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[celestialhole]

suits.

[celestialhole]

The Things I Never Said

Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Summary: Simon had told you he never wanted to be a dad, so when the inevitable happens you run.

Word Count: 2.2k

Tw: angst, fluff, ooc simon(? descriptions of pregnancy and panic attacks, medical inaccuracies, slightly suggestive but nothing too explicit, this isn't proofread; i think that's it?✨

A/N: omg i couldn't stop thinking about this so i had to write it! I'm just feral for dad!simon loosely connected to this bc this is where the idea came from. Hope y'all enjoy it🫰🏻💛🦄

Masterlist✨| Part 2

You're shaking by the time you're out of the bathrooms. There's no doubt. You think with slight tremble on your lower lip. It almost feels aa of the world around you is closing in. Suffocating your lungs. Your vision blurs, when you toss the pregnancy test in the trash can.

This can't be happening. Not to you.

It's not that you didn't want to have kids.

But Simon didn't.

At this point you're sobbing uncontrollably, gasping for air. It's a good thing no one comes to this part late at night. The only moment you could find peace and solace. Sliding down the wall, hiding your face in your hands. How could you let this happen? You should've been more careful.

Your mind goes back to that day when neither of you cared about the consequences. Caught up in the moment, tearing each other's clothes; eager to be together. You hadn't seen Simon in two months when he was deployed to Serbia and you had to stay behind. Being both in the military meant knowing the risks. Every time could be the last time. You heard things about that specific mission. He got injured. You remember the gnawing fear clawing at your chest. And then there he was, knocking on your door as soon as they landed. His shoulder wrapped around bandages. He kissed you hard, desperately.

Hitting the mattress with you on top of him, not wanting to hurt him anymore. The sweet things he murmured in your ears, hands intertwined as you fall apart together.

You love him.

He cares for you.

But even if he felt slightly the same way about you, it wouldn't be enough.

Simon had... traumas. A tragic story of his own. You heard him talk about it late at night when he couldn't sleep. Those demons that plagued his mind, his dreams... and you listened. That's all you could do.

Offer a hand to the man that had saved you over and over again. And somewhere along the lines you fell.

And you fell hard.

Somewhere between dark nights and shared kisses at dawn.

-

You didn't get any sleep last night.

Your mind is still spinning with the anxiety. The morning sickness that started to disrupt as soon as you woke up. Red, puffy eyes that you try to dissimulate by washing your face hoping it goes away.

You get dressed feeling devastated, knowing that you'll have to face him as soon as you enter the training room. He's in charge. The mere thought makes you want to throw up. But you leave the bedroom nonetheless. Walking down the hallway feeling your hands sweating and your ragged breathing.

When you finally open the doors you're fifteen minutes late. That alone will earn you a punishment.

It's almost as if he feels your presence, immediately finding your form when you enter, his jaw tightens. Simon doesn't like this. But as long as you're under his command you get equal treatment or else, he'd be in problems. Both, would be in problems.

"Bit late Sergeant." He grumbles, emphasizing the last word staring directly in your eyes. Ghost is perceptive and is aware that something is wrong, but doesn't comment on it... yet. "Fifty push-ups. Start sparring when you're done."

You swallow down saliva, feeling your throat constrict.

Fuck, fuck. Don't cry. Not right now.

This whole situation has you sensitive.

You start, concentrating on doing the push-ups. Hearing the distant voice of him echoing around the room, sometimes you think he's closer to where you are then he's gone, but his gaze never leaves you. It's almost sinful how good he looks in that tight green army t-shirt and cargo pants

Your arms are sore and wobbly by the time you finish. Standing up you fight a wave o nausea, closing your eyes so hard you see white dots behind your eyelids.

"You alright?" It's Kyle's hand on your shoulder what brings you back, your eyes fluttering open and find him looking at you, eyebrows slightly raised.

You give him a small smile and a nod.

"Just tired that's all. Didn't get much sleep last night." You divert your gaze where the rest are beginning to spar. "How mad is Ghost?"

Gaz chuckles.

"I wouldn't call that mad. I think he's worried. You look like shite, dear."

"Oh." You say.

Gaz prompts you to the other side to join the training. Everyone's gathered around the training mat. Soap is kicking a soldier's ass. What was his name again? You forgot.

