Tetya!

Just hours ago, you were alongside the 141, cleaning up and wiping out an enemy base, a typical Tuesday on a summer afternoon. You should've known things would go downhill with how smoothly it was all going. Even Price commented on it with an air of wariness and suspicion. After all, it was a saying that if the fight starts getting too easy, then it's an ambush. And an ambush it was. You want to tell yourself that it was nothing, easy as pie compared to what you've been through. You wanted to say that it was a success and you turned the tables on your enemies. You wanted to say that it ended within a matter of minutes and that you were on your way back to base with your boys, ready for a night of banter at the pub. You'd join Ghost in watching Soap and Gaz try their hand at poker, taking a shot each time Soap's dogshit luck lost him another couple of euros while Price would pry Roach from having another cocktail and piss himself ('it was one time!' he slurs).

But instead, you're here. Locked in a room, bag over your head, tied to a chair, a stereotypical hostage situation but that didn't make it any less tolerable. Though having a potato sack over your head was nowhere near as embarrassing as the reason why you were captured. You tried your best to hold onto the jeep, honestly, you did. Until some ankle-biter decided to latch onto you and sink his teeth into your flesh, causing your grip to loosen and send you tumbling into the dirt. Your bodies slammed into the ground, kicking up dust and your opponent taking most of the fall damage for you. How thoughtful.

Seething at the audacity he had to chomp on your leg like some feral mutt, you gave him a piece of your mind and made sure he'd never bite another ankle again. His friends caught up the moment you were done. They dragged you back down to the coarse dirt and sand of the earth, making you taste and choke on dust. You looked at the lifeless figure in the sand, briefly wondering if you'd be wishing you were him before a bag was slipped over your head and tied like a collar. It didn't help that the sand on the roof of your mouth combined with your ineffective attempts to ration your breathing made for a burn worse than any hard liquor down your throat. Thrashing and shouting like a madman, you cursed them like some teenager who discovered swearing as they tossed you into the back of a truck, rolling you forth with the heels of their boots. Not your finest moment.

Once you were loaded and the rest of them climbed on, the truck shot forward without slowing down for a second, taking you to your own personal hell for the next few days. Knowing the 141, they were probably at the safehouse, planning their next move to retrieve you. In the time between interrogations and routine attempts to break you, you could imagine Soap and Roach pacing around the room, Ghost brandishing a knife with a dark look in his eyes, and Price looming over a map and pulling up contacts with Gaz at his side. While you hated to burden them with your own mistakes, thinking about them all gnawing their teeth in comical anger at your expense brought you momentary comfort, eliciting a small chuckle.

"Something funny?" Much to your ire, all your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of several people shuffling into the room. You could only expect so much privacy in a place like this. The man who spoke up seemed to carry himself like a leader, considering how he spoke above all others and you could hear him carrying out demands every now and then, checking up on you as if he actually gave a shit. And currently, he was on the top of your "to kill" list, along with every other cunt in this prison.

"What'll it be today, more screaming or more silence? You know, you can only stay quiet for so long." He sighed. Judging by the sound of metal screeching on concrete, he pulled up a front-row seat. With a single yank, you were again temporarily freed of the confines of the bag on your face, glaring at the man with a look of ferocity that seemed as if it were etched on your face permanently. His clothes were disturbingly clean-cut and polished despite the blood he spilled for the past few days. Your blood he spilled. "Come now... you know you'll only make things more difficult. Face it, kid, they're not coming, it's been days."

When you felt gloved fingers touch your jaw you snapped, pulling away like an animal restrained by a leash. Your captor let out a taunting "Oooh", and your skin crawled at how he heckled and laughed like some adolescent boy poking a rabid animal with a stick through its cage. "So it bites."

"Fuck you." You rasped.

"And it talks." The humiliation of their nonchalant attitudes made you seethe, you knew it was a tactic to get under your skin and you just wouldn't have it, turning your head away from the men.

"Uh-uh, eyes on me. How is such a fresh thing like you out fighting wars with men like them?" He hummed, gripping your jaw with a strength that took you by surprise and had you wincing. Even though his hands were gloved, it felt as if he were trying to dig into your skin. With no other choice, you were forced to look into his eyes, the pyres of unimaginable anger burning in yours.

However, it was then that you felt it. Something was off. Something was horribly off about him. The several times he'd come in here to either coax you with gentle words or have his men beat you within an inch of your life, he either had some faux kindness or gleeful malice painted across his face. But this time, his eyes were alight with slimy delight. You hated it, Hated how it made you feel small, cornered, pulling on your leash so that you couldn't be yanked from the one place that made you feel safe. You hated how it didn't feel like he was trying to get under your skin, or sink into your bones but instead your mind as if to violate it. You hated how it seemed like he had something more in mind, something that you couldn't predict like a kick to the ribs or a carefully worded reassurance that you'd be in "good hands". It was the one thing you felt like you had control over, knowing what was next, and now you didn't.

With a wave of his hand, his men all filed out of the room, leaving just him and you alone. One came back with a bowl in their hands and you felt yourself doubt your worries. Were you already beginning to lose it in here? "Hungry?" He smiled, taking the bowl and dismissing the soldier. It looked and smelled like a stew, potatoes, and beef, not scraps of stale bread or lukewarm, half-empty beer cans.

"I asked them to make something special today for you, isn't that nice? I suppose even someone like you has a taste for the finer things in life and wouldn't say yes to leftovers." No answer came but it was to be expected as he mixed the stew with a spoon. Your eyes were trained on his face instead, expecting some kind of strings attached. He entertained that expectation by—to your disgust—spitting into the stew, mixing it more, and bringing up a spoonful to your face. "Consider that the cost of being so picky. Open wide, soldier. Surely you won't make a fuss again, now will you?"

There was a pause, you leaned forward, lips ghosting the tip of the spoon before you roughly shoved his chair away from you with your boot. The bowl fell from his hands onto the ground, pooling between the two of you. He could go to hell with his stupid fucking soup.

He let out a scowl of disapproval, his self-satisfied smirk replaced with disgust and irritation like a parent to their troublemaking child. Fine with you, you didn't need that asshole's approval. He stood, grabbing a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiping his hands and the small splatters on his uniform. "Should've known better that the government's pets would act like such animals. I gave you a chance, I tried to make this easy for you." He snarled, tossing his handkerchief aside and grabbing you by the collar, "But no, you just had to be a fucking brat, huh? Fine, be one. I can work with that. Either way, you'll be put in your place soon enough."

Before you could comprehend what he was implying, he slashed the ropes that binded you to your chair with a combat knife and shoved you to the floor, your head throbbing as it hit concrete, along with the rest of your aching muscles. Vision blurred, you sat up and tried to make out what he was doing, falling back when he roughly grabbed your hair and shoved your head back down into the ground. Like an alarm, every single flight or fight response went off in your body and yet you couldn't figure out what he was trying, you just knew that this was something worse and that you were a fool to let your guard down for a single second.

A twisted smile broke across his lips, "You know, you have a very lovely voice. You sing the loveliest songs."

