of the situation settling on his shoulders. "Yeah, of course. I'm ready."

You nodded, the tension between the two of you palpable. With a sigh, you led him back toward the chateau, a heavy silence falling between the two of you. The air was still and calm, a stark contrast to the chaos raging in your mind.

The journey back was short but felt like an eternity, the heavy silence between you and JJ a stark contrast to the usual camaraderie and banter. You were both acutely aware of the weight of the situation, the reality of the feelings that had been revealed. You snuck a glance at him, the weight of his confession weighing heavily on your heart. You wondered if this was the end of the friendship that had meant so much to both of you.

Finally, the chateau came into view, and your stomach twisted with anxiety as you realized that the others would be waiting for you. You could already hear their voices drifting from the backyard, a mix of relief and concern.

You looked over at JJ, who seemed equally apprehensive. You wanted to say something, to reassure him, but the words wouldn't come. You simply gave him a nod, a silent communication that you were both in this together, and stepped into the backyard, ready to face the inevitable questions and concerns.

"Hey, everyone," you called out, a hint of forced cheer in your voice. "JJ's back."

The group turned to face the two of you, a mix of relief and worry on their faces.

"JJ, man, are you okay?" Pope was the first to speak, his voice tinged with concern.

"Where were you, dude? We were worried sick," Kie added, her expression a mixture of relief and frustration.

"I'm fine," JJ said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry I worried you guys. I didn't mean to cause any trouble."

"It's okay, JJ," John B said, his voice gentle. "We're just glad you're safe."

JJ nodded, his expression somber. "I'm gonna head inside, if that's cool," he said, avoiding everyone's eyes.

"Of course, man," John B replied, his voice full of concern. "Get some rest, okay?"

"Yeah, thanks," JJ murmured, heading into the chateau.

A tense silence hung in the air as everyone processed the situation. Kiara was the first to break the silence, her voice tinged with concern and confusion. "What happened out there?"

You shrugged, trying to remain casual. "I don't know, he was just gone. Maybe he needed some time alone."

"He seemed upset about something," Kiara persisted, her gaze searching your face for answers.

"He was," you admitted, the weight of JJ's confession still fresh in your mind.

"Is he going to be okay?" John B asked, his brows furrowed with worry.

You hesitated, unsure of how to answer. "I hope so," you finally said, the weight of the situation resting heavily on your shoulders.

Pope's concern was evident. "We're his friends. If there's something bothering him, we should be there for him, right?"

"You're right, Pope. I'm sure he'll talk to us when he's ready," you assured them, though the knot of anxiety in your chest told a different story.

"If there's anything we can do, just let us know," Kie said, her gaze meeting yours with concern.

You nodded, giving her a tight smile. "Thanks, Kie. I will."

You excused yourself, making your way into the chateau. Your footsteps echoed against the hardwood floor as you made your way down the hallway. You paused at JJ's door, the weight of the situation resting heavily on your heart. You contemplated knocking, but hesitated, unsure if your presence would be welcomed.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to knock gently on JJ's door, hoping that he would want to talk. After a few moments of silence, you heard a faint response. "Come in."

Pushing open the door, you found JJ sitting on the edge of his bed, staring down at his clenched fists. His shoulders were slumped, and his usual vibrant energy seemed to have been drained from him.

You closed the door behind you and walked over to sit beside him. The room felt heavy with unspoken emotions, but you knew it was important to break the silence. "JJ... I'm sorry about earlier. I never wanted to hurt you."

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of sadness and resignation. "I know, y/n. You don't have to apologize for not feeling the same way. It's just... hard, you know?"

"I can imagine," you replied softly, reaching out to rest a hand on his shoulder in a gesture of comfort. The tension in his body seemed to melt away slightly under your touch, and he leaned into it, craving the solace you offered.

"I've never felt this way before," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I don't know how to navigate these emotions. It's like a storm inside me, tearing everything apart."

You squeezed his shoulder gently, trying to convey your understanding. "Love can be overwhelming sometimes, JJ. It's okay to feel lost or confused. We all go through it."

He let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. "But why now? Why did I have to fall for you, of all people? It's so complicated, and it's messing with everything."

You sighed, knowing that there was no easy answer to his question. "Sometimes, love doesn't choose the most convenient time or person. It just happens, and we can't control it." Your fingers absentmindedly traced circles on his shoulder, hoping to offer him some comfort.

JJ leaned his head back against the wall, his gaze fixed on a distant point. "I never wanted to ruin our friendship," he murmured. "You mean so much to me, and I don't want to lose that."

"I don't want to lose our friendship either," you admitted, feeling the weight of his words settle heavily in your chest. "But JJ, we can't pretend that what you've shared doesn't exist. We have to confront it and figure out how to move forward."

He turned his head slightly, locking eyes with you. The intensity in his gaze made your heart skip a beat. "Do you think we can?" he asked, a hint of vulnerability in his voice you could never have imagined. The question hung in the air, both of you acutely aware of the precariousness of the situation. There was no guarantee that your friendship could survive the weight of unrequited love, but there was something about JJ's earnestness that made you want to try.

"I don't know," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But we owe it to ourselves and our friendship to at least try."

JJ nodded slowly, his gaze searching yours for any signs of hesitation. "I'm willing to fight for us, y/n. Even if it means keeping my feelings at bay, I don't want to lose what we have."

A lump formed in your throat as his words settled in your mind. His selflessness in making this declaration stirred something within you, touching a deep chord. "Thank you, JJ. I'll make sure to always be truthful with you," you replied. A faint smile played on his lips and there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes

"I should get going, Rafe's outside waiting." You reluctantly ushered, realizing that Rafe was waiting outside for you. JJ's expression shifted from excitement to disappointment as he nodded understandingly. You could see a glimmer of acceptance in his eyes, but also a tinge of sadness.

"Yeah, go ahead," he said, his voice tinged with melancholy. "I'll see you later." His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions and unfulfilled expectations. It was clear that he wanted you to stay, but respected your decision to leave. You couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt as you turned and walked away, leaving JJ behind with his thoughts and feelings.

You stood up from the bed, feeling a pang of guilt as you walked towards the door. The weight of your decision to be honest with JJ tugged at your heart, but you knew it was necessary for both of your sakes. As you reached the doorway, you turned back to look at him one last time.

"Take care, JJ," you said softly, offering him a small smile before stepping out into the hallway. The door closed behind you, leaving JJ alone in his room with his tangled emotions.

Outside, Rafe stood waiting for you by the chateau entrance. His presence brought a sense of familiarity and comfort, momentarily easing the ache in your chest. But as you approached him, a nagging feeling tugged at the back of your mind.

"Hey," Rafe greeted you with a warm smile. "Ready to go?"

You nodded, but couldn't shake off the guilt that still lingered within you. The image of JJ sitting alone in his room, struggling with his feelings, haunted your thoughts. It was as if a heavy cloud had settled over your heart, dampening any sense of joy or excitement.

As you and Rafe made your way back to his car, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming need to confide in someone, to share the burden weighing you down. You knew you couldn't keep it all to yourself; it would eat away at you.

"Rafe," you finally spoke up, your voice barely above a whisper. "Can I talk to you about something?"

He glanced at you with concern, his eyes filled with the genuine care that drew you to him. "Of course," he replied softly, pulling the car keys out of his pocket and pausing before unlocking the door.

"What's on your mind?"

Taking a deep breath, you glanced out at the chateau as it faded into the distance, the weight of your secret threatening to crush you. "It's about JJ," you began hesitantly, your voice barely audible. "He... he confessed his feelings for me."

Rafe's grip on the car keys tightened slightly, and you could see the flicker of unease in his eyes. "Oh," he said softly, his voice tinged with a mix of surprise and disappointment. "I see."

You turned to face him fully, searching his expression for any sign of judgment or resentment. Instead, you found compassion and understanding. It was clear that Rafe cared about your happiness, even if it meant setting aside his own desires.

"I didn't know what to do," you continued, your voice wavering. "I care about him so much, but not in the same way that he does. I don't want to lose our friendship, but I also don't want to lead him on."

Rafe remained silent, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. His grip on the steering wheel tightened even further, and you could sense the conflict within him. It was as if he was battling his own emotions, torn between what he wanted and what he believed was right.

"I don't want to hurt anyone," you whispered, feeling the sting of tears welling up in your eyes. "I never asked for any of this."

Rafe continued driving in silence, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. You could practically feel the tension radiating from him, his internal struggle palpable in the confined space of the car. The road stretched out before you, matching the uncertainty that stretched out before your words.

Finally, Rafe let out a heavy sigh, his voice laced with a mix of empathy and caution. "I understand that you're in a difficult position," he said, his gaze still fixed on the road. "But you have to remember that you can't control other people's feelings. It's not your fault that JJ has these emotions for you. What matters now is how you choose to handle it."

His words cut through the fog of guilt that had consumed you, offering a glimmer of clarity. You wiped away the tears threatening to spill over, realizing that Rafe was right. You couldn't bear responsibility for someone else's feelings, no matter how painful it might be.

"But what if I can't avoid hurting him?" you whispered, your voice filled with a mixture of fear and vulnerability. "What if my actions inadvertently lead him on?"

"How would they do that?" Rafe's question hung in the air, heavy with implications. It forced you to confront your own intentions, to examine the way you interacted with JJ and whether you had unknowingly given him false hope. The car seemed to shrink around you, trapping your thoughts and anxieties in its confined space.

You replayed every conversation, every touch, searching for signs that could be misconstrued as encouragement. As your mind raced through these memories, you began to sense a pattern - a subtle kindness that had been interpreted as something more. But was it your responsibility to police every word and gesture?

Your voice trembled as you tried to articulate your doubts. "I've always been friendly towards him," you began cautiously. "But maybe my actions have been misinterpreted. Maybe I haven't been clear enough."

"He should have known better than to make assumptions. You and him are just friends, after all." He shrugged, seemingly blowing off JJ's feelings for you.

You bristled at Rafe's dismissive tone, feeling a surge of protectiveness for JJ. "It's not that simple," you argued, your voice tinged with frustration, "He's human, Rafe. We all make mistakes and misinterpret things. It doesn't mean he deserves to be brushed off like that."

Rafe sighed, the tension in the car thickening. "I didn't mean it like that. I just...don't want you to blame yourself for something that isn't your fault." You nodded, understanding Rafe's perspective, but still unable to shake off the guilt that gnawed at you. The weight of responsibility for someone else's heartache was heavy on your shoulders, and it seemed like no matter what you did, someone would end up hurt.

"I know it's not entirely my fault," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't help but feel responsible somehow. I care about JJ deeply, and seeing him hurt because of me... it's difficult."

Rafe's grip on the steering wheel loosened slightly as he glanced at you, his eyes filled with a mix of sympathy and concern. "I understand," he said gently. "But you have to remember that you can't control how others feel. What you can control is how you handle the situation."

You took a deep breath, letting Rafe's words sink in. He was right, of course. You couldn't control JJ's feelings, but you could control how you acted moving forward. It was time to confront the situation head-on and have an honest conversation with JJ.

