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donelywell · 10 months

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This is just a summary of how the story goes, kinda like bullet points I guess. If the time ever comes that this eventually gets written as an actual story, It would be a lot more detailed than this. Also, I don't own Sonic Unleashed or think the story is bad (I actually really like it), this is just how a strange person (me) would handle the story in their own fan universe thing.

DEATH EGG October 1

Tails helps Sonic get up to the Death Egg.

Sonic storms the Death Egg, going Super.

Super Sonic follows Eggman, he begs for mercy, but it’s a trick.

Super Sonic gets the Chaos Emeralds ripped right out of him,

Eggman fires a beam filled with the Chaos Energy to the planet, cracking it into 7 pieces, releasing a Giant Monster, but it fades away.

Sonic turns into the Werehog, only barely hearing Eggman yell something about the Gaia Manuscripts through all of the intense pain that he’s going through, and is shot out of the Death Egg with the now drained Chaos Emeralds. Tails, on the Tornado-1, sees this happen, and chases after him.

APOTOS October 1

Sonic crashes into Apotos. He notices that there is a small being passed out near him, so he tries waking him up to see if he’s okay, this ends up scaring the kid for some reason.

Sonic realizes he can’t talk for some reason, his throat feels off and his teeth feel weird, so he uses sign language to try asking if the kid is okay. The kid doesn’t understand, but assumes (probably not the smartest move) that he means no harm because his eyes seem genuinely worried, plus he’s slowly moving as though afraid to scare off the kid again.

The kid calls him ‘Mr. Monster Guy’, which makes Sonic realize he’s not his usual self. This mildly freaks him out, but he tries to act calm to not freak the small creature out. Using his claws, he writes in the dirt, which luckily the kid can read, and realizes the creature has amnesia. Sonic worries that he might have caused it, and vows to help him get his memories back. (Little Fella joined the party!)

Sonic looks at the rising sun, looking at it as something to lean on to stay optimistic, and turns back into his regular self. He finds his shoes and now drained Chaos Emeralds lying on the ground, and with a lot more pep in his step, holds onto the kid and races off to the closest city to hopefully get someone who recognizes the little creature (and see if Tails landed there after he launched Sonic into space).

>Windmill Isle Day Act 1 (plays as it normally would)

Sonic questions everything that just happened, the Chaos Emeralds being drained, the strange new form he took not even 15 minutes prior, what this ‘Gaia Manuscript’ is that Eggman was talking about; but he’s interrupted by the kid getting sidetracked from the memory treasure hunt with an ice cream stand that holds the famous Chocolate Chipped Cream Sundae Supreme! After a little begging, Sonic ends up paying for 2 cones. Sonic ends up calling the creature ‘Chip’ as a temporary nickname until they get his memories back, Chip absolutely loves it.

While they go around enjoying their ice cream and asking questions about Chip's past, Sonic ends up being given someone's pair of gloves.

Meanwhile, Tails is searching for Sonic, he’s surprised that his communicator is broken, or at least not responding, because it should have been able to survive a fall that high. He manages to get a rough estimate as to where he might be judging by where he fell, but Sonic could really be anywhere on this section of the planet with his speed.

Tails is highly concerned for Sonic’s health and safety since the last reading from the communicator reported that his heart rate has spiked dramatically right before he saw him fall from the sky.

>Windmill Isle Day Act 2 (You play as Tails as he flies around town, looking for Sonic)

As he still searches for Sonic as it’s heading into sunset, Tails gets a call from Knuckles telling him that something happened to the Master Emerald and that Angel Island has landed.

Tails tells him that he’s looking for Sonic at the moment, but promises to come over as soon as he can.

After the call is over, Tails realizes how long it’s been since he last ate and spots a local Gyro Food Truck. He ordered a bunch for Sonic to eat later if he spots him.

As the sun is setting, Sonic and Chip still haven’t found anyone who recognizes Chip. Sonic gives Chip a pep talk when he sees that the kid’s down in the dumps, suggesting that there are lots of areas around the world, maybe he’s just not from here. Right when Chip feels reassured, Sonic transforms back into the Werehog. Both are stunned and Sonic realizes that he changes into the form every night (Chip needs a moment to come to the same conclusion).

Chip immediately notices that the Sundae Stand Owner is acting strange, and asks him what’s wrong, even suggesting he eats some ice cream. Sonic shoves his now too-big-shoes into his quills until daytime. Chip accidentally drops the ice cream, but Sonic manages to catch it by stretching his arm out. Both are extremely surprised by this, kinda freaking Sonic out with how strange it feels but he thinks it’s kinda cool. Chip really likes the stripes.