Your brows furrowed, confusion flashing across your face until you let out a yelp of pain when he pressed into your stomach, already bruised from previous matters. He let out a sigh that made you shudder and you felt bile creep up your throat, moving your face to the side in fear that you'd choke on it.

"Eyes. On. Me." He snapped, his voice sounding so much louder than it actually was, his hand twisting your jaw back to look up at him while his fingers proceeded to dig themselves into whatever spots got you hissing and squirming away. That's all it took for your resolve to break, the blaze in your eyes fizzling out and replace with genuine fear and utter shock as you watched him straddle you and stare with a piercing gaze that trapped you. It forced your attention to stay on him, daring you to look anywhere else but him when that was all you could focus on. Him.

You couldn't even scream, paralyzed when you heard the sound of metal clinking against metal and the brushing of fabric, raw horror setting itself alight in your bones at how he loomed over you. At that moment, you swore you could see the devil itself laughing, cackling, mocking you in his eyes.

It was like you were seven again.

Scared, cornered in your room because you swore, you swore and sobbed and cried that you saw it, a monster in your closet. A dark, shadowy figure that'd taunt you merely with its existence and prayed on your downfall, drinking the fat tears you spilled and listening to your high-pitched cries as if they were music, eyes that you couldn't see but they could see you.

Others tried to convince you that it wasn't real, opened the doors, and closed them again, showing that there was nothing but cleanly folded clothes and hung-up jackets lined neatly along a rack. Every time, you'd feel a little more silly about your fears but anxious that they'd come back for more.

At some point, you nearly forgot about the monster altogether. It ceased to exist in your closet, but never your mind.

"Damn it, what now?!"

Pulled back into the present, you heard muffled speech with loud, obtrusive noises and more screaming and cursing from the man above you. He was faced with the still-closed door, talking to a soldier behind it. Instead of trying to catch up with what happened, your mind raced to its defensive instincts. Finding the spoon dropped from earlier, you reached for it with a strained grunt which caught his attention. Yet with a swift grab and thrust of your hand, you jammed the blunt handle of the spoon into his throat and screamed at him, your vocal cords ripping in deliriously satisfying pain.

Barely giving him a second to let out a final gasp for air, you flipped him over underneath you and yanked the spoon out, blood erupting out of the gash. Fire ignited in your veins and you balled your fists, giving him a taste of the rage of a caged beast with nothing left to lose, just the desperation to survive for more. It was a symphony of grotesque crunches of bone and ligament, and you yelled, screamed, and cursed with each impact at him, at the entire organization, at a godless world for making you live through hell. A pitiful yet gruesomely satisfying attempt to reclaim what sanity and control you lost in that room.

Blood and flesh coated your fingers like warm syrup, and you were sure your knuckles were split. Crimson red was a good look on a sterile uniform, you thought to yourself. The sight of your work made you realize it wasn't the devil in his eyes was laughing at you, but rather its reflection from over your shoulder, still gleefully singing and squealing with delight as it watched you indulge in pure, unadulterated wrath. Its tail wrapped around your neck, strangling you with delirium and bloodthirst, guiding you in your ear as you beat an already dead man to a pulp.

Taking a stand, its whispers remained in your ear, praising you and yet you felt sick looking at what was left of what you had done, of what was left of the man's face. His blood pooled around his shoulders, mixing with the stew into an unholy concoction, evidence that was a testimony to your suffering and to your sin. Using his combat knife, you cut through the ropes around your wrists, skin scratched raw and bleeding. Without a second glance, you took his gun and left the room.

To this day, you tell yourself that you crawled out of hell that day.

"Any signs of the hostage?" Gaz shouted over comms, holding off a room of enemies alongside Price.

The moment they had all seen your fingers slip from the jeep and saw you tumble away that afternoon was the moment they knew they wouldn't be coming back to base for a long time. Roach had watched in despair as he was so damn close to grabbing your hand, swearing that had he'd been a little quicker, you wouldn't be here. Soap had yelled for Price to go back but Gaz and Ghost both knew his hand wasn't going to turn that wheel anytime soon. All of them knew. They couldn't turn back, and you wouldn't have wanted them to either, not unless the entire team and mission were to be jeopardized. However, that didn't stop them from doing whatever it takes to get you back safe again.

"Negative." Ghost answered over the line, standing with Soap in a hallway painted with the blood of the opposition, bodies scattered like lifeless bags of flesh with no greater purpose than to rot.

"I have eyes on them, they escaped from captivity. Currently pursuing them!" Roach responded. He'd seen your figure run down a hall at an alarming speed, and when he followed you, he had a glimpse of the room and the spectacle you left behind, "The leader is terminated, too. Jesus, can someone get over here?! They're gunning it for the west exit and I can barely keep up!"

You were in fact, bolting for the exits, panicking the more you got lost and running so fast that you probably could've broken a record on base. Distant gunfire and blasts snapped at your heels like a pack of dogs, reminding you that if you didn't keep running, you'd be dead, you'd be torn apart and beaten just like their leader and fed to the wolves. Boots trampled the ground behind you like drums of death, the yelling of men ringing in your ears, a requiem to the inevitable. Run, just run, it's all you could do in this frenzied state. If you didn't you'd be helpless, you'd be put down like a rabid fucking animal. Run, even if your bones shook from the pain, even if flames licked at your torn muscles, even if it meant dying of exhaustion because anything was better than dying at the hands of those animals.

At last, you found the light of an exit, finally an escape from this asylum. Your heart felt lighter when sunlight kissed your skin only to be weighed down by getting slammed into, grabbed into a relentless hold. You screeched, shrieked, snapped, and sneered while the voices seemed relieved, almost happy at your capture.

"Don't fucking touch me-!" You screamed with animosity, practically frothing at the mouth, "Don't fucking touch me I'll fucking kill you! I'll fucking—"

"Friendly, friendly!"

Still growling under your breath, confusion flickered over your eyes. Why did it sound like... like...

"Captain?"

"You're safe kid," Price panted, as if he'd been running to chase you. He was chasing you. In all your hysteria, you hadn't realized that the group had been running after you for past minute or so, trying to call for you, get you to slow down. The only thing that worked was to just grab to and hopefully knock some sense into you or knock you out. "It's just us, see?"

Your gaze softened, taking in the features of the man before you. Despite the crossfire and fighting, somehow he still had such a kind look on him, puppy eyes that pitied you and kept you grounded. Turning your head, you saw the rest of the men watching you in concern, all tired but overjoyed nonetheless that you were finally back.

You were safe.

It was like a weight finally lifted off your chest, a pile of restrained misery and relief washing over you, and you wept without a thought to pride. Price whispered your name in a way that felt so comfortingly familiar, tucking your head into his shoulder and letting you muffle your sobs into his uniform. It was painful to hear your wails, the relief and the instability shaking off of you in waves. A part of you expected to be scolded, to be teased for messing up so badly with a simple mistake as letting go of the jeep but they didn't.

"You're in good hands,"

"We've got them covered,"

"They can't hurt you anymore, love."