As the car continued down the winding road, you focused on gathering your thoughts, determined to find the right words to express yourself without causing further harm. The guilt still lingered, but with each passing mile, a newfound strength began to grow within you.

After what seemed like forever, you pulled up to Rafe's house, a massive white mansion looming in front of you. You and Rafe got out of the car and entered into the seemingly deserted house.

As you stepped through the front door, your eyes adjusted to the dimly lit entryway. The only source of light came from a single lamp in the corner, casting shadows across Rafe's face as he shut the door behind you. "Is it just you here, still?" you asked, taking in the emptiness of the house.

"Yep. Just us again," he answered with a slight shrug, his gaze fixated on your figure. You could feel his eyes scanning up and down, taking in every detail of your appearance. Despite the lack of company, his presence made you feel safe and at ease.

"Hmm," you hummed with a nod, taking a look around the room to observe all of the empty space that the two of you could occupy, "interesting."

A mischievous smile tugged at the corners of Rafe's lips as he stepped closer to you. "Yeah?" he replied, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. The air between you crackled with anticipation, and a surge of electricity passed through the room, drawing you both together like magnets.

You could feel the weight of the unspoken tension, the unexplored desires that hung in the air. It was as if time had frozen, leaving only the two of you to navigate this newfound intimacy. Rafe's hand reached out, brushing against your cheek, his touch gentle yet commanding.

In that moment, everything else faded away—the guilt, the turmoil with JJ—it all paled in comparison to what was happening now. This connection, this undeniable chemistry that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long—it was finally coming to fruition.

Your mind spun with a mixture of emotions as Rafe's lips hovered just inches from yours. There was a hunger in his eyes, a longing that mirrored your own. The world outside ceased to exist as your breath mingled, creating an intoxicating blend of anticipation and desire.

With a soft exhale, you closed the remaining distance between you. His lips met yours in a fervent kiss, and the world exploded into a symphony of sensations. The taste of him, the warmth of his embrace, sent shockwaves of pleasure throughout your body. It was as if every nerve ending had awakened, alive with electricity.

Time became fluid as you lost yourself in the rhythm of the kiss. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the connection you shared with Rafe. The weight of the past was lifted off your shoulders, replaced by an overwhelming sense of freedom and exhilaration.

As your lips parted, both breathing heavily, Rafe's forehead rested against yours. His eyes searched yours for any sign of doubt or hesitation, but all he found was a reflection of his own longing and certainty.

You nodded, speechless as the emotions inside you swirled. "Please, Rafe, touch me," were the only words you could muster.

As Rafe's hand found its way to your waist, you leaned into him, feeling his warmth enveloping you. The chemistry between you two was undeniable, and it only seemed to intensify with each passing second. You knew that this moment had been building up for a long time, and now that it was finally happening, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and gratitude.

His fingers tracing the curve of your hip, sending a jolt of desire straight to your core. Your heart raced as your breaths became shallow, the anticipation of what was to come threatening to consume you. But it was also a sense of peace, a feeling of tranquility in the midst of this whirlwind of emotion.

"We've been waiting for this, haven't we?" Rafe asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked into his eyes, a reflection of your own thoughts, and slowly nodded. The weight of the past began to slip away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of understanding and connection. This was the moment you had been waiting for, a moment that would define the rest of your lives.

With a deep breath, Rafe's lips brushed softly against yours, triggering a surge of electricity that seemed to radiate from your core. As his passion grew, so too did the intensity of your emotions. You felt as if you could read his thoughts, as if he had somehow become a part of you.

His hand, still gently resting on your waist, moved up to your shoulder, his fingers tracing the curve of your neck. The warmth of his touch sent shivers down your spine, and as his lips moved to your neck, you felt the same jolt of desire that had taken hold of your core earlier.

"I can't get enough of you." He murmured against your neck, his voice a low rumble that sent waves of desire through your entire body. You couldn't help but look into his eyes, the intensity of his gaze matching your own. In that moment, you knew that this was more than just a physical connection. It was a deep and powerful bond, one that had been building for a lifetime.

His lips trailed down to your collarbone, his tongue flicking against your skin. You let out a small moan, your breaths becoming shallower and more ragged. He was driving you wild, making you feel things you didn't know were possible. You could feel the pulse of his desire, the raw passion that he was unleashing upon you.

His hand slid slowly down to your hip, his fingers delicately tracing the soft curve of your body. The sensation was overwhelming, sending you into a whirlwind of emotion. Each touch, each kiss, felt like a bolt of lightning, igniting a fire deep within your core. He smirked as he felt your body press into his, aching for more of him. His desires grew untamed as he sensed your greedy longing for him, fueling his own insatiable hunger.

As the intensity of the moment continued to build, so too did the heat between you and Rafe. Your lips met again, this time with a fervor that reflected the deep connection you knew you shared. Your heart was racing, your breaths shallow and rapid.

His hand moved from your hip to your thigh, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your entire being. You couldn't help but let out a small gasp, the sensation overwhelming you completely. Rafe smiled, his eyes gleaming with the same intensity as yours. He knew that this moment was more than just a physical need; it was a deep-seated desire for one another that had grown over time.

His fingers traced the curve of your hip, the pressure of his touch causing you to moan softly. You could feel the pulsating rhythm of his heart, mirroring the desire that consumed you. His fingers trailed closer and closer to your inner thigh, before brushing against your core softly, sending a jolt of electricity through your entire being.

Your hips bucked involuntarily, your body crying out for more of his touch. Rafe couldn't help but chuckle, his eyes glinting with mischievous excitement. You felt a wave of heat crash over you as the intensity of the moment grew even greater.

"Rafe please." You begged, looking straight to him with pleading eyes.

"What is it, Princess?" He whispered, his voice thick with desire.

"I need you," you gasped, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

Rafe's eyes sparkled with desire as he slowly and deliberately reached his hand down and gently caressed the sensitive area between your legs. You felt a surge of desire course through your body as his touch sent shock waves through you.

"You know I can't resist you," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

You moaned softly, feeling helpless and powerless to his touch. His fingers moved with a skill that left you breathless and craving more. Each touch, each caress was more intense than the last, building the fire inside you to a fever pitch.

Your hips bucked again, this time more insistently, as Rafe's touch became more insistent. You knew that he could feel your urgent need, and it only seemed to fuel his desire further.

"Take me," you pleaded, your voice shaking with anticipation. "I need you to take me now."

With a smirk, Rafe lifted you onto the bed, the flames of desire still burning in his eyes. He positioned himself between your legs, his erection throbbing against you.

"Are you sure, Princess?" he asked, his lips hovering over yours.

You nodded eagerly, your eyes locked onto his. In one swift movement, he entered you, driving deep into your core. Your entire being seemed to ignite with pleasure, as if the fires of passion had merged with the heat of his touch.

Rafe began to move, his rhythmic thrusts causing waves of pleasure to crash over you like a storm. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, as if you needed to be as one with him in this moment.

"Harder," you cried out, urging him on. Your breath was shallow and your body trembled as you felt him pound into you, the heat of his skin against yours driving you wild with desire.

With every thrust, Rafe's eyes seemed to darken, his gaze locked onto yours as if he were the only thing that mattered in the world. The room around you began to fade, replaced by the intense passion burning between the two of you.

In that moment, your heart thundered in your chest, matching the rhythm of his hips. Every cell in your body seemed to chant, begging for release. You arched your back, your nails digging into his shoulders as you met each thrust, each stroke of his body against yours.

The air grew thick with wanting, the scent of sweat and skin mingling as you moved together in perfect harmony. The bed creaked beneath you, struggling to contain the force of your union. You cried out again, your voice a mixture of pain and pleasure.

"Take it, baby." Rafe whispered, his voice low and gravelly. "Take all of me."

You gasped, his words sending a shockwave of desire through your body. Your eyes locked onto his, both of you caught in the throes of passion. You met him halfway, lifting your hips to meet his every thrust, your nails digging into his skin, marking him as yours.

The room seemed to spin around you, the world melting away as you sank deeper into each other. Your bodies moved as one, a perfect symphony of lust and desire. The air grew thick with the scent of your mingled sweat, a heady perfume that intoxicated you both.

As Rafe continued to thrust, the room around you began to blur, until it seemed as if you were the only ones in existence. Time lost all meaning, the world reduced to the two of you, lost in a whirlwind of passion.

You cried out once more, your voice a fierce, guttural sound that echoed through the now empty room. Rafe's eyes were wild, his body tensed as he drove into you with a fierce intensity that left you breathless.

Your body shook and trembled, the pleasure and pain melding together into one overwhelming sensation that consumed you both. Your nails dug deeper into his skin, leaving red marks that would serve as a reminder of this moment for eternity.

And as the moments stretched on, you felt his hips start to shudder and quiver, the telltale sign of his release approaching. The creaking of the bed grew louder, struggling to hold the weight of your combined passion. Your own body felt like it was on the precipice of explosion, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation.

With one final, powerful thrust, Rafe let out a guttural cry, his body shuddering as he finding his release. The sensation of him inside you was unlike anything you had ever felt before – wild, untamed, and all-consuming.

You shook beneath him, your hands clawing at his back in a desperate need to feel closer to him. You could feel his hot breath on your neck, his words barely audible as he whispered your name.

As the last of his orgasm subsided, you lay there, heart pounding in your chest, skin glowing with the heat of your passion. The room was still, save for the faint sound of your heavy breathing and his soft sighs. You both lay entwined, our breaths mingling as the afterglow washed over you.

Slowly, Rafe started to pull out of you, the lack of friction leaving you both feeling hollow. He rolled off of you, leaving you to enjoy the sensation of his body against yours for just a moment longer.

You turned onto your side, facing each other, the warmth between your legs making you slightly uncomfortable. But it was necessary. Your bodies were sticky with sweat and arousal, but the connection between you was still unbroken.

Rafe reached out, brushing the hair from your forehead. "I love you," he whispered.

You smiled, knowing that he felt the same way. "I love you too."

A sense of peace washed over you both, as the weight of your desire seemed to dissipate into the air. The room remained silent, except for the occasional creak of the bed as it struggled to hold your combined weight.

As you lay there, entwined in each other's arms, you began to feel a new emotion bubble up within you - a feeling of contentment that you had never experienced before. It was as if the intensity of the passion had given way to a profound sense of love and trust.

Rafe's fingers continued to brush soothingly across your skin, his touch as gentle as the evening breeze. You could see the love he had for you reflected in his eyes, and you knew in that moment that you would do anything to protect and cherish him.

As you drifted off to sleep, you held each other tightly, your bodies still connected in a way that felt unbreakable. In the stillness of the night, the only sound was the rhythm of each other's hearts beating as one, a testament to the bond that had formed between you. The rest of the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in a private sanctuary of love and devotion.

taglist: @ellesalazar, @champomiel, @vadinaleme, @kys4-20, @gills-lounge, @allsmilesreally7, @sublimepenguinpeach-blog, @sp00ky-spr1te, @bibliophilewednesday, @haroldpotterson, @i-love-rafe, @ellesalazar, @calmoistorm, @abundantxadorations, @fals3-g0d, @gillybear17, @oiiviagrande, @hockeybabe87, @augustlikesdeath, @wpdailyminimeta, @palmwinemami, @loxleys-blog, @ikisscline, @flyestvenustrap, @ilovesteveharrngton, @ijustwanttoreadlols, @fastlovela, @wickedlovely121, @fals3-g0d

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carionto · 8 months

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What comes down, must go up

For the vast majority of tools, specialization is the way to go. From the smallest cooking utensils to intergalactic habitation stations, when it is designed from the core out with a specific purpose in mind, it will perform exceptionally well if you stick with the plan.