Meanwhile, Tails finds himself in between a rock and a hard place. He’s surrounded by these strange enemies and forgot his weapon at the Tornado-1. He would normally spin dash into them, but judging by the sharp claws and spikes on them, his fur would not be enough defense from that hurting him more than it hurting them.

He could have also flown away from danger, but he’s currently trying to protect a lost little girl he found surrounded by said enemies. He knows he doesn’t have enough time to drop his defenses and fly away while carrying her before they attack, so he just has to try keeping the already miniscule amount of ground they have.

While not looking, an enemy gets a lucky hit on him, causing him to yell out in pain. Despite the pain, he refuses to stand down and keeps defending the little girl.

With his new sensitive hearing, Sonic hears Tails’ yell. Instincts kick in, realizing his little brother is hurt, and runs after the sound. Chip, with his not as sensitive hearing, flies after Sonic in confusion.

>Windmill Isle Night Act 1 (plays as it normally would)

Once he makes it to Tails’ location, all of the enemies focus on the actual threat, Sonic. The little girl uses this to run back home, and Tails hides behind a wall holding his wound from bleeding too much.

The enemies are piling onto Sonic, so he unleashes all of the energy he’s built up (and some instincts he didn’t know he had), somehow becoming more powerful for a period of time, yet feeling a little high off the energy practically pouring out of each hit he makes in this unleashed state.

Sonic Emotions Handling Scale:

Normal form- Can hide it frustratingly well and has normal emotions,

Werehog form- His face and new Wolf-like instincts make it hard for him to hide it but he still tends to try to push it off if he can + negative emotions are a lot more powerful + he’s a little clingy,

Unleashed Boost- Can’t hide his emotions to save him and they are extremely powerful + easily goes into a downward spiral in emotions + somehow even more clingy + he still is super emotional when getting out of his Unleashed state and will do things without thinking.

After the fight is over, Tails calls out to Sonic, he knew from the moment Sonic stepped into the battle that it was him, Sonic practically raised him for almost half of his life, how could he not tell? Sonic however, getting out of his Unleashed Boost daze, realizes just how dangerous and brutal he could be in this form. So once he hears Tails’ call, he books it in fear of possibly being able to harm Tails unintentionally.

Chip finally makes it over to the aftermath, he and Tails do a quick introduction (like saying, you know Sonic? You're the brother he was talking about? yep, let's go!), and book it towards Sonic. Tails is surprised that he’s actually able to catch up to Sonic, even on all fours, Tails’ namesakes spinning can beat him in a race now.

Sonic manages to hide in a barrel, in abject terror of what he is. Tails and Chip quickly catch up and sit near the barrel, trying to calm Sonic down. Letting him know that no matter what he looks like, he’ll always be by his side and his little brother. He proceeds to go on about how looking different doesn’t make you a monster or evil, having his tails sway as he talks, as a subtle reminder to Sonic that he went through that fear of being different too.

Sonic slowly uncovers his muzzle to use his hands to sign that he’s a monster who could hurt Tails. Tails is surprised by how open Sonic is being so open about his fears, he normally tries hiding it as best he can so others don’t worry for him (a bad trait that Tails is extremely relieved didn’t seem to carry over when he’s in this form). Tails gives a sad look and recounts all of the times that Tails has accidentally hurt Sonic due to not being used to touch (and the several months it took him to learn how to retract his claws), but Sonic stuck around every time and didn’t blame Tails for it at all.

Tails suggests that he runs a vitals check on Sonic back at the Tornado-1, to see if he can find out what’s causing this form. (Tails joined the party!)

That, and the smell of several Gyros in Tails’ bag, seem to be enough to make Sonic slowly walk out of the barrel on all fours. Tails notices that Sonic’s stomach is rumbling and uses this to walk him over to the Tornado-1 without having his mind drift into negativity (wow, that’s odd, Sonic’s almost never openly negative). Chip finds out Gyros are really good, almost eating 3 before they make it back to the biplane.

After eating, Sonic stands up (and is actively trying to ignore the stomach churning feeling of being so incredibly huge compared to his little brother), to sign that he can’t retract his claws or speak properly. Tails tries to make the best of it and says that Sonic doesn’t need to touch anything for the check up.