"Do you have any major injuries?" Gaz asked, but you couldn't say a thing, clinging onto Price's jacket and crying like you were four years old and found by your parents after getting lost. Slowly and gently, Price pulled you from him to examine you, and that's when he saw it. It didn't take long for the others to notice as well. Your clothes were torn and belt undone. While no physical harm was visible, knowing what happened was enough to make Price tick.

"Roach, get them to the car and give them some spares ASAP. Everyone else with me, we're cleaning out the place." Everyone else had the same dark look in their eyes, one that sent shivers down your spine but encouraged you once more you were secure now. While Roach escorted you away, you peeked back to see them disappear back into the building. After you changed in the car, you could hear the distant gunfire and screams, shutting your eyes closed tight, making an effort to drown out the thoughts.

"You okay?" Roach frowned. he had apologized to you a dozen times over on your way to the car and explained all that happened after you were taken, which you appreciated him for and insisted it wasn't his fault. But he was sweet and stubborn, bandaging your wounds and telling you he'd make it up by giving you his dessert for the next month, a gesture that made you smile for once in a while.

"Yeah, yeah just... hope they're safe." You breathed, sinking into your seat with the rest of your thoughts. Though you cried once more, quietly this time and on Roach's shoulder. He was cautious not to initiate too much physical contact, holding your hand only when you asked for it.

The building was silent, not a single soul left to be reaped by the 141. They all regrouped around a body that was beaten beyond belief, to the point where the face was unrecognizable. Regardless, they knew who it was.

Gaz broke the silence, "You think they did this?" They all looked at each other, not wanting to imagine what happened to lead to this point.

Ghost nodded, a confirmation of something they already knew but wanted to mutually agree on. "No one else could've made this much of a bloody mess. HQ's going to have a field day with this. Can't say that he didn't have it coming for him, though."

"And well deserved, too." Soap spat. Price continued to look down on the figure on the floor without any thought to it. Not anger, disappointment, or spite, just disregard. Headquarters would be interested to hear what happened, but he could care less about the report. All that mattered was that loose ends were tied.

Minutes later, the men all piled up in the car again, setting for the road back. You woke from your half-asleep state, rubbing your eyes. You were met with a soft smile from Soap, who ruffled your hair. "You alright there, sleepin' beauty?"

Humming in acknowledgment, you nodded and glanced out the window to see the road whizzing by, the building growing smaller and smaller in the distance. Some dingy warehouse. So that was the hellhole you were stuck in for a near week.

"Dinnae think 'bout it too much," He followed your gaze and nudged your boot with his, "When we said they can't hurt ye anymore, we meant it."

"Yeah," You quietly mumbled, leaning back on Roach, who had fallen asleep and leaned on Gaz for support. "Can smell it on you guys."

That got a rumbling laugh out of Soap and even a little headshake from Ghost who sat in the passenger seat. Looking at the rearview mirror, Price was looking right back at you, eyes flickering to the road occasionally, "Get some rest. It'll be a long ride home."

You nodded like a little kid with a mumbled "yessir" and drifted off once more. For the first time in forever, you feel like you can breathe and ground yourself, no punishment, no torture, nothing to haunt in this rare bit of calm. You didn't feel the pain of your sore muscles, you didn't feel that your body was filthy, you didn't feel small and scared, not anymore. Just surrounded by nothing but a familiar feeling of safety and lulled to sleep by the sound of the engine that took you home.

“Mayday! Eagle 3 is coming down in the middle of the ocean. The pilot is dead and I have no fucking clue how to fly this thing! … Oh, fucking hell…”

There is nothing but darkness around you. The mysterious but dark night sky with thousand shining stars above you and the deadly ocean lurking beneath you. The water is just waiting for you to lose the last of your endurance so you can sink into its cold embrace.

“I’m stronger than you think”, you hiss at the tiny waves of dark ocean water, but you are actually not sure how much longer you will survive. The cold of the sea comes creeping in what feels for hours now. It made itself a home in your bones so deeply freezing that your lips have turned already blue. The feeling in your arms and legs starts to fade just like your will of survival.

The helicopter sunk within minutes after the horrific crash into the water. There was literally nothing left to cling onto. You wouldn’t be Jack clinging for dear life onto a wooden door, while your true love stays safely above the freezing water.

The thought of the Titanic brings a weak smile onto your lips. At least you still got your humor with you to keep you company.

Darkness fills your mind with the sinking dread that your team probably wouldn’t be fast enough to rescue from this death trap. Your form floats on the water like a dead man hoping to delay the bitter end for just another few minutes.

The exhaustion slowly takes over as your eyes flutter shut desperate for a moment of rest. Cold water comes rushing over your face since the ocean was waiting for its chance to drown you in its embrace. The water is merciless. Adrenaline rushes through your vein bringing back your will to fight. You swim with weak strokes back to the surface. How much longer can you keep up against the sea?

“Oi! Not so fast, Phoenix!”, a familiar voice behind you yells out. The dirt beneath your shoes crunches as you jog through a patch of trees. Wait, a minute. The water surrounding you has vanished? This can’t be real, right? It hast to be a memory.

“Too bad you are so slow, Soap. You could easily catch up with me if you would work out a bit more”, you reply to the familiar voice behind you. Soap stares at you speechless for a second before he speeds up to catch you. Laughing you send him a wink and even put more speed on to outrun him more than easily.

Soap grunts with exhaustion ready to bring you down with him. He jumps forward his arms stretched out. This man is an open book for you for years now. Still grinning you make a step to the side completely out of his reach. Soap falls to the ground without you.

Absolutely pumped you start your little victory dance knowing exactly that in the distance Price, Gaz and Ghost are watching the two of you with binoculars. “That was quite a fall Soap took there”, the Captain comments the downfall of the poor Scott, “Pay up, Gaz.” The young soldier lets out a groan but always pays his bet debts.

“Phoenix could outrun us all, Gaz, never think otherwise”, no matter how often Ghost sees you running he is always mesmerized by your endurance.

“How can you be so damn fast?”, Soap can’t believe he lost once again. You give him a half shrug with your shoulder, “I imagine Death chasing me and what do we say to Death?”

“Not today”, you whisper smiling. The thought of your teammates brings you pure joy despite the fact you are probably going to drown. The only family you ever had and ever needed. For a second you close your eyes hoping to see more memories.

“So, your callsign is Phoenix. What’s the story behind it?”, Gaz asks you with a bright smile on his lips. Sometimes he reminds you of a little boy in a candy store. You can’t believe how much happiness his happiness can bring you.

“Well…”, you start your not so exciting story, but Soap interrupts you immediately: “Phoenix survived a car crash with a big explosion and came back out of its ashes like a Phoenix. Tada! The callsign was born!”

The silence in the room is deafening before you burst out with laughter, “What the hell, Soap?! No, that’s not what happened!” Everyone except Gaz gets a good laugh from this story. He looks so terribly confused and kind of intimidated at the same time.