Most of Humanity does not appear to agree. Now, they certainly do have and use plenty of highly advanced tools that can only function in one way (their dinosaur research space station that recently oriented itself around a Deathworld being a prime example), but a surprising number of seemingly precision tools are used in a myriad of unconventional ways.

Like, we've seen a fork used as a makeshift holder for yarn spinning, as a fishing tool after some minor modifications (bending and tying to some string), as well as in a performance after adding these things they call googly eyes. Or the infinitely complex subatomic splitter whose sole purpose is to reduce an atom from one element to a smaller one in a non-explosive way - it uses concentrated light emitters to achieve this. One Human configured it into a tattoo device.

In fact, we suspect Humans deliberately attempt to find as many uses for a single tool as possible, even when, and sometimes because (out of spite, perhaps?), another tool that does that thing already exists.

Their spacecraft are no exception. Those behemoths might even be the focus of maximizing adaptability for as many scenarios as they can possibly think of.

For starters - ALL of them are rated for atmosphere entry and capable of FOUR TIMES Earth standard gravity lift off. Including their largest planned vessels yet - the Colony Ships. The SMALLEST design will be TWENTY EIGHT KILOMETERS LONG and average height/width of SIX KILOMETERS. And they themselves don't even know how big their biggest will be, they just said:

"Eh, whatever will feel right at the time."

As for why everything HAS to be able to land AND take off even though it literally at least triples the mass of each ship, necessitating what we view as a massive waste of resources:

"If the planet turns out to be kinda... meh, the colonists will be able to pack up and try again with the same ship. C'mon, gotta think ahead with these things."

Not only that, but we also learned most are able to SUBMERGE AND WITHSTAND A KPA OF 142'000! The military grade ones are even tougher than that! They could dip inside gas giants and not be torn apart!

Wait...

[scanning Jupiter]

Please no...

[confirmation beep]

OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE! THEY'RE HIDING INSIDE A STORM!

#humans are space orcs #humanity fuck yeah #humans are deathworlders #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #carionto

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of-pale · 15 days

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Just some wild dmc scenario that struck-eth:

Vergil got behind the wheel of a car, with Nero occupying the passenger seat. Maybe they even steal the car—not so unlikely if the area is in utter chaos and demons are throwing a party everywhere. Vergil certainly didn't have many qualms about committing theft, while Nero reluctantly agreed to it. It was only when Vergil started the abandoned vehicle did a realisation strike Nero.

“Wait, you know how to drive, right?”

“Yes, I've driven a car before. I doubt they’ve changed too drastically over the years.” Vergil gripped the gear shifter and smacked it into reverse.

“Wait, wait, what's that supposed to mean? When's the last time you drove a car?”

Vergil hit the gas, backing up until they collided with a demon approaching the car from behind, the impact marked by a loud thud. The car shook as it went over its body. “Hmmmm, must be about twenty-six years, give or take.”

“And you didn't think I should be the one behind the wheel? That driver's license is waaay past its expiry.”

Vergil cracked a small smile as if he'd been told a great joke. “That assumes I had one to start with.” He harshly shifted the gears again and stomped on the gas, sending the car screeching forward. “I don't think I was old enough to obtain one even if such an option interested me.”

Vergil took a sharp turn, drifting into an alleyway and forcing the side of the car’s boot to smack into more demons. Meanwhile, Nero clung on for dear life to his seat and the dashboard to avoid bouncing his head off the side. With each passing moment, he began to grasp the gravity of his grave mistake.

Nero learned the hard way that there, in fact, did exist an even bigger menace on the road than Nico. Vergil drove like an absolute lunatic when given the chance: taking corners at the last possible second, playing bloody ping pong with every demon he could possibly hit, and drove at the highest speed the situation allowed him to get away with. To say there were many narrow misses during the wild ride would be an understatement.

Also Vergil, probably:

#dmc #devil may cry #devil may shitpost #an unlikely as all hell scenario #Vergil would probably learn to double jump properly without 'trick-up' before this happens #but the thought of Vergil driving like a lunatic cracked me up #the idea hit me with an epic drift #the wonders of making gifs in photoshop

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sprout-fics · 4 months

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Mayday Mayday Chapter One: Bravo Going Down

(Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Medic "Fix" Reader)

Part Six of Snowblind

Rating: Mature Themes Wordcount: 5.1k Tags: Slow Burn, Bad Flirting, Whump, Blood and Injury, Active Combat Scenarios, Teammates to ??? to Lovers, Angst, Banter Warnings: Crashes, Descriptions of blood and injury A/N: Special thank you to @gazs-blue-hat , @laeilaps , and @vampirekilmerfic for the research and development of this installment! and thank you to everyone still reading despite the large gap in updates.

It’s a starless night when your helicopter gets shot down.

The ride to your destination is a long one. The ever-present roar of helicopter blades is the only sound you seem to hear in the darkness of the chopper, sandwiched between two larger marines who seem to check and recheck their gear every five minutes. They chatter in small exchanges over comms, barks of laughter to cover up the anxious energy caught between the darkness of the thumping blades above. There’s a tense, heavy atmosphere in the cabin that pulses between you all, a pent-up focus prowling just inside its cage, waiting to be released into the thick of battle. You feel it as much as they do, grounded only by the tap of your fingers in a steady rhythm against your weapon, running and re-running the attack plan in your mind as the marines around you shift with taut, scarcely contained energy.

They’d sat behind you during the briefing, watching attentively as Laswell detailed the fly-by-night mission to hunt down an AQ cell holed up in the dry desert mountains. Normally such a cell would be swiftly dealt with using air support, but in this instance Laswell needed one of the majors hidden inside the mountain bunker alive for interrogation. It’s high-risk, high-reward business, and the gravity of the mission isn’t lost on you.

The marines seemed surprised to find you second in command of this mission, shifting uneasily with low tones as Laswell announced it so. You were surprised yourself at the arrangement, considering the leading CO that stood broad-shouldered and heavy-stared before them as Laswell went over the approach. With Price off-duty and nursing a sprained shoulder from the team’s last deployment, and Soap and Gaz on an assignment of their own, the mantle had fallen to you to be partnered with the team’s one and only lieutenant.

It doesn’t sit well with your fellow American troops, you can tell. They’d expected one of their own to be second in command, especially considering your medic designation. Yet when one of them had dared voice such an opinion, his fellows snickering behind your back, Ghost had barked at them a snarling, low reprimand that quickly silenced any and all objections.

Now Ghost sits across from you, legs spread wide enough that the soldiers on either side of him have to compact their spaces to allow him room. You see the way they’re a little tense, a little intimidated by his size and presence. You can hardly blame them. Ghost has been quiet aside from a few orders for the entire ride so far, and you’re not sure whether to be grateful or unsettled by his silence.

Things have been...odd since you got back.

You’d been given all of a week to settle at base before the team was tasked with a flurry of missions- all short and swift deployments that left you with plenty of leftover energy to spend on the rest of the team. You’d been concerned about integrating yourself back into the group after such a long stint away, but fortunately the team had accepted you back with open arms. It had taken time to catch up with the most recent intel, and even then Price had insisted on putting you through your paces with training and other exercises to ensure your skills were still fresh. With Soap and Gaz at your side, it was a relatively easy task to tackle the list of training exercises your CO had tasked you with, buoyed by the boy-ish, lighthearted energy of the other two sergeants.

To test your revitalized skillset, Price often designated you to Ghost’s squad during deployments, trusting his second in command to sharply and swiftly correct any blunders on your part- of which there had mercifully been few. More than that, you seemed to flourish under the command of Ghost, quickly ceding to orders and swift with your deliverance. It had garnered you several rare instances of praise from the Brit, spoken quietly and perfunctory over comms, quick enough that you had to pause and ensure you had heard him right. When you had offered bits of banter over the radio, Ghost had surprisingly indulged in your humor, leaving you grinning even during ex-fil and almost giddy with the oddly fluttering feeling in your chest.

As if that wasn’t odd in itself, Ghost seemed...different than you remember off the field. More than once you’d caught him staring at you across the rec room between missions, dark eyes boring into you as if you were something to be studied. He sometimes sought you out himself to relay a message as opposed to using the team’s designated chat log, offering the excuse that he’d been nearby anyways. His gaze always managed to catch yours when you entered a room, and despite the man never smiling, you always saw the glimmer of recognition there as you caught his stare, as if he was anticipating your arrival.

You told yourself he was just looking out for you, as his duty as your superior, but the truth of it felt...more than that. Ghost was never one to go out of his way for his teammates, always offering the bare minimum of what was required of him to keep the task-force functioning. You know his past, mysterious and intriguing as it is, prevented him from truly bonding with the rest of the team. To him you were all co-workers, soldiers, but not brothers in the way you thought of them.

Yet it was Ghost who tossed you an extra water bottle after training, who had nodded to the weights someone stashed in the gym when you looked for them, who had given you his full attention as you stood before him and checklisted your gear for him before mission, who looked out for you at the bar and escorted you back to the barracks on the night of your return...

It made you wonder if there was a man behind the mask after all.

You dance around each other in fleeting glances and quiet words, and the meaning of it all is contained in the distance between you. You never touch, never dare to scrape against the soot-dark form of him, but you feel the presence of him at your back all the same. Watching, guarding, a sentinel that you can’t find yourself to venture far from. You lay awake at night ruminating over the way he says your name, ‘Fix’ like it’s his mother-tongue, a word so inherent to his language that it makes you feel like you were born to belong there against his lips.

Now, in the darkness of the helicopter, Ghost basks in the wash of red light overhead. His arms are crossed, weapon at rest between his legs as he awaits the slow downturn of motion that signals your approach. When you catch his eyes, the Brit tilts his head at you, heavy helmet and night vision goggles shifting expectantly.

You smile at him a little nervously, feeling the return of taut anticipation flowing through your veins as the hour of your hunt inevitably draws closer.

“Good night for a hunt, eh LT?” You venture cautiously, feeling one of the marines beside you tense. Nobody has dared to say a word to Ghost for the entire journey so far, and instantly all the attention in the cabin seems to land on you and your hesitant, clever smile.

Ghost blinks at you, doesn’t move an inch from where he’s seated. In the dim, red light of the hold you can barely make out his half-lidded, lazy stare as he regards you. Unbothered, unlike the men around him, he huffs a small sound before replying.

“Can’t see shit on a night like this.” Is all he offers brusquely. It’s enough.

“Well that’s what night vision is for. Anyone ever tell you you look good in green, sir?”

Shit.

You instantly clamp your mouth shut, but it’s too late. The words you just spoke hang heavy in the space between you, and the silence that follows is deafening. You wince internally, struggling to contain your expression as a dozen eyes regard you- gawking at your brazen flirtation you just offered to your fucking CO.