As Tails is cleaning up and patching his wound with the first aid kit he has stored in the Tornado-1 (he wanted to immediately do the check up on Sonic, but the werehog refused to even start that until Tails took care of his cut first), Chip is in awe that Tails can understand what Sonic means just by looking at his hands. He really wants to learn how to do that, so he can talk to Sonic at any time of the day. Tails tries to recall that he might still have some flashcards he’d give to any new friends Sonic made when he couldn’t speak.

Now tired and worn out from a long day of running around town, eating tasty food, fighting enemies, and making discoveries, Tails and Sonic sit on a brick fence next to the Tornado-1 to run a Vitals Check.

It’s a symphony of yawns as Chips quickly falls asleep on Sonic’s leg. Tails, being exhausted, unconsciously rests his tails on Sonic's lap (a deep sign of trust) and leans on him as a pillow (he realizes the sheer amount of muscle behind the fur, theorizing that the expanse of his arms might have stretched the communicator too far, thus breaking it), like how he sometimes would do that when the brothers ride a train late at night after a long adventure.

Sonic was in a half asleep state himself, but once he felt Tails’ tails rest on his lap, he perked right up. He’s surprised Tails can trust him so much even in this form, he thought this whole time that Tails was just bluffing it so Sonic would feel better. He might still be bluffing… using that 300 IQ brain to use this token trust sign to make Sonic relax. But Sonic quickly has exhaustion fog his brain again, letting this track of negative thoughts fizzle out at the moment.

With a yawn, Tails murmured that Sonic’s Vitals all seem normal, if not for a slightly higher than average Chaos Energy reading, but it’s not enough for it to change his form.

Tails is officially out, Sonic’s delicately soft fur and heart beat lulling him to sleep. Sonic, still not wanting to possibly harm anyone by accident, gently slips Chip off his leg, landing on his enormous paw (that’s another thing he feels off about, why are his hands so big?), and rests him on his head as he curls up as best he can without jostling Tails much. He tries his best to both find a comfortable position and keep his dangerous hands away from anyone. It’s a rough night, but they all got through it.

In the morning, Sonic transforms back to normal, with Tails handing him some spare gloves and a back-up communicator from the Tornado-1. After enjoying some Tarts for breakfast, they head out to Angel Island. Sonic accidentally falls asleep on the wing while Chip studies his flashcards in the back seat.

Angel Island

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic the werehog #tails the fox #miles tails prower #chip the light gaia #sonic unleashed #Sonic Unleashed: World Reimagined #Apotos #unbreakable bond #Uahh!! The first area is done!#The whole reason I'm doing this is mainly because I want to throw brotherly fluff into unleashed >:)

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crowsandkisses · 6 months

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De-polute me - Astarion x reader

Note: Astarion means a lot to me as a character and this is kinda based off of my own trauma because I see a lot of myself in him. I also haven't written in a minute so pardon any weird phrasing.

The reader is as vaguely described as I could manage so any and all can enjoy

cw: Trauma, vomit, panic attack.

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Somewhere in the back of his mind, Astarion knew he had to snap out of it. To come back to the present where he lay with his lover. But he couldn’t.

It was like watching the world through water. Everything was the same but somehow not. Like there was a distance and the other side held a place where he couldn’t survive right now. Where the air would leave his lungs with no way of replenishing itself. That he would choke on what he was faced with.

He watched how you slept, chest slowly rising and falling in the dim light of the fire. Still in a state of undress.

His eyes lingered on the bite on your neck. Two little puncture marks that had been reopened by his fangs so often they’d started to scar.

It made his stomach twist and turn, bile rising up his throat as he zeroed in on these tiny wounds.

He felt filthy for having left them there, even though you’d assured him time and again that it was alright. Sometimes you even enjoyed it.

But he couldn’t think of anything but how much of a parasite he was.

Leeching off of your goodwill and kindness, repaying you with his body because it was the only way he knew how. To lie on his back, purr some pretty phrases and slot into that old, familiar role of seductive pretty boy.

He had to give something back. He had to. Otherwise you’d likely come to demand payment regardless. Everyone always did. No kindness was just done for the sake of being kind.

His stomach turned again as guilt set in, draping over his shoulders like a heavy blanket. He knew he shouldn’t think these things of you but he couldn’t help it.

Quietly, he rose from his spot next to you. A place he didn’t feel should belong to him. Hells, he had seen the way Gale looked at you when he thought no one else paid attention. He could give the gentle kind of love Astarion felt incapable of.

He could grant you warmth Astarion didn’t possess. He could cook for you, share a meal, not have to leech off your body to keep himself alive.

