#burnout john

[swifty-fox]

it's not true that i had nothing on. A Little Beasts fic (8k words)

John leans in and kisses him solidly, “You should try it on.”

“Excuse me?”

“Try on the skirt, Gale.”

[boredth]

Do you plan on making any other cyber-JW characters? I love your style and I'm curious to see how you'd redesign them ^^ (Caine perchance :3)

No but I've been thinking about it all day now thanks

[sergeantwoods]

inhale, exhale. inhale, exhale. inhale, exhale. inhale, exhale. in--

the thump of the helo hitting the ground lifted ghost from his thoughts, and he sighed. exhale.

roach and gaz slowly broke apart from their huddling, probably talking about some dumb shit. ghost huffed, turning away from the two.

see, soap was dead. he has been for a while. a while is 8 months. but that's still a while in his books. because he could never let johnny's death go. never.

roach was soaps replacement. but he could never amount to johnny. so as much as he tried, he wouldn't get half of ghost's respect. roach wasn't bad, don't get him wrong. the kid was good at his job, smart, funny. but if he thought he could replace soap, then he was sorely mistaken. nobody can replace soap.

ghost doesn't understand how gaz and price moved on so quickly. their mourning only lasted about, what, a month? two? even so, it was too fast. like they dumped the idea of the bright-eyed sergeant away too quickly. it cut at simon's heart.

a pat on his shoulder had him roused from his thoughts, and he met eyes with price. price nodded at him, and he dipped his head back. swallowing shallowly, he stood up, following behind the captain.

once they reached the snowy ground, price waved nik off, and nik grinned and winked before launching in the air again and leaving. now, it was just the four of them, plus the two rookies that had been assigned this mission.

"alright," price started, coughing. his eyes narrowed, and he gestured at the facility that was barely visible from their view. "we're just going in to grab intel. they have guards, yes, but they are easy to bypass. it's easy. don't make it harder than it has to be." at the collective 'yes sirs!' he recieved, he nodded.

"sergeant valkyrie, lieutenant mirage, go on overwatch. me and the others are going into building A. keep watch for us. don't mess up; this is important." when the sergeant and the lieutenant nodded, he turned to the direction of the building.

"alright. when we get there, i'll tell overwatch where to set up, then we'll go and get that intel. shouldn't take too long." clapping his hands, he continued. "let's get going."

they trudged at least a few miles towards the compound, dropping of overwatch on the way. when they reached the cliff that dropped down to reveal the building, price split them into smaller groups.

it took them a few minutes to get down, grunts of effort being heard through comms. the awkward shuffling from the rookie's side of the comms were picked up, agitating ghost's ears. he was tempted to turn it off, but he decided against it. it would stop later, anyway. they'd get busy and focus.

gritting his teeth, he took out his assault rifle. price gave them a few more directions, before they took off for their missions.

it starts off slow. yeah, it started off slow. but now, here they were, huddled under some block of cement, to hide from the rain of bullets coming their way. price curses under his breath from ghost's side, reloading his gun hurriedly before peeking out from the side of the block and shooting.

ghost looked out from the side as well, shooting enemies one by one with deadly accuracy.

"overwatch, how many more are there?" price hisses, reloading his gun again.

"they just keep coming, sir," valkyrie says, growling under his breath as he snipes some soldier in the swarm of konni's coming after them.

"fuuuck, there wasn't supposed to be this many!"

ghost couldn't help the snort that left him. price side eyes him, then roughly grabs his shoulder.

"we're moving, lieutenant, come on."

nodding, he covered the captain as the sprinted into the building next to them. once they entered, it became eerily silent, save for their shoes squeaking against the sterile marbled floor. it looked like a part of an airport, almost, minus all the obviously military things lying around.

even when price lowered his gun, ghost kept his up. they couldn't afford to be caught off guard.

"simon. there isn't anyone in here."

flicking his eyes to price, he slowly lowers the gun. if price told him to lower the gun only for them to get --

he lets out a surprised sound as something -- no, someone -- tackles him to the ground. his head hits the ground first, and the all-too-familiar feeling of the barrel of a gun being pressed to the back of neck is present before he hears price letting out a shout and barreling towards the figure on top of him to the ground.

ghost groans, head spinning. he hears the sounds of price and the russian tussling besides him, but he can't seem to care over the pain in his head.

it takes a few seconds to finally come too, but when he does, he realizes that price is being attacked. and suddenly his senses are in overdrive, and he sweeps the attacker of their feet and onto the ground. their gun goes flying, and they land on their back with a pained grunt. he goes to stand over them. and now he gets to see their face.

his heart drops.

a familiar face. it isn't supposed to be familiar -- the eyes. it's fucking green, not blue. and the muzzle. and the fluffed out, ruffled mohawk. it isn't johnny. but it is? johnny wouldn't betray them. and he wouldn't do... whatever this is. wouldn't agree to it.

soap snarls from his position on the floor, eyes narrowed and staring apoplectically up at ghost. his breaths were coming out in short, angry puffs, the sound strange from the muzzle.