“Poor Gaz is probably traumatized for the rest of his life. I like to burn things and someone else already had the fucking callsign Pyro so I had to improvise”, you explain him the situation with a few words. The young soldier rolls his eyes. Still a tiny smile on his lips can be seen.

“Have you any idea how hard it was to get Phoenix and Soap as both demolition freaks on the team? Explosions. Fires. Laswell was not happy at all”, Price recalls his quite one-sided conversation with her. The only thing she said was “NO!” over and over again. Well, she also said “FUCKING HELL FOR SURE NOT!” once. But Captain Price gets what he wants in the end.

A tiny tear rolls down your face, but you can’t feel anything anymore. The cold crept into every single fiber of your body.  In the end it doesn’t matter anyway. You are still surrounded by water so what matters a single tear escaping? It’s the only one. Way too tired you can’t share more than that tiny tear with the ocean.

“Are you fucking serious? You could have died!”, you hiss angrily at Ghost as you patch the bullet wound in his side up. The tough soldier keeps quiet letting you work. “It’s like I’m talking to a brick wall without a single thought behind those eyes. Except for sacrificing himself for someone else”, you keep going with your monologue. No one dares to speak like that to him. Except you. It’s always you.

Ghost can’t see how your hands are shaking. How the fear takes over your already worry-ridden mind. How you blame yourself for not being fast enough in the end. You could have prevented this from happening.

But Simon knows you better than you yourself sometimes, “Not for anyone. Only for you, Phoenix. I’m sorry, but please stop worrying. Stop blaming yourself. In the end it was my decision. That’s what we do for each other. Keeping each other safe, right?”

Not answering you put away the first med kit finally done with patching him up. Ghost isn’t the one with the soft side, but with you it is so easy to feel safe for once. You stand up hoping to run from this conversation. His hand stops you dead in your tracks as he grabs your wrist, “Right?”

A slight smile appears on your lips still not turning around to face him, “Of course… but you are still a brick wall.” Simon can’t help himself but smile too behind his mask.

What have you done? If Simon would be here with you, he would hold this whole conversation against you. It’s the same reason that has brought you into the middle of the ocean. You wanted to keep them safe. Your team. Your family.

The helicopter was loaded with explosive meant to kill. Bombs. Soap’s favorite. There was no time to defuse them. You had not a single second to think about it. Just enough time to act on impulse. What a great idea to bring the helicopter down over the ocean far away to hurt someone else. But what about you?

“No, you are not stronger than me, Gaz”, Soap puts down the money for his bet. There is never a dull moment with those clowns. A tiny smile appears on your lips as you nurse your lonely drink in your hand.

“What’s so funny?”, Price notices your rather happy facial expression. “Nothing, just happy to be alive”, you reply simply. The Captain doesn’t need an explanation what you mean exactly. He just knows. You don’t need to elaborate how they give you a feeling of being home. How they are like the family you never had before in your life. They are everything you need to be happy.

But now it is time to let go.

Tired you keep your eyes closed as the cold water pulls you down into its embrace. You are not scared anymore to give up this time. Only gratefulness and happiness are present in your heart and mind. The joy you experienced is more than enough for a whole lifetime.

For the last time you open your eyes to see the darkness around you. It was the only friend you had the last few hours. The tiny waves trying to lull you into a memories-filled sleep. The cold making it easier to let go. You have been tired for so long already. Tiny air bubbles escape and leave you behind.

The darkness lurks beneath you, but above the water surface shines a strange light. Is that the beacon of hope you were looking for the whole time? There are voices too, but you can’t understand what they are yelling. You are sinking further and further. Far away from the light.

Above the lonely water your team is looking for you desperately.

The thought sends a surge of energy through your body. As hard as you can you wave your arms and legs completely uncoordinated. Still the movement brings you closer to the surface. You can’t give up now. Not so close to them.

Your whole body is numb and hurts at the same time terribly. The ocean gives its best to keep you to itself. The cold clouds your mind. Are you paddling into the right direction? Are you going further down?

Then your arm breaks through the surface. But that’s all you had left in you.

Something grabs your hand so tight you almost screamed out loud because of the pain. Your head is still underwater. There is another tightness in your lungs screaming for just a tiny bit of fresh air.

Slowly you get dragged out of the darkness. Leaving the ocean behind. You take a gasping breath. The world outside the water is so overwhelming. The lights blind you for a moment. The loud noises roar in your ears. Pure chaos. For a moment you miss the calming darkness of the ocean.

A slight smile would appear on your lips as you see the faces of your teammates, but that’s too much for now. Gaz and Soap have their hands tightly on your arms, while Price and Ghost try to heave you into the helicopter by your tactical vest. All your gear got extremely heavy soaked with ocean water to the brim. You wish you could help them out, but you reached your limit of energy a long time ago. They lower you to the ground finally freed of the water.

“We got Phoenix. Go, Nik”, Price gives his order to Nicolai. Your favorite Russian pilot. Ghost and Soap try to get rid of your tactical vest together. Gaz stands ready with a blanket to warm you up. They keep talking to you, but you can’t quite follow their words. Your mind still frozen in place.

“Hey, hey. You broken?”, John puts his hand on your ice-cold cheek to get your attention. This time you can manage a weak smile, “Define broken, Captain.” He lets out a deep sigh full of worry but more than happy to hear your voice once again.

“Don’t ever do this again, muppet. You were out there the whole night. We- … We literally thought you were gone. Want to sit up?”, Price grabs your shoulder softly too scared to hurt you after what you went through. Ghost on the other side helps you too to sit up.

The sun starts to rise on the horizon bringing another day to this earth. Another day you are able to see. Another day to be alive.

“You damn lucky bastard. The endurance from your jogging probably saved your ass out there”, Simon can’t believe he gets another chance to see you again. It breaks his heart to see you beaten up and weak like this, but you are alive.

“What do we say to Death?”, Soap asks you grinning like always. “Not today”, you reply enjoying the little inside joke the two of you have.

Price puts his leg behind your back so you can relax yourself against him. Ghost rests his hand on your shoulder letting himself feel grateful to have you back. Soap sits next to you. Shoulder against shoulder. Just like out in the battlefield. Gaz holds one of your hands in his to get them back to normal temperature.

Your little family.

Lonely Water

You attempt to sit up but are pulled back down by a pair of equally sweaty and hot arms. Your slightly hungover brain slowly registers that the weight pulling you down is none other than both of your lovely partners, whom you would love nothing more than to get away from because of the unbearable heat you all collectively generate.

“My dears… please…” you plead, your arms straining against their hold as they lovingly try to pull you back into their embrace. “It’s so hot and sweaty… and it’s still too early.”

While actively trying to escape their strong hold, you look back at Qifrey. “Aren’t you supposed to be preparing something for the girls?”

“They aren’t usually—” Qifrey grunts, trying with all his might to reel you back in. “—awake during this hour.”

Olruggio groans, attempting to pull you down further. “Jus’ come back to bed.”

“And… respectfully, it’s not like this isn’t our first time being hot and sweaty together,” Qifrey says smoothly, followed by Olruggio’s deep laugh that shakes the hanging bed, each tremble echoing throughout your very being.