Astarion walked a distance further into the treeline and all at once, his body lurched and his last meal found itself on the forest floor. He gagged and retched, tears flowing down his cheeks from discomfort and humiliation.

His pride felt wounded as he emptied his stomach, spitting after to try and clear the sour, copper taste from his mouth. He still stood bent over, vision blurred with tears as he fought a sob.

Suddenly he felt like a child again, desperately longing for his mother, who’s face he’d all but forgotten. He let himself cry, granting himself the luxury of it. His shoulders shook, his fangs sinking into his bottom lip as all the negative thoughts filled his head like a storm.

Then suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder, a soft voice taking him out of his head. He jerked up as if burned. He whirled around, furious he’d been caught unaware, without his knife. What if it was-

But whatever imagined horror he conjured up was nothing compared to the horror that the person who crept up on him was you.

His heart hammered against his ribs and he could hear his blood rush in his ears, vision going blurry at the edges. His breaths came stunted and he was only vaguely aware that you were speaking. But still, he felt like he was watching things through water, only this time he was drowning.

Like an animal fueled by instinct, he stepped back. He didn’t want you to touch him. For him to taint you further. He was trying to find words to say but the panic was too great.

For a moment, he thought he was about to die. That somehow, inexplicably, this would be the end of him. To die in a forest, in his own sick because he was caught in a moment of weakness .

A perfectly humiliating end to the life of a parasite of no consequence. A man who’d been so corrupt it nearly cost him his life only to be reduced to nothing but a pretty face and a willing cock. All to lead people into their untimely death, like the monster he was. A pretty face with a rotten core.

He didn’t realize he was saying these things aloud, nor that he was crying until your hand gingerly wiped his tears away. He flinched and he saw the heartbreak on your face, another twist of the dagger that had lodged itself into his chest.

“Breathe.”

The one word cut through the fog in his head and somehow he willed himself to obey your gently spoken command. The first breath in was stunted, like a small child after a crying fit. But breathing was easy enough to do, a simple thing to focus on for just a moment as he found the hurt, humiliation and pain he felt.

In, out. In. Hold. Out.

In. Hold. Out.

In. Out

He calmed down slowly, his vision sharpening, his heart slowing down.

And there you stood, eyes trained on him with a look of concern in your eyes.

His first instinct was anger. He already had a cutting remark on his tongue but he swallowed it.

You were worried about him. You were just trying to help.

“Are you okay?”

Astarion found himself bristling again at the comment, righting his back and pointing his chin, as if he had any pride left to hold onto. As if you didn’t just see him in the middle of a panic attack because god forbid you saw him as weak.

“I’m fine.” He lied, hating how unsteady his voice sounded.

You looked at him in a way that let on you were the farthest thing from fooled and he didn’t want to give up the game. To tear himself open, cry into your arms like a small part of him wanted to.

Eventually, you nodded.

“Can I touch you?’

The simple question knocked the wind out of him. A simple ask of consent disarmed him fully and he wanted to loathe himself for it again but couldn’t. He was so tired.

“Please.” Came his reply. Soft and pained as he finally stopped fighting himself.

You had barely embraced him when a new torrent of tears came. He buried his face in the junction of where your neck met your shoulder. A place he was intimately familiar with, but right now it wasn’t about sating his hunger. He felt your hand gently stroke his back as you comforted him.

Years of habit made him wonder when you’d use this against him but he did his best to ignore the thought. Instead focusing on the here and now. On the smell of your skin, how soft and warm you felt against him, of the sound of your voice as you told him he was alright. That you were there.

And for a moment, Astarion allowed himself to feel it.

To feel safe.

He felt the urge to be sick again.

Despite himself, he breathed deep like he had earlier, his crying slowing to a soft sniveling. He untangled himself from your embrace, your eyes still on him. He couldn’t bare to meet your gaze, clearing his throat as he studied the forest floor beneath your feet.

“Is there anything you need?” You asked and the question seemed a little absurd to him. He quietly shook his head.

“If it’s all the same to you, darling, I would like to go back to bed. And not speak of this again.”

His tone was a little harsh but you seemed to not take offense. You merely gave him the ghost of a smile.

“Come. I have a waterskin so you can rinse your mouth.” you said, half turning to the campsite.

Astarion nodded. He wanted to say thank you but the words rested heavy on his tongue only for them to die there.

In silence, the pair made their way back to the fire. With that frustratingly soft look on your face, you handed him your waterskin.