You want to crawl six feet under.

You can make out the whites of Ghost’s eyes in the darkness, surprised and taken aback. It takes him a moment to collect himself, eyes hardening and words steely.

“Spend less time gawking and more time watching the rest of your squad, sergeant.” Ghost tells you pointedly, though it’s without true malice. You contain a cringe at the reprimand, wanting nothing more than to groan into your hands at your own foolishness.

Yet your mouth seems to have a mind of its own, because before you can stop yourself, you reply with a “Gawking isn’t the word I’d use, LT.”

The private beside you sucks in a deep, trembling breath.

“Is that right?” Ghost’s eyes are suddenly sharp as they pin you to where you sit. “What word would you use, then, sergeant?”

Christ alive, just send you home in a body bag.

You feel your mouth open and close a few times, desperately trying to find the words, any words with which to salvage the rapidly spiraling conversation. You should really shut up, offer a murmured apology and keep yourself silent for the rest of the mission, but the eyes of the other soldiers stare unblinkingly at you as you finally find your voice.

“Looking...respectfully? Sir.” You manage, a little strangled.

The marine on the other side of you snorts. Ghost glares at him, and the man clears his throat before avoiding the Brit’s gaze.

“’Respectful’ isn’t the word I’d use for your behavior right now.” Ghost warns, low and dark, and you sit up straighter just by his tone alone. “I’d suggest you find a way to sort that mouth of yours before we drop in.”

“Speaking of-” A different voice interrupts, and even the pilot seems a little perturbed by your conversation. “Approaching target. Five minutes out.”

That seems to divert everyone’s attention well away from you and towards the mission at hand. Mercifully, Ghost draws the attention of everyone on board as he stands and clutches at the ceiling to steady his massive form.

“Listen up.” He barks, a dozen eyes looking towards the source of the deep, growling Manchester accent as it repeats the name of the asset you’re after. “That’s our target, needed alive. You know your orders. Keep this op clean, understood? No fucking body bags.”

A chorus of ‘Yes Sir!’s joins your own voice. Ghost seems to take up all the space from floor to ceiling as he nods, begins again-

A sound catches your attention, a distant fizzle that you manage to hear above Ghost’s booming voice. You open your mouth, a warning on your lips-

“RPG!!” The co-pilot yells just as the alarm blares, and suddenly the heli tilts, launching you violently against your straps as the pilot takes evasive maneuvers. The cabin descends into a chaotic flurry of voices as the marines react, trying to process suddenly being under enemy fire.

What happens next takes only seconds.

The sudden change of axis has Ghost stumble, one hand clenched in a white knuckle grip against the ceiling. You can hear the rocket above the growing alarm just as it whooshes past the hull, missing the chopper by mere feet. The blades whine above you, straining as the pilots try to right the heli, grunting over the comms. Garbled radio traffic is drowned out by the groan of the chopper, and the sudden gasp that tears from your own throat as you instinctively suck in air.

Yet just as it seems the chopper rights itself, you hear another sound outside. The two pilots' voices drown out each other as a second alarm screeches, and you manage to catch Ghost’s shocked eyes just as the sound of the incoming missile reaches a shrieking whistle. You open your mouth to holler at him to get back in his seat, and you see him move in the same direction, finding his balance and stretching out the hand not attached to the ceiling-

“Deploying flares-!”

“Hang on!!”

The RPG catches the flares on the outside of the hull, but the impact is close enough it throws the heli sideways, sending the bird into a tailspin. You watch in horror as Ghost instantly loses the balance he’s collected, hand slipping from the ceiling as he’s hurled up into the overhead so hard you hear a crack even past the roar of the straining blades. If it’s your voice that screams for him, you aren’t sure, but instantly you’re reaching for your straps, fumbling in an attempt to reach him. Your hands shake, breathing shallow and rapid, world spinning endlessly as the pilots struggle to contain the bird into a controlled descent. There’s voices yelling above the claxon, screaming orders, but yours is silent, heart hammering as you try desperately to remember how to breathe.

Ghost slides limply across the floor, head lolling.

You yell as you reach for him, fingers barely scraping his helmet and night vision goggles, unable to catch a grip. Yet the two marines across from you holler over the comms, one set of hands and then the other managing to find the edges of Ghost’s tac vest and hauling him with tremendous effort up into his seat across from you. Just as they manage to secure him, the pilot’s voice once again yells over the comms, barely audible as the helicopter groans and shrieks and the alarms blare deafening in your ears. Everything is spinning, turning on a dizzying axis you can’t find the balance to. You’re not sure which way is up, trying vainly to track the ground growing closer through the window next to Ghost’s slouched form.

“Mayday, mayday, this is Bravo going down-”

“EVERYONE BRACE!!”

You shut your eyes, hands in a death grip on your seat straps. Your jaw clenches so hard you can feel your teeth grinding, but the sound is obliterated by the catastrophic groan of the heli around you. There’s no time to do anything else except pray, and you try to remember the hymns and blessings taught to you by your mother all that time ago- having lost them when faced with a God that didn’t care about the suffering and the damned.

Fuck. You think for a half-heartbeat, the G-force of the spin forcing your head against the wall before you manage to tuck it forward. Blood rushes in your ears, and you catch a glimpse of Ghost before you, body leaning as the inertia drags at him. I never got to tell him-

The impact is catastrophic.

It forces all the air up from the bottom of your lungs in a wheezing gasp, tossing you violently against your seat straps. The force of it digs sharply against your ribs, painful and horrific as your entire body is hurled about like a rag-doll. You have no doubt if you weren’t secured you’d go flying against the interior of the bird, likely breaking your neck and leaving your body to rot in the dry desert sand. The bird groans desperately around you, tilting dangerously so your feet tilt up towards your head, the blades thumping at the sand once, twice, before getting caught and going still. Even then, the chopper slides another dozen meters, threatening to roll over completely before you at last come to a shuddering stop.

It’s automatic when you start counting in your head. One, two, three- Your training instinctively kicks in. Wait for the debris to settle, check for fuel leaks-

As soon as you reach five you fumble for your buckle, clawing at it in an attempt to free yourself as your voice rises over the groans and wheezing gasps of the men around you. It takes a few attempts to get enough air into your lungs to yell to your team, feeling your chest struggle for oxygen as your heart races up into your throat.

“Report.” You manage, voice cracking with grit and sand just as your hands find your buckle, one arm bracing yourself on the wall behind and below you. The lights flicker. In the darkness of the desert, the stars obscured, you can scarcely make out the bulky figures of your comrades in the cabin- similarly trying to free themselves. The chopper seems to have rolled onto its side somehow, as you find yourself with your legs higher than your head, the forms of the marines around you all but dangling from their straps from where the ceiling should be. There’s a brunt, singed metal type of smell that instantly has your gut coil with the instinct to go, move, clear out-

A few breathless murmurs, and after a moment another voice in the darkness.

“We’re good here, sarg!”

You breathe a sigh of relief at that, until-

A groan, loud and low, somewhere towards the ramp.

“I-it’s Johnson! His helmet is off!”

“LT is unresponsive!”

“I think the pilots are dead!”

Fuck.

You don’t stop to consider the possibilities of what that means. Fear claws at your chest, and you give yourself a breath to stubbornly swallow it down. You know that panic is a death sentence in this situation, and losing your head means endangering not only yourself, but the rest of your team.

You run through your options as fast as you can, knowing every second could be a grain of sand in a rapidly draining hourglass.

The helicopter can’t fly. It’s dead. The comms may still work, and no doubt the crash alarm has signaled the base about the nature of the situation. Yet it’s unclear if the chopper is sound. You can’t smell smoke yet, but you know the mangled mess of metal may change at any moment, sparking with fire and consuming you all in one bright blaze. Even if that’s not the case, it doesn’t solve the fact that the RPGs had to have come from somewhere nearby. The window to evacuate shortens by the second, and so you raise your voice in the darkness, drawing the attention of the others.

“Everyone out!” You bark, finally unclasping your buckle and feeling gravity drag you down, gear and all. “Check your squad, make sure nobody is left behind!”

It takes effort with the weight of your supplies to force yourself up above the seats, feeling bodies around you do the same. Fortunately the wreckage feels stable, even if the tremble in your limbs has yet to settle. Your chest doesn’t seem to expand enough to suck in all the air you need as you fumble in the darkness, eyes drawn to the gaping hole where the tail of the helicopter used to be.

Your hand lands on the closest arm you can reach, feeling the other soldier startled in the flickering darkness. “You.” You manage, throat dry. “Help me get the pilots.”

“Yes ma’am!”

You precariously balance as you turn, catching the slumped figure of Ghost out of the corner of your eye and watching with blessed relief as he raises his head a few inches.

Thank God. You think with an exhale of utter gratitude. He’s alive.

Yet the task at hand remains, and as Ghost is balanced between the shoulders of two marines, scarcely lucid, you turn towards the flight controls, a younger corporal just behind you.

There’s shattered glass at the windshield, and it allows the nighttime wind to breeze inside, sand spilling over the cracked panels and monitors. A red light flickers erratically overhead, illuminating the limp forms of the two pilots. It’s not an easy undertaking to wrestle free the two unresponsive men- one of them sticky with what you assume is blood as you haul them towards the exit carved by your landing. You’re not even sure they’re alive, but you’ll be damned if you leave them after their miraculous mid-air recovery that likely saved the rest of you.

“Damn good pilot, Smith.” The marine grunts beside you as he shoulders the pilot and makes towards the exit. “Sure hope this sonofabitch made it.”

You silently wish the same, hauling the co-pilot by his straps backwards with you, nearly tumbling twice before mercifully making it towards the hatch someone has kicked free. You can hear garbled words over the radio, and in the blinking light you see a small shower of sparks as the dashboard short-circuits. Thankfully, it doesn’t catch into flame, and you at last make it onto gritty desert sand with the limp form of the co-pilot atop you.

Two soldiers on either side of you manage to hoist him up and allow you to scramble to your feet. It’s the first time you’re able to take stock of the situation now that you’re free, heart thumping against your ribs and form trembling from the adrenaline still pumping fresh through your veins.

Good God.

The crash looks like something out of a grotesque action film. The tail lays feet away from the rest of the bird, one of the blades sticking straight up into the night sky and the over bent in a mangled wreck only feet away from you. There’s bits of metal and debris strewn around you, smoking and stinking as they’re half buried in the sand.

It’s nothing less than a miracle that you’re standing, bruised and battered as you are.

Twelve of you total, including the pilots. Four of you are standing, another kneeling beside the prone forms of the injured and two more helping to rest the co-pilot next to them. You check yourself, cataloging the various scrapes and bruises you can feel under your gear, and managing a prayer of thanks when you don’t immediately feel anything broken or bleeding.

and in your second breath-

“Where’s the lieutenant?”

“Over here ma’am!”

You turn on a swivel, neatly avoiding the debris as you find Ghost sat halfway up, eyes bleary but focusing upon seeing you.

“Fix.” He offers groggily, and the breathless sound of relief that leaves you is far from subtle. It takes you two steps to kneel before him, a wobbly smile on your face.