"johnny?"

nothing in his face changes. no pause, no hesitation, no sadness, no recognition. ghost face screws up under the mask in concern. what the hell happened to him?

price shakily gets up beside him, staring down at soap. his face was white as a sheet, and he whispers out a hoarse, "soap?"

soap grips ghosts ankles, writhing on the floor, trying to flip him over. he doesn't move, stuck gawking at soap.

"what did they do to you?" he murmurs out; half to himself and half to soap.

the only response he gets is a strangled "fuck you," from the man himself, still trying to flip ghost over.

price crouches on the ground, a pained expression on his face. he looks back up at ghost, eyes tired.

"what the hell should we do with him?"

"don't think he knows who we are. i said his name, no sign of recognition. doesn't look like he's willing to communicate, either. and you're the captain. you decide."

price sighs, rubbing his forehead as he thinks.

"well, either we just leave him here, cuff him to a bar." he pauses, seeing ghosts brow furrow.

"bu-- "

"and i know that's not an option anyone would like," he cuts ghost off, then continues with an exhale. "or we could sedate him and bring him back with us, and ask questions when we get back. or we could cuff him and bring him back. which one is safer?"

"unless you want to have a sparring match on the helo, i don't recommend cuffs. sedate seems safer, the only good option. i think gaz would try and murder us if we left soap here, too. you got a tranquilizer?"

price nodded. "yeah. can you hold him?"

"of course."

already crouching, price moved closer to soap, taking out a kit with the needle in it. the now green-eyed man's eyes widened, and he jerked away from price. ghost crouches down too, holding soap down. using one hand, he gently combs his fingers through his mohawk.

soaps eyes snap to ghosts; confusion lacing the sickly green. but he's staring up ghost, confusion turning into... fascination? interest? and he's certainly not paying attention when price winces and gets closer. he sticks the needle in the side of his neck when he gets close enough, and ghost grip on soap immediately tightens.

johnny immediately lurches away, crying out in surprise, and thrashing around. it only takes a few moments for the movements to become sluggish, and before they know it, soap is completely asleep.

it's quiet in the building. except for the loud breathing from soaps muzzle.

prices hand reaches to his comms. he clicks it on, voice low and gravelly as he speaks into it.

"well. gaz, guess who we found?"

HEEEEEEEELP THAT WAS SO LAZY IM SOBBING 😭

i swear i can write better thn that -- that was like. only 50% energy. i rushed this in an hour. yes, an hour. that's not really rushing, but i got very distracted a couple times.

well, heres my serving of brainwashed soap for the night. don't expect anything from me for like. another month or two .😭i mean, the medieval fic is gonna kick off sometime, so expect that

i very quickly proofread this, so if there was typos jus,,. ignore that please 🙏

here u go, @spottlessspectre

[brekkie-art]

‘Oh my god, Arthur…I see it…the eye…there is a creature of unfathomable size down here.’

Finally finished my Malevolent fanart I’ve been working on for weeks now, on and off. I really wanted to capture the scale and horror of this bit, and decided to do it in greyscale and work on my values.

[karkatbug]

2 days to go! Day 4 - Fave Trope/AU

That's right I can't go a day without thinking about college au, coffee shop au, enemies to lovers slowburn 100k word, will they wont they oh god their pinkies touched—

@413countdown

[elliebell77]

sorry i havent been posting i think im burnt out rn

[fist-of-vengeance]

neurodivergent former gifted kids be like

something about having your identity and self worth entangled with the notion of being "special" and losing touch with other people as a consequence...

[anothercrisis]

Ghost had seen it coming. Back when he’d been more Ghost than he was Simon, he knew something like this was going to happen. It was the nature of things, to deny yourself something for the sake of protection and for that very thing to break you once you finally let it in.

It didn't hurt for a while there, after the initial pain of opening up after so many years of keeping his armor on. It didn't hurt to love, not when it was Johnny; because with him, it was as easy as breathing. The ease was something that scared Simon at first, upset him, because this thing that he had denied himself and locked out for so long should have hurt. It should have hurt like hell to let the feelings back in and Simon wanted it to hurt, wanted there to be a valid reason why he kept himself closed off for so long.

But it didn't hurt. It was a little uncomfortable at first, letting Johnny in. There was a stiffness to it, like a dormant muscle Simon had to remember how to move. It was the plating of his armor moving aside so that Johnny could come in. It was a little awkward maybe, but it didn't hurt. And then once the uncertainty cleared away, loving him was easy. It was the easiest thing Simon had ever had the privilege to do.