Astarion rinsed his mouth, relieved to no longer taste blood for a moment. He handed it back to you before quietly settling in so you could sleep and he could close his eyes for a moment.

Then tomorrow you could both pack up your things and move on to the next place. Kill what needed killing and pretend to be heroes.

“Would it be alright if I held you?”

Astarion looked up, surprised because despite himself, he was already getting back into his own head. He deflected it, as he usually did.

“Cannot get enough of me, darling?” The words, even if they were meant in jest, rang a little hollow. You gave him a look and he simply nodded, almost reluctantly settling in your arms.

He focused on the sound of your heartbeat, the rhythm of it lulling him into something close to comfort. He heard your breaths slow, sleep dragging you back into the land of dreams.

Astarion’s own eyes grew heavy as he settled against you, And for a moment, despite the fact the gods had never listened, he found himself thanking them for making someone like you.

Because even if he still had a long road to go, you made him feel a little less like a monster, and a little more like Astarion Ancunin.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3

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icanseethefuture333 · 1 year

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PAC: Urgent messages from your shadow self 🕷🕸🖤

Please leave a tip if you can $$$

Trigger warning: These tarot cards contain graphic content (gore, syringes, etc.) and in this pac there is mentions of trauma, substance abuse, inner child wounds, etc. The tone of the words will also sound blunt because the shadow self is brutally honest. Viewer discretion is advised.

Pile 1:

Beautiful Liar by Beyoncé & Shakira

Special by Ashnikko

Black Swan by BTS

Four of Fire, Two of Air, & Daughter of Air.

(Clarified by Adjustment)

Your shadow self wants to urge you to find balance within yourself and your life. Perhaps you are someone who is constantly juggling with tasks, hobbies, or responsibilities. You are being a "jack of all trades, but a master of none". You don't know how to multitask and yet you are still trying to do it - why? You are overwhelming yourself. Take smaller steps vs trying to finish everything all at once. You are making yourself sink into this hole of frustation on your own. In the future, you will just make things more difficult if you persist in this charade of yours. Your shadow self is giving you a kick in the butt because you rely too much on charm when you mess up or to get away shit. Also your "white lies" could turn into big lies. If you needed a job per say, this behavior could have you looked down and be seen as unprofessional. There's a lot of visuals regarding the circus. Such as the acrobats or fire tamers. You are talented and witty. Use your wits to find ways to accomplish your goals. I am also being reminded of the scene from Mulan where she unsheaths her swords and you can see her reflection. Perhaps you have a duality to yourself that you are unaware of. You need to look into the lightness and darkness of your soul. What are your light or shadow attributes? Your strengths or weaknesses? Think of what they are and write it down, then create a plan. Once you have decided what to do or how you can make better decisions. You will start to make progress in your journey. The girl is walking on a tightrope with a stick and bowls(?) on her head. This could mean you literally need to "tighten up" which is an expression of handling your business basically. There is birds flying behind her. Your spirit guides and higher self are supporting you as you walk towards your destiny. Be patient and grounded. You will feel proud of yourself in the end and feel grateful you learned this lesson. (Clarifying song: Libra by The Deli) You could be someone with Libra placements or you need to surround yourself with people that are this sign. This could also mean embodying the traits of Libra. They are known for their balance, diplomacy, fairness, friendliness, & charm.

Pile 2:

Assassin by Au/Ra

Cellophane by FKA Twigs

Go To Sleep by Bearson ft. Kailee Morgue

Five of Water (reversed), Seven of Air, & Son of Earth

(Clarified by The Magus (reversed).)

Tsk tsk. You're self sabotaging. What's going on, pile 2? I feel like you're trying to get over past disappointments but things keep crumbling and falling apart in your very eyes. You could be dealing with depression right now or you're avoiding the world because of this fear of yours. You could be laying in bed a lot or sleeping more than usual to cope. Some of you could have gotten rejected by someone you really liked and are thinking the worse as if it's the end of your love life. There's over 8 billion people in the world, it's not the end unless you act like it is. There could be so much abundance ahead of you if you would just stopped being so inconsistent and indecisive. Reflect as to why you're afraid, why are you self sabotaging, why are letting your life past you by when there's a whole world out there ready to be explored? (Clairifying song: NO PROBLEM by Nayeon ft Felix of Stray Kids) Whatever you dealt with is not happening to you right now. You survived baby. Sometimes it's good to be single because you can focus on putting that love towards your own heart. Try to focus on having fun vs finding the "one". You'd be surprised by how many people will be knocking at your door when you realize how much of a catch you are. Also stop comparing yourself to people on social media. Learn to see past people's illusions and understand they only post the positives of what's going on their life because they're scared of being vulnerable or seen as a failure. You are gonna do just fine if you focus on your own happiness.