“Chopper went down, LT.” You convey quietly.

Ghost gives you a scathing look. No shit. It seems to offer. Were it not for the dire circumstances, you might have even laughed at the utter annoyance in his eyes.

“What’s our status?” He bites, hands limp at his sides and making no motion to inspect himself just yet.

You look at the chopper, rolled halfway on its side, one of the rotors bent and buried deep into the sand. It’s clear it isn’t going to fly again.

“We’re stranded. Emergency beacon went up as soon as the bird went down, but it likely will be a few hours before we see any sort of response- and that’s if they decide to fly despite the RPGs in the area.”

You suck in a breath then, steadying yourself. The truth of the situation begins to wash over you with cold, deathly dread.

“We’re on our own.”

There’s movement behind you, and you glance over your shoulder to where a few of the men have gathered, looking to Ghost for orders. You look to him as well, trying to track his eyes in the darkness. He looks...unsteady. You can tell he’s still trying to get his bearings after blacking out, and briefly it makes you wonder just how severe his concussion is.

“You solid?” You ask him quietly, trying not to draw too much attention from the men hovering anxiously around you both.

“Fine.” Ghost grits, but makes no effort to stand just yet.

Liar.

“What’s our move, Ghost?” One of the other soldiers asks, eyes darting between you to the mission’s designated CO.

Before Ghost can answer, you stand, drawing the attention of everyone including Ghost.

“I want a perimeter around the crash.” You state, settling yourself where you stand. “No doubt the team that crashed us saw us go down. They’re headed our way. Head on a swivel. Let’s make sure we see them before they’re on top of us. Move the wounded to whatever cover you can find. I’ll handle triage. Salvage whatever supplies you can from the helo, but if you smell smoke or fuel you let me know as soon as you do, understood?”

There’s a beat of silence from the men gathered around you, some of them shifting nervously, their eyes flitting between you and Ghost, who looks up at you in a mixture of shock and some sort of irritation you can’t place.

“I said understood?” You bark, making several of the men jump.

“Yes ma’am!”

“Good. Now you, and you-” You point out two men at the back of the small huddle. “You’re with me. I need your assist for triage. You two, I want to know what supplies we have left in the helo. Dawson, I want you to radio base and give them a report of our status. See if you can find answers about how long until we see a rescue team. The rest of you, I want you on the perimeter. Now.”

It’s only after the small huddle has dispersed that you turn to Ghost, nearly flinching at the ire there in his eyes.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, sergeant?” He seethes, and you have to swallow down the sudden bout of fright at his tone- dark and furious.

Your hands shake. It’s not rare to encounter Ghost in an annoyed or irritated mood, but what this is right now, the bright blaze of your lieutenant's eyes in the desert darkness, has a warning of danger zipping down your spine and settling low and heavy in your stomach.

No doubt he doesn’t appreciate you overriding him, injured as he is. Ghost is used to calling the shots on missions, and you know it’s a comfortable position for him, not having to rely on others' judgment to ensure his own survival. His own instincts pave the way for his men, allowing them to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. In control, it means he doesn't question his superiors and if they truly have his survival in their interests.

It stings, admittedly, that he doesn’t seem to have that faith in you to make a call when he’s concussed as he is, his eyes still trying to focus on your form above him. You thought by now you might have earned that.

Perhaps you’re wrong about that.

“I’m sorry sir.” You offer at last. “I’m not trying to override your command, but you’re injured-”

“I told you I’m fine.” Ghost snarls, shifting and trying to get his legs under him. It’s a wobbly sort of maneuver, and you resist the urge to aid him, knowing he’d only shrug you off with a growl.

“Ghost.” You manage tightly, trying to swallow down the hurt of his anger. “You’re concussed.”

Ghost pauses then, still glaring at you, but manages to raise himself up to a stand anyways. There’s a beat between you before Ghost is suddenly leaning into your space. You have to tilt your head up to keep eye contact with his higher stature, setting your jaw and trying not to flinch as his eyes burn down into your own.

“I did not give you permission to take command of this mission.” He growls, low and deadly. The vibration of it hums through you, settles low in your gut as a threat that you try vainly to ignore. There’s a natural instinct inside you to automatically defer to Ghost despite his injury, the fact that his pupils are blown completely wide and you think you can see the white edge of his mask tint with something dark and slick that oozes from his head.

You want to tell him you outrank him when it comes to the health and safety of the men, that your status as a medic means you can assess him if he isn’t of sound operational mind. You know his call wouldn’t have varied drastically from your own. Yet you also know that if Ghost perceives you to be a question to his authority the second he gets injured, it means hell for you in any future missions you may be on with him.

It means it might erase any trust you’ve managed to gain from him after all this time.

Ghost towers over you, hands clenched at his sides. You keep your gaze locked on his, trying to maintain a brave face despite the grave warning in his stare.

“Fall in line, sergeant.” He growls, voice bone deep and drumming dark into your skull.

You shouldn’t.

You do.

“Apologies, sir.” You offer in deference as you finally avert your gaze, feeling something liquid hot burn under your skin at the action. “Your orders.”

Ghost seems to relax a bit, shoulders unwinding as he lets out a long, slow exhale. Your own air still feels caught tightly in your chest, your heartbeat thumping like a battered thing between your ribs.

Ghost studies you, and even without meeting his gaze you can tell his stare hasn’t ventured from your form. What he seems to be searching for is unclear, and you restrain the urge to look back up at him, allowing him to see the bitterness in your eyes. He doesn’t need to see how much his lack of faith in you carves something deep and wounded into your skin, a failure in yourself to prove yourself to the man you admire the most.

“Handle triage. I’ll check the perimeter.” He orders abruptly, voice more even now that you’ve ceded to his authority. You nod mutely, not meeting his eyes, feeling a wash of shame and anger warm your face as you avoid his stare.

You turn from him in the direction of the injured men when his voice catches you again.

“Fix.”

You pause, not turning.

Ghost is silent at your back. He seems to be weighing his words, debating with himself. The desert breeze whispers at the bare skin of your neck where his gaze seems to be resting. The flickering red light from the helicopter washes crimson over your form.

“Good call.” Is all he offers, and you blink, lips parting in surprise as he brushes past you brusquely. The moment is gone in an instant as he moves towards the marines with their night vision trained on the horizon, broad and dark against the starless night sky.

Alone in his shadow you wonder why, despite his anger, his words sounded almost trusting.

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Fic Tag: Shadow and Bone

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #Simon ghost riley x oc #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x ofc #reader insert #cod x reader #fic: shadow and bone #oc: fix #fic: snowblind

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kekaki-cupcakes · 6 months

Note

Hi luv! May I req for Leo falling for a mischievous (cat-like personality) demigo (maybe ares, idk) after she beats him while sparring so he continuously asks her to spar just to spend more time together (and maybe she knows it and just plays along, maybe tells him she’ll go on a date with him once he beats her?). Idk this was just an idea, thought I got. Do not feel pressured or anything obvs!

Heya this has been in my inbox for a while and I finally got a good idea lol cause I don't wanna be posting half assed WIP's. [this is also combined with a request for Leo Valdez x daughter of Athena reader I got a while ago btw]

Enjoy <3

love is stronger then everything [except Clarrise, of course] ---Leo V x Daughter of Athena reader

»»————-　★　————-««

Leo was a mastermind.

Like, obviously you were the daughter of Athena, but he was the one behind it all. He was just… so smart. It was unbelievable sometimes. Not to be big headed or anything, he was just the most intelligent person in the room.

Well, in this scenario, it wasn’t the room, it was the arena. And that’s about where his cunning brain cells decided to sit on the bench and do their nails with Piper.

He’d tell them off later, if he ever survived the sharp eyed sharp edged girl in front of him who was somehow holding a war axe made of solid imperial gold over her shoulder like it was nothing. The sight of your arms distracted him of his incoming death momentarily, but then you just had to open your mouth. “

“Valdez, are you gonna spar with me, or was the six step official challenge at breakfast with a disco ball and three tonnes of strawberries for nothing?”

“Four tonnes, actually,” he managed to squeak out, and then shifted his grip on the sword he’d borrowed from Jake, who’d only laughed in his face when Leo told him he’d challenged you.

Judging by the way you fiddled with your camp beads necklace and then swung the smooth golden axe stained with something remarkably similar to human blood, Jake was right. Leo gulped and stepped back, ready to scramble out of the way and clang his too big sword against the edges of the axe he only just realized were sharp enough to cut through bone.

You seemed to pity him as well, which Leo didn’t appreciate, but at least you gave him a few extra seconds to scramble out of the way.

A moment later there was sand in his eyes churned up by your sneakers, the ones with little green string snakes as laces. He vaguely remembered snakes being a symbol of Athena, only that thought was scrapped when he had to step back to avoid having his skull split in half.

Piper cheered sarcastically and passed Jason a leftover strawberry from this morning’s events.

You spun around and the axe made a crater in the sawdust covered ground. Leo turned and half heartedly swung his hammer at your shoulder, but you dipped back and knocked it out of his hands in less then a second, leaving him defenseless.

Leo launched himself backwards and felt his shoe skid on the ground, sawdust billowing up into his vision as gravity decided to ruin his day, and his dignity.

He was contemplating just falling asleep right then and there, when a gray sliver appeared in front of him. He had to cross his eyes to identify the metal poking his nose as the tip of your war axe. Leo just got comfy on the ground, resting his hands beneath his head as you glared.

Apparently you weren’t satisfied with the early defeat, gray eyes narrowed as you snapped. “What on Olympus was that, Valdez?”

“Me fighting?” He asked hopefully, squinting up as the sun angled itself behind you. He brushed away the thought that it made you look a bit like an angel, despite the frown on your face and the weapon at his throat.

“Well you aren’t any good at it, so don’t bother,” you said, hooking the axe over your shoulder and marching off. “I have to go help Beth with the capture the flag plans.”

Leo huffed, blowing a strand of his curly brown hair out of his face and grinning up at the roof, which swirled a little. He might’ve bumped his head a little too hard, now that he thought about it.

Then another face swam in front of him and Piper popped a bubble that smelt vaguely of grapes. She looked towards where you’d disappeared out the arena’s swinging double doors. “What in the ever loving fucknuggets was that, Valdez?”

“I liked their version better,” Leo grumbled, and sat up slowly, feeling his bones groan internally at him. “And it’s not my fault their fit. And strong. ANd have a huge weapon. And pretty eyes. And-”

“And a nice ass?”

“Yep, especially in those camo pan- why are you looking at their ass?” Leo asked suspiciously. Taking a hand from Piper to get up properly. He stretched his arms above his head and tried to stop thinking about your butt. It didn’t really work very well, and then his thoughts skipped along to your thighs and the really cool scar along one and he missed half of what Jason was saying in between the smile he was trying to hide.

That didn’t matter very much though, because Leo was struck with the best idea in the history of children born of the literal ideas god. Well, maybe that was Athena, not Hephestus, but your parents were a problem for later. Way later. Like when you’d decided Leo was more than just a rock stuck in your shoe.

That was something he could work on though.

