#boy scout can’t save you all the time

[oharababe]

❝ ACROSS FOR COMFORT ❞ ficlet premise. when he feels that the weight of the world is crushing him, miguel can only think of one person he can go to and unravel his biggest fears. he'd go to you even though you are far away from across the multiverse.

pairing: spiderman 2099 miguel o'hara x reader genre: mature warnings: hurt/comfort, longing from afar word count: 2,148

Miguel knew that he divided the Spider Society the moment he let everyone know that they would not stop until Miles Morales was brought back to him. 

Anger coursed through his veins when the young Spider-Man managed to slip through his fingers and escape from the Society again. He’s been defeated by a sixteen year old boy, who only had a year experience as a vigilante, who didn’t know much about the big sacrifices all Spider-Heroes had to make. And yet, he managed to draw everyone out of headquarters so that he can escape where no one can find him. 

But Miguel will make sure that Miles is found, even if he has to take drastic measures in order to protect the Multiverse. 

The boy wasn’t supposed to be Spider-Man, and yet Miles managed to outsmart him single-handedly. Outsmarted himself, Spider-Man 2099. Who has been protecting the multiverse for years with more experiences compared to the young hero. Who has never seen how fragile the universe is. Who made one mistake that caused the ruins of other people’s lives, wiping their existences off the arachnid humanoid poly multiverse (yes, that name does sound a little far-fetched, but he will always refer to the multiverse as that). Miles Morales reminds him of himself, and Miguel hates it. The one who thought that he can have the best of both worlds; saving lives and having the people close to them alive.  

I thought we were supposed to be the good guys? 

We are, he told Gwen. They still protect the multiverse, saving people’s lives. He was keeping the universe together. And yet, he couldn’t get her words out of his head that echoed in the back of his mind. Miguel knows that the weight of his words and actions have divided the Society, but what was he supposed to do when he tried to explain the situation to Miles calmly and it didn’t work out? And the possibility of another multiverse wiping off its existence can happen again? 

Miles Morales reminds him of himself, believing that Spider-Man can have everything in his life. The reality of it is that they can’t. No matter how hard he tried and the consequences led to severe destruction because of him—it was selfish of Miguel to think he could have it all. 

Miguel sneers when a couple of the Spider-Heroes give their updates that they couldn’t find Miles Morales in the universe they’re assigned to. His fangs bare under his mask, the tone of his voice edge command and hint of desperation as he commands the heroes to continue their search on the young vigilante. The multiverse is large and he knew that Miles could be anywhere. But the boy wouldn’t be able to hide and escape away from him for too long. Miguel knows that—he’ll make sure to find Miles Morales and confinement will have to be done. 

Setting up coordinates to a certain dimension, he strode into the wormhole and reappeared at the end of the time tunnel. The rain has stopped and he’s greeted to a new environment. It was pitch black, quiet and the full moon brightens up the dark canvas of the skies. Feeling the serenity in the air, calmness begins to settle in him, something that he hasn’t felt in a long time. He scouted the multiverse, taking notes of which universes he visited so that he could look for Miles. Earth-223 is no different; his mission is still to catch the young boy. But a thought crosses his mind when he comes to this universe, and his heart starts to race a little faster. 

Miguel hasn’t visited Earth-223 in a while and his stomach curls as he overlooks a part of the city. He glances down at his gizmo and as he suspected, there are no energy levels of anomalies on Earth-223. He has a job to do—to protect the multiverse—but at that moment, his mind is drawn to one thing that he’s been hoping to do since his arrival. 

He moves and swings swiftly from one place to another, going to a place that he had in mind. With one last jump, Miguel lands on top of a roof building perfectly, landing on his feet and rising up to stand. He overlooks a particular street apartment that he’s been looking for. His eyes look down at the street and observe the citizens that walk past by. Miguel knows that he shouldn’t be doing this but a part of him couldn’t help himself to go along with the plan. To find someone from this universe that he knows well. 

And within his view, there you were. Walking down the streets of where your apartment complex is. Seeing how late it is at night, you must have just got off work, ready to return back to your home. He watches as you approach the apartment’s main entrance, taking out your keys and watching you enter the building. 

Miguel lets out a breath that he didn’t realise that he was holding back. You live on the fifth floor of the building and he contemplates on if he should do what he’s been wanting to do with you. In the apartment, he has a hunch that you’re walking up the stairs to your flat. It should take less than five minutes at least and his mind races as he debates on whether he should take the leap or not.  

“Lyla,” Miguel speaks up. “Call them.” 

“A-are... are you sure you want to do that?” Lyla questions. You should be on the way up to your place, maybe walking down the corridor as you prepare to get your keys out to get inside. He knows your routine like the back of his hand. 

“Just do it,” his voice firms. “Call them.” 

Lyla doesn’t argue and she tells him that she’s connecting his earpiece  to your phone number. Through the window of your apartment complex, he can see that the front door unlocks and opens. You step in, put down your bag and take off your coat to hang it up. Miguel sees that you stop midway and your hands pat down to your side pockets. He knows that his call is ringing on your phone because a smile appeared on your face despite how tired your day must have been. “Hey,” 

“Hey,” Miguel responds back. He notices you move around in your apartment, going to the kitchen. Your voice speaks to him on your end of the line, asking about what he has been up to with that calm and cheerful tone of yours. He keeps it brief about his day because he would rather hear about yours, than to remember the crisis he is currently facing. The mask on him disappears away as Miguel listens to you. His free hand rubs against the pad of his fingers together, sometimes running through his dark brown hair. His eyes never leave your sight as he sees you walking around in your kitchen, listening to you talk his ear off that he welcomes deeply. 

“When are you ever going to stop calling me that?” Miguel half jokes. The corner of his mouth curves up into a half smile. Though his words come across displeasure, his heart races at the nickname you made.  Please never stop calling me that. “Miguelito? Really?”

“Well, you never complain.” You tease back. There’s a moment of pause before he hears you speak up again. “Hey, I can tell something is bothering you. You okay?”

Miguel realises that he can never escape from your skepticalism, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. You’re the only civilian who knows about his identity and what he does, even if he isn’t the Spider-Man from your Earth. He knows better than to let anyone in but when it comes to you, he couldn’t stay away. Drawn to you like a moth to flame. Maybe in truth, the reason he is on your Earth is not to find Miles Morales. But rather, to look for you.

“I don’t know if what I did was the right thing to do.” Miguel’s voice wavers. 

Quietness settles between the two of you, and he allows himself to lower his guard down as his voice guides him. “I know that I have to be the one to do it. But I just… don’t know where I am going with this. I thought I knew what it takes to carry this burden.” 

Miguel sighs, the weight of his thoughts and words prior tightens in his chest. He finds it a struggle to downright say that he wants to express at times. He stayed silent and exhaled out slowly, his chest deflated. Miguel’s eyes clock on your figure by the window and though he could only see a side profile of you, he catches a small glimpse of you quietly as well. Not long after, you speak up. “I’m really sorry that you’re having a rough time.” 

“I feel that I did this to myself. Always so… rigid.” A solemn expression etched on his face. 

“True but you have gone through a lot.” 

“There’s this new kid who isn’t like the rest. Different. Which worries me.” Miguel begins. “I told him about the predicament of the future of all Spider-Man—that we will all lose someone close to us. And, Miles wouldn’t accept that.” 

“I see.” You say. “Who is he predicted to lose?” 

“His father, a Captain.” Miguel says. “Miles is trying to change the future and I can’t let that happen.” His voice sterns for a brief moment. “Or else he’s making the same mistake as I did. Have the same guilt that I carry.” 

 The invisible weight he feels in his mind and chest lightens somehow when he tells you what’s going on. You’re quiet when he’s done talking and there’s a moment of pause lingering between you two. 

“I don’t really know much about the effects of messing up timelines,” you say. “But from an outsider’s perspective, it seems that Miles would go against the predicted fates because he would rather give all he’s got than do nothing. Even if he’d get hurt by messing up the timeline, I think Miles would be even more hurt and guilt-ridden if he didn’t give it a try for himself to save someone.” 

Miguel stays quiet. There is something in your words that reaches him, anchoring him to see things differently. You’ve always been good at putting things into a different perspective. 

“I know you care for the kid, Miggy.” You continue. “Even though you have an odd way of demonstrating that.” 

He could imagine the corner of your mouth curving up into a smile as you chuckle softly at your end of the line. And he does the same; cracking a smile on his face for once since the mess of the Spider Society everything happened. Miguel allows himself to venture with the idea of a peaceful life with you; a life where he would return home to you on his good and bad days, and you would be the one he is excited to come home to. He wants to be comforted by you. To hold you in his arms, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. 

He wishes he could just be with you. To him, you are his world. But he knows that you’re only a tiny fraction of this multiverse he swore to protect, even if it means keeping his distance away from you. 

“Miguel? Are you still there?” Your voice speaks through the earpiece. 

He cleared his throat, breaking away his thoughts of a life he knew that he couldn’t really have. “Yeah, I’m here.” 

“Thought I lost you for a moment, there,” you say. Miguel sees you moving around in your living room and settles to sit in the middle of your sofa. You cross your legs in a lotus position and he couldn’t help but watch you, feeling himself strained to stop the smile from forming. But he couldn’t help it, not when you look so carefree and safe. 

“Anyways, are you free to swing by? I made an extra batch of food to share.” You said. “Feel like I cooked a bit too much this time.”

“Not this time I’m afraid.” Miguel says. “Work’s getting intense.” 

“That’s a shame,” you tell him. “Well, I don’t know where you are but that doesn’t mean you can’t escape from me telling you off. And to remind you to look after yourself.” He sees you stuff a spoonful of food into your mouth. He gives you a moment to eat but still manages to talk to him. “Or else who am I going to ramble someone’s ear off but yours?” 

You are what he is protecting, and he’ll do anything to make sure the world you’re in is safe. 

TAGLIST gang: @99matterss @tojishugetiddies @miauamy @pigeonmama @oyayablog @itsmiguel2099

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[justmeinadaze]

I'm in Control Part 3 (Steddie X Reader)

A/N: Im such a whore for these 2 <3

Warnings: Steddie relationship and all that that implies ( I regret nothing) Daddy Steve and Sir Eddie (I'm drooling) , Reader does get harassed but our boys save the day <3

Word Count: 3041

“The convention is Saturday in Vegas. Eddie and Steve, you guys will be with Y/N here and she can show you the ropes. Y/N, I’m bringing some of the other ladies as well. Later on, you and I are going to go scouting for some talent, ok? Nothing new.”

You nod as you smile. “You boys won’t get much sleep depending on when you wrap on Friday.”

“Eh, we’re kind of used to it by now.” Steve grins at you as he sighs. “Just grateful to be a part of all this.”

“Speaking of not getting much sleep…”, TJ spins around in his chair. “Your date with Malcolm? Yay? Nay? Wedding bells?”

“Calm down. It was one date.”, you giggle as you collect some things from your desk and stand. 

“Oh, come on. We’re all grownups here. Was the sex at least mind-blowing?”

You look at your boss before glancing over at your clients. Their eyes were full of hope, waiting on pins and needles for your answer. You lightly swat at TJ’s arm as you exit the office. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

################

“Mmmm… I don’t morning well.”, Eddie climbed into the backseat and immediately rested his head against the window, folding his arms as he closed his eyes. 

You scooted towards the middle as Steve squished in beside you. Leaning over the backseat, you grab a blanket you brought and tenderly throw it over you and Eddie’s legs. 

His eyes briefly open as he looks down before turning to smile at you. “Thank you, Sweetheart.”

“Alright lady and gentlemen, hopefully we won’t hit too much traffic. Y/N, I’m sorry, honey. I have everything piled in the front seat and trunk. Are you ok back there?”

“Yeah, TJ. I’m fine.”

Once you guys were on the road, Eddie was completely knocked out. 

“Wow. It didn’t take him long, did it?”

“He really doesn’t do mornings. Being a porn star, musician, and all-around nerd, his active hours are usually after 8pm.”, Steve chuckles.

“Nerd?”

“Oh, yeah. Mr. Munson here is a huge fan of D & D and most things fantasy.”

That makes you genuinely smile. “What about you? Are you a nerd to?”

“No ma’am. I was definitely a jock guy in high school. I mean… I liked Star Wars. That was fun.”

“Star Wars is good. I’m kind of more of a Star Trek girl though.” His eyebrows knit together in confusion. “You’ve never watched Star Trek?”

“I don’t know what that is.”, Steve laughs at your shocked expression. “What else do you like?”

“I love music and dancing. Um, I don’t really know to be honest. I grew up in a small, tightly wound community. Their definition of fun was vastly different. Everything I got into didn’t start till I moved out here except…”

“Except…porn?”, he asks. 

 “I remember once, when I was a kid, my brother got caught with a porno magazine under his bed. My mom flipped out and called our church pastor. We rushed him down so he could be “cleansed of his sins”. It just never made sense to me. Sex is supposed to be beautiful and fun. How can it be so bad?”

“You’re a fascinating woman, Y/N.” Your eyes lock on his as you both grin. 

Halfway into the trip, you found your eyes getting extremely heavy. Your head lazily fell on Steve’s shoulder as you drifted off to sleep. 

#############

“I can’t believe you’ve never been to one of these conventions before.”, you smile at the boys as you finish setting up the booth for your agency. 

“Technically, I have been to a convention but it wasn’t like this.” Eddie quickly rose from the chair he was sitting in and gestured for one of the actresses who had just come back from freshening up to take the seat. 

“Oh? Was it one of those nerdy conventions Steve was telling me you were into?”

The metal head playfully squints at his friend. “Traitor.”

“Hey, you fell asleep. We filled the time with conversation on the ride up here. Stay awake next time and then maybe you can participate.”, Steve grins. 

You reach over and pat Eddie’s shoulder. “It’s ok. I like that you’re a bit of a geek. I’ll finally have someone to talk nerdy with.”

“Y/N!”

“TJ!”

“Look at all my beautiful people. I love it. Are you ready to come find some talent?” His smile widens when you nod, grabbing your clipboard. “Everyone else, stay here and look gorgeous. Gentlemen, if you could keep an eye on these ladies. We’ve never had a problem before but people can be a bit to…grabby.”

You and your boss walk the floor for hours, finding a few people he would like to sign. While TJ was talking to the stars, you were mingling with the managers. Managers brought talent to agency for a finder’s fee so you knew you guys would have a higher chance of getting more signs if they brought their stars to you.

When you two make your way back to your area, everyone seems to be having a good time. The girls were talking to some fans while Eddie and Steve were mingling with other male porn stars needing advice. 

“My family has no idea I do this but I’m glad I’m able to send my mom money every week to help the bills.”, the young man hangs his head.

“Do you do it just for the money?”, Eddie’s voice is full of compassion as he speaks. 

“Not really. I like… I like the job. I find it exciting.”

“Well, then you have nothing to be ashamed of, man. As long as you enjoy it then fuck everyone else.” 

The boy giggles at him. “Do your parents know what you do?”

“Pfft, my dad would actually have to care first.”, Steve rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, mine can’t even watch porn where he is.” Eddie’s smile falls a bit before he continues. “But my uncle knows and he doesn’t really care. He told me the same thing I told you.”

“Hey, baby.” You extend your arms out to the boy talking to the guys. 

His eyes light up when he notices you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he lifts you off your feet. “Y/N! I was hoping I’d see you.”

“TJ would kill me if I didn’t come with him to these things.”

“She’s right I would.” Your boss smiles at the young man. “Y/N, take the guys and grab some lunch. I’ll wait here with the other ladies and we’ll go when you get back.”

“Ok.” You tenderly cup the boy’s face as you grin up at him. “Remember. You are amazing.”

##############

“How do you know that kid we were talking to? Or do you just know everyone?”, Steve stabs his fork into the Styrofoam container in front of him. 

“I’ve known Avery since he first got here a couple of years ago.”, you cover your mouth as you talk. “He was wondering around the convention with these wide dough eyes. He looked so terrified. I showed him around and answered his questions. He’s a good kid.”

When you looked up from your food you noticed they were both smiling at you. “What?”

“Nothing. You’re just really sweet. It’s adorable.”, Eddie’s grin widens before he puts the beer bottle in front of him to his lips.

“Like I said, this industry has a way and a reputation. I want everyone to be comfortable.”

Your phone on the table comes to life as it vibrates next your plate. You glance over at the it before pushing end. You know when you look back at them, they had read the name on the screen. 

I’m in control.

“So your date with Malcolm went well, huh? You never told us how that ended.”, Steve leaned back in his chair as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“You’re right, I didn’t.”

“Must have ended rather well if he’s calling her phone while she’s out of town.”, Eddie closed his container, moving it to the side and out of his way. 

“To be fair, Mr. Munson, that’s none of your business. What I do with my private time is none of my client’s concerns.”

“She’s absolutely right, Steve.” You rolled your eyes at his sarcasm. “Now, I’m going to ask a question and please tell me if I’m crossing a client/ agent boundary here, Princess. Do you usually let clients finger you while you watch your other client get head?”

Eddie leaned back in his chair, smiling in triumph as your jaw clenched in frustration. 

“What I do with my private time away from you both has nothing to do with either of you and you have no right to be upset. I can fuck whoever I want especially since you’re allowed to get your shitty blow job and both of you are allowed to kiss on anyone you please.”

Steve turns to Eddie delivering a joking glare. “Traitor.”

“What did I do?”

“You told her I hated the way that girl sucked my dick.”

“Was I wrong?”

“Missing the point!”, their heads turn back to you as you shout at them. “It’s not fair.” You abruptly stand from your chair and start to leave them before stopping yourself, charging back toward the table. “What the fuck am I even saying? Fuck whoever you want. I don’t care. We,” you gesture between the three of you. “We are nothing except client and agent. This is a business relationship.”

Steve’s smile grows as he turns to Eddie who smiles back. “I notice she keeps preaching the client agent thing but has yet to answer your question.”

I’m in control AND I’m fucking angry.

“You know what, Daddy.” You watch with contempt as he straightens up at the name. “I’ll answer his fucking question. No, Sir. I don’t usually let things like that happen. I fucked up but that’s ok because that’s the last time that it will. Especially since I found a man who can satisfy my needs way better than I’m sure either of you can.”

Eddie watches your rant with amused eyes as Steve’s slowly start to fill with annoyance. You lean against the table on your palms, alternating your gaze between their own. “Oh, boys and trust me. Malcolm can sat-is-fy.” You overdramatically roll your eyes to the back of your head as you bite your lip. “I’ve never cum so hard in my life.”

##############

“TJ, today was exhausting. Can’t we just relax?”, Eddie asks with a sigh as he pulls the Metallica shirt over his head.

“Tomorrow, guys. I promise. This is a big party that the host of the convention throws on that Saturday and a lot of important eyes will be there. Speaking of,” he looks them both up and down, “are you sure you don’t want to change?”

Steve and Eddie had changed out of their tight, revealing wardrobe they were wearing that day into more loose fitting, comfortable clothes. A small knock on the door gets your bosses attention. “That’ll be Y/N.”

The guys listen to you and him exchange some words before he leads you further into the room. “See, gentlemen. This is how you should look.”

Their jaws dropped when they saw you in your little black spaghetti strap dress that cut off just above your knees. Your hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail and the heels that you had on made you a couple of inches taller. 

Eddie was the first to regain his composure. “I don’t think a dress like that would fit me.”

You smile as your eyes flick to Steve’s waiting for him to say something. He casually exhaled before leaning back on his elbows from his place on the bed. “Well, definitely fitting for a party full of porn stars.”