Pile 3:

Dëserve It by Yeat

I'm Not Sorry by imagine Dragons

Element. by Kendrick Lamar

Three of Earth, Eight of Water, & The Universe

(Clarified by The Fool)

You usin' work and self achievements to cope huh? You're always working so hard to accomplish things, but have you ever took a minute to realize that you are already accomplished even if you don't succeed? (Clarifying song: No L's by Smino) Why do you always need to win? What's so bad about losing? Loss can be scary, but it can teach us valuable lessons in life as well. You fear of being seen unsuccessful, a failure. You don't want to be the gossip in your town, at your job, or family functions. Everything you do, you just work and work. You not addressing the problems in your life. What are you working for? You have money, you have trophies, you have awards, you have a long list of achievements, you have your own place, but that is not healing you. Your valuables are just things. They are not fulfilling you emotionally or mentally. For some of you, you need to stop being a doormat just for the sake of a paycheck or being provided for. This could be someone at your job, school, etc, who is stressing you. Your shadow self wants to tell you to not let anyone make you act out of character but it also gives you permission to put a bitch in check and in their place if needed to. Start setting boundaries. You need to start treating yourself with love and care as if you were a baby. You deserve to be taken care of. Nurture your soul. Nurture your heart. Nurture your mind. If you're not protecting yourself then what is the point? Don't fall into the system of being a worker bee or give into hustling and grinding culture, to the point it's gonna harm your health.

Pile 4:

UNFUCKWITTABLE by Stunna Girl

Team by Iggy Azalea

Player by Tinashe

Ace of Water, Mother of Water, & Eight of Earth

(Clarified by The Star)

Okay so I had to reshuffle for this pile because I didn't take a picture of the first cards I got so I had to redo this, so this is the last spread I finished out of all the other piles. What's interesting is that since it's getting dark I had to turn on my led mirror and use it as a lamp. It was illuminating a light onto The Star card, which I find interesting. A wish fulfillment is on its way. You guys could be manifesting something or reciting affirmations in the mirror. In the song, Stunna Girl keeps saying "I'm a stunner girl" repeatedly, stunner means to be "a strikingly beautiful or impressive person or thing". Stunna Girl has also went viral and become more popular after appearing on the show "Baddies West". You could be growing into your confidence soon and learning to love yourself unconditionally and unapologetically. You could even become more popular or go viral on social media. For some of you, you are healing generational trauma for your female ancestors. They are so proud of you! Or you could come from a family with a lot of powerful, strong, independent women. In a patriarchal society, a woman who is outspoken, knows her worth, and is self assured, is looked down upon because they are less easy to humble and manipulate. Insecure men could paint you as a "bitch" or that you look "mid", to try to humble you when that is just lies. You need to know that you're a bad bitch and that you deserve the best. Your shadow self wants you to stand tf UP! Stop giving a fuck about what other people want you to do or think of you. Make them uncomfortable with your glow up. The women in your family worked and yourself as well have worked too god damn hard for you to sit on your ass and wallow in your tears. You are smart enough, you are strong enough, you are pretty enough, you are ENOUGH. Straighten up your spine and fix your posture. Walk into the room as if you own it. I don't care if you just rolled out of bed with a pair of stained sweatpants and dirty Chuck Taylor's on, you better rock it as if it's designer. Your shadow self will back hand your ass harder than Maddy slapped Cassie from Euphoria if you keep getting in your head and overthinking about shit that's not even that serious. Also, you can have anybody you want, if somebody is stressing you out - Drop their ass and move on. You deserve to be treated like royalty. Stop settling for dust! For some of you, this message could be specific, but your mother is very proud of you or you will be set free from a mother wound. You need to read a book (48 Laws of Power and The Art of Seduction for example) or head to the books if you are a student. Also in your love life, you will not be getting played anymore, but you will be the player (not talking about breaking people's hearts or cheating, calm down Karen 😮‍💨). You will stop chasing love interests and they will be chasing you. Secure attachment for the win 💪🏽. (Clarifying song: Eat It Up by Kaliii ft. BIA). Eat this shit up, pile 4. All this is yours. You are gonna be living your best life soon. NSFW message but some of you will also feel more pleasure in your sex life and will feel more confident about demanding what you want in the bedroom. People will live to please you. There is a lot of fertility here, so be careful if you are able to get pregnant.