A gentle brush on your skin and then delicate fingers wrap your arm. You freeze, Simon's feather touch sends goosebumps all over your body. You turn your face upward to acknowledge him. His deep blue eyes soften when you look at him.

"Is everything okay Sergeant?" He asks. No. He demands.

You open your mouth and then close it. That's a question you don't know yourself.

I wish. You want to say.

But nothing will ever be okay after last night.

"I... I- didn't get much sleep, Sir. That's all."

Simon sighs but doesn't insist. He just nods, accepting your answer for now, once the training is done he'd talk to you. "You're up." He instructs.

Hand to hand to combat has never been your strongest suit but you do it nonetheless. Informatics on the other hand... you're the best of the best. That's why you're here, why you're a part of the task force.

Ghost stands within your range of vision in a way that you can see that he's there even when you're fighting.

You start although you're not in your best shape. Your heart is racing but not for the adrenaline. Your mind is fuzzy and your stomach churns. The panic is starting to break loose on you. You recognize the signs. You barely dodge the man's punch, this can't be called sparring. You're merely deflecting his hits, defending yourself.

Get a fucking grip!

Soap and Gaz look at each other. Then at Ghost who's clenching his fists, looking like he's about to jump between the two and kill the man. They get ready just in case something goes sideways.

You see his fist coming to your face, you take a step back but it grazes your left cheek. Someone in the distance swears and it's enough to distract you, the next blow goes to your gut. He doesn't even hit you with full force, noticing your lack of response he refrains as much as he can but it connects with your abdomen nevertheless.

It suffocates you. Brings you to your knees spitting saliva and gasping for air. You hear the soldier's frantic apologies. You cough trying to breathe but you just can't. It hurts you.

In a quick move Ghost is kneeling beside you, eyes scanning your body for external injuries. Anything.

"Hey... hey, kid! Look at me!" He orders. You can't, mostly because you're gasping for air, coughing, and the pain in your stomach. Ghost grabs your face seeing the tears collecting in the corner of your eyes. Another wave of nausea hits you and you spit out whatever comes out of your mouth. Simon takes you in his arms lifting you and runs to the infirmary, gritting his teeth. His steps echoing in the empty hallway as he bursts the doors of the med wing open.

-

"Captain..." you greet him as soon as you walk into his office, closing the door behind you with a soft click. Price looks at you, arms crossed. The bucket hat resting on his head. He's dead serious.

"Does he know?" He interrogates with that deep voice of his. It's only been an hour since the incident. Price had to do all in his power to keep Ghost busy. It nearly costs him a limb and a punch to his face. There's only so much he can do.

"No." You murmur, looking down to your feet.

"Jesus, kid." He pinches the bridge of his nose. His head was pounding already. This wasn't good. For any of them. John had decided to turn a blind eye on the situation. As long as it didn't interfere with their duties. Now? He shakes his head. Price walks towards you, the youngest of his team and a valuable asset. You were important to him, to everyone in the 141; to Simon in a very different way. "I'm putting you on medical leave. You must take care of your health, your body. I'll see what I can do, yeah? And for the love of God, talk to Simon."

-

You don't.

And that's because you're terrified. As soon as you left Price's office you ran to your room throwing your belongings in a duffel bag. You needed time to think. Of course you'd tell Simon.

Just not right now.

The disapproving stare of the doctor was enough to make you feel bad about hiding your pregnancy from him and then your Captain. You bite your lip and head out, the taxi driver is waiting already so you hop in, wishing to get some time alone. Clear your head and then find the best way to tell Simon about this.

It's raining outside by the time you're in your apartment. You've had time to get a quick shower and take the ibuprofen for your sore body. Your hands run absentmindedly to your stomach, soothing the skin but flinching when you press too hard. You should've stayed at base and talk to him after what happened.

But you're scared of the outcome.

By this time Simon must've found out you're gone. You won't blame him if he hates you. After all you ran away from him, like a coward.

Pouring some tea on a mug you hear the sound of keys jingle, and the footsteps followed by a large shadow that towers above you. Blond hair and hard eyes contemplating you, the mask is gone...

Holy shit. You think.

The only thing that Simon finds comfort in is gone. There's something about him not hiding behind the balaclava that sets deep in your heart. As if he were baring himself to you. Not that you hadn't seen his face before; that's exactly why this is more meaningful. It's serious. He chose to show you how vulnerable you can make him.