Your head tilted to the side. “I sent a picture of it to Malcolm and he said I looked gorgeous.”

“And he was right.” TJ grinned as he threw on his jacket. “Ugh, fine! Come on then.”

###########

The bass in the ballroom of the hotel room beats loudly against the walls. You survey your surroundings from your spot at the bar as you take a sip from your glass.

“Hey there, sexy.”

Not even hiding your disgust, you cringe as you turn to see the man addressing you. You recognized him from other films. He was a popular choice to star in most roles due to his conventional good looks but his personality was absolute garbage and you hated talking to him every time you had to. 

“Hey Jack.”

“You’re here alone again? I will never understand how someone like you comes to these things without a date.”

“Maybe that’s because I can have fun without having someone attached to me.”

He chuckles as he chugs back the drink that was handed to him. “I think it’s because you have a crush on me.”

You scoff as you leave the bar trying to distance yourself from him. To your dismay, he follows you. “Come on, Y/N. I’m single. You’re single. It doesn’t even have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”

“You’re disgusting.” You shove him away, power walking in the opposite direction hoping to find your 6’3 muscle bound boss. 

Jack grips your wrist and tugs you against the wall, pressing his entire body into you. “You play this game with me all the time, Y/N. I know you want me. Everyone does.”

“Trust me, Jack. I don’t. Now get off me.”

A wicked smile crosses his face as he leans down to try and kiss you. You kick his shin and move around him bumping straight into Eddie. Steve comes from the side and pushes Jack against the wall, holding him by his collar. 

“When someone says no, the answer is no. If you ever touch her again, my friend here and I will make you regret it. Do you understand me?”

“Hey. I was just—”

“I said do you understand me?!”

“Yes! Jesus Christ.”

“Good. Now get out of my sight.”, he lets him go, tossing him away. 

“Are you okay?”, Eddie asks as his eyes scan you over. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you.” They both smile as the he adjusts the strap that had slid down on your dress. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N but we’re tired. I don’t care what TJ says.” Steve sighs as he grabs Eddie’s arm. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

You hug your arms as they disappear suddenly feeling extremely cold and alone. 

I’m in control.

“Hey!” Your heels smack against the tile as you run after them. “Hey, um, do you guys want to, um, order a pizza or something? I don’t know about you but I’m starving. 

They glance at each other before turning to you. 

“We could eat.”

##########################

You cover your mouth full of pizza as you laugh at a story the boys had just told. “Eddie, I had no idea you could play the guitar. I mean Steve mentioned you were a musician but he didn’t say what you played.”

“Oh yeah, Sweetheart. When we get back home, I’ll show you.” Eddie strums his fingers over invisible strings. 

“What about you?”, you point at Steve. 

“God no. I don’t even know popular music let alone how to play it. You?”

“I’m not that cool, unfortunately.”

“I think you’re pretty cool.” Eddie grins at you before your phone vibrates. 

“Hey TJ.”

“Where the hell are you? And where are my stars?”

“I am upstairs getting ready for bed. As for Steve and Eddie, I have no idea where they are.”

“You’re their agent, Y/N.”

“It’s a party! Jesus. I’m sure they both found some pretty girls and are having fun. Do the same!” You chuckle as you hang up your phone and throw it against the sofa chair near the window. “What?! Why are you staring at me again?”

“Sheesh, calm down.” Steve grins as he holds up his hands. “You just always find ways to surprise us. That’s all.”

“Why do you talk like that? Like you’re one person?”

He turns to Eddie. “Are you not surprised?”

“I’m very surprised she didn’t play her agent card and rat us out.”

You tilt your head and turn away from them as you whisper loud enough for them to hear. “They aren’t answering the question…Yeah I noticed that.” You raise your eyebrows at them. “See? It’s fucking annoying, isn’t it?”

“You spend enough time with someone you get to know them pretty well. Remember, we told we grew up together, spent time together in and after high school, and now we work together in a business that requires you to be vulnerable.”

“That’s ironic.”, you respond to Steve with only mild sarcasm. When they both look at you with confusion, you explain. “Since I’ve met you, I think the only time you’ve been vulnerable is on the drive up here. If you were being more open you would have told me you how you felt about me and Malcolm from the start instead of throwing your little tantrums.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk, Miss I’m-the-agent.”, Eddie sits up on the bed giving you more attention. “If you weren’t attracted or didn’t at least feel something for us, you would have told me to fuck off at that party just like you did with that douchebag downstairs.”

“Did you fuck him?” Steve gruff tone froze you both.

“Who Jack? God no—”

“No. Malcolm. Did you fuck him?” You and the man stare each other down, waiting for the other to concede. 

“It doesn’t matt—” Steve’s arm shot out, reaching for your throat before pulling your lips to his. There was a tenderness behind it that you weren’t prepared for but desperately wanted more of. 

His mouth hovered over yours as he pulled away. Your throat moved under his grasp as you swallowed. “Did. You. Fuck. Him?”

“No.”, you breathed out.

“No what?”

I’m in control. I’m in control. I want him to kiss me again. No! Shit. I’m in control. His lips tasted so good. I wonder what Eddie tastes like. No! I’m in control. I’m—

“No, Daddy.”

###########

@gracieluvthemoon @e-munson666 @luna-munson83

@lunatictardis @corrodedcorpses @munsonology

[puppetwoman17]

An idea just popped into my head and I had to put it on here!

So, during a battle, the JL is hit with a spell that makes them forget they’re superheroes. They can’t remember their powers(if they have any), they have no idea why they’re wearing weird costumes, they don’t know each other, etc.

They all wake up in their homes with no memory of their alter egos, basically, and they slowly start to piece their lives back together. Remember bits and pieces. Finally, finally, they meet back up and realize they’re a team. That they’ve been MIA for so long and that they need to get back in the game.

But there’s one person whose been unaccounted for. Captain Marvel.

Hal makes this known first. Judging from the scale of the spell, they’ll need the Champion now more than ever. But no one knows where he is. No one knows his identity. Where he lives. Whether he looks different in his civilian form. How the spell would treat him, because for all they know, all Marvel is is a superhero.

But one person knows. Cyborg. He knows that Billy is Marvel. He knows Billy recently got an apartment through illegal means and just got back in school. That he got a job at Whiz and is doing so much on top of his duties as Champion.

Billy made him promise not to tell. That he would tell them if(and Cy hated the phrasing of “if”) he turned eighteen. Maybe even twenty. Just at an age where they can’t legally get involved in his life.

But desperate times call for desperate measures. They’ve already wasted too much time. Vic can deal with the consequences later.

So he tells the rest of the League that he knows where Marvel is. There’s obviously a riot because why didn’t he tell them he knew ANYTHING about their captain? But Batman silences them, telling them that that conversation will be saved for later. He tells Vic to take them to him if he thinks he might be on Earth. Vic says he’s definitely on Earth.

So there they are, standing in front of an old, battered apartment building with squatters giving them dirty looks. A leaking pipe. Uneven stairs. The smell…isn’t the best. Flash gives Vic a pointed look because there is absolutely no way the flashy, boy-scout, good-natured Marvel is living in a place like this. Vic reassures everyone that they’re in the right place.

He goes up to one of the ladies peering down the stair bannister on the second floor and asks if Billy is here right now. She glares silently and gives him a look that says “what’s it to you?”. He pleads with her, tells her he’s in danger and they only want to help him. Not totally a lie, but hey, he’s desperate.

She huffs, her look protective. She tells them that if she heard a scream, someone being hit, a thud, anything, she’ll call everyone. Who’s everyone? Oh, just the other thugs, cretins, gang members who live or walk around here.

Hal asks why they’re searching for this “Billy” person. Vic is quiet(on the outside).

He promises that nothing will happen, and that he’ll leave the door open so others can see what’s happening. She approves, albeit hesitantly, and tells him Billy’s room number.

Batman being Batman, he asks Vic if Billy is the Captain’s civilian identity. Vic nods because if he opens his mouth he might start screaming.

They find this door at the end of the hall, scratchy and grey and the complete opposite of the captain. Now it’s Clark’s turn to make sure that they’re in the right place. Vic doesn’t answer. Instead, he knocks on the door.

It opens.

There’s a kid standing there, with dark hair and bright blue eyes. He’s wearing a battered red hoodie and there’s dirt smudging his face. His face is slightly sunken.

“Who are you, and what do you want?”

The League is more than confused at this point. They’re flabbergasted. They’re completely certain that Vic’s memories are still locked somewhere. Maybe his brain’s been messed with. Maybe those circuits have finally gotten to him.

Batman is the first to say something. “Cyborg, who is this?”

Vic is quiet for a moment. He gives the kid a pleading look. Then turns back to his coworkers. “This is Captain Marvel.”

The JL look from the man and machine to the malnourished boy. Then back again. Then back again.

They’re quiet.

Then all hell breaks loose. Diana steps up to Cyborg and asks if this is all some big joke to him. Hal is speechless, studying the kid and asking if he’s sure. If he’s sure this is Marvel and not Marvel’s kid. Barry is shocked that Marvel might even have a kid. Clark is practically fuming because he remembers all the times Marvel and him fought with and against each other and how every single time, his respect for him grew.

He’s the second one to yell at Vic, asking him why the hell he thought he could keep this from them. They let a child onto the league. They brought him to battlefields and let him watch others be slaughtered. They were essentially responsible for traumatizing him.

Billy is…confused. “Hi, um. You’re kinda fighting in front of my apartment, so if you could do this somewhere else…?”

They can’t hear him. They’re too busy yelling at each other. Typical adults, amiright?

So he dips. Just dips cause he’s confused on why a bunch of adults in weird multi-colored clothing are fighting in front of his apartment.

Oh, he’s also really weirded out because there are six voices in his head, and more when the first six get desperate, telling him he’s actually an invincible demigod with the duty of protecting the entire magic community. And that he was chosen by a wizard in a subway station. So yeah, he runs.

Batman clues them in a minute too late.

Feel free to add more or put your own spin on things! Hope my word vomit made sense to y’all.

[chaoticnebu]

I want to know more about your palistrom au Hunter. Anything. Everything. When does it start happening to him? Did any other Grimwalkers experience this? Was there an event or exposure that triggered the tree growth? (Palisman blood perhaps? Belos needs to be more careful when he eats those things.)

What kind of jokes does Gus tease Hunter with? Does Willow use plant magic on him? Does Hunter find it ticklish if/when she does? What do palistrom tree flowers look like and would Hunter give them to the Captain?

Did Belos use Hunter's condition to advance his 'evils of wild magic' narrative? Does Dell have a professional opinion on Hunter's condition? Does Eda have an unprofessional opinion? Has Flapjack ever tried to build a nest against the twigs on Hunter's head? Just how hard is it to find clothes/uniforms for Hunter and does Darius help out with modifications?

The people have a right to know!

cracks my knuckles and hits that readmore because there’s a lot to write

(( CW for a sketch with blood and bruising + mention of fantasy SH ))

so! I imagined multiple instances where the palistrom mutation happens (aus of the au, if you will.) the main one happens at the end of season 2/during season 3 BECAUSE of the Draining Spell

I always thought that grimwalkers are 100% living beings with the same organs and tissues as other demons and witches (minus a magic bile sac in Hunter's case because he originated from a human) because the various ingredients for making grimwalkers simply transform into living organs and tissues. the Galdorstone becomes a real heart, the one bone of Ortet turns into a whole skeleton, the palistrom wood turns into skin, hair and nails, and so on.

BUT the Draining Spell, due to its nature as a magic nullifier, made the Grimwalker Spell on Hunter regress

their blood turned to green magic (the same of palismen)

and the skin of his right arm, scar tissue and right shoulder turned into blue bark

had the draining spell run its course they would've probably turned into a plant monstrosity :) (i also tried to imagine his heart going back to its galdorstone state, but that would’ve probably been excruciating if not lethal, so idk if it would work at all)

having the Draining Spell been stopped in time, though, the mutation happens slowly and only after Hunter and the rest of Hexsquad have fled to the human realm. it takes about a month for the first palistrom leaves to sprout and before that, Hunter has only suffered a terrible itch (everyone thought it was just mosquito bites at first)

when branches finally start to grow and his arm looks less and less human, hunter realizes that hiding his nature as a grimwalker is impossible even with Luz’s help at that point and he leaves the noceda household during a panic attack (he just can’t stop running off into the woods) they eventually reunite and the grimwalker reveal happens WAY EARLIER than TTT (i like it to be a lot deeper conversation.) they also have to deal with Jacob (the museum asshole) being even more determined to catch and expose the kids after finding out that there's a tree boy with them

the second instance of the AU happens earlier, when Hunter is still the golden guard and the cause of the mutation is the Collector. star kid was feeling especially bitter towards Belos and they tried to mess up the grimwaler spell, which resulted into this one grimwalker to mutate at some point during season 2

this AU develops into two scenarios:

Belos tries to dispose of Hunter before Hollow Mind, but the kid flees thanks to Flapjack and finds shelter in Bat Queen’s cave, where she welcomes them as yet another lost thing despite all the harm he caused in the past. he ends up joining the BATS, attacking scouts who confiscate palismen to save them and made up for all those that died because he brought them to the Emperor

Belos decides to keep Hunter and tries to convince him that he was cursed with wild magic just like the Emperor, manipulating the kid into considering himself unworthy of love and acceptance, that his uncle is the only one who understands what it’s like. it takes Hunter A LOT MORE to distance himself from Belos and learn to trust Flapjack and Hexsquad. this is also the instance where Belos has to be more careful about feeding off palismen

So, about Willow! She totally can use plant magic on Hunter after the mutation manifests (limited to his right arm) but unlike healing magic, plant magic is a manipulating kind of energy that could make the bark grow even more and she would rather not try that. IF she tried i’d assume it would itch just like when the palistrom grows naturally

I never thought about palistrom flowers, i think that it might be a fun art challenge coming up with a design for them :) but Hunter would not give them to anyone because pulling them (like pulling leaves or snapping the branches) hurts like hell. a dark bit about Golden Guard Tree Boy if that he plucks leaves and flowers despite it hurting a lot just because he hopes to look "less wild" to the eyes of the Emperor

BUT a cute thing I like to imagine is that when the flowers bloom (around march/april like it happens to most plants) Hunter becomes especially affectionate!

Gus (and Luz!) totally pester him with tree puns! They never leaf him alone :)c ( /shot )

Dell… don’t know what kind of professional opinion he would have, but I like to think he’d be the one helping Hunter recovering after Belos’ possession (because it happens, it’s uglier than canon, and Hunter’s palistrom comes out of it burned and cracked)

Eda’s also very professional opinion is that she’s sorry she can’t stomp Belos MORE after hearing all that the poor kid has gone through

Flapjack totally tried to make a nest in his branches. Actually he still does because he’s very much alive in Palistrom AU :) He was just so badly damaged that he can’t fly anymore. Being beyond repair Hunter had to carve Waffles as a movement aid for them both and Flap gets to hang out with a silly little sister!

finding clothes with accomodations for Hunter's branches is literaly hell (i know it is because i never know how to draw them) so boy has to make his own. Camila helps with it a lot when the kids are in the Human Realm, while Darius helps when they're back to the Demon Realm :D

[engie-ivy]

(Last day of August, just in time for a @wolfstarmicrofic August prompt!)

Bonus: S'mores

917 words

Happy Camper

“I’m sorry,” Dora says for about the hundredth time.

Remus just glares at her.

Dora tries to look guilty, but she has to bite her lip not to laugh.

Around them, hyperactive and overly excited children are running around, while a surprisingly cheery bus driver is trying to get a whole pile of backpacks into the bus’s luggage compartment.

Remus himself is carrying a bag of his own, rethinking the events that got him in this situation.

Dora and he were attending a meeting hosted by the Parents’ Committee at Teddy’s school, and Molly Weasley had been assigning tasks to all reluctantly volunteering parents. They had both managed not to get any tasks assigned to them, and Remus had been hopeful he was going to dodge the bullet, when they arrived at the last item.

The yearly camping trip.

They needed one more parent to supervise the children while out camping in the woods by the lake for a week. While everyone in the room was hoping that not making eye contact with Molly might prevent her from seeing you, Dora had loudly exclaimed “Remus, didn’t you tell me you used to be in the boy scouts?”

Remus did in fact tell her this, because he was telling her how he quit after two meetings because he had hated it so much, and how he detested the concept of ‘going back to basic’. But before he got a chance to say any of this, Molly had already smiled and said “Excellent”, while noting Remus’ name down on her clipboard. And everyone knows, once you’re on the clipboard, there’s no getting off anymore.

Some boys run past them, one carrying a pocket knife and one somehow already having lost his shoes.

“I can’t believe you did this to me,” Remus says.

Dora grimaces watching the boy run away with the knife. “I truly didn’t mean to,” she says. “I genuinely just remembered you once having said something about the boy scouts, and I spoke before I could think.”

Remus scoffs. “I’m not letting you off the hook that easy! Forcing me into this nightmare. It’ll take more than sorry for me to forgive you.”

Remus hasn’t decided yet how long he’ll wait before forgiving Dora. It’ll probably depend on how disastrous this week is going to be.

Dora is his... Well, she started out as his one night stand, then she got pregnant, and became the mother of his son. Gradually, she also became one of his closest friends. Neither of them ever had feelings for the other beyond friendship, though, save for that one night of blatant sexual attraction.

Dora rolls her eyes. “You’re being awfully dramatic, Remus. But alright. I guess I do owe you a bottle of wine, the good stuff, alright?”

Remus is about to reply, when a voice interrupts.

“Excuse me, are you Teddy’s dad?”

Remus looks up and his jaw drops. A man comes walking towards them.

And what a man.

He’s tall and lean. He has long, dark hair falling elegantly over his piercing silver-grey eyes and a bright smile on his handsome face. He has a duffle bag thrown over one, remarkably broad, shoulder.

“Uh..” Remus says eloquently.

Dora, who was also eyeing the man appreciatively, turns to look at Remus with a knowing smirk.

The man just smiles at Remus. “I believe we’ll be camp counsellors together!”

Remus blinks. “I thought I was paired with Harry’s dad?”

“Ah, yes.” The man runs a hand through his hair. “James has fallen ill, I’m afraid. He asked me to cover for him. I’m Harry’s godfather!” He holds out his hand. “I’m Sirius. The star.” He pauses for a moment, before quickly adding “I mean written as the star! God, can you imagine?” He chuckles. “One Calvin Klein photoshoot and I’d go around introducing myself as ‘the star’. No, I promise it hasn’t inflated my ego that much!”

“I’m Remus,” Remus replies, making a mental note to do a Google search for the most recent Calvin Klein add the moment he gets home.

“Nice to meet you, Remus!” Sirius replies. “James told me you were supposed to share a tent? I hope you won’t mind sharing with me?”

Remus swallows, his throat suddenly a little dry. “No, I don’t mind. Not at all.”

“Great!” Sirius beams at him. “Then we’ll be getting go know each other pretty well the coming week.” He gives Remus a wink, and it should probably be cheesy, but when Sirius does it, it’s just damn attractive.

“Oh!” Sirius exclaims. “And I hope you like S’mores!” He pats his bag. “This is almost completely filled with just chocolate and marshmallows. I hardly brought any clothes,” he admits. “So it’s a good thing I’m probably going to be walking around in my swimming trunks all week anyway!”

“Yeah,” Remus manages to say. “Good thing indeed.”

“Well, if you’ll excuse me,” Sirius says. “I promised James I’d embarrass Harry by loudly telling him his father sends him lots of love and kisses in front of all his friends. See you in the bus?”