As quickly as it came, that flustered state is cut short when another bead of sweat pulls you out of the lovely bubble you had been in.

“Okay— seriously, let’s get uUP—!”

You are quickly interrupted as Qifrey locks his arms around your waist and forcibly drags you back down.

Olruggio snuggles closer, his nose buried into the crook of your neck as he inhales contentedly at your scent, no matter how sweaty you may be. “Just stay. It’s rare that we get a quiet moment like this.”

Your own body betrays you as it starts to relax into their hold, your muscles seemingly melting into theirs like puzzle pieces.

…sssnap!

Your eyebrows furrow at the sound. You look around, eyes narrowing as you try to find the source of the noise. You spot it. One of the many ropes responsible for keeping the hanging bed well… hanging.

Your previously tipsy state vanishes as realization sobers you up.

“Um… guys?”

They both hum at the same time and at the same pitch before laughing at their synchronization. Moments like these always catch you a little off guard. The ease between them is effortless, years of history woven into tiny habits you aren’t always quick enough to follow.

From their heavy laughter, the bed shakes again and your eyes widen as the rope begins to…

…sssnap!

“Both of you stop moving, the bed is going to break,” you say hurriedly, desperately trying to get them to notice.

You’d think Olruggio, out of the three of you, would be the one noticing that his own bed was literally hanging on by a thread, but instead his tipsy state gives him the courage to make a joke.

“It’s not our first time breaking a bed.”

They both laugh and wheeze at the joke before a concerningly loud SNAP bounces off the walls.

Their laughter quickly dies down as their eyes snap toward the noise. You look up and a breath of relief escapes you as you realize you all have not fallen. One rope has snapped and landed on your torso while the remaining ropes still cling to the metal hooks nailed into the brick wall.

“Okay, now you guys notice? C’mon, what if we were actually in danger?”

Qifrey, ever the charmer, presses a chaste kiss onto your cheek. “We’re sorry, love.”

From your neck, Olruggio gives you a small kiss as well.

“Should we be worried about the other suspenders?” you ask as you point toward the remaining three intact ropes.

Suddenly, all three nails keeping the ropes secured snap from the wall, sending the three of you crashing onto the stairs below.

Olruggio lands flat against the stairs, you falling on top of him and cushioning yourself, while Qifrey desperately grabs onto the wooden frame of the bed in an attempt to steady himself, his legs sprawled across your body.

Qifrey, dazed from the fall, mutters, “Well… you’re out of bed now.”

You and Olruggio can only groan in response.

Olruggio lays on the couch, fingers pressed to his temple as he attempts to soothe the avalanche of a headache plaguing him.

In the kitchen, you and Qifrey prepare breakfast for the entire atelier.

You walk toward your hungover lover to try and soothe him, but he swats your hand away.

“I’m fine… dun’ worry ‘bout me,” he mumbles unconvincingly, his words slurring with every consonant.

You playfully roll your eyes. “We both know that’s not true. Now let us help you. You never accept me or Qifrey’s help!”

His brows knit together, one raised higher than the other. “As if you and Qifrey are any different!”

You laugh. It’s true. All three of you have a difficult time accepting help, but that refusal comes from not wanting to make life difficult for others. So the fact that he refuses for that reason only makes you want to help him more.

“You too! You are actively refusing our help in this very moment!”

Qifrey joins the two of you, hangover cure in hand. “Here, my star. Drink.”

Olruggio takes one good look at the cure and immediately turns away. “No. Is that the raw egg and milk cure????”

“The very same.”

“You’re trying to kill me.”

You and Qifrey laugh, Qifrey hiding his giggles behind his hand.

Your laughter softens as you watch them bicker so naturally. They move around each other with such ease that sometimes you feel a step behind without meaning to.

“I’m joking. It’s water. It’s important to stay hydrated when you’re hungover.”

Olruggio carefully inspects the contents of the glass, making sure it truly is water. After concluding that it is, he drinks it.

You notice the shift in his eyes after the first gulp, his Adam’s apple bouncing rapidly before he exhales in satisfaction.

“Wow,” you say, slightly surprised. “You must be really thirsty.”

“Of course I am! That drinking game was—”

“Did someone say game?!” a high-pitched voice exclaims.

All three of you look up to see Qifrey’s apprentices, all donning their in-house uniforms.

Richeh sticks her chin over the stair railing. “I want to play too.”

Qifrey’s eyes light up at the sight of his beloved students. “Good morning, girls!”

“Good morning, Professor Qifrey,” they all say in unison, though with varying levels of enthusiasm.

Qifrey notices the lack thereof from Coco and Agott and makes a mental note.

Sometimes it amazes you how quickly Qifrey and Olruggio notice changes in the people around them. You still feel like you are learning how to keep up with that quiet attentiveness.

“What happened to Master Olruggio?”

“He’s just feeling a little sick,” Qifrey explains as he stands up. “Now, who wants breakfast?”

Coco approaches Olruggio with genuine concern, asking what she can do to help him recover. Judging by the worried expression on her face, she seems to believe he has come down with an actual illness.

Meanwhile, Agott, Richeh, and Tetia exchange knowing looks amongst themselves, the true cause of Olruggio’s condition painfully obvious to the three apprentices who are already more than accustomed to their masters’ antics.

Olruggio is somewhat conscious on the kitchen table, still nursing his better-than-before hangover, his forehead resting against the hard wood.

Qifrey watches your figure as you silently hover over Olruggio’s somewhat conscious body. He sees you hesitate and carefully measure your actions as if even a small mistake could mean catastrophe, though he doubts you could do anything of that nature.

You slowly lift Olruggio’s head and place a folded towel where his forehead meets the table.

You glance back at Qifrey, whose hands are occupied with preparing lunch, though his attention seems elsewhere. “A pretty penny for your thoughts?” you ask.

“You don't need a pretty penny, you simply need to ask,” he replies. “I’m just thinking about how lucky I am.”

His hands skillfully continue preparing the lunch for today’s outing while his gaze drifts toward Olruggio.

You smile softly. “He’s such a lovely person. We are both lucky to have him as our partner.”

“Not just him.” He pauses as he caresses your cheek, forcing you to look at him. “You as well.”

You flush instantly. “O-of course! I knew that… you meant me too.”

You smile awkwardly at him. “I knew that,” you blurt again, more to convince yourself than him.

But alas, his all-seeing eye notices everything.

He gives you a look that clearly says he doesn’t believe you before continuing to pack the lunches into baskets.

“What, pray tell, is the reason for your…” He pauses, searching for the right word. “Apprehension.”

You shake your head while placing the prepared lunches into the basket. “I… perhaps I feel a bit insecure. You and Olruggio have known each other since you were children, I—”

You look down, your hands lightly gripping the table. “I just feel out of place sometimes, like I’m getting in the way of something.”

He moves closer to you, his head leaning against your shoulder while his hand slips around your arm before resting within your palm.