"Why?" His stern voice sends shivers down your spine. "I went to check on you and the first thing they say is that you're gone." His lips are pressed in a thin line.

"Simon, it's not what you're thinking..."

"Then bloody tell me what is it." He seethes, taking a step closer. "Was already losing my fucking mind over that bastard hitting you and suddenly you're gone?" He shakes his head. "Had I known you weren't going to fight back..."

"I'm pregnant." You blurt out, interrupting his talk. Simon's jaw clenched, halting and freezing on his spot. "And I'm sorry I didn't come to you as soon as I found out but I was scared." Your lips quiver and you hold back a sob, but unable to do much about the tears. "I was scared to tell you because I know you never wanted any of this, I failed to you. I couldn't sleep, I was panicking and the thought of losing you... I needed time to figure out how to tell you." Simon is silent, he doesn't move nor blinks. He just stares. Memories of his time with his father flooding his mind. He never wanted kids. That's true.

Seeing you there, in front of him. Choking on your words, crying because you thought he'd abandon you like you were nothing? Bloody fucking Christ it breaks his heart. Very few things had that effect on Simon. He had made you fearful of facing this on your own. Did you think you were just his friend with benefits? Someone he'd come to whenever he wanted to get laid? Hadn't you seen the way his eyes roamed over you whenever you were around? Never fucking heard the despair in his voice when you got shot during that black ops in Afghanistan? How he seemed to loom over your presence if some pathetic muppet tried flirting with you? The nights spent in his bedroom, limbs tangled hearing you speak about your day? The mission when he finally realized he was completely and utterly fucking enamored with you?

That time he wouldn't leave your bedside because you were severely wounded and comatose?

"I am not my old man, kid." He states after a few minutes of silence. "And if it wasn't clear already, I'd do anything for you. I don't know shite about being a parent but I'll try, yeah? For you..." he clears his throat. This was as complicated for him as it was for you. "For both of you, I'll try." The words sound strange coming out of his mouth. You close the space between you and hug him, inhaling his scent. He kisses your temple while rubbing soft circles on your back. Relief washes over your body and the tears stop gradually, until it's just the two holding one another during a raging storm of feelings and nature outside.

Soon the tension, the doubts and the anxiety are replaced with reassurance and loving words.

Promises.

Things you never thought you'd hear.

[celestialhole]

IM GONNA PLAY JASON IN A DND CAMPAIGN!!!!

[celestialhole]

[celestialhole]

[celestialhole]

hey boogie woogie bam bam

reblogs are appreciated!! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

[celestialhole]

Benevolence’s Dance.

Synopsis: Amidst war’s chaos, a dance of deception and kindness unfolds, testing compassion and deceit in the enigmatic system of Ramattra.

a/n: I wrote this in the spam of 2 months, slightly proof read. I was inpired by @ya-zz​ to write, shout out to their work and blog!

Pairing: Ramattra x reader.

Words: 6k.

   In the realm of war, where ethics often surrendered to harsh conditions, Ramattra found himself making choices that defied conventional morality. He understood that sacrifice was an inevitable companion on the treacherous path to ensuring the triumph of his kind. His conscience bore the weight of this decision, not out of remorse for your sake, or the humans, but rather from a profound awareness of the potential suffering it would inflict upon Zenyatta - a potential sense of distrust between both Omnics.

Despite his master’s constant preaching about the redeeming qualities of humans, Ramattra remained unconvinced and quite frankly, uninterested. To him, humans embodied a multitude of negative traits. Whether it was their inherent selfishness and arrogance or their self-destructive tendencies and inability to see beyond their own interests, humans appeared as a cruel force, gradually destroying all other forms of life, including their own. Ramattra believed that such a destructive way of existence warranted a demise filled with agony and suffering.

Keep reading

[celestialhole]

from the river to the sea

[celestialhole]

nibble (photo ref here!!)

[celestialhole]

Sunglasses are just 🤌✨

GHOST IN “CARTEL PROTECTION” 🕶️ | MODERN WARFARE II

[celestialhole]

can i have ramattra who loves how his lover laughs like more than anything??

i have a feeling this is related to our little laughing fit the other night 🤔

If there was one thing Ramattra would miss should you leave, it would be your laugh.

The way your eyes crease, tears pooling when something really gets to you. The pain in your chest or sides when you’ve been laughing too hard mixed with the seemingly never ending laughter makes his circuits run warm.