Pile 5:

For The Record by Sophiya

Up All Night by Drake ft. Nicki Minaj

Energy by Beyoncé ft. BEAM

Father of Fire, Four of Air (reversed), & Nine of Water (reversed)

(Clarified by Seven of Fire)

You have a lot of passion, pile 5, but you seem to get burnt out easily when it comes to trying to achieve your desires. There is a goal that you are reaching towards that you so desperately wish to achieve to the point its keeping you up at night and causing you to feel restless. Some of you could smoke, you need to cut that down or quit all togerher because it is making your nerves really bad or making you even more anxious (could cause you to age physically faster as well). Some of you could have been ghosted by someone you fell in love with pretty quickly. Possible love bombing? There is a lot of highs and lows in this relationship. Is this a friends with benefits situation? You could have a crush on someone but you are too afraid to state your feelings, so you use your sex appeal to keep them around. You need to voice what you are wanting out of this relationship because this flame will only last so long if you keep going this way. (Clarifying song: My Strange Addiction by Billie Ellish) there is so much about "fire", "lighters", "matches", "fuses", and "smoke" being mentioned in this pile. Are you guys pyromaniacs 😂? I would hope not, if you are please seek help for that lol. If not, you guys could be drawn to the "fire" as in things that intentionally just burn you in the end. It's almost as if you get off to this toxic behavior but then when it ends, you act unstable. You need to find the courage to stop engaging in behaviors that are bad for your mental, emotional, or physical health. Also be brave when expressing your needs in a relationship, if they agree then maybe you can work it out, if not, then it's time to leave. Some of you also could have an anxious attachment or have a fear of abandonment due to a absent father. You need to do shadow work or talk with a therapist to heal that. Learn to find emotional fulfillment and security within yourself.

Pile 6:

Skinnydipped by Banks

Don't Recall by KARD

Sober by Mahalia

Are you overcoming an addiction, Pile 6? Or wanting to go sober? Either way, I commend you for the strength in wanting to do so, since I know that isn't easy. This could also mean your shadow self wants you to quit doing drugs or drinking alcohol because it is making you act manic. I feel like you were treated harshly growing up or you were left with the "vultures". You could have been neglected growing up and had to learn to survive. You could of used maldaptive daydreaming to cope. Your fantasies gave you comfort in a time of stress and turmoil. I'm so sorry for that, pile 6, but you have to understand you no one is out to get to you. You can choose a new story for yourself. You dont have to be a victim anymore. You are free to start a new life for yourself. Some of you came from abusive households or were put in the system at a young age (either you were adopted or was in foster care). You could have lived in multiple places or went from house to house as a child. Did you run away as a kid? Why were you running, sweetheart? You can stop running now, take a new route. Just peacefully go towards your new journey. There is no need to rush. (Clarifying song by Come Down by Anderson .Paak & They Reminisce Over You (T.R.O.Y) by Pete Rock & C.L Smooth) October is significant for some of you. There is going to be growth and prosperity in your life. You need to take time to nurture yourself and practice some self care. I heard "sprout" so you need to look inwards and have a conversation with your inner child. Can you remember your childhood? Do your memories seem blurry or you can't recall anything that happened? Be kind to yourself and be patient. I know it can seem nerve wracking at first but overtime you will be grateful you did it. Think of your younger self as this seed, if no one watered the plant, gave it sunlight or natural light, or fed it with fertilizer, then you can be the first to make that seed grow. Tend to your garden. This will help you build character and gain optimism. You will start to think "Hey, you know what? Maybe life isn't so bad. Maybe I can be a somebody!" And you will :) ♡ You could also be feeling very nostalgic or reminisce your youth. People could also see your growth and remember as a kid, they are going to be surprised how successful you've become to overcome your hardships. Also try to seek the professional help of a therapist or counselor if you try to unpack childhood trauma, or if you can't remember your past, it can be a sign your brain is possibly blocking you out from remembering something traumatic. Be safe and take care, pile 6 🙏🏽

Pile 7:

Run by SAAY

Monster by EXO

Just A Girl by No Doubt

Nine of Fire, Five of Air, & The Empress (reversed).