“Uh-huh,” Remus says. He watches Sirius walk away, trying to wrap his head around the sudden appearance of a gorgeous Calvin Klein model who will be around him in only his swimming trunks all week and also share a tent with him, while bringing loads of chocolate.

“Well,” Dora says, pulling him from his thoughts. “On second thought, I’d say you owe me that bottle of wine!”

[whiskeynwriting]

The way you write ghost is so genuine and realistic, he actually seems like a real person that i can clearly imagine in real life, i love ghost x bones!!

Would you ever write heartbreaking whump/angst for them? Literally bring me to tears, i’m ready for it

Love @sanfransolomitatm (that’s me) 🤍

Challenge accepted.

Also, thank you so much for the compliments, oh my goodness. The fact that he feels like a genuine person is so flattering to me, and I'm so glad he can be portrayed that way 🥹 I am also beyond thrilled to know that you love Ghost x Bones 🥰🥰🥰

Love Is a Sin (Part Two)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x OFC "Bones"

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Word Count: 10.2k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Lord… there’s a lot. Mentions of pregnancy/pregnancy tests, loss/death, injury/gore, battle, use of weaponry, angst, mentions of past abuse, mentions/discussions of funeral details, PTSD and therapy, brain injury, major grief. 

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A/N: Here’s part two! As promised, it’s much darker. My goal here was to pull emotions out of you guys, let me know how I did (;

Read part one here 🥰

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Simon “Ghost” Riley Masterlist

Join My Taglist!

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“Alright,” Price booms, stomping into the room. “Let’s circle up. We’ve got plans to discuss.”

Already, he hates this. The entire atmosphere has shifted from light and lazy to dark and perilous. Simon can feel his heart rate increasing, his breaths deep and dragging. The mere thought of you in the field makes him want to jump up and wrap you in his arms, drag you away and hide you somewhere safe. What he hates even more than the possibility of that happening is the fact that he allowed it, he’s allowed this to happen. It wasn’t exactly his call to make, but he would’ve made it, and he didn't. 

He’s made his bed, and this time, he’s got to lay in it. 

So, without much choice, he watches his men regroup in front of him, with his partner sitting up to join in. Price tosses out the maps, Gaz whips out the compass, and Johnny’s already pulling out snacks. Tugging down his mask, Simon releases a harsh sigh, nothing that really draws anyone’s attention, though. He’s pretty much always cranky, and with you here, that trait has grown tenfold. 

When Simon reaches for your hand on the couch, your eyes widen. What the hell is he doing? But before you can react, and before anyone else has a chance to see, Johnny tosses a protein bar at the lieutenant. 

“Johnny, what the fuck?”

“Don’t be dumb.” Johnny scolds outwardly, scowling at his closest friend. 

Price can feel something lingering in the air, an awkward silence, a secret. But he pushes it away. Glancing between his teammates, he clasps his hands together. 

“Alright, let’s get to it, then.”

Here we go.

“No man’s land.” Price’s raspy voice begins, finger pressing into the map. “Are we ready for that?”

Easily, the boys respond. Gaz’s simple yes, Johnny’s hell yes, and Ghost’s ‘course we are. And with a contented smirk, Price then turns in your direction.

“Are you?”

You can’t deny the feeling of anxiety surrounding this entire mission. Every time the plans are detailed and discussed, a sort of nervous bile rises in your throat. But you’re here for a reason, and you can’t let the rest of them down. You won’t.

“Yes.” 

“Good lass. Gaz, what’ve you got?”

Kyle had performed aerial surveillance before the mission began on foot, scouting the area for more details.What he discovered wasn’t easy to stomach, but was to be expected.

“Casualties by the dozens all throughout. The cadavers are mostly soldiers, troops that had gone in before us. Some had been taken hostage, maybe two or three, but the rest didn’t survive.”

“Bones,”

Instantly, your head shoots up, looking into the blue eyes of your captain. “You stay focused on us, alright? The five of us, that means yourself, too. There’s no bother in saving any of those dead men; am I clear?” 

Swallowing, you nod. Though his words are harsh, he means well, and he’s right. Any body on that field is just that, a body, an unfortunate result of war. You have to focus on who’s alive, and keeping them alive. 

“Yes, sir.”

More than ever before, Simon wants to hold you. The muscles in his hand twitch slightly, wanting to curl his palm around your thigh in a comforting squeeze. He knows this won’t be easy for you. While you’ve seen battle before, you’ve never gone into the field as a medic. Years ago, you focused on killing. It’s a whole different ball game when you switch gears to saving.

“The reason they all died,” Kyle continues, “Is because they didn’t have you.”

Looking his way, you find a reassuring grin. Returning his encouraging words is your simple nod, a small sense of pride shifting in your features. Your team believes in you. 

“When we get across to the building, and that is a when,” The captain clarifies, “Bones will find coverage. She will not be infiltrating with us. In hiding, she’ll wait for our radio. Once we’ve confirmed our kill count, we’ll leave the building… completely empty of souls.”

And when he adds that last little tidbit, the boys around you hum, a certain excitement flowing through their veins. But Simon’s adrenaline rush is also coupled with anxiety. Outside alone? He questions, it’ll be far too easy for them to reach her. But your captain is confident you’ll be able to hold your own, and Ghost needs to try his hand in having faith in that. 

*

*

*

“You need to be careful with her.”

“And you need to watch yourself!” Ghost scoffs in return, inching away from his friend. “I can’t take a piss in private?”

Johnny shrugs, “Needed to piss, too.”

With a heavy groan, Simon rolls his eyes, redirecting himself to the task at hand, literally.

“What do you mean, anyways?”

“You’ve gone soft.”

“For her.” He mumbles, and Johnny’s brows raise.

“Holy shite.”

“Shut it, Johnny. There’s nothing wrong with it.” It’s not just Soap he’s trying to convince. 

“But there’s something wrong with you.” The sergeant snaps back. “You’re never like this on missions.”

Now, he doesn’t respond. If he’s honest with himself, he doesn’t know what to say; Johnny’s right. He’s too far in his own head to focus on anything else, the details of this mission fleeting tidbits in his brain.

“You need to get your head on straight before you get yourself hurt.”

Again, he’s right. Acting like this is dangerous. You’re an incredible distraction for him, you have been since day one. But this isn’t something he can fight. Last night was… something else. It was different, dare he even say special. It was the most intimate moment you’ve shared. There’s no denying it, Simon feels tied to you. 

“Simon,” He then says, truly drawing Ghost’s attention. “I’m happy for you, I really am. I’ve never seen you take such a liking to a person… aside from me.” With that, he nudges his shoulder, grinning.

“Get on with it, Johnny.” But beneath the mask, he’s smiling, too.

“I think you’d be an idiot to lose this, her.” He states, accent just as strong as his candid nature. “And anywhere else, it’d be a great thing. But not here, not now.”

At this, Simon turns his head toward his friend, eyeing him beneath the forest’s dimness. It’s grown dark out, the trees hiding the cabin well enough to be comfortable for another night. And he knows once he goes back inside, he’ll cozy up next to you.

“She’s a teammate out here.” Johnny says, ending his ramble. “Nothing more.” And with that, Johnny’s zipping himself up to head back inside.

That last statement rings throughout Simon’s head, barreling through any sentimental thought. He’s close with his teammates, would do almost anything for them. But for you, he’s wondering what he wouldn’t do. Johnny’s words were true, but it doesn’t really help his situation. He can’t shove down his feelings for you. Sure, he can restrain himself from being outwardly affectionate. But keeping you safe? That was a priority for him. 

Back inside, everyone’s picked a spot in the living room. A few blankets had been dragged out from the bedroom, one for each of you to lay on. And with your Mylar thermal blankets, you were more than warm enough for the night. Simon can see you huddled up beneath the shiny material in the far corner of the living area, right beside the couch. Your back is up against the wall and Simon can already see that you’ve laid a blanket out for him right next to you. 

Sometimes, your relationship feels like a school-age crush. Saving a seat for each other at the lunch table, pulling out chairs for the other, giving and trading snacks, all nonverbal gestures that are just… sweet, considerate. Evidence of an unspoken connection. 

“Thanks, love.” Simon mumbles, grunting as he lays down on the tattered fabric.

“No problem.” You’re laying on your side, already smiling at him.

“Stop lookin’ at me like that.” Settling on his left side, he faces you with his back toward the group. 

“Why? Are you blushing?” Teasingly, you grin, watching the corners of his eyes crinkle. He’s smiling. And you’d give anything to see it. 

“Shut up.” The roll of his eyes is such a tell-tale sign for him; he could never be annoyed with you, not truly. 

Turning slightly, Simon settles on his back. Within the cabin’s darkness, you scooch a little closer, nuzzling into his side. His bulking body hides you, too, his insides burning bright with affection when your lips press against his covered bicep, wet from the snowfall during his earlier outdoor excursion. But you don’t mind. You’re not as close as you were last night, or the night previous in your little tent, but this will do. You’ll take what you can, because you always sleep so soundly next to him. 

Simon can tell you’re sleeping well, your snores are evidence of that. And in the darkness of night, he almost feels comfortable again. There isn’t a single worry in his mind regarding the lads, he’d even grown the confidence to wiggle his arm beneath your head, pulling you into him. However, there were many worries brewing in his head about you. More than ever before, he feels a need to preserve this, to keep your relationship intact. He loathes the fact that this happened here, your expression of love for him. If anything, he wishes it’d happened back at base, somewhere truly safe and private. 

Guiding him away from such anxious contemplation is your soft, sleepy moan, and the movement of your hand. Lifting your palm, it slides up and over his side, resting on his chest. But you don’t stop there. Sleepy digits move around the neckline of his shirt, searching for something. And then he realizes - his dog tags. Once found, you cling to them, body curling into his side even more than before. Jesus, do you pull every ounce of sweetness from him. The simple motion makes him sigh, eyes closing as he revels in this. He hopes he never loses this. 

It was an action you’d done a few times before, something that’s almost become routine. Every other night, it seems, you like to play with them. Awake or asleep, you find some sense of comfort with the small, metal plates. They represent him, his existence, the man that he is. 

*

*

*

For some reason, you thought this would be… louder, scarier, more intense than it is. Although, it’s just the approach, just the simple shuffle of feet through the woods. Maybe you expected the enemy to be ready, to pounce on you once you were a foot outside the cabin. But it seems Price was successful with his planning. You’re going to surprise them.

With weapons up and at the ready, you move slowly, steadily, scanning the area as you approach. The air is still, a small chill moving through the woods. It holds you captive, steals your breath and haunts your bones. Something is coming.

Each of you are spaced a bit from the other, a few yards in between each of your teammate’s movements. With your rifles up and aimed, you wonder, what are you aiming for? Any man? A possible vehicle? Movement throughout the slightly rocky terrain? Jesus, it’s been years since you’d been at this. But you’re ready, you can feel it. 

Raising a fist, Price signals your halt. Each of your steps still, your breaths held while your hearts pound. What does he see?

As soon as you all stop, Ghost is looking to his right, assessing you. Your gun’s safety is off, you’re holding it properly, and your stance is right on. The sight makes him proud.

That’s my girl.

Through the comms, Soap’s voice comes through. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Five men, weapons in hand and flanking right.”

“Approaching?” Ghost’s gruff voice inquires, eyes narrowing.

“Not yet; they’re flanking to opposite sides of the building, crouching. They’re ready for us, lads.”

So much for the element of surprise.

“We’re crouching. Continue approach, and watch yer heads.”

“Sir.” Johnny responds, his voice firm. 

In unison, your group moves forward, scopes searching for this small group of men. Movement to the left of the building calls for your attention, and you wonder…

“Are we shooting?” Whispering into the comms, you keep your eye on a rustling bit of brush, the top of a man’s head clearly visible.

“Not yet. Stay out of their line of fire.” Price returns, stern with his command. 

Irritation courses through you, as you now have a clear visual of the enemy’s head. Still, you return with gritted teeth, “Aye.” 

“Boys, line up.” He then decides, “Left to right, we’re each taking a man. Bones, keep eyes on your current target, and wait for my go ahead.”

“Yes, sir.” 

With Ghost on your left, Price is directly to your right, and then Gaz and Soap. Each man walks on until they find their target within the group, sounding off into the comms once this first step is done. 

“We drop ‘em together, swift and silent.” 

“Aye.”

“Sir.”

“Yes, sir.”

And then, your turn. “On your signal, Price.” He can tell you’re getting agitated, and it humors him. 

Looking off to his left, Price can see you through the brush with his own eyes. Returning his gaze, you witness his amused smirk, an expression that aggravates you further. He’s such a father figure, holding you back before you make a wrong move, guiding you toward the correct path.

“Shoot.”

Just as he predicted, your targets drop in unison. A single bullet zips through each man’s head, penetrating their skulls and knocking them dead. On your own target, a spurt of blood shoots from his skin as he drops, the firm thud of his body heard even from your position. 

“Advance.”

Shuffling your feet, you roll your shoulders, breaths steady as you walk toward the building. The surrounding cover of forest you’d been using is starting to wear thin; when you’re on unmarked land, there’ll be close to nothing keeping you from getting hit. 

“Halt.” The word isn’t rushed or frantic, but demanding as all hell.. 

No man’s land is only a few yards away from where you stand, the bodies of dead men scattering the dusty earth. From the angle you’re at, you’re unable to see their wounds directly. But that’s just fine, the sight would only distract you. 

“Landmines.”

“Where?” Immediately, Ghost is speaking, having to actively stop his feet from moving closer to you.

“Surrounding the perimeter.” Price clarifies, heavy breaths coming through the radio’s static. “Retrieve your GPR’s.”

While the Ground Penetrating Radars in your packs aren’t exactly ideal, they’re still useful. Though smaller than the usual model, they can detect the electrical current of the explosive. However, it can also confuse any type of metal with a mine, too. Being that many, if not all of these bodies have dog tags around their necks, this could be difficult. 

As you continue on, you hear the occasional notification, the small sound from one of your teammate’s readings. And at first, it’s terrifying. Every time you hear a machine go off, you expect an explosion. But these aren’t rookies you’re dealing with; they have decades of expert experience. You thought that’d make this a piece of cake.

Propelled through the air, your body is flung into a pit. The shrill ring in your ears prevents you from accurately hearing the shouts of your team, eyes blinking widely as you regain your bearings. What… happened? Who set one off?

Before you can hear the words of your comrades, the quick zip of lead rushes through the air. The ringing in your head only heightens now, your first instinct being to duck. Shoving yourself further into the pit, your bruised body rolls down the multiple mounds of dirt, finally landing at the bottom. 

Cocking your gun, you almost can’t seem to get air in fast enough. You’re already bleeding from the side of your head, nothing extreme but it will definitely have to be looked at. For now, though, you need to come back down. Looking to your left, you’re relieved to see that you aren’t alone. That is, until you identify them. 

William Anderson

John Davis

Henry Miller

You don’t know any of them.

Eyes scanning the surrounding figures, they widen, breaths now coming all too quick. It’s like you’re seeing zombies; some eyes are open, black and bloodied and staring into your soul. Others are closed, having embraced the sweet release of death. Limbs have been blown off, flesh rotting as it mixes with the dirt. Legs and arms are twisted, distorted in otherworldly ways. Torn pieces of their uniforms, dog tags that have yet to be collected. Hair muddled and out of code, jaws open and broken. 

But the medic in you comes to. Regardless of the injury on your head, and the fresh bruises on your limbs, you move. Whipping out a pair of latex gloves, you scramble toward the dead men. Reaching for their necks, your fingers curl around the circular metals to grab and tear them from their chains. Blood smears across your covered fingers, flesh moving as you dig through clothes to find some of the identification. Hurriedly, you stash them away, using the inner compartment of your jacket. They deserve to be remembered. 

“Bones!”

“Copy.” Your voice is rushed, panting on the other end as you collect what remains of the lives now lying dead.

“Get to Gaz.”

“Location?”

“East of the building, along the treeline.”

Shit. Right now, you’re on the opposite end. Regardless, your response is, “Copy.”

Now that you’ve given yourself a moment, you can fully hear the surrounding commotion. You can also hear the way Ghost has been frantically calling your name through your personal comms. 

“Bones? Bones?! Fucking Christ, please.”

“Ghost, I’m here.”

And that scares you more than anything. You’ve never heard him so distressed.

“Where are you?”

As soon as you were out of sight, Simon was an absolute fucking mess. It took everything in him not to leap after you into that trench, doing his best to remind himself that you've done this before. You’re good at your job and you can take care of yourself but he needs to take care of you.

The field has never felt so chaotic before. And he usually loves this, the thrill is just too addicting. But right now, he can’t get his head on straight, not until he hears your voice.

“In a pit.” Replying quietly, you gain the courage to glance over the edge. From here, you can see the far east side of the building. That’s where you need to be. 

“Still?!” Simon replies, ducking behind a boulder before reaching over and taking a few shots. “You need to move!” 

“Heading for the building’s east side.”

Simon was still in the forest when the landmine went off, far enough away to not get hit with the explosion or any of its remnants. But he saw how hard you took the hit, and immediately wished it was him. 

“Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,  ba - Ghost. I’m fine.” Your correction makes him chuckle, even within this bedlam. 

“Ghost!” Soap screams his way, “Ya cannae just stand there!”��

Dumbly, Ghost blinks at him.

“Move!”

Taking his own advice, and that of his closest friend, Ghost switches his position. Johnny watches as he pushes forward, following his eyeline only to find you on the end of it. And concern fills the pit of his stomach. Clearly, Ghost isn’t advancing toward the building; he’s watching your six perfectly. 

Another group of enemies leak from the building, evidenced by the collective thud of their feet. But peeking out over the edge again might as well be your demise, as you’re immediately targeted by two men. 

Eyes widening, you duck back down, head running rampant with ideas. You can’t stay here, you don’t have any chance of survival in this pit. They have the advantage, higher ground. And you need to at least be level with them. 

Reaching for your gun, you’re suddenly hit with the realization that your rifle is gone. Head whipping in every direction, you’re unable to find it in your frantic search. It must’ve flung from your body when you were hit. Onto option number two, your pistol. But retrieving it from the holster does nothing for you; a large piece of shrapnel has blown right through it.

“Motherfucker.”

Frustration doesn’t come close to what you’re feeling, but you need to push that aside and find new cover. Scrambling up the side of the ditch, you aim for the forest, which is unfortunately even further away from Gaz. But as soon as you’re up, you’re turning, the two men now only yards away. Ducking away from two shots, you feel yourself stumble backwards a bit. Sweat drips down into the wound on your head, down your neck and chest. Reaching back, your hand finds a tree to rest on briefly, readying yourself for this fight. But then, seemingly out of thin air, one of them drops. 

“I’ve got your six.” You knew he did.

Your fixed blade has now become your best friend, quickly gravitating to your hand. They, on the other hand, choose to handle this with fists. The man isn’t much larger than you, allowing you to keep your footing as he swings. Your feet plant firmly in the earth, one further behind to keep your balance. A quick slice across his face surprises him, giving you the opportunity for a stab to the upper chest. The blade sinks into his skin, tearing through muscle to reach his most vital organ. Among all the adrenaline in your veins, you bare your teeth, raising your fists to break his jaw with your hand. Kicking him in the groin knocks him to his knees, allowing you to shift your stance. Standing behind his crumpled form, you grab a fistful of his hair, yanking his head up and back. Tugging the knife from his chest, you slide it smoothly across his neck, spilling a warm redness down his front before inevitably tossing him to the dirt.

“Damn.” 