Your frequencies were perfect for him. He never had to adjust his receptors, letting your noises fill his systems until his fans ran overtime.

Ramattra didn’t even need to lay a hand on you to make you laugh. Something so simple as a fumble of words could get you going. When one mistake became two, your laughter wouldn’t cease until you were crying.

He’d care for you afterwards, when all the laughter dies down and a headache formed from the pressure. He’d give you plenty of water, making sure you were comfy on the bed or curled up in his arms on the sofa.

“Are you okay now?” He would ask, hand rubbing up and down your arm.

“For now, yes.” A small giggle escaping.

“Calm down.” He’d say, though he’d chuckle along with you… which would cause another small fit of giggles.

Hearing you laugh brought him joy, even if it did embarrass him from time to time.

[celestialhole]

original pic:

[celestialhole]

I've been playing as Ramattra lately and I can't with his voice lines- HE DOES THAT TSK TSK SHIT I'M LOSING MY MIND 😫😫😫

[celestialhole]

[celestialhole]

Parents now: TURNING RED SHOULD COME WITH A WARNING!!! IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN PG-13!!! IT TALKS ABOUT PERIODS AND BRIEFLY MENTIONS STRIPPERS AND DRUGS!!! MY CHILD CANNOT HANDLE THISSSSSSS!!!!

Me at 10 watching Doc Ock’s tentacles brutally murder a team of surgeons while they scream and beg for their lives all while Ock is still knocked out, just after watching his wife die by getting stabbed in the eye with glass: This movie is really awesome

[celestialhole]

Ramattra headcanons

(x reader)

Author's Note: I hope that those hcs will put you in a delightful mood. I love writing for Ramattra, it's so calming and lovely. Thank you all for the support and feedback the other fics got, it makes me so happy. I'll always be grateful ❤️ (gorgeous gif is not mine)

***

At first, he thinks that there is only strategic usefulness in this "alliance" and that is all. In time, your stubborn and vengeful omnic will realize that it is more than that. How will he realize? He starts to feel at ease in your presence and somehow craves that feeling when he shouldn't.

His orb seems to have a mind of its own. During the first encounters, if you happened to touch it accidentally or not, you would get pushed away physically by its energy. After some time, after getting closer to Ramattra, the orb would finally accept you too. It would even float above both of you when meditating.

If you follow him on a mission that involves a lot of walking, don't expect Ramattra to pick you up in his arms if you're just tired, not injured. What he would do though is to slow his walking pace to sync with yours, not forcing you, not commenting about human fragility.

No one can guess that you two form a pair, in public. No one can guess that he sometimes glances longingly at you and no one would expect him to react so violently if you were in peril.

If he is injured, he will usually hide it from you. Ramattra got used to hiding any type of suffering from others so that no one will perceive him as weak. Even if you earned his trust, he will still do that. It will take time for him to let you see him in that state and even more time to let you help.

Once he learns about the human body in a non-tactical way, he would be especially attentive to yours. Getting paler and shivering? "You're feeling cold." he would state. Goosebumps? "Is there something bothering you?" Goosebumps, dilated pupils, and heavy breathing? "Am I doing this to you?" He would ask in an intimate whisper.

Hickeys or other amorous markings are out of the question. But expect to have a smudge of dark mechanical grease here and there on your skin after spending time close to him, closer than usual. If Ramattra accidentally catches a glimpse of it, you will be surprised to hear a low satisfied hum. He will not tell you why. That is a subtle reminder on your skin that he did not want to erase.

He has an unsaid wish. No matter what happens, he will still cherish his found brother so he'll wish for a form of blessing from Zenyatta.

Any nicknames for you once his rejection turns into adornment? Absolutely not. However, he starts to call your name like a prayer or a mantra, with the same profoundness. His tone is deep, slower than usual.

Will take you stargazing the way he did with his brother. It's an extremely meaningful ritual for him.

Has a habit of lifting your chin when you're talking to him, and in private, to get his face closer to yours.

Believe it or not, his hugs are amazing but not because of what you would think (not because of his size). He memorized how you like to be held, how much pressure is comfortable, and for how long to hold you.

Let's say that you would enjoy wearing his scarf from time to time. Even if Ramattra gives you an exasperated sigh when you return the cloth, he secretly enjoys your scent being captured by it.

[celestialhole]

I have something inappropriate to say.

happy valentines from ramattra