He just had to impress you so much that you’d agree to go out with him. Building something cool would be the immediate option, but he built cool things everyday. It wasn’t easy, per-say, but it wasn’t a date-worthy achievement.

Piper snapped her fingers in front of his face and Leo jerked his head back, “huh? Sorry I was just thinking…”

“About what? Finally giving up on-”

“Imma single handedly win capture the flag!”

»»————-　★　————-««

You handed out the last of the helmets, blue plumes dotting the crowd of demigods jostling around and yelling about lice and how their butterfly clips wouldn’t fit underneath the bronze.

You chose to ignore those ones and turned back to the little canvas tent someone had dragged out from Bunker 9 to set up base in, even though it couldn’t be used during the actual game. You weren’t actually sure what the point of it was, but Clarrise deemed it necessary, and you decided not to argue with her, in the interest of living.

The Athena cabin had managed to swoop in and ally with the Ares cabin before Connor got there, so you managed to rein in the help of Butch and his siblings [which meant that the Red team would have quite a few problems involving pegasi droppings in the hours to come], the two twins of Nike, the Dionysus and Hebe kids, as well as the smattering of Aphrodite kids that were ready to get blood under their perfectly done nails. A few of them seemed too happy about that prospect, but Drew had heart shaped arrows and Charmspeak, so you ignored the fact Lacey was singing about chopping off heads.

Annabeth propped her sneakers up on the table, smudging mud on the map of the forest as she did so, to tie up her laces. “So, we’ve got puddles of pegasi shit under the leaves, I asked Holly and Laurel who could make the most nets so we’ll have enough to trap most of the Hermes cabin under by the time we start, and then Clarrise and her lot can just heavily maim the rest.”

“Nice,” you noted, and pushed the coloured pins for each demigod wiping blue warpaint across their cheeks around the map to their places. “We’re against Will’s dickwits, so they’ll do that thing and keep the sun behind them to blind everyone on our team.”

Annabeth fiddled with her camp necklace and glared at the map. “ And what are we supposed to do to counter that? Ask Apollo to take the day off??

“Start handing out sunglasses.”

Someone dragged a bucking gray pegasi through the opening to the canvas tent and chaos broke out, Butch yelling orders at a group of Dionysus kids who began feeding the freaked out mare shiraz.

You turned away before you were lumped with the task of dealing with them, and reached for your axe. A sticky note fell off, the yellow paper floating to the ground.

Hi hi so if i win capture the flag by myself then will you go out with me also i cant ask you this in person because jasons teaching me how to use a sword and im about to run out of sticky note and now ive forgotten what i was trying to say

The note ended there, and you frowned, trying to ignore the twitch at your lips when you turned the greasy crinkled paper over.

right yeah this is leo by the way you probably already figured that out cause no one else is smart enough to beat all of camp to go out with you the flying horse distraction was my idea too by the way im a genius you should definitely go out with me okay now im out of pa

“Who’s the person?”

You nearly decapitated Drew in that moment. You lowered your axe and shoved the note in the back of your pocket that you only just remembered wasn’t there, courtesy of the armor you’d donned. “What are you talking about?”

“The love note,” she insisted with a curious smirk, lipgloss shining. “They sounded pretty excited and now you’re making that face oh my god you actually like them back!”

“Do not!” You snapped back, tightening your shoulder guard and hefting your bloodied axe over you shoulder. The pegasi was led out of the tent as you shooed Drew in the same direction. “Now go back to your station, we’re starting in five.”

She squinted at you for a second, then her eyes widened as he jaw dropped. “Leo!”

You blinked, wrinkling your nose. “Okay how did you even-”

“Seeya later!” Drew called over her shoulder, skipping away with Butch to find her section of the woods to patrol, her assigned heart shaped sunglasses slipping down her nose.

You narrowed your eyes at her retreating figure, but then one of Clarisse's sisters was wondering if the no killing rule had changed in the last four minutes and you were promptly distracted.

»»————-　★　————-««

“Why don’t you just run along there and turn Travis into a toddler for me?” You asked a son of Hebe who nodded solemnly and disappeared into the trees. Light dappled the leaves on the ground and once you’d ordered around the rest of the soldiers in training, the bellowing horn sounded.

A tense silence filled the woods, no one daring to make the first move and startle the spies out of their trees and the runners from their starting places. You pushed the cat eyed sunglasses up your nose and adjusted your sweaty grip on the axe, which must have weighed as much as the Hebe boy you’d just sent on his way.

Blue streaked the sky behind the clouds, but the blue you were concerned about fluttered peacefully in the wind from where the flag had been nestled in Zeus’s fist.

From what you’d planned, the Nike twins should be hiding in the two pine trees in font of you that had grown on either side of the track you knew the red team would take, nets between them ready to trap the enemy. Drew was placed behind you with her bow and arrows, ready to take down anyone that made it past Holly and Laurel.

And if the lucky little fucker made it any further, you had your axe ready.

The rest of your team, save the Ares kids bordering the river, who were ready to maim but not kill, were causing a distraction that included a lot of grapevines and a reenactment of the Hamilton Musical [the second half was to be acted out at the campfire later that night]. It was sure to distract the Apollo cabin while Annabeth donned her blue Yankees hat and snuck through.

The only way it could go wrong at this point, is if a certain fluffy haired pointy eared son of Hephestus went through with his sticky note proposition and burned down the entire woods.

Considering the fact he’d challenged you to a duel four times this week, you wouldn’t be surprised. Not that you minded. His concentrating face was sort of cute, especially when he stuck his tongue out a little and that time you’d pinned him to the sawdust covered ground you’d realized he actually had a few little freckles along his nose.

And he really liked strawberries. That you could admire.

Okay, maybe you looked forward to whatever proposition he’d set up at breakfast each day, but it mainly had to do with the presents. And definitely not that grin he’d get when you agreed.

If he won this game of capture the flag, which was impossible for one demigod anyway, and you did go out with him, you’d get to see that smile times one thousand. It sort of made you want him to win.

Then you shook the thought from your helmet cladden head. Your team was going to win this, and you’d stab Leo yourself to do so.

Lightly, though.

He still had that crackly laugh you could place from across the dining pavilion, you couldn’t kill him. It made your brain melt for a moment, which wasn’t something a daughter of Athena needed. But, he was a certified genius. Maybe that would even it out.

»»————-　★　————-««

“Where the fuck is Drew?” You yelled into the forest around you, but only the crickets and startled squawking birds answered. Metal clanged and the crickets were silenced when your Axe thudded against a tree, handle first.

Austin smirked, and his bow knocked into your shoulder hard enough to leave a bruise you could already feel forming.

You ducked another blow and stumbled back, stumbling a tight ring around the sun of Apollo to get back to your weapon, glancing around the clearing as you did so. Holly and Laurel were nowhere to be seen, and there were certainly no nets to help you out in the one on one ambush.

You’d been waiting around for some action when suddenly there was a lot but still not enough, because apparently everyone on the blue team had decided they’d rather fall asleep in their stations than help you. Even without them you could hold up your own, grabbing your axe and swinging it around at Austin when he came back for seconds. The arrow in his hand seemed less scary once his bow was in two splintered pieces at your feet.

He stepped back, face falling, and the daisies crushed underfoot sprung back into their slightly crumpled places when he backed away properly, turning to where the blue flag was still untouched on the top of Zeus’s fist.

You paused, lowering the axe in confusion once he called out to nothing, “Oi! Move it loverboy, I’m running out of time!”

Then you froze, because of course somehow, against all odds, a panting Leo was clambering up the highest point with the red flag in one tightly closed hand and a second later he was holding the blue one above his head victoriously as well, a stupidly wide grin on his cute face.

He let out a yelp as pebbles began to slide around his feet but then you couldn’t see him anymore, pushed to the back of the crowd by a stampede of yelling demigods brandishing weapons.

It took you a second to realize they were cheers and not war cries [the difference was hard to make out most of the time], so you weaved through some Hermes kids who were chatting animatedly and a Demeter girl with a stump where her arm had been. Will rushed along behind you to her side once you’d gotten past both teams of the now over capture the flag game.

“What the fuck is this?” You yelled up at Leo, who sent you a double thumbs up and then began hopping down the pile of boulders, the flags now held with his crooked teeth.

You squinted up at him, watching his green army jacket get caught on an overhanging branch and then when he jumped down finally, you were there to cross your arms and glare at him.

“Sup?” he smirked, holding his hands behind his back and rocking on his feet. “Did you get my note?”

Apparently he guessed your answer through your facial expression and then held up the flags like an offering. You ignored a fatal sounding screech from an Aphrodite boy in the distance as Leo chewed his lip. “So…. I won!”

“And how, exactly?”

Leo glanced to the side, and you followed his gaze to a smirking daughter of Aphrodite, who’s hoop earrings shined with blood that definitely wasn’t hers, judging from Drew’s satisfied expression. He then pulled out another crumpled up sticky note from his jacket, which was stained with something dark. He read out in a stilted tone, “I have to make a flamethrower, a chariot with poison shooting arrows, a two real life hoverboards, about thirty pairs of water, lava, and acid proof headphones, and a few jetpacks.”

“Right,” you muttered, tilting your head at Leo.

He blinked obliviously at you and tucked away his extensive list, probably not able to hear you speak over the yelling crowds that bustled around carrying bandages and broken weapons, already busying themselves with the aftermath of the set up blood-bath.

“It was worth it,” he shrugged, “but I’ll be stuck in bunker nine for the rest of the my life.”

“Maybe you can take a day off.” You unfolded your arms, resigned to the fact all of Camp Halfblood was about to witness this. Then you stepped forwards a little and leant in to whisper in his pointed ear. “...Y’know, for our date.”

Leo blinked.

“Someone get the Leo extinguisher!” A Hebe kid yelled, and there was a general uproar of chaos from everyone but you weren’t really paying attention because Leo had patted down his flaming torso quickly, only that didn’t change the color of his face back to normal.

He narrowed his eyes, but the grin had never faded and you could see his fingers tapping along his thighs a thousand miles an hour. “You serious?”

You nodded.

“DID YA HEAR THAT?” He yelled at the crowd of teenagers, cupping his mouth with a scarred hand, “I GOT A HOT DATE YALL!”

“Don’t make me regret it,” you muttered back, rolling your eyes, but when Leo smiled up at you you knew you’d never regret it, so instead you just smiled back, shoving your hands in your pockets while Piper started screaming from Jason’s shoulders.

Leo clapped his hands eagerly, “great, now you gotta carry me.”

“That’s cringe.”

“I’m being serious,” he said and held his arms up so you could grab him bridal style. You paused for a moment and then resigned yourself to the fact this might be the rest of your life. It wasn’t too bad, you realized, when Leo wrapped his arms around your neck and pointed in the direction of Will triumphantly. “Forward, sexy steed!”

“One, if you ever call me that again, I will literally throw you off a cliff, and two, why do we have to get to WIll?” You asked as you carried him through the crowd in the direction of the stressed out blonde anyway.

“Cause Clarrise stabbed me in exchange for letting me win.”