Turning, you rush into the forest, doing your best to evade the current chaos. Ducking through the brush, you make your way back to the start point, searching for Gaz. He must be wounded, and in turn, hiding.

“Bones,” Crackling through your comm link is his voice, a big ragged. “Three yards ahead.”

Once you’ve followed his instructions, you find him lying behind a fallen tree. He’s used a good amount of brush to cover himself, which he pushes away once you’re close enough. 

“Can you just patch it up?”

In the moment, you almost breathe out your inner words, oh shit. But you don’t want to frighten him. The sight is gruesome, though, genuinely gorey. His left leg is mangled, three pieces of shrapnel in his stomach and two in his chest. Truthfully, you’ve never seen such torn, wet flesh on a living man. It’s hanging off the bone, tendons visible as they cling to what muscle they can. The shrapnel in his midsection oozes blood but not too much, and probably won’t fully spill until the metal is removed. However, you still retrieve your quickest blood clotting agent for the wounds. Gaz hisses through his teeth at the burn of it, the sensation sizzling through his body. Lastly, applying a good coat of saline to his lower leg will aid in reducing infection, as well as wrapping it entirely.

“Can you move?”

“Not anymore.” His voice is low, strained.

“Where is Price? Did he get hit?”

Nodding, Gaz applies a bit of pressure to his biggest wound. “Nah, he moved on.”

“He didn’t have any injuries?”

“He was too far ahead of the blast.

“Jesus.” No wonder Kyle is so badly mangled, he’s the only one that got hit.  

Glancing around, you begin to witness the small creep of fog covering the area. The nighttime air turns thick, and thunder rolls gently overhead. And you can’t see anyone else, the rest of your team is fighting. 

“We need to move you.”

“I have enough cover here. You couldn’t even find me.”

“Gaz,”

“Please just go,” Head lying back on the moss, he sighs. “Finish the mission, bring me home when you’re done.”

With a defeated and aggravated sigh, you concede. “Are you still armed?”

“To the teeth.” He confirms, now realizing your lack of weaponry. “Where’s your rifle?”

“Blown off when your dumbass decided to step on a landmine.” And the snarky remark makes him smile. “And my pistol was hit by some shrapnel.”

“Take mine.”

“Don’t be dumb.”

“I have my pistol, you haven't got shit.”

“Kyle.”

“You need it. Go.”

“Bones, cover me at the forest’s east edge.”

“Copy.” Giving Gaz one last judgmental glare, you snatch his rifle, heading off toward your captain.

Crouching low, you begin to crawl when you hear heavy fire again. Price is taking shots from behind a fallen tree’s trunk, watching you inch over to his side.

“How’s Gaz?”

“Alive.” Shrugging, you try to calm your breaths. Looking into John’s blue eyes does well in accomplishing that. “What’s the plan?”

Lifting a shoulder, he speaks into the comms while holding your gaze. “Ghost and Soap take the right. Bones and I will flank the left.”

“We’ve lost our GPR’s.” Soap’s Scottish accent shines through the static. 

“Bloody fuckin’ -  how?”

“Dropped mine during Gaz’s hit.”

“And Ghost?”

“Lost it in a fight.”

Price scoffs, shaking his head with a whisper of, “Children.” 

“Sir?”

“Just get it done. Use your knowledge, your experience, and tread lightly.”

When Price finishes his sentence, you feel an internal pull to your right. Turning your head, you’re met with a pair of strikingly dark eyes. Yards away, beneath the cover of shrubs, Simon’s stare penetrates your heart. 

“Are you hurt?” He whispers into your ear, stare holding firm.

All you do is shake your head, and he nods. “Good.”

“Let’s move.” Price then commands, moving toward the building’s right.

Creeping backwards, you swallow. You don’t want to lose sight of him, but you have a job to do. As you turn, you witness Ghost stand, his form towering over the dark green foliage. By the way he moves, you can tell he’s about to follow Johnny. But he stops to take one more look at you, before he grunts.

Sharply, the left side of his body jerks backward, feet staggering a bit. Eyes widening, you lean forward, watching the bullet go right through Ghost’s upper chest. The gasp that leaves your lungs is too loud for your liking, but before you can do much more than that, Ghost is pulling out another gun. With a loud grunt, he aims and fires, dropping a man not too far from you. And with rage now lighting up his insides, he steps forward, reholstering his pistol so he can grab his rifle again. Marching on, you watch as he shoots down five more men, clearing a path straight for the building. With genuine amazement, you watch him, peering over the edge of the fallen log to see every man now narrow their sights to him. But he’s a freight train of a man, listening to the men’s shouts and their weapons, ducking behind anything he can before reappearing with vengeance. Ultimately, though, it’s a dumb move. It’s left him out in the open. 

Going against Price’s orders, you set your rifle atop the fallen wood, watching his back. Aiming for the roof, you eliminate the targets up top while Ghost focuses on those surrounding him. And then Soap is appearing, stepping out from the treeline with his pistol out and ready. The way he stomps forward, the way his biceps bulge when he pulls the trigger, the look in his eye while he protects his teammate… it’s inspiring. 

“Did I tell you to stay here?!” Yanking you backward by the straps of your vest, Price hauls you off with him.

Like a bumbling baby, you stumble backward, finding your footing just as Price lets you go. Together, you advance toward the building’s right side. You can already see an area for coverage, a large cluster of rocks off the side of a steep hill. It’ll give you enough space to hide while waiting for the boys to get inside. 

For some reason, Simon expected you to stay back when he started mowing down a path through these men. He knows Price gave you an order, but in the back of his head, he thought you’d see that he had this handled. There wasn’t anything more you needed to do, he could do this for you. And that’s exactly why you stayed back for a moment, for as long as you could before Price pulled you back into battle, distracting Simon once again.

Head snapping to his right, he witnesses your eager lurch from the forest. You and the captain are ready for this attention, though, weapons drawn as you appear on the field. And it all seems to be going to plan now. Gaz is safe and handled for the moment, Ghost has an injury and so do you, but ultimately, you’re moving; you’re advancing, you’re winning.

Small trickles begin to drip from the sky, the product of the thunder you’d heard not so long ago. And for some reason, the moment freezes. You look up, witnessing the rain as it now freely falls; a moment of peace before your life’s most damaging event. 

Another explosion.

Ever the father figure, Price’s fingers once again curl around your vest. He’s tossing you around like a ragdoll today, and right now, it’s because you lunged forward into combat. Flopping to the ground with a huff, your breaths escape your lungs, the wind completely knocked from your chest. And still, you crawl forward, hyperventilating while your eyes search. 

At this point, even John is a little frazzled, neither one of you speaking until you hear the shouts of your sergeant. 

“Bones!” He’s screaming, voice full of emotion because, well… he never thought this would happen. “Get to Ghost! Get to Ghost!”

And now, your stomach drops into your fucking ass. They didn’t hit a landmine, Simon did.

This time, Price can’t do anything to stop you. You’re scrambling forward, eyes darting around the field until Johnny whispers breathily into the comms, “In that ditch.”

A few yards ahead, Johnny steps in front of you, guarding your body from the men approaching. Price does the same, knowing it’s just the two of them now. 

Dirt mixes to mud and smears across your hands, thick clumps sticking to the edges of your jacket. The wetness soaks through your knees to the entirety of your pants, the gentle drip now turning into a torrential downpour. Above your head, lightning strikes, thunder shaking the ground so fiercely that you end up slipping over the edge of the ditch. Falling headfirst into the crater, you land beside Simon’s motionless body. 

“Si -” With heaving breaths, you crawl over to him. Swallowing, you lay a hand on his chest. “Simon.”

This is different than before, different than when you dealt with Gaz. Your heart is beating out of your chest, and you could almost throw up from nerves. So far, you’ve done well at putting your emotions aside during situations like this, but not now. Not when it’s the man you love.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, it just doesn’t make sense. Not with your team’s experience and expertise, their strength and comradery; how did you find yourselves here? Each member was chosen for a specific reason, the best Price could get. Is that true? Have you really done your best? 

Lifting his head slightly, Simon looks in your direction. And what you see is haunting. One eye swollen, the other filling with red. His left arm is distorted, both legs twisted in ways that aren’t human. There’s barely anything left of his right thigh, but that’s not where the biggest injury is. Looking up, you see that it’s on his head.

“Simon.” Shuffling forward, your eyes widen, hands immediately reaching for his head. 

Crimson warmth soaks the side of his mask, a small indent visible. He has definite brain damage, and your heart sinks at that fact. What will he be like after this?

“Let me help.” You’re whispering to yourself, mainly, because you assumed he’d let you. But he protests. 

“No,” His voice is still low and gruff, trying to continue being the brave man he knows he can be. 

“I have gauze, and blood clotting agents.” Turning you shuffle through your pack, retrieving a fresh pair of latex gloves. 

Immediately, you’re dousing him in a cool saline solution, watching his body writhe softly from it. But before wrapping any of his wounds, you focus on his head first. Leaning forward, your hands swipe across the hard skull covering his face, sloppily wiping away the blood and dirt. But your actions become frantic, fingers sliding over your lover’s face in an attempt to see him again, to look into his eyes despite this misfortune. Simon listens to your gasps and pants, emotional huffs spilling from your lips. In your panicked state, the gloves break. And in any other setting, you'd care about this cross-contamination. But you don’t even hesitate. The mud sticks to your fingers, Simon’s blood caking beneath your nails as you continue to clean him. Seeing him laid out like this, body free of any movement, any sort of intention, it’s pulling at your soul. It’s not him, he’s leaving you. 

“I need to see.”

He just ignores you, right hand reaching down toward his belt. It’s the only limb that hasn’t been mutilated, and he uses it to detach his mags. Moving as best he can, he hands them to you, round after round of bullets without a single word leaving his lips. And what really breaks you, what finally does you in, is the sound of him gurgling quietly on his own liquid insides. It’s now that every emotion breaks free, every single feeling you’d been bottling up and pushing aside, each one obliterates the firm dam of your determination and pride. 

“Here.” He grunts, “Ammo.”

“Stop.” It’s all you can say because if you speak any more, you’re sure you’ll just embarrass yourself. 

“Bones.” He states firmly, the eye not swollen shut staring up at you with… something. He’s thinking. 

“Stop, Simon.”

“Please.” He pleads with you quietly, watching the first tear roll down your face.

“Simon… let me see, let me help.” Reaching forward again, you watch the rise and fall of his chest, you watch as it slows. He was right, the lungs give everything away. 

Squirming, his head turns to the side. “Simon, please. I need to - I need to take off your mask.”

The pain he’s experiencing is at a level he’s not felt in quite some time. His insides burn, feeling stiff around the shrapnel penetrating his muscle. And the injury to his head is making him feel fuzzy. Every time he looks up at you, you are surrounded by a black fog. His vision is leaving him, but he still sees you. 

A burst of memory overcomes him when he turns back in your direction, forcing breath after painful breath into his lungs. Replacing you is the vision of his mother, beautiful brown curls and dark brown eyes, the very eyes she’d given to him. The child in him wants to reach out, only to see her pull away. In her stead is now his father, fist slamming into him. Her neglect, her absence, while his father abused him like this, it’s all he can really remember. Trauma is funny like that, deciding which memories to banish and which ones to keep. It’s similar to the way he remembers school, the bullying, the loneliness that always seemed to chase his very being. Life was never something to be enjoyed, just motions to move through. 

But then he met you, and you made life exciting. Exciting in a way that wasn’t dangerous, exciting in a way that made him feel at home, at peace. Your love, your memories, are what’s most important to him now. The first time you met, the first intimate moment you shared. Smoking together, sleeping together, caring for and protecting each other. Simon can remember a specific moment now, one of his favorites. 

“It’s kinda funny,” He’d quirked a brow at you beneath the covering, listening to you continue. “I know you better than your own government documents.”

He’d laughed at this, because you were right. 

“Don’t get cocky about it, now.” Simon chastised lightly, eyes crinkling ever so slightly with a hidden smile. 

“I wish there was more, though.”

“How do you mean?”

“You do so much, so many important things. There should be more record of you, more details about your life, babe. You’re an impressive man, people should know about that.”

And while your words made his pride swell a little larger, he only sighed. “That’s part of the job, sweets. Anonymity.” 

Smiling, you leaned forward, slinking your arms around his neck. “Maybe, but not to me.” Kissing the tip of his nose, you whispered, “You’ll always be important to me.”

Simon never planned on being remembered. There was no one he was willing to give that burden to. But, selfishly, he wants to be remembered by you. 

“Baby,” When your voice cracks, Simon blinks, those dark eyes watching the flow of your silent tears. “Please let me.”

And he thinks, how is she going to remember me like this? A man without a face? And so, he decides to give this to you. There’s nothing left to lose. He knows you’re taking it off to help him, but he’s allowing it for different reasons; call it a parting gift. 

When he doesn’t respond this time, your fingers find the edge of his mask. With a great amount of hesitancy, they curl beneath the dampened fabric, lifting it slowly. One by one, each feature is revealed. His chin and jawline, his lips, all traits you’ve seen and openly admired many times before. But then there’s his nose, something you’ve never seen in its entirety. There’s a deep scar running right across the bridge of it, cutting down into his cheek. And as you continue on, you can barely handle the violent thump of your heart’s beat. 

Finally, the fabric falls from his head, revealing to you his identity, Simon’s true self. 

Surprisingly, you smile. His hair is blonde, straight and not too long. Absentmindedly, you lift a hand, fingers stroking carefully through the messy strands. A laugh leaves you, some sort of twisted happiness found in this moment. And then your eyes lower, finding his steadfast gaze. Languidly, he blinks, blonde lashes fanning over his cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” He admits, coughing. “I’m sorry it had to be like this, seeing me.”

“You’re so perfect.” Leaning further in, your hands cup his face. He doesn’t even mind the tears that drip down onto his skin. “Simon.”

“Just know that I do…” Trailing off, Simon shakes his head, releasing an emotional breath. “Love you.”

“I love you,” Releasing any sense of restraint, you express, “I love you more than anything.” 

You’re choosing not to look at his head because you know it's bad, you know it. And there’s nothing you can do for him with what you have. He needs more than saline and wraps for this. 

“So,” Grunting, he again lifts his right hand. “Think you’ll be needing this.”

With a harsh yank, he rips one of the circular metals from the chain around his neck. And your heart sinks, pulse thumping in your ears. As best he can, he reaches across his body, holding it out for you.

“Give it to Price.”

“That’s not how this is going to end.”

“And then,” Continuing about his task, Simon sets the silver coin on your lap. “You can keep the other.” 

“Simon.”

“It’s not much but, if you want to remember me…”

“Simon Riley.” You want him to stop talking like this, you’d do anything to stop this. 

Barely, he nods, a single shift of his head as he tells you gruffly, “Yours.” 

His eyes stay open until the life seemingly leaves, stare going blank mere seconds after that promise. Without thinking, your fingers curl around the identification sitting in your lap, your other hand still holding his handsome face. But it then leaves, nails digging into the mask lying beside him as your head drops, hanging loosely over your chest. A guttural sob is then released, your insides tearing you open and leaving you emotionally defenseless. Sucking in a thick gulp of air, you know what you need to do. Preserving Simon’s dignity and anonymity, you slide the mask over him again, hiding his face from the enemy. And from you, once again. 

*

*

*

Simon,

I still wear your dog tags tag, I never take it off. It stays beneath my shirt when I sleep, when I go to work. It’s cold, like your mask. I still don’t know where that is, Price won’t tell me. But I stole your cologne, they didn’t get that. I think that would make you laugh. You used to make me laugh. 

I don’t know what to do now, or where to go. I just think of you. 

Strangely, it helps. You know he’ll never write back, but that’s not really the point. This is about you, and it does help… sometimes. Although, Simon never believed in an afterlife, you’re not writing to anyone. This was just something a therapist on base suggested, an exercise to help with your grief. Words you’ve begged life itself to say to him, to be able to speak to him again. 

At times, you’re angry. With yourself and with him. You were a distraction, Johnny knew it, Price probably knew it. You did this to him. And at the same time, your extended mourning is his doing, too. He didn’t give you anything, not a burial site to visit, no ashes to keep. Nothing that allows you to visit him, or at least visit his memory. Simon always wanted to be cremated, have his ashes scattered who knows where. Nowhere important, somewhere to forget. He didn’t get the chance to change these plans after meeting you, though, and he’d regret that. 

The funeral was small, smaller than it should have been considering he died in battle and with honors. There was no way of avoiding a celebration, though, no matter how much he’d protested to it in life. But if there was one thing Simon definitely wanted, it was to be as far away from Manchester as possible; he never wanted to go back there. And with each of you carrying his casket on your shoulders, you made sure of that. He was honored on the training field back at base, body tucked away in a coffin before being cremated. The ceremonial move of the reversed arms was performed, your heads bowed in respect. It was only the four of you with him, the closest thing to family he’d ever really known. The Union Flag covered the finished pine, and you thought, how many more layers of fabric would keep you from seeing him?

Taking your newest letter, you get to your designated Jeep and drive. Every time, you go back to your secret little spot, the place where you’d connected so many times. You even sit in the backseat, the one behind the driver’s side. That’s where you always sat with him.

The stare you give this hand-written note might as well burn holes into it, the edge of your cigarette threatening to do so if your eyes don’t. Packs of nicotine laced joints have found their way to you quite often since Simon’s death, more and more every day. It tastes like him, his lips.

Sometimes, late at night, the boys still hear you cry. You try to do most of it in the shower, drowning out your tears with the louder noise. Throughout the day, you’ll keep it inside, and they’ve all noticed. You’re blank, rendered nearly emotionless as you move through the motions of each day. 

But what’s more important during the night, is him. If you drink enough, you can see him - you swear it. His eyes staring down at you, blinking, body laying beside you on the bed. He holds you. He’ll kiss the back of your neck, tell you I do, I love you. His palm presses to your own, fingers intertwining before he pulls it to him, covered lips moving to the back of your hand. Everything is a memory, but you refuse this. Simon loves you, he comes back just to tell you. You’ll always be thankful you told Simon that you love him.

Johnny takes a sudden special interest in you. For weeks, he hesitates to approach your door when he hears you cry. But he finally caves when he passes by the washrooms one night, a night where the boys have gone for a drink and the base is all but empty. 

Initially, he thought you were hurt. With how hard you were sobbing, breaths tight and airy, he was sure you were injured. Bursting through the doors, he found you on the ground of one of the shower stalls. 

“Lass, wha - ” 

But there was nothing, no blood, no broken glass or anything that could have brought you harm. And then, he sees it, the pile of your personal belongings. Your shower bag and towel are sitting on the closest bench, with a few items scattered on the floor. And Johnny doesn’t know much about pregnancy, but he knows a test when he sees one.

“Bones…”

“He’s fucking gone,” Your voice is hoarse from your wailing, form crumpled and laying on the wet tile while water sprays over you. “Why couldn’t he have left me something? Anything?!”

It’s negative.

In a last attempt to save something, to preserve any part of him, you’d taken the test. Several, actually. But it’s futile; there’s truly nothing left of him. 

How could you feel so fucking empty? So lost? What was the meaning of life now? What was the meaning before you met him? There was nothing before him. 

Johnny picked you up off the floor that night, leaning in to first turn off the shower before bending at the knees to wrap you in your towel. You let him carry you; with the break in your heart you didn’t really have much strength left in you. So, you leaned on him, walking with his steps as he guided you back to your room. And he dried you, dressed you, and then he held you. 