“You are not getting in the way. Me and Olruggio knowing each other for years does not make our relationship with you any lesser or insignificant.”

“In fact…” he murmurs against your ear, effectively sending a chill down your spine, “I find it quite nice. While we know so much about each other already, me and Olruggio really love getting to know more about you.”

His eyes drift around, searching for an object to compare the situation to.

“To us, you are like a magic textbook. Something thrilling to explore and study.”

“Your mind, the people you know, the magic you cast… every bit of it, we love to learn.”

He steps away, still close enough for you to feel his warmth but far enough for you to fully see his face.

“But…” A teasing smile tugs at his lips. “There are other things we enjoy exploring as well.”

His gaze slowly trails over you, affectionate and unbearably knowing.

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. You quickly shove the finished basket into his arms before running toward your personal chambers in a fit of flustered embarrassment.

You hear him chuckle behind you.

You and Olruggio sit shoulder to shoulder on the picnic blanket, eating the lunch you and Qifrey lovingly prepared.

As you lean into Olruggio, you admire the peaceful scene before you: Qifrey and his students practicing magic.

It’s really nice watching this, seeing both Qifrey and Olruggio so deeply in their element.

“I heard your conversation. With Qifrey.”

He starts suddenly, and you feel yourself figuratively shrink.

“And…?”

“Well— I agree with Qifrey, though I can’t explain it as eloquently as him,” he admits, scratching the back of his neck.

A long stretch of silence falls between you before he finally asks:

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I… I don’t really know. I just didn’t want to be a burden. I didn’t want you and Qifrey to have to change to accommodate me.”

He exhales softly, the hand that had been scratching his neck now wrapping around your shoulders.

“You are never a burden, alright? And—”

“Then maybe you should do it yourself!”

You and Olruggio immediately look toward the source of the argument and see Coco and Agott bickering while Qifrey attempts to de-escalate the situation.

Your feet instinctively carry you toward the trio.

“What’s wrong?” you ask as you kneel down to meet Coco and Agott eye to eye.

“Every time I try casting it, Agott keeps correcting me before I can even finish!” Coco exclaims, tears already welling in her eyes.

Agott immediately fires back, sparks practically flying from her mouth. “I was trying to help you fix it before it became dangerous!”

“See?! You always do that!”

You place a comforting hand on each of their shoulders.

“Both of you, breathe. We are letting our negative emotions get the better of us.”

You demonstrate by taking a slow deep breath, and eventually they follow.

You turn toward Coco first.

“Now, Coco, why don’t you tell Agott how her words felt to you?”

“Um…” She fidgets nervously with her wand. “I know you were trying to help… but every correction made me panic more.”

Her eyes squeeze shut.

“It makes me feel like I’m doing everything wrong.”

“But if I don’t point it out, the spell could fail completely,” Agott insists, looking toward Coco.

“But you always sound so annoyed when you talk to me!”

“I’m not annoyed at you! I’m frustrated because you keep doubting yourself!”

Your eyes flicker between them.

It’s clear Agott truly just wants to be helpful; she simply struggles to communicate it properly.

And Coco… hears the criticism louder because of her own insecurities.

Agott’s words only deepen those fears.

You look directly into Coco’s eyes, desperate for your words to truly reach her.

“Coco, being corrected does not mean people are disappointed in you. Agott was only trying to help you improve.”

Then you turn toward Agott, gently brushing her curls away from her face.

“And Agott, being helpful also means considering how your words affect others emotionally. I know you more than anyone understand how hard Coco works to catch up. So try being a bit gentler, okay?”

Slowly, Coco and Agott pull each other into a soft embrace, silently exchanging apologies.

Tetia immediately joins the hug while Richeh quietly tugs at both their sleeves, pulling them even closer together.

Coco lets out a tiny sniffle as Agott blushes furiously beneath the affection.

You stand back up, smiling softly at the sight of their reconciliation.

Qifrey walks up beside you, whispering a quiet “Thank you” before pressing a kiss against your cheek.

Before returning to his students, his eyes drift past you.

When you glance behind yourself, you notice Olruggio staring back at him.

For a moment, you feel a step behind them.

Did you miss something? Why were they sharing that look? What did you miss?

Olruggio walks toward you, his expression both serious and soft.

But his affectionate gaze goes entirely unnoticed as your thoughts spiral violently in your head.

What if you stepped in where you weren’t needed? What if you never truly fixed the rift between them? What if—

“Hey.”

Your head snaps toward him.

His hand rests gently against your shoulder, concern clear within his eyes.

“Are you okay?”

You quickly look away, blinking your tears back. “Yes.”

He pulls you closer immediately.

“You can’t hide from me.”

You say nothing.

“Did it look like he didn’t want you there?”

You still don’t answer.

What could you even say to that?

“[Name], listen to me.”

“You add so much to us, to our relationship with Qifrey and…” He glances toward the scene before him. It resembles the one he saw earlier with you. But it’s different now.

Because it has been touched by you.

He nods his head to point at the apprentices. “To the kids.” 

You are then enveloped into a tight embrace. “You aren’t a burden, you never will be.”

“Now, like I said, I’m not as well spoken as Qifrey but–” He pulls away, staring deep into your eyes, much like you did with Coco. “Us adjusting to your needs, your wants, your life style? is the easiest thing we have ever done.”

You look into his tired eyes, eyes heavy from endless deadlines and late night work sessions. What you find isn’t exhaustion but the eyes of a man who loves you.

Just as the atelier is full of life in the early hours of the day, the atelier goes to sleep at the early hours of the night. (Due to Olruggio’s strict rules on the importance of a good sleep schedule.)

The girls had been sent off to bed together with their respective roommate, though not without complaints from Tetia, one last question from Coco, and Richeh nearly falling asleep at the dinner table from her food baby before Qifrey carried her upstairs himself.

Now only the three of you remained awake. 

This has become an unofficial tradition for you three, to let go of the stress from deadlines, teaching and insecurity.

The golden magical light illuminated the room as you and Olly diligently work on washing the dirty dishes.

You dried dishes while Qifrey stacked them inside the cupboard specifically for kitchen appliances, and Olruggio stood at the sink washing the last few cups.

The rhythm between the three of you was quiet and practiced.

Comfortable.

“Agott pretended not to care about dessert again,” Qifrey mused absentmindedly.

Olruggio snorted softly. “And then took the biggest slice after everyone else grabbed theirs.”

“She thought nobody noticed,” you added with a laugh.

“She gets that from you,” Olruggio muttered toward Qifrey.

Qifrey gasped dramatically. “Excuse you? I am very emotionally transparent.”

Both you and Olruggio looked at him in silence. A look that read 'Come on now, look who’s talking.'

“…Cruel,” Qifrey sighed.

Your laughter filled the kitchen before slowly fading back into comfortable quiet.

You handed Olruggio another plate to dry, only for him to catch your wrist instead.

“Hm?” you blinked.

He brought your knuckles to his lips absentmindedly before letting go like it was second nature.

And maybe it was now.

For a moment, you simply watched them.

Qifrey humming softly to himself, Olruggio’s sleeves rolled past his elbows.