»»————-　★　————-««

#pjo fandom #pjo #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #leovaldez #leo valdez #leo valdez x you #Leo Valdez x child of Hermes #Leo Valdez x reader #leo valdez x y/n #but no use of y/n dont worry lol #inktober #autumn #spooky season #halloween #inktober fic #pjo fic

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starfxkr · 2 months

Note

do you write angst?? if so reader watching trapjj get arrested would be heartbreaking, especially if she knows he’s going away for a while

I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH!!

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

when the feds bust down your door it was like your world slowed and stopped on its axis. you hoped and prayed that this would never happen, that jj would get out the streets before this exact scenario happened but here you were- staring down guns and beaming lights as they yanked him off the couch to put him in cuffs.

"ay get that fuckin gun out my girl's face! she didn't do shit!" he looked panicked and felt worse, heart beating in his throat as he watched them push you against the wall.

"wha-what's goin on?" you were gasping for air, clutching at your chest as you fought the urge to vomit.

"we've had an eye on your little boyfriend for a while. caught 'im moving some serious weight," they hand you a search warrant and you collapse to the floor. jj told you he was done, that he was gonna get out the game and settle down with you and you believed him.

maybe a part of himself believed it too but he just had to hit one last lick.

they escorted him yelling, promising everything was gonna be okay and he was gonna take care of you and to just sit tight while he worked some things out.

everything the officers said to you went in one ear and out the other as the gravity of the situation hit you. he could easily be gone for six years at least.

and you had no idea what you would do without him.

#✨.txt #jj maybank prompt #trap!jj

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swifty-fox · 2 months

Text

Sci-Fi Horror AU

idk kinda word vomited this tonight after trying a new strain. I will be continuing it into a full story but not sure when

Entry Log 2043

-DateStamp: 14th July 5399

-Location: DeepSpace Sector G8677-65HG-76789_I

-Personnel File: Maj. J.C. Egan (Zoot Suit)

Recording_

“This is Major John Egan, callsign ZootSuit, aboard the vessel M’lle ZigZag. Today is the dawn of my final day of exploration, putting an end to a sixteen-month foray into DeepSpace. Initial findings reveal little of note. A few developing stars and planets; an asteroid belt; and a total of six planets, two of which I will be recommending for a second more thorough exploration of due to planets possibly location being within the ‘Goldilocks Zone.’ I look forward to whiskey, solid food and to breathe air that isn’t recycled from a fucking can. I can’t wait to fuck my husband-”

John pauses.

“Ah, computer erase the last seven words. Reasoning: Irrelevant to mission. I will be entering Hyperspace within the hour, once I hit proper trajectory to slingshot around the primary sun.”

He taps the record button to end the log, carefully labeling the file and placing it in a folder with the few thousand other logs he’d recorded over the last year and a half. A verified library of data, observations and the occasional love-letter. A year and a half of research; one of the longest expeditions ever undertaken by any pilot. Considered bold by some and risky by far more. Deep space played with people's minds, the long stretches of isolation broken up only by Hypersleep creating the perfect recipe for a light case of mental instability.John had trained for this, ran through thousands of psychological tests and millions of scenarios. There was not a person in the universe more capable of this task.

John rubs his jaw, feeling the scratchy beard and spins out of his pilot's chair, leaving the computer to guide the craft.

Moving about the cramped space of the craft, built to maximize storage space; and to minimize comfort in his opinion, he begins securing anything not already safely battened down. He shaves in the cubicle sized bathroom, splashes water across his face and ignores the swirling flickers of color and light around the edges of his sight. Jaw smooth save for the now carefully trimmed mustache - just how Gale liked- he makes his way to the tail of the spacecraft to run an inventory check on his samples. Moon rocks and space dust and asteroid dirt. Anything the computer pinged or John spotted in his long hours gazing out into the empty void of space.

He checks a few straps, making sure they’re tension tight before hitting the override on the artificial gravity. He holds the intentionally placed handle as he slowly lifts from the metal walkway. Giving himself several seconds to adjust he uses the similarly placed handles along the wall to pull himself back over to the pilot's chair. A second check on the navigation systems; the mathematical calculations for his trip around the sun and through hyperspace. Much of the process was left up to the computer these days, but John hadn’t survived twenty one missions - one of the highest in the force save for a handful - by not being thorough.

Finding nothing out of the ordinary he switches all the lights off until his world is lit only by the approaching Red Giant, bathing everything a warm red. System lights blink soothingly as he takes a moment to take in the vast wonder in front of him. Years now it had been, and it still never failed to leave him breathless.

“Computer, begin countdown to Hyperspace entry, one minute. Beginning LCHS procedure, eta one minute.”

John pulls himself to the economically sized bunk, slotting into the space that barely left room for him to stretch and roll over, strapping himself down.

“32…31…Thirty Second To HyperJump’’ the computer announces.

Bucky presses two fingers to his lips and then to the photograph taped above his bed. Folded so many times the crease lines were white and soft to the touch, Gale’s face gazed back at him. Caught unawares he was smiling soft and curving, glancing somewhere behind the camera. Laughing at something John had said, trying to pretend that he wasn’t. His cheek was rested in one elegant hand, gold ring glinting in the sunlight; a carbon match to the one on John’s own finger.

“Be seeing you soon Buck.” John adjusts himself against the organic synthetic fibers of the mattress below him.

Fifteen seconds the computer chirps warningly. John always thought she got a little testy in those last few moments, as if scolding an unruly child.

John reaches for the pouch beside his temple, withdrawing the last pill from the sheathe. Soft baby blue and the size of a quarter, he’d been issued exactly sixty-five of them upon the start of his expedition. Enough to get him all the way to the furthest reaches of the known galaxy in the shortest amount of time. Seven more consecutive jumps than had been previously attempted. Anything more than thirty and Federal Law was a minimum six months rest and recuperation before attempting further jumps. Risks for brain bleeds, heart attacks and Z-Sum sleep went up with every extra jump. John had stopped only once, stretching to forty five jumps before stopping at the nearest C-Class Planet Simulator outpost to rest. It had been his last chance to speak to Gale before he exited the reach of all communications. Eight months since he had seen that smile in any medium other than this photo.

A quiet, tense conversation. Buck hadn’t wanted him to go; knew better than to stop him.

“You’ll be careful out there John?” Buck was the only one to never call him Bucky. To the public he was Egan, Major if they were being formal. In private it was John, always John. His husband was strange like that.

“More careful than a cat in a rainstorm.”

Buck hums and squints his eyes at him. Stress sat in heavy lines at the corners of his lips, between his brows and around his temples. It had been eight months since John had kissed that mouth, tasted Gale’s sweet noises on his tongue.

“You have enough LCHS’s to get through? None of them are compromised?”

“Buck.” John sighs, “Come on.”

Gale runs a hand through his hair, sucks his bottom lip between his teeth “I know you know what you’re doing...” His deep voice rumbled through the comms, staticky and pale in comparison to the in person thing.

“It’s just your job.” John finishes, grinning at Bucks self-amused shrug. “I checked them all twice. No leakage, no discoloration.”

“I love you.”

It never failed to make John’s spine tingle, hearing those words spoken so easily and effortlessly. The Gale he had gone to flight school with was a reserved quiet thing; John was better off trying to space-walk without a suit than pull an ounce of vulnerability from the other man. The years had softened him - John had softened him.

“I love you too sweetheart. I’ll see you in eight months.”

Ten seconds.

John startles, the pill slipping from his fingers and drifting in the gloom. He curses and reaches for it, straining against the straps holding him down. His steady beating heart kicks into panic mode.

For centuries mankind had struggled to break out of the tiny confines of their miniscule corner of the universe. Confined by things like time-space and the limits of the human life span versus the distance needed to travel to discover anything new. They’d languished away certain of it was their destiny to never walk amongst the stars. Until HyperSpace had been discovered. The miniscule pocket between the folded pages of space-time. A way to jump through matter from one corner of the galaxy to another - and further. It blew the doors wide open on space exploration. They could go anywhere, journey past the point of creation they could find it.

The only thing holding them back was the side effects of HyperSpace. It didn’t seem to pair so well with the cranial contents of human beings. The tendency to turn ones brain to pure soup was a drawback that left researchers, scientists and theorists all stumped. SMall jumps were manageable, with migraines and dizziness a much more risk-acceptable outcome. But in order for them to make any real progress they would need to find a solution,

LCHS. Lysergic Cerebral Hibernation Synthesizer.

The miracle drug and the solution to their dilemma. Developed initially from LSD the drug soothed the more vulnerable edges of one's brain and put the subject in such a deep sleep it took a reversal injection to bring one back to the waking world. It was used recreationally now as well; a way of opening one's mind to the world beyond the physical dimensions. Where light and color and feeling weren’t senses but physical states of being. It kept their pilots down for the jump; kept them asleep to the journey home.

Without it. Well. Nobody had made a waking Hyperjump in as long as John could remember, at least had done it and lived.

Five seconds.

John hisses through clenched teeth, straining for that little blue pill, technology his husband had dedicated his life to. Logically they both knew it was unlikely Gale had made the exact LCHS’s that sustained John, but he knew the other man pretended he did either way. The level of care put into each new batch as if it was made for his beloved specially.

Three seconds.

John risks freeing one of his shoulders from the straps so he can get better reach. “Come on” he hisses. Closes his fingers around the dosage.

Two seconds.

John lays back, shoves his shoulder back into the strap so quickly the velcro scrapes his skin raw. He lifts the pill to his mouth, pressing past his lips.

One second.

Entering Hyperspace.

Gale. John thinks.

His brain turns to mush.

#swiftywrites #2buck #buck x bucky #clegan.#mota #master of the air

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mysticstronomy · 8 months

Text

CAN WE LAND ON THE JUPITER??

Blog#338

Saturday, October 7th, 2023

Welcome back,

Is it possible to stand on the surface of Jupiter??. We know Jupiter has lots of clouds and a thick atmosphere. But if you went deep enough, and assuming you were not crushed by atmospheric pressure or the planet’s gravity, would you find land that you could stand on? To answer that question, we first need to peek under the clouds to get a feel for what these planets are like.

Floating in the clouds of the Solar System’s giants are oceans.

As you descend into the atmosphere of the outer planets, two things happen: It gets hotter, and the pressure rises. Jupiter and Saturn are gas giants made of mostly hydrogen and helium. At a certain depth, the hydrogen, along with perhaps some liquid helium, compresses into an ocean. Jupiter’s ocean might be the largest in the Solar System, and it is so pressurized that the hydrogen loses its electrons, turning it into liquid metal.

As it moves, this ocean creates an electrical current that gives Jupiter a magnetic field 15 times the size of the Sun. It is the largest magnetic field of any planet in the Solar System.

Uranus and Neptune might also have oceans, this time of liquid water. In addition to hydrogen and helium, these icy giants have high percentages of water and ice. While the idea is still controversial, some scientists believe that at a certain depth this water becomes liquid, and it might be mixed at the molecular level with minerals.

This liquid might be super-heated above water’s boiling point, but high pressures in the clouds above keep it from boiling away.