Nothing was discussed, you didn’t speak about it, him. He just sat there on your bed with you, arms wrapped tight around your body, heaving chests pressed against each other as Soap’s eyes spilled over with tears, too. He let you bury your face into his neck, fingers pulling at the edges of his mohawk. It overtakes you, the grief. The all consuming power of it floods your body, greedy in its conquest as it watches you crumble in defeat. 

Johnny made this promise weeks ago, not exactly sure when but he knows it’ll hold true. He’s made a silent vow to Simon; he’ll take care of you. 

For a while, you refuse to let Johnny sleep in your room. He had nowhere to rest but your bed and that extra space was for Simon. But then he offered to sleep on the floor one night, admitting quietly that it wasn’t just for you. It was for him, too. So, you let him keep you company, opening up and giving in to your collective misery. 

Johnny watched the way you curled up with your pillows, watched your face scrunch as you twisted and turned, trying to find some form of sleep. It only came when your hand found your chest, clutching Simon’s last bit of identification. 

Your sergeant found comfort in reading, in literature and even poetry. Some written by war veterans and forever-changed soldiers. One poem in particular spoke to him, and he wanted to give it to you. And for some reason, it offered you incredible solace; it so deeply reminds you of Simon. 

If I should die, think only this of me:

      That there’s some corner of a foreign field

That is for ever England. There shall be

      In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;

A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,

      Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam;

A body of England’s, breathing English air,

      Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.

And think, this heart, all evil shed away,

      A pulse in the eternal mind, no less

            Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;

Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;

      And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,

            In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.

Rupert Brooke

Waking up is difficult, but getting out of bed is actually pretty easy. It’s only because you've been running on auto-pilot, relying on your routines to keep you moving. Johnny said it’s good for you, consistency, and he’s right. He’s really helped keep you together these past few months. At times, Simon helps, but there’s only so much he can do. 

The nightmares come and go, and so do the terrors. You’ll wake up in a cold sweat, hyperventilating with tears running down your face and neck. But more often than not, it’s pure psychological torture. The nightmares occur far more often, and you know what? The meaning behind them is true. Some awful creature sitting on your chest, pressing down onto your body so you’re unable to breathe properly, staring at your face as its intentions wriggles inside your head, creating hellscapes you never otherwise could have imagined. That’s exactly what it feels like, it’s exactly what you go through.

Psychologists define it as post-traumatic stress, and you’ve come to accept that. At first, you’d tell them every detail, every new event. The occurrence of you taking a pregnancy test, that’s a new predicament, a new attempt at preserving him. Maybe one day, it’ll be positive. Nevertheless, you don’t tell them as much anymore. It’s all the same, anyway. 

There have been some changes recently, mainly toward the medical rooms. Courtesy of Captain Price, you’ve been given a private office. The room you’d been in originally, the one that overlooked the training yard, is now solely used for training-related events. Sprains and torn muscles, extra ice packs and wraps, water bottles and energy packs. Quick things for the boys to grab. 

Where do the injured men and women go?

Now, you have a full infirmary. One hall with several beds and then four private rooms for those with longer stays, too. That’s where you’re headed today, room number three, specifically. 

Tying your hair back and washing your face gives you the appearance of alertness, something you desperately need. Quite often, you find yourself lacking sleep. It also helps to not have sticky, tear-stained cheeks. You’re not sure when that will subside, but you’re not expecting it to happen anytime soon. Overwhelming emotions find you even when in his company. 

After breakfast and an entire bottle of water, you make your way to the hospital wing, readying yourself for the day’s work. It shouldn’t be too difficult, though; things are looking up. But before leaving the mess hall, you grab an extra orange. Simon always loved those. 

It’s quiet here, something you really love. It gives everyone the opportunity to focus on rest. Which is exactly why you open the door so quietly, peaking in to make sure you didn’t wake him. But he’s already up.

“Bones,”

“Hi, baby.”

The fruit in your hand is quickly made known, Simon’s reflexes ever-present. His right hand catches it with ease, setting it down on his lap so he can lift his mask.

“I can help, you know.”

“Uh-uh,” Already, he’s lifting it to his mouth and biting into the skin with his teeth. Using this method, he peels it.

“Savage.”

“Inventive.” He corrects, “That’s what you mean.”

It’s early still, and you’re the only one making rounds to him. You’ve given the remaining tasks in the hospital wing to your employees - you’re here for him. And so, you swing your chair over to his bedside, sitting and leaning forward to rest your arms and head beside him.

The hospital bedding has been shifted upward, allowing him to sit up as he eats. He’s shirtless, in nothing but boxers and his mask, with two dog tags on his chest.

“How are you?”

“Hungry as hell.” 

“They didn’t feed you?!” Sitting up, you immediately become appalled and enraged. 

“Sit down, soldier.” Simon laughs, shaking his head. “They fed me.”

“And you’re still hungry?” With a smirk, you raise a brow at him as he just shrugs. A sigh then leaves your shaking head. “Growing boy.”

“Yeah, thanks to all this.” He’s still grumpy about it, how could he not be? “Have to regrow an entire damn body.”

He’s being dramatic, but… not really.

Quietly, you admire him, allowing your love to eat in silence. You’re both used to it, the peaceful calm surrounding your interactions. It was something you always agreed on; why have meaningless conversation when you can just enjoy each other’s presence? 

His arm is wrapped, and both legs. The best surgeons the military could find enabled him to keep all four limbs, a true godsend. He hasn’t been able to move them much, though, as he’s only just started physical therapy. Easy movements for now, just wiggling fingers and toes. There’s also the task of his cognitive therapy, mainly exercises for focus and short-term memory. It’s been difficult, to say the least, but you’ve been with him through it, been to every appointment and therapy session. 

“You’re quiet.” He notes, still snacking. 

Timidly, you nod, not searching for his gaze. And at this he sighs, notes of sympathy in his breath. He knows what’s bothering you.

“More dreams?” Simon asks quietly, staring down at the woman he loves. 

Simply, you nod, tears welling in your eyes all over again. 

Simon’s recovery has been difficult, and for everyone involved. It took quite a few weeks of convincing both Price and your doctors that you were fit to care for him. Your mental state was just… shattered. And you’re still picking up the pieces. 

“Baby,” The way he says it makes your heart jolt with emotion, with an incredible sense of longing. It’s spoken so softly, so sweetly, that deep voice rumbling kindly. And just like always, it’s successful in requesting your attention. “What happened?”

Wiping his hand on the bedsheets (he knows they’ll be changed anyway), he reaches for you. Just like before, in the painful memory of your dreams, his fingers intertwine with yours, palm pressing to your own while dragging it up to his lips. And then he presses them to the back of your hand, eyes focusing on you.

“Talk to me.”

“You died,” Finally giving in, you speak. You’ve done this many times, and it’s never easy. But Simon insists that talking about these dreams will help. “Again.”

“Hm.” He nods, humming thoughtfully, giving you room to speak.

“Your funeral, ya know, the basics.” Rolling your eyes, you groan. These nightmares are everything you despise, everything you fear. “Johnny was there, too. I smoked a lot, just to remind myself of you. Wore your dog tag, held it at night. And that’s when you’d visit me; I had visions of you, Si. Laying in my bed, holding me, telling me you love me.”

“I do.”

“I know you do.” Lifting your head, your genuine smile is displayed to him. “I, um… I took a pregnancy test in this one.”

“That’s new.” 

“I know. It was negative though, and it was so heartbreaking. I just… wanted to preserve any part of you.”

The way your voice wavers forces his muscles to tighten, discomfort wreaking havoc on his body. Seeing you like this fucking breaks him. That mission should’ve never even happened, but at least it was successful in the end.

“I’m here, though, love. I’m still here.”

He knows not sleeping next to each other has been one of the biggest issues for you. Feeling his weight, it was a comforting thing that easily lulled you to sleep. And his absence often brought on these terrifying dreams. 

“I know, baby.” Nodding, you sniffle, doing your best to not release your silent weeps. He’s right, he’s here. Everything is alright, you’re both healing and you’re together. That’s all that matters now. 

Contemplating his next decision, Simon grunts, sitting up straighter on his bed. Releasing your hand, he then reaches for your chin. Your lips bloom into a smile as he tilts your head up toward him, his lips, jawline, and chin visible to you. And Christ, how you wish you could see more. You can vaguely remember his face, the features he showed you before what he was sure was certain death. But it’s traumatic to recall it, and he’s refused to show himself  to you ever since. The injury to his brain has made him… insecure, in a way. He hasn’t even kissed you since all of it.

“Have a surprise for ya.” He then reveals, smacking his lips while swallowing the last bit of fruit available to him.

“Really?” Doubt laces your tone. What could he have possibly done for you in this condition? 

“C’mup here.” Simon grins, pulling you in. Standing, you shift your position, now sitting on the edge of his bed. 

“What is it?” Giggling, you eye him suspiciously. “Why are you smiling at me like that?” 

Clearing his throat, Simon looks down, taking his hand away as he grabs the edges of his mask. You assume he’s going to pull it back down, now that he’s finished eating his morning snack. But you’re wrong, eyes widening as he does the exact opposite of that. 

Jaw dropping entirely, you stare in awe as he removes the soft skull, slowly sliding the black fabric from his head. It brushes through his hair, eyelids lowered as he refuses to meet your gaze for the briefest second. He knows he looks different than before, hair still trying to grow back in the spot of his injury. There’s a new cut that runs down his face, too, the upper left side of his temple. But he should know you don’t care about any of that, he’s hoping you don’t, anyway. 

And when he looks back up into your eyes, he can see a profound sense of love. Love and adoration, determination, true friendship and connection. 

“Miss me?” The cheeky bastard, lips pulled into a grin with his blonde hair disheveled and looking cute as all hell. But more importantly, his hair is clean, so much cleaner than the first time you’d seen him, no longer stained red and pink.

“You fucker,” Shaking your head, you lean in, holding his face and pressing your forehead to his. 

Simon audibly winces when his arms move, small grunts of frustration spilling from him. His right arm easily wraps around your body, firmly pulling you in. But his left barely budges, and it’s so embarrassing to him. But his struggles pause when you shift, lips pressing to his and melting away every single unpleasant sensation. It’s a distraction, you’re a fucking distraction. But it’s a good thing this time. 

“You know I did.”

The moment is broken when a knock sounds at the door, and you can’t hop off his bed fast enough. Moments later, Price walks in, a stack of documents in his hand. 

“Captain.” You greet, standing straight for him and trying not to look suspicious. 

Unmoving on the bed, Ghost just nods. “Price.”

“Good,” John steps forward, “You’re both here. Give these a look for me.”

Watching him drop the papers onto your desk, you frown. “What are those?”

“HR documents,” He begins, staring at the stack before turning his attention to both of you. “For workplace relationships.”

Your face couldn’t feel hotter.

He then points a finger at the pair of you, stating firmly, “Sign ‘em.” Before turning to leave. 

Well, there’s no hiding it now.

[nicohischierz]

marks girl: mark estapa

tag list: @calermakar08 @hockey-lover86 @tpwkvirgi80 @mackieraymond if you guys want to be added send me a message!

“dude, did you see her last night?” luke heard one of the freshman whisper, the others nodded and started telling each other about said girl. luke thought it was cute that the boys had already found a girl to crush on. 

trying to be a good captain, luke recruited dukers help to help the freshman pursue their little crush. “we heard you guys have a little thing for someone,” dylan announced approaching the group of boys. 

the boys were shocked at the statement, but nodded slowly. they looked around to make sure no one had heard them before divulging the information they had on the girl.

“so who is she,” luke asked scouting the house. rutger spotted you at the entrance and directed the boys attention.

at first dylan was a bit confused because the only person he saw was you. but then he realised who the boys were talking about and slapped luke’s arm repeatedly.

when luke saw you he wanted to laugh at the boys, except he knew better and asked them “are you talking about y/n?”

rutger didn’t know your name so he just started describing what you were wearing. luke nodded and said “yeah that’s y/n”.

the freshman plus luke and dylan were in the kitchen, the freshman all taking turns to describe encounters they had with you.

after entering the hockey house, you tried searching for your boyfriend. however, luck wasn’t on your side. instead you saw luke and decided that he was your best bet in finding mark.

“lukey!” you exclaimed running into the boys arms. put the corner of your eye you saw dylan pout and turned to him for a hug as well.

“i can’t forget about my favourite duke boy,” dylan blushed profusely as you embraced him.

the freshman stared at the three of you with their jaws dropped. except luca. you tutored him in algebra and he knew you were close to the group, what he didn’t know was that his friends were crushing on you.

feeling the stares of the other boys you turned towards them and gave them a small wave. “hi,” you greeted.

when your eyes settled on luca he tried hiding behind his brother “luca, have you finished your homework?” you asked.

luca gulped before answering “i’ll get it done before it’s due,” but at your narrowed eyes he stuttered before changing his answer “i’ll get it done tomorrow and you can check it.”

you gave him a nod and squished his cheek before looking at his teammates. “you must be adam,” you held your hand out to the other fantilli brother.

he nodded and was about to say something when two pairs of arms circled around your waists. you leaned into marks frame as he squeezed your sides.

“where have you been?” he asked pulling away from you. you gestured to the boys around and he nodded. luca smiled at mark, happy that he was saved from your wrath.

somehow, the rest of the team had joined you in the kitchen and greeted you with hugs and cheers. mark had his arm around your waist the whole time and he was always giving your cheek a kiss.

you hadn’t seen mark in days and his cheek kisses weren’t doing it for you, so you just turned yourself around and put your lips against his.

mark smirked into the kiss and brought you closer to him.

“oh my eyes, my poor innocent eyes!” eddy exclaimed covering his eyes. dylan and luke joined in as jacob shook his head at the group.

you pulled away from mark and flipped eddy off. “oh suck it edwards,” mark jeered shoving his best friend. the freshman looked stunned at the sight in front of them.

mark smirked before addressing the situation “right, boys this is my girlfriend y/n.”

there was a scattered greeting from the younger boys before one of the asked “how old are you?”

you laughed at the question when eddy answered for you “y/n/n here is a junior which makes her our very own cougar,” he joked.

you pushed ethan slightly before rolling your eyes. apparently the introduction did nothing to stop the freshman from looking at you in admiration so mark grabbed your arm and pulled you away from the group.

“you boys be good, i’m gonna spend some time with my woman,” mark called over his shoulder as the two of you ran out of the house.

[romantichomicide95]

Levi general Headcanons

Aka just my random headcanon facts about him

Levi is obviously a clean freak. He showers at least twice a day. When he’s out on missions he squirms thinking about how dirty he is, the first thing he does when he gets back is get in the shower.

He smells like mint. Mint shampoo to be exact. A subtle smell, but it’s there. He refuses to use any other sent.

He cares very deeply about his comrades but doesn’t know how to show it. If he’s extra hard on someone for messing up it’s because he doesn’t want them to die. He wants to make sure everyone is fighting to the best of their ability. He hates losing people.

My boy likes to eat. He grew up impoverished. He likes a good full meal, but he knows how to restrain himself. Probably eats in private a lot.

Levi will never ever walk barefoot anywhere. Germs and dirt and anything would drive him nuts so he always at least wears socks, even to bed.

We all know he can’t sleep very well. But if he had a s/o he would eventually get comfortable enough with them that it was the only time he could get a decent night sleep, wrapped up under the sheets with the person he loves.

He loves being big spoon because it makes him feel bigger.

He won’t admit it but he is a little insecure about his height. But he knows he makes up for it in talent so it doesn’t bother him too much.

Trusting people is very hard for him. He’d rather do things himself than ask someone else.

His fidget spinner move is accomplished because of his height and other scouts have tried emulating it and can’t do it. He finds pride in that.

He hates hugs. He’s allergic to any touch, but hugs make him very uncomfortable.

He hasn’t ever been in love. He’s never thought about it. He was too busy trying to save humanity to care.

Violence is only a means to an end to him. He doesn’t enjoy hurting people, he just knows it’s necessary sometimes and isn’t afraid to be the one to step up.

He’s very caring inside. He sucks at showing emotions, barely smiles. But it’s because he doesn’t know how. Nobody taught him how to handle them so he shoves them down inside. But he cares deeply about humanity and his fellow soldiers.

He’s loyal af. To any of his friends/comrades etc. like a cute little puppy with attitude.

He’s not a virgin. I know people hate this one. I think growing up in the underground he had sex at least once. When he was younger.

He thinks about his mom every single day.

His teeth are extremely straight and super pearly white.

When he gets sleep he leaves his uniform on.

He would prefer boxer briefs.

He only lets one person cut his hair and he would never tell you who it was.

He has nightmares.

These are just my personal Headcanons of Levi. It’s okay if you disagree :)

[tf2-oneshots]

(1/3) A three in one request with MediScout, DemoSniper and EngieSpy, where Scout and Demo are play arguing( which happens every weekend in private, because if either of their partners knew about it, they would never hear the end of it.) about who's partner is the better support, with both Impersonal ("He healed me which enabled me to snag a point" or "He headshot the enemy Soldier to save me the trouble of respawn") and Personal points in each argument  ("He called me his Most Pretty Specimen" and "He shared the secret to his family moonshine recipe") Then Engie walks in and they both ask him who's the better support. Engie replies with Neither, my partners the best : ). At which point, a second argument starts, and he is officially added into the weekly gushing about our partners to someone else.

A triple threat :0!! Hell yeah!! This will be part one of a multipart oneshot

Warnings: mild gore mention

Rating: teen and up

“Dude, Medic is the best! With his healing, I barely die anymore. The other Scout lost his shit last match.” Scout grabs a beer, popping the top off to gulp it down. He looks down at the abandoned board game on the table with pieces scattered randomly. Hopefully they can find them all when they eventually put it away.

“You should see the other Demo when Sniper ruins his sticky bomb traps. He throws a fit!” The Aussie’s sharp aim bursts the laid out bombs before the enemy comes close to activating them. Both men slip their empty bottles into the opened cases for recycling. Demo picks up the loose game pieces, tossing them back into the box. He doesn’t bother counting them and assumes that everything is in place. If not, oh well.

“Does Sniper call you sexy names in another language?” Scout can’t describe the shiver that runs through his body when Medic growls German pet names. He could walk past the man, and those sweet words would he uttered in a heartbeat. Of course, he would never know if Medic called him a bitch or darling.

“That’s my job, lad. Does Medic take you cryptid hunting?” An eye roll from the younger man. If Medic ever did that, it would include dissecting them in the same night. Scout tries not to think about the time he caught Medic coming back late at night after harvesting organs.

Before either of them can speak, Engineer enters the room. He looks between the pair while grabbing a beer for himself. The southerner takes note of yet another abandoned game. Do those two ever finish one?

“What are you fellas talking about?” Engineer takes a healthy gulp of his drink. His overalls are sticky with sweat after working in his shop all morning. Oil stains and small holes in his pant legs show the hard work he does everyday.

“Who’s got the best lass on his arm.” Scout laughs, nudging Demo with his foot under the table. Engineer joins in on the chuckling before he shakes his head at their antics. So typical of them.

“Well, for the record, Spy’s the best girlfriend out of all of y’all’s ladies.” While Scout gags, Demo laughs. He puts a hand on Engineer’s shoulder as the men chortle together. The Scotsman wipes away the tear in his eye and shakes his head.

“Be serious, lad. Does Spy bring you shark teeth?” He has several necklaces, one of which Demo is wearing under his vest. Sniper handmade each of them, careful to wrap the teeth in wire to keep them in place. He also made sure to give Demo every bit of information on the shark it came from until his mouth goes dry.