The soft clinking of dishes.

The occasional splash of water.

The familiar feeling of being gently bumped into whenever one of them passed by.

You smile, you could live the rest of your life like this.

Within the familiar walls of Qifrey’s room sits the three of you.

Olruggio spoons you from behind, your back pressed firmly against his chest, while Qifrey lies in front of you.

All three pairs of legs tangle together beneath the comfortable softness of Qifrey’s blanket.

“Today was perfect,” you sigh contentedly. “Nothing went wrong today.”

You pause thoughtfully.

“Well— other than our incident this morning and Olruggio being hungover.”

You hear a grunt from Olruggio and a chuckle from Qifrey.

Olruggio takes your hand within his and presses a soft kiss against it.

At the same time, Qifrey adjusts the blanket higher around the three of you, only for Olruggio to immediately tug it back down.

“You’re gonna overheat them again.”

“I control water, not body temperature.”

“Clearly not well enough.”

Their familiar back-and-forth makes warmth bloom within your chest before either of them notices your smile.

Sandwiched between your lovers beneath the blanket, you finally feel warm in a way that has nothing to do with the sticky heat from earlier that morning.

You exhale softly, the exhaustion of the day dissolving beneath Olruggio’s steady warmth and Qifrey’s calm, flowing presence, as though the two of them together could melt every worry away.

You close your eyes and simply exist within the moment.

No overthinking.

No comparing.

No wondering whether you belonged here.

You feel them shift around you occasionally, absentminded touches tracing along your arms and hands.

Olruggio reaches over your shoulder to steal one of Qifrey’s kisses meant for you, earning an offended gasp from him.

“That was for dearest here, how greedy of you, Olly!” Qifrey teases.

“Mhm. Don’t care. Shared resources,” Olruggio mutters sleepily against your shoulder.

Qifrey narrows his eyes before leaning forward and pressing another kiss against your forehead anyway, purely out of spite.

Caught between their quiet bickering, you can’t help the laugh that escapes you.

Their touches are soft and thoughtless now, the kind of intimacy born from habit, from love, from knowing exactly where to find one another even in silence.

At some point, without realizing it, you had stopped feeling like a guest in their lives.

You had become part of the routine.

Part of the home.

Held safely between them, you finally let yourself rest.

A/N: I cant believe this fic took me like 11 days... sorry! I was preoccupied preparing for college adjhwkjdha here is the other request btw, i decided to combine them bcuz why not

"It's a big day boys and it's going to be warm today. Make sure to drink up and eat the snack bags I gave you." Yuu said putting down the last of their cooking tools.

Yuu didn't have a club to participate in at the club meet but after the boys said they wouldn't go to the event with them Crowley relented.

Instead, Yuu would set up a small food stall to show off NRC's food. Yuu had made sure to pack lots of personal meals for those participating in the event so they wouldn't go hungry. Yuu had no idea what the quality of the food was here and if they knew the dietary limits of their students so it was better not to risk letting the boys get sick.

"Yeah, okay. I need to get going. The basketball teams are having a short game now." Ace said eager to start showing off.

"Okay, let me just grab your lunches. Curry, hummus, and veggies for Jamil. Fried catfish, seaweed salad, and fried potatoes for Floyd. And a BLT, steak fries and one of my special cherry jubilee tarts for Ace." Yuu handed of the wrapped boxes to each of them before they left.

"Thank you again Yuu." Jamil said remembering to thank them.

"Now it's the track team. Jack has a steak sandwich, deer jerky, and pear pudding. Deuce had omelet rice, pigs in a blanket, and my blue razzberry tarts." Yuu said watching Deuce immediately scoop up his box and sprint off while waving with a big smile.

"We'll bring back a trophy," Jack said sternly, his tail wagging.

Yuu continued to hand out food and snacks until everyone was gone. They eventually noticed that Malleus's box was still there with no sign of Malleus. Did everyone forget to bring him again?! Oh no...Yuu would make sure to apologize with banquet. He might be in a more forgiving mood after.

Yuu didn't want it to go to waste, especially with Grim going to watch the sports clubs.

Yuu didn't want to not watch everyone show off. The problem was that Yuu wasn't supposed to leave the stall. This wasn't fair at all. Yuu didn't like being all alone.

Unknown to Yuu the decadent smell of their food was spreading around campus. From a few of their friends opening their lunch early like Ace grabbing his tart, Ruggie eating his chicken, and Cater taking pictures of his kimchi-jjiga. Then there were those who were showing off their meals like Vil with his tuna tartar, Rook with his venison, and even Sebek of all people with his smoked salmon. It managed to get the attention of many RSA students who began asking them where they got their food. All of the boxes were wrapped in the same patterned handkerchiefs with a cat head with a knife and fork.

As fate would have it Neige LeBlanche stumbled upon a pouting Yuu sitting next to a small stall with a box in their lap.

"Are you okay?" He asked watching the lil'chef poke out their bottom lip cutely.

"Mmn, yeah. I just made too much food again." Yuu said not looking up.

"You have extra then. I don't mind taking it off your hands. I accidentally forgot my lunch again." Neige had not forgotten his lunch. He had fed it to his animal friends again.

"Really?" Yuu looked up hopefully, glad it wouldn't go to waste but- "Are you sure? It's probably not suited to your taste. I usually make these to the taste of each person."

"Of course, I'm not picky. I'm sure it's delicious." He said smiling taking the box from Yuu and sitting down to unwrap it.

The box was filled with a collection of different foods to sample. Malleus enjoys trying as many foods as possible so his boxes are made so that he can learn every food he likes and dislikes. Malleus wasn't picky either since he loved every food Yuu made.

"Oh my, there is so much to try." Neige took a moment to take a picture of the food. "Why don't you eat with me?"

"Huh?" Yuu said doe eyed and confused.

Cater scrolled through recent posts on magicam when a new post from Neige crossed his view.

"OMG!!" He yelled standing up.

Lilia and Kalim jumped before looking over his shoulder.

Plain as day was a collection a photos of Neige and Yuu where there. Not just any photos, cutesy ones with hearts and birds.

One with Yuu and Neige sitting so close together they were thigh to thigh with a lunch box perched on their laps. One with Neige feeding Yuu a fork full of cake. Yuu looked so cute too. Then Yuu was doing the same and they looked so nervous and shy. This can't be happening.

Carted groaned in defeat at the amount of perfect couple shots was infuriating.

".....this has to be-" Cater broke out in a cold sweat. "A new relationship announcement."

Kalim and Lilia were stunned into silence.

Vil was getting impatient. Neige was supposed to be here 10 minutes ago. They had to do a photoshoot for the event.

Rook sent him a message with a link. The moment he saw Neige with Yuu he almost crushed his phone.

"That bastard." Vil was foolish. He had been blocking Neige and Yuu from meeting since the beginning. Neige was too curious about where Vil's food came from whenever they worked together. After all Vil never ate on set and hated the catering so his sudden shift to eating food prepared by who he called "his chef" was always going to get Neige's attention.