With Johnny at his side, it was easy to lose his grip on Ghost and all the pain he chose to carry. It was easy to drop the weight off his shoulders, to let Johnny help soothe it. Easy to remember how to be Simon, because Johnny made him feel human again and he gave Simon the attention and care and help he needed to remember how to be human again.

And maybe that's where Simon went wrong. Maybe it was somewhere between the welcome mat he laid out at Johnny's feet and the way he was allowed to lean on Johnny where he misstepped. Where he missed the signs, where he didn't calculate the outcome like he should have.

Simon wasn't sure where the miscalculation was made, but he knew that it had happened without him noticing.

How did he forget to wonder what would happen if there was no more Johnny?

How did he fail to consider how hard it would be for him to remain upright if he no longer had Johnny to lean on?

But maybe he'd started thinking about it once and disregarded the thought before it could fully form. Flashed by in a glimpse because the thought of a world without Johnny in it was unfathomable and didn't need to be considered.

John "Soap" MacTavish might have been a little reckless, but that didn't matter when he was always okay. It didn't matter how much rubble he found a way to bury himself under because he always got back up, covered in dust and grinning widely. How was Simon supposed to know that there would come a time when Johnny wouldn't get back up? Every time before, Johnny had gotten up. There had never been a single time in which he hadn't. There was something to be said in the probability rates about the likelihood of Johnny's survival; it should have been a one hundred percent chance, as never before had he failed to do so.

But that was just Simon trying to comfort himself, and he would one day realize that nothing in life is a guarantee, there was never a one hundred percent chance of anything, other than that fact being true.

Today wasn't that day however. Today was the day of Soap's funeral.

Simon didn't want to go. He didn't want to drag his ass off base, away from his bed and the gym, but he had done it. Despite how he felt about how it was only right for him to attend his own partner's funeral, he had almost turned around at the last second. He would have marched right back to his room if not for Gaz.

Kyle had been crying, and it wasn't just the fact that his eyes were an exhausted red that gave him away; it was the fact he was crying just about every time he encountered Simon. Simon wasn't sure why that was, if it was the empty space beside him that set Kyle off or if Kyle was crying simply because Simon wasn't.

As far as he knew, everyone thought that Simon wasn't crying over their loss. That with Johnny gone he had fallen back into the masked version of himself, emoting nothing and resembling a cold stone.

It wasn't true. Some days he wished it was like that. Wished that he could go back to feeling nothing; it wasn't easier, not then and certainly not now, but it would be quieter, calmer. Simon would do just about anything to not be able to feel like his chest was splitting open down the middle. He would do just about anything to be unaware of the tangible emptiness at his side, to be unable to feel the absence like a lost limb.

But after all those months with Johnny, being Simon, he no longer knew how to be Ghost.

[theartisticintrovert]

me before double/neoplasm: niko is innocent! mikoto is putting on a mask so people will like him!!! (righteous fury)

me after double/neoplasm: niko is innocent.... mikoto is putting on a mask so people will like him........ (sobbing incoherently)

[swifty-fox]

"You ask so nice darling.” he croons, kissing up Gale’s chest, leaving behind blooming bite marks. 

The priest is making soft little noises with every roll of John’s hips, head thrown back for John’s feasting mouth and hands clutching the sheets on either side of him.

“What a naughty girl you are, letting me in here to ravish you. You ever been fucked by a boy before?’

“Stop.” Gale wheezes out, blush creeping over his neck and shoulders. 

“Letting me suck on your titties ‘til they’re nice and pink, what else will you let me do?”

Gale lets out a strangled, helpless noise. John can feel the blonde’s cock twitch against his own and fuck if it doesn’t make him want to breathe fire. He wonders what it would feel like inside him. 

John kisses him, one hand back around his neck to tilt his head at the proper angle, slips his tongue between Gale’s teeth and licks every tiny sound before it can escape into the room. They belonged to John and John alone. -Little Beasts P2

SO uh.

listen

[pinkysberg]

my weed smoking gf

[delishtequila]

cannot sleep so might as well make a continuation of this.

She irritates me, I say. She should stop getting in the way whenever I needed to talk to someone. She might as well stop giving me cheesy jokes that don't make sense to me!

I give her the cold shoulder every time, yet each time she always tries to approach me with the biggest smile..

[dk-thrive]

Life afforded no pause. Slack your pace and you’re finished.

John Cotter, Losing Music: A Memoir (Milkweed Editions, April 11, 2023) 

[wwprice1]

Gen-13 by Gary Frank and Cam Smith.

[ohno-goddammit-haych]

what r u up to now? ur blog is so quiet

i have a job now dawg

[nerds-yearbook]

In Gen 13 59# vol 2 (cover date January, 2001), John Lynch quits the team. ("Ghost, No Shell, Over Easy", Gen 13 59# vl 2, Comic, Event)