“Or carry you to bed?” Scout grins, chin in his palm as he thinks about his Medic. The younger likes to sit with him while he sterilizes his equipment. More often than not, Scout falls asleep somewhere in the examination room. Each time, Medic tenderly brings him to one of their bedrooms and tucks him in.

“No to both of y’all, but do your boys make you dinner? And I mean a real dinners with garnish and all them fancy bits.” There’s no doubt in Engineer’s mind that he gained a pound or two from Spy’s cooking. Those who can cook take turns doing so, but Spy makes a personal dish for Engineer. Plump ducks, roasted garlic spreads, and vegetables cooked in ways Engineer has never seen before.

“Fried gator isn’t fancy, but it’s sure as hell filling. Tastes like that chicken you love, laddie.” Demo says the second half to Scout. The batter now pauses, questioning if his beloved chicken hut serves actual chicken or gator substitute. It would make sense seeing how weirdly shaped some of the flats tend to be.

“Yeah, well, Medic lets me borrow his clothes. Sucks to be you guys.” Both men grumble at the fact. Of course they had to pick partners smaller than them. Engineer still hasn’t gotten back the flannel Spy borrowed during one of their dates. He’s starting to suspect he wasn’t actually cold that night.

“Now, listen—“

Onto part two! -H

[pink-strawberry-kissess]

thinking about ada only being her true self around leon just makes me so 😭

like no one sees her the way he does and no one understands them but he doesn’t care like chris has 100% been like “why do you like her so much” and he just can’t explain it because he understands her on such a deep level

the same goes for ada

MY BABIES 😭😭😭

SHE LETS HER GUARD DOWN AROUND HIM

THIS IS SHOWN TIME AND TIME AGAIN THAT SHE ONLY EVER REALLY LETS HIM IN

she also sees him for who he is also. he sees himself as the boy scout, the ever present desire to save people is always there. but he sees failure after failure. she just sees his never ending desire to do the right thing. even if it's not what's best for him.

they understand each other on such a personal level, which is more interesting when you realize how different they stand morally. sure towards the end of the series, ada ends up being more morally good while leon leans towards more neutral. but they just against all odds, understand each other

MAKES ME NUTS

[earthtooz]

can you pls elaborate on streamer! rin? what games does he play, if at all? what’s his main content? tell us all abt it 🎤

okay ngl i was going to save this ask for the actual release of streamer!rin … but that’s going to take a while. sorry. thank you for being curious though! i’m glad someone is enjoying streamer!RIN as much as i am <3

so instead, i’m gonna provide some headcanons now! that said DO NOT STEAL THESE IDEAS OR YOU WILL FIND ME ON YOUR CEILING WHILST YOU ARE SLEEPING SOUNDLY.

streamer!rin who only players horror games and is one of the most-watched streamers. no he doesn’t react. he actually rage quits at fnaf because of how often he’s failing but not once will he scream or break at the jumpscare.

closest to a reaction his viewers have ever gotten was mapbot from fnaf security breach.

streamer!rin who is actually also a model. he used to just model his own merch and with the exposure he gets, he eventually got scouted by agencies who wanted to represent him. now he appears where u least expect him. calvins ad? he’s there flashing his dick bro. don’t miss it. fans go wild.

streamer!rin has a really wild fan base tbh. you have girls and boys simping left and right and sweaty gamers who just look up to him. it’s like a burning building in there don’t look.

streamer!rin who you can never tell if he’s enjoying a game or not. only time you can tell is when he is just so into it that he neglects the chat for a few minutes and goes into gamer focus 💯 mode. horror games don’t rly need a lot of focus. rin could do chase scenes with his eyes closed. bet.

streamer!rin who is also rly good at shooter games but plays them on the low. which is where streamer!reader comes in who is primarily focused on shooter games.

streamer!reader who is like ‘I’M GONNA FUCK YOU UP’ and streamer!rin merely says ‘you can’t even land a shot on me in valo’

streamer!rin who hardly has anyone on his streams, so imagine the speculations when you start appearing more and more often.

streamer!rin who for some reason, really enjoys playing ‘hello neighbour’.

streamer!rin who also, secretly, likes those cutesy games too like stardew valley, tomodachi life, animal crossing, etc. you catch him playing it and it’s just so pure and cute and wholesome :(

[yes-dillman-yes]

ahh!! awesome! could you write a miniseries stozier x FTM reader smut that takes place post them defeating pennywise the first time? (obvi a good while after so they’re an appropriate age) like the reader notices that stan is pulling away from the group and that richie is being avoidant about it/deflecting a lot and decides to talk to the two of them and things escalate from there

or if you’re not comfortable with ship x reader: a miniseries richie x FTM reader where the reader saves richie from a beating by henry bowers and comes out to richie (bonus points if you can work in a reference to the teenage werewolf in the basement incident into the fic <3)

1960s!RICHIE T. X 1960s!STAN U. X FTM!READER

Warnings: mature language, penetration, blowjobs, cunnilingus, unprotected smut, threesome

Summary: They had defeated Pennywise for years at this point, but the haunting presents of the clown had yet to leave them. They are now exiting their finale year of high school, when at Billy’s graduation party, Stan and Richie enter a private argument. Or what they thought was private - until y/n stumbles into the room to declare peace.

Notes: Never in my life would I think I would be writing a Stozier fic, but I found it as a challenge to overcome. All characters are 18/19, so no underage private time. I haven’t written is so long so please excuse typos or just shit writing. Long intro, and I kind of altered the story from the request slightly. Enjoy my readers!

There was never the intention for y/n to become an ease dropper, but he had somehow ended up as one. Eddie was freaking out over spilled punch and Billy had used all the downstairs towels for cleaning up a mess earlier that night that y/n took on the responsibility to hunt for some replacements. Which lead him to finding Richie and Stan in Billy’s room - whisper shouting at each other.

“I told you, Richard, everything is fine with me,” there is a pause in Stanley’s speech, “I’m just…I don’t know what to say anymore. I don’t know how else to move on - except to just leave.”

Richie grabs Stan’s shoulders, forcing him to look each other in the eyes.

“You don’t think I feel the same? But that’s not what this is about. You know that. The other’s keep asking me about you, and I’m always left with no response-”

“I’m sure that’s new for you.”

“IT IS! I tell them you’re at Boy Scouts, or bird watching! Because I can’t just tell them that you can’t even stand to look at any of them anymore since all you can see is that stupid clown’s face!” Richie’s face starts to turn red.

A beat of silence until another word is spoken.

“I apologize that my absents causes so many issues for you.”

“Don’t, Stan. Don’t turn this into something it’s not. I’m asking you to stop running. You have no idea the affect you have on me. You ignore us- me, and I feel like I’m loosing a part of myself.”

“Maybe it’s for the best-” Stan is about to finish his sentence when all of a sudden the door swings open. Y/n stumbles into the room awkwardly catching their balance.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” y/n tries to say casually. He doesn’t want them to know he was listening for so long. But they both look at y/n with a suspicious stare.

“You’re not,” they say in unison and then smirk at their actions.

Stanley pulls away from Richie’s grip, and heads for the door. But right before he brushes past, he is grabbed by y/n’s firm hands. A shiver runs down his spine excitedly. Y/n leans into their shared space and whispers, “Don’t go, Stan. Let me talk first”. Y/n leads Stan to sit on the bed, and shoots Richie a look that says ‘you too’.

Y/n stands before the two boys and begins his speech, “Ok, so I was definitely listening before I fell in. Which I am sorry for doing, but I know - we all know that something is wrong with you two. Stan, you’ve been MIA for weeks. Even when you’re in the same room as us, you’re mentally a million miles away. You saw shit that some of us didn’t but you’re letting it drift you away. We miss you. I miss you.”

Y/n sees tears start to build in the dark haired boy’s eyes and something in him shifts. Y/n can’t help himself as he bends down to wipe the boy’s tears away. He shares a smile as he does so. Their hands intertwine as y/n shifts towards Richie’s direction.

“As for you carrot top,” a giggle leaves Richie’s mouth at the name, “you’re always a loud mouth but recently- everything is a fucking joke to you. This is the first time in a while that I’ve heard you have a serious conversation. You criticize Stan for running away but don’t pretend that you’re not avoiding the pain too”. Y/n takes his free hand to run his palm softly across the other boy’s freckled face, “Now, please, tell me what I can do to help relieve you both of these feelings?”

Stanley hums to grab y/n’s attention, and leans forward to connect their foreheads. Before any more questions can be asked, both of their lips are touching. Stan moans into the kiss while he slides his left hand on to Richie’s thigh. His thigh shakes at the touch like a jolt of electricity runs through him. Richie moves into action, running his own hands over y/n’s hair and shoulders. He begins to leave kisses on each piece of skin he touches.

Y/n pulls apart from the kiss to catch his breath, and bends his neck to open more room for Richie’s mouth to suck. Stan rubs his hardening cock through his jeans while watching the show before him. The sucking comes to a pause so a whisper could be shared, “I think this is us showing you our gratitude”. The sucking instantly continuing. Y/n smiles at Stanley and can feel himself start to get wet.

“Don’t just sit there, baby. Show me what you want,” y/n request.

Both of the other men guide y/n onto the bed, with his face towards the ceiling, they begin to undress him until only his underwear remains. Richie begins to undress himself while Stan kisses the happy trail leading to y/n’s wet entrance. Stan shoots a look up, asking for permission, which is granted with a moan and a nod of the head.

“Your body is beautiful, y/n. I can’t wait to feel how good it is to be inside of you,” Richie is rubbing his cock right in front of y/n’s face while speaking pure filth, “But first, Stan the Man here is going to get you nice and loose. I bet you like his tongue.”

The only sound Stan makes in response, is his tongue sliding into y/n’s pussy to then slide out so he can suck on the clit. The minute he begins to focus on that area, a deep groan leaves y/n throat. But before he could make any more sound, Richie grabs his jaw and slides his long cock into y/n’s mouth. A sweet bliss washes over all of the men.

For a few beats, the only sounds that could be heard are the sucking sounds of skin and moans that sound like a choir. Y/n’s legs are shaking around his lover’s head while Richie gasps with pleasure from the friction of the tongue against his dick. The edge of his climax creeping upon him.

“I’m going to fucking cum all over your face, baby” Richie purrs.

All of a sudden, Stanley pulls his head up and lays a hand on Richie’s shoulder to pause the action. Stanley demands, without saying a word, for Richie to lay on his back while positioning y/n on top of the laying boy’s stomach. Stanley once again shoots a questioning look towards y/n - asking for consent. The request is eagerly accepted.

Richie is heard whinnying as Stanley leads the boy’s slim cock into the soaking entrance of their shared lover. A sigh of relief leaves y/n’s mouth as they finally become full. A sudden new sigh escapes him when he feels his cunt stretch perfectly to fit another cock inside. Both of the other men are gripping and kissing any flesh available to them.

Finally, Stanley utters his first words, “We’re going to cum inside of you. You’re our angel.”

Richie is sucking their lover’s nipples while reaching around to grip Stanley’s ass, helping the man to thrust deeper inside. Y/n is moving his hips in the best direction to feel his g-spot getting hit repeatedly. His nails scratching the surface of Richie’s scalp - Richie groaning and thrusting like an animal in response. Stanley, on the hand, is fucking like he has it all mapped out. Every move has a purpose and direction: making everyone cum.

“Fuck me harder! I’m close…so, so fucking close,” y/n demands.

Richie is there too, leaking inside the other’s hole.

Stanley slams his thick cock in the perfect spot that y/n jolts forward, climaxing as Richie’s cock slips out. His cum covering Stan’s stomach and y/n’s ass. Richie quickly moving his hands to stimulate Stan’s nipples - just enough touch to get the dark haired boy to groan out his sign of climax.

Y/n didn’t need to hear the groan though. He felt the warm fluid coat his raw insides. Finally feeling complete and fulfilled.

“Goddamn that’s Stan the fucking man!”

“Shut up, Richie.”

[peace-for-levi]

Happy 600!!! SO proud of you! 🖤

For your event, I’d love to have my boy Levi & the prompt: “Don't look at them, look at me."

I’d love for this to be canon.

Levi gets a serious injury in the field for the first time and You can’t keep your relationship a secret anymore from the Scouts while Levi fights oncoming unconsciousness.

You just want to comfort Levi and be there for your baby before he gets the medic, talkng him through it and keeping him with you. If he mentioned “it hurts,” I will cry. Bonus points.🥲

Levi has fear in his eyes for the first time in his life and he just needs You to save him.🥹

so you and i sorta talked and to those of you apart from alla reading, we settled on recreating the after-effects of the thunderspear incident! this isn't my best but i do hope you sorta like it? focused more on the feelings rather than dialogue.

w/c: 3,842

content and warnings: descriptions of drowning, self-hatred and shame, and canon-typical gore/injuries. Slight canon-divergence in the sense that I wrote Levi with a stomach injury on top of his face being slashed open. Implied secret relationship. Reader goes berserk at Floch momentarily but i don't blame them tbh.

The soul of the heavens arrives in generous pellets of water. In downpours this heavy, one might feel cleansed and humbled. The mud on the ground is putted, washed clean of any footprints.

The crashing and roaring waves of the river – with no thanks to the rain making and pushing and pulling so merciless – are no less inviting than the pure Titan transformation he spots for a split second before his brain slows to a sudden halt. His eyes are shut as he's airborne, unable to brace himself.

There is a crash upon the impact: the impact of Levi being catapulted into the river. It's a heavy blow, he feels, and suddenly he's still; in limbo.

The water is murkier underneath than the surface. He feels it seeping in, keeping him snug as he plummets further. The dull ache in his right hand is gone.

He sinks further. It's slow, stagnant.

He feels like he's rotting now. The comforting lull, the darkness all around… It was eerily hypnotic and he feels his heart slow.

Death, right now, seemed so inviting.

I failed you Erwin and Hange, he says as he falls.

There's a feeling of decay building within him. His limbs feel heavier than a few moments ago.

[F/n], I… I failed you, too, he admits. He opens his eyes a bit at this realization.

Drowning was such a bitch of a way to go. Panic, fear, and then nothing. The stray hairs of his undercoat float up. Absent-mindedly, he reaches for something. He thinks he sees a hand – your hand – reaching for him; he wants to see your hand reaching for him.

[F/n], please…

Who's he begging to? More specifically, why was he begging to you? He's so far down below, he's a deadman.

He reaches forward some more. Is that the light of the sun he sees, or is this the light people talk about as you're about to cross over?

Death, right now, seemed so inviting… but not today. Not for him.

Not yet!

Levi does not get to rest easy.

He feels his lungs seize and he gasps. His throat burns and eyes snaps open, blearily blinking through grime and dirt. With whatever he could muster and before his lungs give out, he starts to swim upwards. It’s a struggle, even for someone like him, to try to swim in these conditions.

He heaves in massive strokes once he breaks the surface and thankfully, he’s not too far from the banks of the river. He fists onto one of the reeds sprouted by the river’s edge and pulls himself ashore. He braces his weight to the heels of his palms, but he buckles. He catches himself in time and lands on his back.

Everything feels heavy and dirty and wrong. He raises his right hand to dab at his face, and– oh.

His lips part. His index and middle finger– where did they–?

Before he can even contemplate where the fingers may have fallen to, he’s clutching his stomach in pain. Bile is building up in the back of his throat. Even as he lies dead still, blood is gushing out of whatever arteries were severed in great surges. Every time he blinks to try to clear his vision, his right eye will not adjust.

He tries again, and again, and again.

Eventually, it all clicks to him.

Defeated – he truly feels defeated. Zeke was probably long gone. Even if he was nearby, it'd make no difference; Levi's in bits, his ears are ringing and drowning out everything and he is in no position to fight.

Still, he relents and tries again to prop himself up again for he can't let Erwin down like this. It has been four painstakingly slow years and he was so fucking close, and it blew right up in his face. Literally.

He failed Erwin, again; he let the Beast Titan slip away, again.

I failed, I failed, I failed…

With shaking hands and shuddering breaths, he is left to lie there in his misery.

I'm sorry…

His eyes snap shut and he gasps in deep strokes. This is the closest he has ever been to Death's doors since he was a kid. Is this what it feels like to be left behind while you are too weak to go on?

I'm… terrified, he admits. Letting out another choked sob as he succumbs to his fragile emotional state, Terrified of dying and of dying so slowly, terrified of letting people down again. Terrified of leaving you behind in this crazy, unsafe and new world, and that you may have to navigate it without him.

But he can't just leave you behind… not when there's still a slim chance he can still push through this. He can't just toss in the towel now – he still has to fulfil Erwin's final order.

He just can't help it that he's tired.

Even so, he refuses to close his eyes.

He will get through this.

For you. For Erwin. For Hange. For the kids. People are counting on him; depending on him.

For a while the world stills and slows, though, and as a harsh gust blows through the coniferous trees, he swears he can hear your agonized screams.

.

.

[F/n]...

.

.

[F/n], please…

.

.

I'm so terrified…

.

.

It all hurts…

.

.

He briefly comes to his senses when he feels warm hands cup his bloody cheeks. At this point, he's running out of energy to keep himself conscious. He can just breathe and stay calm. But when the fingers gently shake and rub away some of the grime from his face, he focuses his gaze a bit. He hears agonized sobs piercing the air.

A gasp. "...[F/n]?" He blinks more, surely he's dreaming.

He snapped his gaze over to the footsteps he hears.

Jaegerists.

"Don't look at them. Look at me." You whispered hastily, tapping at his cheek as if to keep him awake. "Levi… Oh, Levi…"

It was such a sobering sight to see Levi Ackerman like this. What could have happened… He looked like death. You hurriedly pressed two fingers to the pulse point on his neck.

Slow and shallow.

You continued to whimper, silently begging to the goddesses above – would they help you now?

Hange rushes up beside you, a hand on your back as they move to assess him. You bury your eyes in your hands, unable to stay remotely professional.

Any more theatrics and Hange might find out about you two, after all. And what would that mean for the Jaegerists? A close association to Humanity's Strongest? That didn't spell good news.

You hear footsteps behind you.

"Is that Captain Levi?"

Fucking Floch, traitorous bastard. What could he possibly want? You peer up behind you and your eyes zero in on the shotgun in his hand.

No way, he wouldn't–

"Heh, I don't know what happened but we're lucky it did. The biggest threat we faced is lying in a bloody heap," he said.

A soldier beside Floch stepped forward, clearly very eager to use his shotgun. "We should put one in his head just in case."

You gasped and immediately rose to your feet. Adrenaline surged followed by a swift kick and the man was disarmed, shotgun kicked far out of reach. You reach for his arm and twist it behind his back and just as you go to bend it:

"There's no need, he was caught in a thunderspear explosion at point blank range. It shredded his guts… killed him instantly…"

The soldier who was once at your mercy is dropped and you fall to your knees opposite Hange. You rest your hand an inch above his mouth. Strange; for a dead man, he was breathing semi-regularly. That's when Hange gave you the quickest look; had you blinked, you would have missed it.

Stay quiet, their eyes seemed to say.

"Floch!" a Jaegerist cries out.

You and Hange snap your heads to the commotion, the strange sight unfolding has you both stunned silent. There was a small class Titan probably no more than thirty yards away, hunched over as if in pain and steam that is normally excreted from a dead titan is being sucked back in.

This had to be an abnormal.

"Is it disappearing? Did it die?" Floch cried out, still holding his weapon from before. Though it was not like bullets would do much against a Titan anyway.

"No. Titans don't normally suck in steam like that when they disappear." Hange replied.