Ruggie was growling up a storm as he waited for the next round to start. He had grabbed Leona's phone as messages popped up. When he saw some random RSA student with HIS Yuu. Like hell was he going watch some pretty boy steal his meal ticket.

No one takes advantage of Yuu's gullible nature but him.

"Hey, shortstack give him some distance this round," Leona warned Epel. He knew that Ruggie could get vicious on the field when he was in a bad mood.

Epel took a few steps away from Ruggie. He had never actually seen the hyena growl let alone sneer like that.

"I should probably get back to the stall. The others will get upset if I wander off." Yuu said half-heartedly. They was mostly referring to Grim, Ace, and Deuce. They tended to panic if they can't find Yuu.

"Why?" Neige asked his head tilted to the side like a puppy.

"They just worry I'll run off." Yuu said.

Neige could put two and two together. Vil was protective of his chef and from the comments under his post sounded like they didn't want him near Yuu.

Perhaps they were keeping Yuu with them against their will. Maybe Vil didn't know but the other NRC students wouldn't let them go. Vil was probably trying to protect Yuu by making them his chef.

"You poor thing. Don't worry! I'll save you!" Neige said grabbing Yuu's hand and taking them away.

"Huh?"

Yuu was very sweet but awareness wasn't their strong suit. They assumed that this was some sort of act. Yuu did hear that RSA students pretended to be perfect princes, that's what the others said. Yuu wanted to play along, after all they would never get another chance to pretend to be a princess again.

"Oh, are you going to take me away?" Yuu humored him as they giggled.

Neige looked at Yuu like they had hung the moon, a gentle princess who wanted to be saved by HIM.

Immediately he rallied as many other students as he could to bring Yuu into the school. RSA would have their very own princess who cared for others so much and made delicious food for even those that kidnapped them.

Due to the ruckus that was being raised the club events were canceled.

Each group ran to the now empty stall where Grim was crying into an apron that Yuu left behind.

"What happened?" Trey asked searching for Yuu.

"They have been taken captive by Neige and his friends," Grim yelled.

With that the group went up against a gauntlet of students traveling up the headmaster's tower before they successfully enrolled Yuu into the Royale Sword Academy.

Of for the moment they got to the top.

"It's dinner time. I'm glad you made it in time. You must have had alot of fun today." Yuu said cheerfully.

Yuu had commandeered the headmaster's kitchen and as always was sticking to their cooking schedule.

Everyone ended up having to settle down and enjoy a meal. Although there was still plenty of bickering and attempts to keep the fawning RSA students away from their princess.

🖤 Oh no, a troublesome student. Another one. But wait, it wasn’t just a normal troublesome student. It was his troublesome child. Sure, he never wanted to have a child, but when he got to know you better, the masked headmaster took you in and loves you like a father would love their child.

🖤 He promised you on your first day, that he will find a way to bring you back to your world… But maybe he won’t find a way… That’s not too bad, right? I mean… You still have him and he will take you in like a great father would do!

🖤 “- So… Yeah, I have a family.” Crowley listened to you, as he nodded with his head. “You mean two families. One in your world and the other one here.” He smiled sweetly at you, implying that the headmaster was your new family, only to get a confused expression. “Two???”

🖤 “(Y/N), please stop it, my child. I need to do this paperwork. Wait… Why are you staring at me?” – “D-Did you called me your child…?” Cue to him, getting a little bit flustered but nonetheless he nods with his head, patting you like you were a small little five-year old.

🖤 “Ace Trapolla. You are a bad influence for my child, so please step away from them. (Y/N), come over here. Wait- No! Don’t go! I’m your father!! Listen to me!” After you didn’t listen to the headmaster – as he was just talking and wasn’t truly your father, Crowley tried to find a way to adopt you and make it official, so you have to listen to him.

🐕 Crewel just has to protect you, no matter what. The only people who he would tolerate to be around his not-official-but-going-to-be-adopted-as-soon-as-possible-child, were maybe Vil and Rook. Why? Because they knew a lot about fashion, like your wonderful father.

🐕 “Why can’t I hang around with my friends?” – “They are troublesome. Maybe they will use a wrong spell and poof, you will be a cat… As you are not gifted of using magic, I advise you to stay by your father’s side.”

🐕 “Hey… Yeah, I need to whisper right now… Dad- Oh, I mean Professor Crewel is sleeping here and will only let me out of my room, when I finish my homework… Sorry, I will call you guys later.”

🐕 “Here are the adoption paper. You are my child now, (Y/N) Crewel.” He smiles at you just the same way, he would smile at sweet dogs.

🐕 Crewel would be a great father. The tall man would buy you plenty of clothes, accessories and more, just to see you smile at him happily!

🐈 “Am I allowed to date someone here?” Your nervous voice asked the father figure of yours as Trein’s fingertips stroked Lucius furr. “How many times do I have to tell you, that every student here is not good enough for you, child? No go and do your homework.”

🐈 Please, don’t sneak out or else Lucius might see you and tell it your father immediately! That won’t end up good. “Tell me why you were sneaking out at two in the morning? Don’t tell me that your troublesome friends wanted you to play another stupid prank?”

🐈 Trein will be super nice to you and even help you out, whenever you needed help with your lessons, especially with the history of the dark, twisted wonderland you were stuck in.

🐈 Secretly, Trein will thank Crowley of not finding a way to bring you back, or else he might lose another one dear to him, after his wife died.

🐈 After Trein sees you as his own child, Lucius started to think of you as a sibling and would you even pat him, which was super rare. “Wait, (Y/N)?! Are you patting professor Trein’s cat? What is going on?” – “(Y/N), my child, are they annoying you? Zigvolt, Spade, Howl, mind your own business and stay away from my child.”

💪🏼 “Come on! Faster, (Y/N)! You can do it! I believe in you!” Vargas tried to cheer for you, as you tried to run as many laps Jack currently did. This only resulted in you collapsing and Vargas patting your head.

💪🏼 “Don’t worry. You will get stronger. But at first, let’s go and eat some raw eggs! That will help you with your muscle training!” The PE teacher stood up, dragging you with him to who knows where.

💪🏼 He was a strict father, but still a nice one, who always wanted the best for you and your health.

💪🏼 Vargas even had a few discussions with the other staff members of NRC, because they thought that he might not be a good father figure to you, but you always assured them, that you loved Vargas the way he is and he will always stay a great dad.

💪🏼 “Dad… How many laps? I can’t feel my legs anymore….” You huffed and puffed out the words, trying your best not to stop or else, you might lose the rest of the strength that was left in your legs. “Just thirteen more! You can do it!” – “Maybe I should go and let the other ones adopt me…”

🔮 Oh my, oh my… Sam would be a funny father. He will show you plenty of weird wares he has in his shop.

🔮 You also get everything for free, after he adopted you!

🔮 “My Little Demon, how about this one spell? Do you want to learn about it? I could show you a few things.”

🔮 Sam will bring his friends from the other side over, so you might talk to them. They seem quite… strange, but you will get used to them soon.