For 200 years, we have known about a storm on Jupiter called the Great Red Spot. The Earth could fit inside the Spot, and the storm extends about 350 kilometers down into the planet. (The tallest recorded thunderstorms on Earth are about 20 km tall.) At these depths, the temperature is too high for water to condense, meaning that storms on Jupiter operate very differently than those on Earth.

The fastest winds in the Solar System, meanwhile, belong to Neptune, and they rage at 2,000 km per hour. This speed can be explained in part by the atmosphere’s great shear, which is created by different latitude bands rotating at their own speeds. In addition, the cloud tops of Neptune are colder than -200°C, but the interior of the planet blazes at 5,100°C. This temperature difference contributes to the high winds.

Then there is Saturn’s weird hexagon, a six-sided cloud band over its north pole made by a polar jet stream. The shape is unique in the Solar System, and it might be formed by different layers rotating at different speeds.

Uranus and Neptune might have some other remarkable attributes. For example, there might be oceans and rainstorms of liquid diamonds on Uranus and Neptune. Here on Earth, scientists found that with enough heat and pressure, diamonds can liquefy without becoming graphite.

While we have not observed liquid diamonds directly on Uranus and Neptune, the pressure and temperature have created the right conditions. Diamond rains may also happen on Saturn and Jupiter. There might be another peculiar kind of rain on Saturn. One of its rings rains material back down to the planet, and it contains a mixture of carbon dioxide, butane, propane, ammonia, and water.

Now, we finally can circle back to the original question: Can you stand on the surface of Jupiter or any of these giants? Probably not.

Saturn’s clouds move at different speeds depending on latitude. Clouds near the poles move slower than those at the equator. This differential rotation is seen to a depth of 10,000 km, or one-sixth of the way into the planet. At Saturn’s core, which is about 12 to 20 times the size of Earth, there is a concentration of heavy elements.

In between Saturn’s core and its clouds, we can imagine a couple of scenarios.

One consists of layers, and it comes with a clear definition between land and atmosphere. Many previous models of Saturn’s interior imagined such distinct layers, but there is another possibility: The core of Saturn becomes rocky only gradually, as hydrogen and helium slowly mix with the heavier elements in the core. Such a model is often referred to as a “fuzzy core.”

Six years ago, the Cassini space probe ended its mission and dropped through the clouds of Saturn. As it crashed into the planet, it sent out gravitational data that has been analyzed by scientists to determine the properties of the planet’s interior, and the observations favor a fuzzy core model. A similar core is suspected on Jupiter, while Uranus and Neptune may or may not have them. It is difficult to know for sure until we have more detailed observations of these planets.

Originally published on bigthink.com

COMING UP!!

(Wednesday, October 11th, 2023)

"CAN WE HARNESS THE ENERGY OF A BLACK HOLE??"

#astronomy #outer space #alternate universe #astrophysics #universe #spacecraft #white universe #space #parallel universe #astrophotography

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bchan95 · 7 months

Text

Tension Pt. 3

Author's note: sorry for the delay, I hope you enjoy.

Part 1 Part 2

I stared at him for another moment, my hand pressed against my lip. He just... kissed me out of the blue? He just told me that he was jealous of the waiter hitting on me and then he kissed me. The club was already smoke-heavy and dim, but the gravity of this situation was making it appear pitch black.

Nauseous thoughts overtaking my senses, I felt my hand touch a hard surface in front of me. I tried to look up but I felt my knees start to give out underneath me. Everything was starting to turn a light grey, my palms were sweating, my heart was racing, my-

"Y/N, Y/N talk to me."

I snapped back up to attention meeting his face in the bright spotlight behind him. All of a sudden everything was where it was before the spinning. Chan was staring back at me with wide eyes, his hands bracing my upper arms tightly.

"Are you back?"

I bit down on my lip and nodded. Although the chao that floated around my mind for a moment there might have actually been more cathartic if I was being honest. I nodded again. Not sure if that one was for me or for him.

"Yeah," my throat was still dry, making every word even more painful than it already was. "I'm here, can you, can you get me a glass of water please."

He nodded quickly and sprinted away from me and toward the bar. Changbin still stood at the counter. He nodded at Chan, glancing at me quickly before turning to grab a glass of water. I watched the whole interaction on the balls of my toes. As Chan turned back toward me my heart jumped into my stomach again out of fear of reacting too much or too little to any of his movements. He holds the glass out to me and has a slight smile on his face. Those wide doe eyes didn't match the cheer, pleading with me in a single glance.

"Thank you," I forced a smile as I quickly drank.

Chan watched my every movement. I could feel his eyes on me no matter what I did. I took a sip of water, and his eyes followed as if I were to slip up and drop the glass on my face. I couldn't help but feel a little unnerved by the attention. My best friend wasn't always the most cautious with me. He always cared deeply, but knew I could hold my own. So I had to say when Chan grabbed my glass out of my hand as I moved to place it on the counter, I almost jumped back at the touch.

"God, I'm sorry," Chan said in a panic, shifting a little further away from me. "I'm doing everything wrong I'm sorry."

Now I had to giggle. I was usually the one to overthink. Chan hadn't messaged me in six hours. He died. Chan didn't wish me a happy birthday right at midnight. He hates me. It was nice to be the other person in this scenario for once. For him to treat me like porcelain, worried that any move I might make would be the last one.

But I should probably put him out of his misery. I smirked and shook my head at him. Sitting back down on the wooden bar stool, I placed my head in my hand and looked up at him. He leaned his head to the side, his eyebrows scrunched as he watched my lips turn upward.

"Chan sit down my god, you're making me more anxious like that."

He finally popped a bit of a smile as he sat back down. We sat in silence for another moment. All I could hear was the urgency of my breath as I drank my water and Chan's toe-tapping against the floorboards. I wondered what he was thinking. If the brevity of the kiss was overtaking his mind too. In a good way. I was becoming dangerous with this new power. His eyes over me like a watchful shadow as I made my next decision.

"So."

We had another stare-off. This was getting ridiculous. I had to laugh in frustration so I wouldn't burst out of my every waking thought. Why did you kiss me? Did you only kiss me because of Changbin? How long have you wanted to kiss me? Are you going to try to kiss me again?

What if I wanted you to kiss me again?

I sighed "I'm not mad, you know?"

I think I almost saw Chan jump out of his chair at with that knowledge. His whole body reacted, feet lifting off the ground, hands moving off the counter and all of his facial features rising. He looked like a kid who had just told his family was going to Disney. Cute. To see him so elated. And about me.

"You aren't?" He questioned, eyes focused on me

I looked at his face, the faint freckles painted across his cheeks were more present tonight without the makeup. His soft brown eyes looked richer with the lack of light beaming on him.

No, Y/N.

No time to get distracted now. I shook off the warm look and focused back on my glass as I spoke.

"Well, not not mad. More confused than anything."

I made eye contact with him again and my heart almost leaped out of my chest as I watched him lean forward, eyebrows pulled to the middle of his face as he nodded at me.

"I understand, I crossed the line."

I chuckled under my breath "Chan, you don't just dance with another girl all night, and then tell me you want me." I spun the glass around to distract from all the buzzing in my brain as I spoke. "That's extremely confusing."

"Y/N, I really am sorry."

"Did you even mean it?" my features pinched together as I kept my eyes on the condensation on the glass.

That's when I finally heard him move. I panicked, looking up and expecting him to be leaving the bar. That I was wrong once again. It was the heat of the moment and he didn't mean anything by it really and...

Then I looked up and saw that he simply pulled his chair closer to me. His eye color is even more crisp auburn from closer up. Shinier too. Like when I hold back a cry around him. I was going to make my lip raw at this point from gnawing on it but it was the only thing grounding me as I challenged myself to keep talking.

"Y/N.."

I interrupt him, shaking my head "Chan it's okay if you didn't I just-"

He taps my knee softly, bringing my words to a halt.

"Can I finish my thought?"

I nod silently, teeth gripping the skin beneath it.

"I meant it... when I said I was jealous," He started, rubbing the back of his neck. "I also meant it when I kissed you. I wanted to do that."

I just kept nodding, my eyes bouncing around his features, worried that any sustained content would burn me on impact. Chan sighs loudly again, tapping on the bartop next to us. Close enough for our hands to touch. I wish he felt brave again.

"Oh."

That's when I heard it. Chan's laugh. For the first time in like an hour, I hear that squeaky giggle. That's enough for my head to pop back up quickly in bewilderment.

"What," I feel a smile pop across my face as I look at his more relaxed state.

"Just.... a little bit of a letdown for a reaction for me spilling my guts here, y/n."

I frowned, rolling my eyes. "Telling me that you were jealous and wanted to kiss me really isn't spilling your guts, Bang. We've watched enough romantic comedies together for you to know this."

He returned the gesture, rolling his eyes back at me as he placed his whisky glass back up to his lips. He squinted at the impact of the liquid before placing it back down in front of him and turning to me.

"Fine," he leaned in closer to me, I could smell honey and danger again. "You want a real proclamation of love?"

I freeze and don't say anything. Is he really going to do it? He's not really going to...

I watch Chan lick his lips and roll back his shoulders before opening his mouth once again.

"Y/N," his hand is on my knee again. "I wanted to kiss you tonight. I've wanted to kiss you every night that I've known you."

I feel my cheeks warm as the words leave his lips. Suddenly the ground looks really nice and I'm watching my feet dangle a few inches from the floor as I listen. I hear him giggle again.

"I know I'm your stupid best friend."

I raised my head and went to open my mouth to protest his statement but he placed a finger to my lips, holding eye contact for a second before dropping it.

"I am," he grins even bigger. "But although I'm stupid and I make a lot of mistakes... I know the best decision in my life was bringing you into it. You make me better. Every day you make me better. I've tried to keep it in the back of my mind that I'm okay with just that. You are in my life as a best friend. But... I think the cat's out of the bag now."

He grabs my hand and I roll my eyes at him again.

"Cat's out of the bag? What are you, 50?"

He nods "I am, just ask my bandmates."

I giggle thinking of his band. Rowdy group of guys all younger than us that never let us forget it. I like the way his thumb is drawing circles on the top of my hand. I bite my lips to stop myself from giggling again at such a slight touch.

"I know that I messed up tonight. In more ways than one," He nodded at me. "I'm sorry I left you on your birthday. I'm sorry I was with some other girl all night. I'm sorry I sprung all of this on you right now."

He sighed, bringing my hand up to kiss it. Goosebumps rose up on my arms.

"But I do care about you... a lot," He smirked. "And not just as a best friend but as... whatever this is."

I join him in the giggling, looking up at him wide-eyed. He slowly interwines our hands, letting them swing between us.

"You don't have to answer now... but I would love to do this properly some time."

"You mean..." I feel my heart racing again.

"I mean I want to take you out for real. I want to do this right. I want you."

I gasp slightly, feeling the heat rise on my face again

"I.... think I'd like that."

"Yeah?" He smirks.

I scrunch my nose "Don't start with me."

"Hey guys we're back! Wait whoa...."

We both jolt out of whatever daze we were in collectively and look up at Lia who's wide-eyed, staring directly at our hands.

Taglist: @dontletyourmemebedreams, @salfetkablog, @saranghwae23

#bang chan x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids #bangchan x y/n #bang chan x oc

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