Eventually, the Titan's carcass did break down and evaporate. Rays of light shone through the clouds, like spotlights shining down on what was to be unveiled. You heard a rattled breath pass through Levi's lips as a figure fell unceremoniously to the ground.

Your teeth gnashed together at the sight of Zeke standing before you. You don't know how, but Zeke was responsible for Levi's grave injuries; Levi wouldn't get this injured by mishandling a Thunderspear by himself.

The Jaegerists stare in shock while Hange turns to face you. You see them stare past you and towards the river. You quickly get the message.

While Levi is physically unable to protest as he is plunged into the icy cold river, his body screams out in pain. The murky water seeping into his injuries did him no favours.

The swift current takes Hange and him along; they expertly swim with the swift pull of the river.

Amidst the crashing waves, Levi cocks his head to the side trying to see what you'd do.

Waiting for you.

*****

It's in the evening by the time you find Hange again. They had mouthed a few numbers to you before they dove into the river with Levi. You made a mental note at the time to remember, but you initially didn't understand. Once they were far out of sight, it clicked: Hange was telling you coordinates of the map you two had followed to get here. Coordinates of where they'd take him.

Cryptic, but clever; that was Hange in two words.

There was a clearing in the forest where they laid Levi down. By the time you had arrived, they unfolded a spare blanket on the ground for him to lie on, and another laid over him to keep him warm.

Hange worked in silence to get the bleeding on his face under control. It was obvious his right eye would never work again, which was a shame. His right eye once the colour of liquid mercury now was bloodied and had a milky hue to it.

Hange had asked for mostly silence but as the situation settled, you two began to talk a bit more. Good thing for you, you could hardly stop rocking back and forth as your mind raced.

"Is he going to be okay?" you blurted out.

Hange looked at you anf back down to him. "Nobody would have survived something like that, normally. But that is it to say the Ackermans aren't built like the rest of us. He'll be fine, but... He won't be doing any fighting anytime soon."

You can only nod as you watch Hange expertly stitch up. Your eyes continued to well with unshed tears every time you looked over at him.

If only you had rode a little faster.

If only you had convinced him harder in trying to stay with him the past month.

If only you had searched the Jaegerists harder and inspected the wine...

It's not like you'd have known.

Admist your introspection, Hange spoke. "So... how long?"

"How long what?"

"How long have you two been seeing each other. Romantically, I mean."

Shit. Were you two going to be in trouble? No, hopefully not. Hange was one of you guys' closest friends. You had done your best to keep it under wraps, but as the war drew closer and closer, perhaps you two let some thing slip due to the sheer exhaustion of everything going on in the background.

"How did you know?"

"I'm not that stupid. But, if you must know... I always suspected something."

You gulp, but don't say anything.

Hange further clarifies: "It was your reaction to his injuries; you're a person who can normally stay reasonably composed. It was also the way Levi shifted beneath me when he heard you. And while his face was all bloody and battered, he... looked at you in a way I have never seen him look at someone before."

You nod. You figure it might be alright to tell them now. It wasn't as if you couldn't trust Hange – there was no one you trusted more after Levi – but it was purely so that there would be no outward bias and favouritism from Levi or you.

But also, because Levi was so vital to humanity's survival and victory – he couldn't afford to be chained down. As Humanity's Strongest, his duty was to humanity before it would ever be to you. But when he was just Levi? Was Levi allowed to be selfish, especially when the war was nearly over?

"A few years, around the start of 850 or so. Look, Hange–"

"--For what it's worth, I don't object," Hange interrupted. They continued to work on Levi's stitches. "I know people aren't meant to date superiors, but there is no one better suited for him than you. Look after him, okay?"

You blinked and sat back on your haunches. It was the first time that day you weren't craning your neck over to look him. Instead, you fixated on the bespectacled brunette.

"'Look after him, okay?' Hange, what do you–"

"...I just feel like this is it for me."

That was uttered so quietly, it was as if they were confessing a sin.

You're not sure if that was something you were meant to hear or not. Your lips parted and you blinked, owlishy. "Hange, no... What are you–?"

They are very quick to shut down whatever questions you had about their uncharacteristically morbid disposition. "Can you go check that we aren't being pursued? I had that we're just squatting here and there could be more Jaegerists looking for us."

Oh, you want to press further. But Hange was stubborn in every sense of the word; their stubbornness is what helped Humanity because they had to push Erwin to capture Titans and to study them more.

It's a later conversation, fine. You make your way to the entrance of the forest.

You feel a slight pressure in your head as you run. It builds and builds, and it's not long before your surroundings change. You were no longer in the forest but in a desert-like landscape. Your eyes widened at the sight of an aurora in the sky, myriads of root-like paths of iridescent light shooting out in all directions.

"To all Subjects of Ymir. My name... is Eren Jaeger..."

As Eren delivers his message, you sink to your knees and bring a hand to your forehead. Eren was actually going to ahead with this. What did this mean about Zeke? Was he still involved with this?

You scrambled to your feet and sprinted back as if you being chased by the marching Wall Titans themselves. That message was delivered to every Eldian and stunned them all silent.

"Hange!" you yell out. You hop over a few bushes and logs and push some brambles out of the way. "Did you see–?"

Levi was being pushed down by Hange as they spoke. That means he was awake, right? He was going to be okay, no? You ambled forward and plopped before him, sitting on your haunches. Levi reached a hand to you, wanting you near.

Hange smiled softly and stood up. "I'll give you two some space."

You smile at Hange as they walked away before you turned your attetion back to Levi. You gingerly cradled his bandaged face, thumbs smoothing under his cheekbones. His brows were knitted together; you initially assumed it was out of pain but he would have spoken up if that was the case.

He was devastated.

He was ashamed of himself.

Zeke was long gone now, but that didn't matter. He'd chase after him to the ends of the Earth in the name of fulfulling Erwin's final order. He'd fight to the bitter end if it meant making the world a safer place for you both.

"I failed." He finally admits.

How could he think that? He was a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. It was the only time he had underestimated the enemy. And Zeke was no ordinary enemy.

He was your safe haven; your release. It hurt you just as much to see him this way.

"I should..." he pauses to cough. You rest a hand on his tummy; his breaths are laboured. He has to catch his breath in between speaking. "I should have predicted the explosion."

"Levi, stop, you couldn't have–"

"It's been four years, [F/n]. Four shitting years. And I am no clo... closer than I was in Shiganshina." He said this through gnashed teeth.

You lean back and sigh. Even when he was gravely injured, he was still thinking about this damn promise. It's not that it wasn't worthy of being a promise, but it kept Levi awake at night (more than usual.) It was how Levi planned out every movement of every day.

"Erwin wouldn't want to see you struggling like this," you settled. Levi swallowed thickly. He looks towards the fire and tries to distract himself with the sparking embers. He begins to shiver a bit. With all the care in the world, you move him a little closer. "And neither would I."

He turns his head away. He has a bitter look on his face. He was probably pouting – as best as he could – beneath the bandages. "You heard 'em, [F/n.] They think I'm dead. I should be out there, fighting alongside you all. And I fucked up and now you and Hange and everyone in Shiganshina is paying the price."

He pauses, his eyes shutting.

"People's lives are on the line, and I could have been there."

It's a grumble. He's not looking at you, probably out of shame.

"Who says it has to be just you to take down Zeke, huh? Because Erwin said so?" You challenge. You are aware you're overdoing it and that you're cutting deep, but he is too stubborn and too familiar with shouldering everything that he has forgotten that sometimes even the strongest need a rest when they have been taken down. "You are not going after Zeke in this condition. Not until Hange gives you the all clear. Let us help you!"

"Tch, you don't–"

"–I don't understand?! Levi, I almost lost you today!" you choked. By now you have allowed yourself to – gently – slump over his body, trying to find some solace in his arms. You sit up again quickly, looking into his good eye. "I know killing Zeke is important, but you need to rest first, please! If I saw… If I had to see you that bloody and battered again…" you stop yourself from saying anything else.

It's not that you were arguing out of jealousy or anger. But it was likely Levi's first thought upon waking up was just Zeke. He was wholly consumed by this lofty goal. He wouldn't see himself as worthy unless Zeke was dead.

Levi Ackerman cannot afford to fail. Not now, not ever. At least that was how he disciplined himself.

You couldn't find it within yourself to continue the conversation. It just hurt. You were still reeling from seeing Levi so beaten up. Still reeling from the fact that if he wasn't an Ackerman, he would have died.

"I'm sorry, Levi. Sorry for… yelling. I just…"

He only nods, teeth chattering. "I know… It's okay. I know this must be a shock…" he says as he lifts up his right hand, looking at the missing fingers. "It is for me, too."

The silence that permeates between you two was initially palpable, but it becomes comforting the more you listen to his steady breathing.

Here's here now.

He's alive now.

And you would do anything to protect him.

"How are you now? Still cold?"

You hear him sigh through the bandages. He coughs before answering. "Sore."

"Where?" you ask, but that's a stupid question. Everything hurts from his head to his heart. You lean down and kiss his forehead, and trail a few kisses down his temples and uninjured cheek. "I love you so. You are no failure, Levi."

You swore you heard him inhale shakily, and that you saw his lips wobble.

"What about you?" he asked. How am I supposed to protect you in this state?

All you do is shake your head. No, stop it. Don't beat yourself up.

He relents. You weren't about to let yourself feel victimised. But also, you had to ease him of his doubts. If that was at all possible.

"You need not worry about me. Hange and I will come up with something, you just need to rest and heal."

He exhales, shakily. "Tch," he grunts in pain. "It all... hurts." You nod, smiling sadly. It was a smile that didn't - couldn't - make it up to your eyes. You smooth a thumb under his eyes, catching the stray tears that trickled down.

"Cry if you need to, I'll always listen."

You thumbed away every stray tear and listened to every worry the man had.

"Is there anything else I can do?" You ask him.

A shaky hand reaches out for you. He wants you closer. "...here. Stay. Stay with me."

Of course you would.

You'd follow Levi forever; loving him, listening and caring for him.

Hange, themself, had asked you to as well, and you were not about to let them down.

[teecupangel]

Submitted by @saberamane

I’m finally back with the Ark/AC Fusion!!

 They reach the deepest depths of the subterranean cave they’ve called home for the past while, and find the platform for the final ‘boss’ of the area. Entering, they encounter the deformed, tentacled monster that was once ‘Rockwell’ (which Ezio says, firmly, that that was on the list of things he definitely wouldn’t consider having sex with), and in time, put him out of his misery.

As the portal readies to ‘ascend’ them, Desmond says a last, tearful farewell to his Reaper, placing it in a cryo pod and leaving it in the saddle of his rock drake.

As they are lifted up, following the spinal like machinery back up towards they came down, all the broken down machines begin to light up until they reach the very beginning of where they started. A bright flash of light and the portal whisks them away.

Only this time, they are not transported through space to a new ‘ark’, they are sent to earth. And earth does not look good. There are spires of crystallized element erupting from the ground, and the dirt is dry as dust and lifeless, not a single spec of green anywhere to be seen. And the creatures are ‘infected’ with the element as well, large parts of them replaced with black and purple, looking like decayed flesh.

They’ve barely taken in their surroundings when these infected creatures begin to take notice, and run towards them.

Surprisingly they’re saved, by a white and red tek Giga of all things. And who does Desmond see on it’s back?

Clay.

Desmond:

Velonasaur

Gasbag

Defense Unit

Mega Mek

Forest Wyvern

Ice Titan

Altair:

Enforcer

Scout

Gacha

Rubble Golem

Thylacoleo

Yeti

Ezio:

Managarmr (Because they’re flashy as fuck, and Ezio is all about the ‘bling’, lol)

Dire Bear

Tapejara

Rex (Ol’ reliable lol)

Daeodon

Desert Titan

Ratonhnhaké:ton:

Snow Owl (I just feel he’d really like their heat vision, and they can heal which would help him when exploring.)

Rock Elemental (Because sometimes you just need a tanky boy.)

Yutyranus

Megalosaurus (Cave runs!)

Iguanodon

Forest Titan

Clay!!: He Lives!! And only has tek Creatures

Tek Giga (totally hacked, not legit tame AT ALL, because you can’t legit get them.)

Tek Rex

Tek Raptor Pack

Tek Quetzal

Tek Parasaur

Enforcer

And as a surprise, Clay, the best man to ever live, hacks an orbital drop to get Desmond’s Reaper for him. And he is definitely judging Desmond about this, even though he knows how this happens. I mean, Desmond could have just left the thing out in the wild to fend for itself…

Now then, how is Clay here? He doesn’t know exactly. He woke up on ‘Extinction’ with that weird gem thing in his wrist, and all engrams/dossier’s unlocked. For a long while he thought he was still in an animus or something…

Also, he is linked to Ezio, and Ezio only, so when Ezio dies… Clay does too. And the first time it happens is a surprise to everyone BUT Desmond. Clay is not please with being linked to someone else, especially when they die often…

=============

Additions from teecup:

The Ark Survival Evolved AU idea (this one and this one too)

Tames for The Island Ark

Tames for the Scorched Earth Ark

Tames for the Aberration Ark

Clay would add an interesting dynamic to the mix too, especially if he’s being a chaotic gremlin.

Also, the fact that Clay can hack the system is such an OP move at this point that I think we need to give Clay a disadvantage of some kind to level the playing field (because the other OP character we have is Desmond and his OP-ness is ‘random’ as far as everyone knows although it seemed to have a higher chance of working on bosses which is more of a rule of funny than anything else).

May I suggest, Clay actually has the lowest ‘stats’ of the four? Like, yeah, he has all engrams/dossiers unlocked BUT he gets tired and hungry quicker than anybody else and his inventory is lower than the others (even if he ups his inventory using other means like a mount, it is still lower than it should be).

Clay thinks someone is out to get him because he’s cheating the system or because he’s not meant to be there in the first place and his entire existence was some sort of accident. Maybe even both!

So, because of Clay’s ‘limitation’, he tends to stay near the base because (1) he’s squishy so he could easily die and (2) if Ezio dies, he dies anyway. Staying near the base means that anything that stayed on his ‘corpse’ could be retrieved if necessary.

Desmond

Reaper does not count as a tame in this ark because Reaper is technically a ‘mod’ at this point and it seems to aggro everything that sees it so, yeah, his Reaper is safer in the base as a lookout/patrol. Full on bored kid always happy to see their working parent come home and play with them vibes.

His Velonasaur usually joins him when he’s out in the ‘wilds’, acting as both a decoy and a DPS attacker with his thorn and spine attacks to keep the enemy (especially flying ones) switching between two or more targets. He also sometimes acts as a scout but Desmond prefers him to stay close by as more of an early radar if Desmond is too focused on one direction.

Gasbag was tamed sorta unintentionally? Desmond found a Gasbag wounded and he felt bad for the poor fella so he gave him food to try and heal him. That amount of food was enough to tame him (and maybe Desmond’s random glitchy taming ability might also be in play) and he followed Desmond back to the base. He works more as both pack mule and also a source for more oxygen. Desmond definitely does not like him to be part of any fighting because he just sees him as a sweet mild-mannered tame, even going as far as feeling scandalous when Altaïr suggested that he could be a good decoy.

Everyone calls bullshit on Desmond taming a Defense Unit. Like, everyone knows by now that if there is any monster/creature/whatever that could not be tamed in this Ark, it would be the sci-fi looking crab robot thingie. Desmond swears he tamed him the ‘natural way’. They all think it’s bullshit but, at this point, they just accepted that Desmond was bound to freaking tame one or two untameables this time anyway. The Defense Unit itself is kept near the base as more of patrol and it likes to attack anything near the base that doesn’t register as an ally to Desmond. This does mean that any other patrolling tames usually grabs the carcass of anything the Defense Unit has killed back to the base for easy ‘good boy’ praises (even though everyone knows it was probably killed by the Defense Unit). 

Altaïr built the Mega Mek after a few Meks have been built that have a prototype hidden blades. Desmond gave him the big puppy dog “I want one pleeeasse?” eyes after seeing Altaïr’s own Enforcer and hearing how he liked watching shows of robots fighting back in New York. Everyone gives Altaïr the knowing ‘you’re so totally whipped’ look when he presented the Mega Mek (which was created using the previous experimental Meks) to Desmond. This is Desmond’s preferred vehicle of choice and as a Vorpal TEK Cleaver as its main right hand weapon and Altaïr’s latest hidden blade attachment as its left hand weapon (the next version will have a hook blade attachment because Ezio insists)

Because of Mega Mek, the Forest Wyvern is usually used for aerial attacks or if Desmond needs to scout some place from high up. Forest Wyvern is also his usual go to AOE attacker and Gasbag is afraid of the fire. 

Unsurprisingly, the Ice Titan serves as the main attacker in Desmond’s ‘pack’. Desmond and the Ice Titan usually tag team every enemy into oblivion while it’s distracted by the Forest Wyvern or the Velonasaur. Desmond never leaves the base without his buddy Ice Titan (which he may or may not be calling Vanilla Ice, Clay stresses he should not be allowed to call him Vanilla Ice).

Altaïr

The Enforcer is his main mount mostly because of how adaptable to the environment it is. His Enforcer is usually called Altaïr’s Monster by Clay because it’s not just one ‘tamed’ Enforcer. It’s multiple Enforcers all ‘stitched up’ by Altaïr’s audacity after he learned that fully crafted Enforcers can only be level 1 and he hates the game of chance of having enemy Enforcers leave blueprints of random quality so he just went “I’ll take my base Enforcer and just keep upgrading him with other Enforcers parts”. Clay is sure cannibalizing parts from other Enforcers is also against the rule but everyone just accepts it because Altaïr is already in his mad scientist phase and every mad scientist needs to create a monster that may become their undoing as a treat. Why is the Enforcer most probably going to be his undoing? Well, it’s a modded Enforcer for all intents and purposes so it is one of their highest damage dealing ‘tames’ at the moment (maybe only rivaled by the Mega Mek)

As the name says, Scout is usually used by Altaïr to scout around so Altaïr could plan his route better. Unlike the Enforcer, Altaïr didn’t bother to mod his Scout BUT he does have a lot lying around the base because of their varying qualities so everyone believes he plans to mod his current Scout at one point or another. It is also sometimes used to lure targets into traps or, if Altaïr believes that Desmond plans to go to a dangerous area OR thinks Desmond might be planning something stupid, he would let Desmond ‘borrow’ his Scout and the Scout’s only instruction is to keep healing Desmond’s Mega Mek. Desmond can’t even use it to scout around because the Scout’s main and only order as far as its concern is to keep healing the Mega Mek. 

The Gacha stays in the base to keep producing resources, especially crystals. Altaïr tried to make a farm but noticed that the Gachas tend to become sad if Gachas of the same gender are near each other and then Altaïr had to get a female Gacha for both of them to stop being sad then they had children. At some point, Altaïr had unintentionally built a large enclosure to ensure the current Gachas are not sad OR trying to overwhelm the base’s population with more baby Gachas. (Clay had suggested they just kill the excess Gachas, at which Altaïr grumbled that Desmond wouldn’t like that if he heard about it and Clay just made a whipping sound). One of them actually gives loot instead and Altaïr is trying to study how the hell that happened. 

So apparently Rubble Golem cannot be tamed but Rock Elemental can be? But if we want Altaïr to have a Rubble Golem instead, we can make it as a thank you gift from Desmond for the Mega Mek? Either way, this one is mainly used to mine resources for Altaïr’s ‘studies’.

It might not be his original Thylacoleo but Altaïr tends to forget that at times. It doesn’t mind. It mostly stays near Altaïr acting like an oversized lazy cat.

Okay. So this one is weird. There’s a Yeti in a cave near their base and Altaïr is currently studying it from afar because… it’s sorta a fascinating creature to him? Like it seemed to understand them to some degree and he would like to study it further before killing it (if the need to kill it does come up in the first place). Clay jokes that, soon enough, that Yeti will start learning sign language. That only made Altaïr curious if that would be possible.

Ezio:

Ezio would insist that he got a Managarmr because he’s all about the bling as Clay and Desmond like to tease. But also, the Managarmr is one of the more ‘dangerous’ mounts to use as they can attract aggro easily thanks to their ambush attacks and flashiness sooooo… there may be a reason why Clay dies a lot in this game thanks to Ezio XD (because of this though, Ezio’s other tames rarely, if ever, get hurt)

If Ratonhnhaké:ton’s previous Dire Bear was more on the attacking and mule side, Ezio’s Dire Bear is more of a jack of all trades but master of not. Loves to gather everything and anything it sees to get pets from Ezio. Fast enough that it could be used as a scout. Definitely packs a punch. And can take more weight than most. 

Tapejara is his aerial support and usually used to ferry him and his other tames into usually inaccessible areas. Tapejara is highly skilled because it does a lot of things, including stealing eggs while the mother is distracted.

Th T-rex is called Cars 2 (in honor of Desmond's T Rex named Car) which Clay claims to be an underrated Pixar movie that deserves more love. Desmond insists Clay is being sarcastic. Nobody else gets the reference.

Daeodon is a tame that everyone insists (especially Clay!) that Ezio brings with him because of its healing abilities. Seriously, Ezio needs it the most this time around for some reason (there are theories that the monsters that easily aggros on Ezio might have ‘smelled’ or ‘felt’ his connection to Clay and that’s the reason why Ezio has the second highest respawns in this around, 1st is Clay and that’s because of Ezio’s deaths mostly. It really says something that Desmond who would have to respawn if anyone BUT Clay dies is the 3rd highest this time around and he likes to ‘take a walk’)

The Desert Titan is usually used as a mobile base and Ezio taught it how to grab his corpse and run away. Actually, his tames had been taught of “Dead Ezio Protocol” which can be summarized as ‘grab Ezio’s corpse and find a safe place while keeping each other safe’. The Desert Titan usually served as the leader in that scenario with the Managarmr becoming bait and decoy while Tapejara flies back to the base to get Ezio.

Ratonhnhaké:ton

Absolutely agree. Ratonhnhaké:ton would like Snow Owl’s utility and also use him as a messenger if any of the others are nearby.

Rock Elemental: Yeeeess, the tank of Ratonhnhaké:ton’s pack and also the real MVP considering the amount of fighting they do.

Ratonhnhaké:ton let Desmond name Yutyrannus “Yuty Junior” in honor of the first Yuty. Ratonhnhaké:ton’s Yuty though is more on the buff-debuff side than pure damage, giving roars that ups attacks of damaged tames (which tend to happen) and weakens enemies.

Ratonhnhaké:ton asked Altaïr if he’d like to name his Megalosaurus in honor of Altaïr’s old Megalosaurus but Altaïr just reminded Ratonhnhaké:ton that he didn’t exactly name all of his tames. That’s more of Desmond and Ezio’s thing (Clay sighs and tells Desmond that naming them only makes it harder to let them go and Desmond groans that he knows that but he can’t help it, they look so sad without names and Clay will stress that, no, they do not, that Gacha is sad because he’s not getting any Gachussy). In honor of the nameless Megalosaurus, Ratonhnhaké:ton names his Megalosaurus Junior. (No one knows if he’s being serious or if it was a joke)

Iguanodon was one of Ratonhnhaké:ton’s first tames in this Ark but she’s been heavily outclassed by the other tames and the places Ratonhnhaké:ton now goes too can be quite dangerous for her. Mainly, she serves to gather food and act as a pack mule for the pack so they can continue on even longer without returning to base.

Forest Titan has a building on its back that stores most of Ratonhnhaké:ton’s other attack items including weapons, ammos and they serve as a mini-sorta base but not really a base? There is a bed there so Ratonhnhaké:ton can respawn on the back of the Forest Titan (he told Ezio he should do that as well but Ezio’s like ‘naahh, it’ll be fine’). The Forest Titan also serves as an offhand tank if Rock Elemental needs to tap out for a bit.

Clay

Tek Giga might have been the trigger that makes everything aggro at Clay. The Tek Giga was Clay’s first hack and hacking in this Ark takes a long time so he could not do it anymore because of all the aggros. However, with the help of others, Clay is planning to try hacking another one. Maybe even the big boss just for shits and giggles XD

Tek Rex and the Tek Raptor Pack are Clay’s main damagers. He calls them his “Jurassic Park Gang”. Only Desmond gets that reference of course. 

Tek Quetzal is usually his go to mount whenever some big fight is happening and staying on Tek Giga or even Tek Rex would be dangerous.

Tek Parasaur is there to cause chaos, master of hit and run attacks and also… berry gathering. This one looovvveeesss stimberry and the common joke is that it’s tweaking when it’s out gathering stimberries XD

His Enforcer is something he fully crafted on his own and, no, he will not do that abdomination that Altaïr was still doing. At some point, Clay thinks Altaïr should just stop but he knows he won’t. He had a taste of what it feels like to be Frankenstein and he’s going to keep going until the Monster finally says no. (Desmond tells him to stop being so overly dramatic)

[gravitytrips]

Fic based on this prompt I got out of Adam

Time to put my favorite skinny boy into situations

Scout had been missing for four days. Everyone was kind of worrying, but when the nauseating smell of death started filling the base, there was a full-blown panic. None of the mercs wanted to believe that the scent they were smelling was the rotting corpse of their friend, but it was becoming clear that that was the only option.

But where?

Where was the body?

This question went unanswered for a whole other day before Engineer’s foot punched through the floor.

There was a hole. Too small for any of the mercs to fall down. All but one.

When Engineer pulled himself out of the hole and shone a flashlight inside, he couldn’t help but cry out.

There, wedged into the hole, was the decomposing corpse of Scout.

Medic quickly arrived, drawn to the sound of Engineer’s yelp. When Medic rounded the corner, he saw Engineer peaking into a hole, his hand over his mouth.

“Herr Engineer? What happened?”

Engineer didn’t speak, he just backed away from the hole and turned away. If his goggles were off, you would have seen the tears in his eyes.

Medic was too curious. He looked. A look of shock, then sadness crossed his face.

“Ah, so that’s the smell.”

Medic looked towards Engineer.

“We’ll have to get him out of there. Help me, bitte”

Medic and Engineer were able to drag Scout’s corpse out of the hole using the electrical chord Engineer always carries. Engineer nearly threw up when his flesh hand brushed the boy’s dead body.

After removing Scout from the hole, Medic sent Engineer out to tell the others what was happening. After Engineer sprinted off (wanting to be nowhere near this horrible event), Medic inspected the hole to see what had happened.

As mentioned before, the hole was too small for the mercs to plausibly fit down, but Scout in his glorious, skinny, double-jointedness had fallen right down. His arms had been trapped in front of his chest. He couldn’t have breathed much. Let alone enough to scream for help. Scout had either suffocated or died of thirst. Either way, Medic felt awful. He passed by this hole many times a day, and yet, he never thought to check it. Could Scout’s death be on his hands?

Medic’s memories became muddled. Hadn't he heard scratching and breathing coming out of the hole in the days past? Had he? Could he have saved Scout if he just looked in the hole?

No, Medic told himself. Scout probably quickly died of asphyxiation. There was no way to save him.

Medic’s head was in his hands by the time Engineer returned with the others. Medic filled them in on the situation, his voice cracking more times than he would have liked. The team gazed at Scout’s body. Then Heavy asked the burning question.

“What do we do with Scout’s body?”

Burial? Cremation? Perhaps something else….

Medic was brewing an idea. A good idea. Or at least, it was in his mind.

“I need a sample from him. I may be able to bring him back.”

(If yall like this I’ll write a part two)

(I’d like to thank the Mr. Ballen “Three places you can’t go and people who went there anyways” series for giving me the best horrible death inspirations. It was hard to pick one)

Hold on let me summon somebody real quick

^ < @aerowolf > ¥

[mountmasxn]

It’s Always Been You

Two best friends realise that their friendship could be something more. 

You could see Mason out of the corner of your eye staring at you as Declan whispered something in his ear. You were trying to ignore him however as your friend went on and on about how you need to have a one night stand to finally get over your ex and get every out of your system. You had recently broke up with the boyfriend you had had since you were 18 and for the first time in your adult life you were single and didn’t really know what to do. You knew your friend had made you come out tonight because the boys in your friendship group would also be there and as a result Mason would also be there. 

The two of you had known basically all your life, you grew up on the same street, went to the same school, you watched him grow up into the football star he is today while he watched you grow into the sought after model and influence you were. Anyone looking in on the friendship could see that you and him were so suited for each other and meant to be. Everyone else could see it, but neither of you two did. To you, he would always be the floppy haired boy who pulled your hair when you were younger, while to him, you would also be the girl that helped him with his homework in school. Well that’s what the pair of thought anyway. 

You had always had a crush on Mason since you were about 14 and the same with him, although neither of you acted on it as it would be weird right? Two best friends becoming boyfriend and girlfriend? That would destroy your friendship if it was to end badly so neither of you acted on your feelings. You did try when you were both 16. Not that any of your friends knew. You and Mason had always been close so the two of you spending time together was nothing unusual so under the premise that you were helping him with school work the two of you would go on what ever ‘dates’ two 16 year olds could. But the two of you did take each other virginities. That was something the two of you shared. That intimate secret that you could see every time you looked at Mason, even 7 years later. 

But after a summer of hiding all this the pair of you decided to leave whatever it was in the past and go back to being friends to save your friendship group becoming awkward. And so your lives went on separately. When Mason moved away to the Netherlands when he was on loan you got a boyfriend. And when he returned to England he met someone and started a relationship with her. You both contented yourselves with being friends and were happy for other person. You were scouted by a modelling agency and started a YouTube career that matched your growing Instagram following, while Mason worked his way up the ranks at Chelsea and began a promising football career. 

Your relationship with your ex ended about a month ago because he cheated on you. You had been with him for almost 5 years so the breakup was hard on you. Lily, your best friend, had been trying for the last 2 weeks to get you to come out for her birthday because ‘everyone will be there y/n, you have to come, I can’t turn 23 without my best friend’ she would wine at you every time you told her you weren’t in the mood to go out. She would always respond with that and then go on to say how when you go out she’ll find you a guy to get with for a rebound from your shitty ex. So that’s how you ended up sitting in a VIP booth in a club in London sipping on whatever drink she decided was appropriate. 

You had to admit you were enjoying yourself. Actually being dressed and up and seeing people other than the doctors on Grey’s Anatomy was a good feeling. But you knew you weren’t ready to just sleep with someone, you just wanted to get drunk, have fun and get a McDonalds on the way home before nursing a hangover tomorrow. 

Mason and Declan were the last of the group to arrive, you knew it was because of Mason’s terrible time keeping but as they made their way over to you, you couldn’t help but get butterflies at the way Mason looked. In that moment you felt like 15 year old you again with a massive crush on the Mason Mount from round the corner. But instead now you had a massive crush on the Mason Mount Chelsea football star. 

Him and Declan made a bee line to your table to give Lily a hug and you could hear Declan apologise for being late and blaming Mason who just laughed and said something about perfection taking time. You smiled at the pair of them not knowing what to say. You really did feel like a school girl again. Mason was the first to make a move as he went to hug you and as he did he whispered in your ear, ‘you looked great y/n, I didn’t think you would be here.’ As you pulled away you furrowed your eyebrows, ‘Why wouldn’t I, it’s Lily’s birthday?’ Mason just shrugged, ‘I just thought that with everything that happened you wouldn’t want to deal with everyone asking you questions about it.’ 

‘Well no one has asked me questions about it Mount, except you.’ Even within the darkness of the club you could see Mason going red with embarrassment. ‘It’s fine Mase, Lily convinced me to come out and enjoy myself and that’s here to do. So fuck him!’ The both of you laugh, ‘my thoughts exactly y/n. Come on you need a drink.’ He nodded to the nearly empty class in your hand. Mason moved off and naturally grabbed your hand, an action that now gave you butterflies. You looked back at the table your friends were at to see Lily smiling at you with her thumbs up. Strange you thought. 

Mason ordered the two of a vodka and lemonade along with a shot each. Mason handed on to you, ‘Fuck him’ he smiled as he raised the class in the air. ‘Fuck him’ you repeated and raised your class to meet his. Your classes clinked together and you knocked the shot back all before Mason grabbed both your drinks and then your arm to pull you into the dance floor of the club. The two of you danced together before gradually your whole friend group were dancing around with each other. As midnight came a round of shots was brought down to your area at the request of Mason so you could all take on and celebrate Lily’s official birthday beginning. 

After a few more hours you knew yourself that you were at your limit. You were at a nice stage of drunk but one more drink and you would more than likely be boking all over the taxi on the way home. You were still dancing with Mason who was really just holding you up as you were getting unsteady on your feet. ‘You ready to go home?’ You heard him shout over the music. You turned to him and nodded. It wasn’t unusual for you to end up back at Mason’s after a night out. One of his spare rooms was basically yours you stayed there that often. You let all your friends know the two of were leaving before you actually left. ‘Please just sleep with him already.’ Lily told you as she hugged you. You shock your head and laughed at her drunkenness, but you kissed her cheek and waved at her as Mason grabbed your hand to leave the club. 

You walked outside the club and the cold air hit you immediately. Mason noticed you shivering and took his jacket off to slip over your shoulders. You smiled up at him and mumbled a quick thanks. ‘Fuck me, my feet hurt so much in these heels.’ You shouted dramatically as Mason was ordering a taxi for the both of you. He turned to look at your struggling to untie the shoes in your drunken state and decided it would be best if he helped you so you wouldn’t fall. He bent down on one knee in front of you, ‘Oh my god Mase get up people are gonna think your proposing!’ You said as he lifted one of your legs so he could take your shoe off. 

‘No they won’t y/n. Now just hold on to me before you fall.’ He was being assertive with you and you don’t know why it was turning you on. You just stood and watched him. You admired the broadness of his shoulders and the way his muscles flexed as he worked at taking your shoes off. You realised that this was no longer a crush, it was full blown sexual attraction on your part. Mason set your foot on the ground again and looked up at you from his current position. ‘What you looking at me like that for?’ He said as he stood up. 

‘You’re just really sexy Mason and I think I love. Like I think I’ve loved you since we were 16.’ You said before you even had time to process it. Mason just stared at you not knowing what to say as he felt the same way. Your eyed widened once you realised what you said and looked at Mason as he just smiled and shock his head, ‘Your just really drunk y/n’ he replied and smiled at you before grabbing your hand to pull you into the taxi that had just pulled up. Mason got the two of you bundled into the back of the car and gave the taxi man his address. The entire journey to Mason’s house the both of you just there in silence, but holding hands as neither one wanted to release their grip on the other one. For you, you wanted to prove to Mason that your confession was genuine and not just fuelled by alcohol. And for him, he wanted to prove to you that he was thought the same but didn’t want to act on while you were both drunk. 

Once you got back to Mason house you both made your way into his kitchen to get some food. You didn’t really want food, but you knew that is were Mason would go as he would get a bag of peanut M&Ms. He always did when he was drunk. You realised that you knew every little thing about him at this point. You knew his habits, you knew his routines but what you didn’t know was if he loved you the same way you loved him. 

‘Mase I’m sorry about before I just had to get it out of my system and don’t want you to think that I said it because I was drunk or because I’m lonely now or- ‘ your rant was cut off with Mason’s lips on yours. It took you a minute to realise what he was doing before you responded. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he lifted you onto the counter and planted himself between your legs as you wrapped them round his waist. Both of you were on fire, neither of you had felt this good in a long time and you didn’t want it to end. Mason’s hands were all over your body and he felt you bring your hands down to his belt and before he realised what he was doing he pulled away and stepped back, leaving a gap between the two of you now. 

‘We can’t do this now. I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you because I’m not,’ he stepped forward and took your face in his hands, resting his forehead on yours. ‘Because I love you too y/n but we need to talk about this sober. Tomorrow, we are gonna talk about this tomorrow, okay?’ He pecked your lips to reassure you. You just nodded and hugged him. This didn’t feel awkward, this felt right, even though everything was up in the air right now you just wanted to be near him. 

‘Can I sleep in your bed tonight, I don’t want to be alone?’ You said in a quiet voice looking down at your hands that were now fidgeting. ‘Yeah, course you can.’ Mason said as he lifted your handed to his lips to press a small kiss to them. He was reassuring you again as he knew you played with your hands when you were nervous. The two of you made your way up stairs and got ready for bed before crawling in to bed together. 

.

You woke up the next morning to an empty bed in Mason’s room. You remembered everything from the night before. You found your phone on the bedside table and opened to find messages from Lily asking if you had finally slept with Mason or not. You replied to her messages with a ‘I’ll fill you in on a lot later.’ You locked your phone and threw it to the side. Your head was pounding so you decided to go in search for painkillers. Just as opened to door you found Mason standing at the top of his stairs with a bottle of water in his arm, a packet of painkillers, and two cups of tea in his hands. You smiled at him ‘you read my mind Mase,’ you giggled as you turned back into his room and made your way to his bed. 

‘I though we might need these, my heads banging.’ He said as he made his way into the room and set the tea on the bedside table at his side of the bed. He handed you the packet of tablet and bottle of water, which you gladly accepted. ‘Yeah last night was fun’ you nodded. It was awkward now. It wasn’t awkward last night but now you didn’t have the confidence boost alcohol gave you so you didn’t know how to address the topic. 

‘Listen Mase, about last night we don’t have to-’ ‘No stop that y/n, I want to talk about it because I have a lot of things I want to say, so can you please just let me say them and then we can go from there?’ You nodded your head and waited for him to start. 

‘I love you too. Like I think I have loved you since we were 16 too.’ you smiled as he repeated your words from last night, ‘I was shocked last night when you said that because I didn’t expect it and I tried to tell myself that you were just drunk because there was no way you could actually feel the same way as I do. I settled on just being your friend because that way I got to keep you in my life and even though it killed me every time I seen you with him I was happy because you were happy. I hate that guy for what he has done to you and if I ever see him I don’t know what I’ll do because he is so fucking stupid for letting someone like you go because you one of the most genuinely, thoughtful people out there not the mention you are fucking gorgeous so any guy would be stupid to let you go. And I include myself in that because I was so stupid to let you go all those years ago and I should have fought more for us and not cared about fucking up friendships or the group, I should have just went with my heart and loved you from then. We would have had 8 years together instead of watching each other be with other people.’

‘I want us to be together y/n. You don’t have to give me an answer now but I’ll wait for you until whenever, because it’s always been you y/n. There is literally no one else for me so please just think about it and give us a chance.’ He took a deep breathe and looked at you as he had just poured his whole heart out to you and felt so vulnerable. You had tears in your eyes and you were smiling. That was all you needed to hear before you jumped on him and kissed him. ‘I don’t know how to top that Mase, but everything you said I feel too. I love you. I love so much that I didn’t realise it until now.’ You said as you stared into his eyes while clinging to him like you were gonna lose him. 

‘So are you my girlfriend now or am I gonna have to do some grafting?’ He asked as he stroked you hair and moved his nose against yours. You pretended to think for a moment, ‘buy me a McDonalds breakfast and I’ll give you your answer.’ You teased.