(Clarifidd by Son of Water)

Oh my 😃! Wow pile 7, do you hold a grudge against the entire male population or a masculine in mind, it seems? You are acting mad bitter. I feel you have the tendecy to be a misandrist out of the trauma from your past. You feel angry that men can get away with their wrong doings while women are forced to suffer. Ironically, you are still attracted to them. You could be struggling with your divine feminine energy. You are also resenting what it means to be a "feminine". You wish to create this on your own terms. Are you apart of the LGBTQ? or consider yourself a feminist? Maybe even both? If you are someone who is a man or identifies with masculine energy, it could mean you behave feminine in a negative way (as in you "nag" or are too "sensitive"). This also reminds me of Jules in season 2 of Euphoria when she cut her hair, started wearing black, and began to feel comfortable in her androgynous style. Some of you guys are really mixed up emotionally and mentally. Like no offense, I take that back, your shadow self wants to say "full offense" - you are acting crazy. Slow down, take a deep breath, and let it go. You are valid in your pain and your emotions, but you cannot let this world make you bitter. You can't inflict pain onto other people just because you were hurt. You are not a monster, you are not the person who hurt you. Do better and be better than them. (Clarifying song: Close Your Eyes by Kim Petras & The Hills (remix) by The Weeknd ft. Nicki Minaj) I am being reminded of the scene from Doja Cat's Streets music video when she was like this spider crawling on it's web, catching their "prey" (the love interest). You are like a black widow. Beautiful to admire from afar, but dangerous to interact with up close. There is someone who is head over heels for you. You could like this person or are pushing them away out of fear. You could be the type of person who warns people before they fall in love with you (Watch the movie "It's A Thin Line Beyween Love & Hate"). You could have even sworn to never love again (Your shadow self: "bffr" 💀). You need to harness this hatred, anger, and darkness for a better cause. Use your pain as a passion to transform yourself and become someone magnificent. Like a spider, you are resourceful. Use your sources and use your intelligence to begin this new transformation. You're lashing out of fear. You're pushing people away because of your trauma. You deserve to be treated tenderly, you're not some scary creature. You are actually so empathetic, intuitive, creative, sensual, and enticing. A mystery that people want to unravel. You are a going to be a femme fatale in it's purest form.

Pile 8:

By Any Means by Jorja Smith

Feelings by Tinashe

Human by Sevdaliza

Five of Fire, Nine of Air, & The Moon

(Clarified by The Hierophant)

Pile 8, why are you ripping yourself apart to fit into society's pressures and demands? When will you realize that you are beautiful in your own way? I remember when Kendrick Lamar said: "If a flower bloomed in a dark room would you trust it?". Not every flower grows in the sunlight or the spring or the summer. Some grow during the harsh, cold weather of the winters or when everything falls in autumn. You are in competition with no one but yourself and you are not going to win this game if you treat yourself like shit. If you wanna be a winner, then you need to start acting like one vs acting like a sore loser. When things go wrong, you are so unnecessarily rude and hard on yourself. Why is that? Ask yourself these things next time you catch yourself thinking that way. You're not anything of the mean things you say about yourself or what people have said to you. You struggle with your insecurities and cling to what gives you comfort even though you know you want better than this, you want better than what you are currently doing. Why do you stick to the same routine everyday even though you know you want change? Sometimes you have to be uncomfortable so you can be comfortable. You may compare your beauty to other people but you need to realize no one is perfect. You are human, as the song goes. A human with "flaws, veins, scars". Embrace your imperfections. You don't want to look back at your past and regret you never took action on anything because you weren't "pretty" enough. Look past your appearance and look inside. (Life Goes On by BTS) What are you are clinging to, pile 8? Are you holding onto something? You're holding sanding at this point and it's slipping through your fingers, you are stuck in this hour glass, wishing to be released. Time keeps ticking and life passes you by. Break free from the perceptions of time and start living your life to the fullest without limitations, doubts, and fears. Life has its up and downs but you have to learn to find hope in dark times. Seek help from your shadow self or the universe when you are in need of faith. Trust the divine that things will always work out for you, no matter what.

Pile 9:

Let It Out by Rico Nasty

UCKERS by Shygirl

Ghetto Gatsby by Brent Faiyaz ft. Alicia Keys

Two of Love, Three of Air, & Eight of Water

(Clairifed by Ace of Air)

Time to end it with a bang 🤬🥊💥! Did you just go through a break up, pile 9? Whether it was with a friend or partner. You are internalizing a lot that happened from this relationship, honestly, you interalize everything. Your shadow self wants you to let out whatever you're feeling. Scream, shout, yell, etc. It is time to stop turning the other cheek and speak up. You also need to confront something or someone who hurt you. (Clarifying song: Fingers by Zayn & Roman's Revenge by Nicki Minaj ft. Eminem) Ugh this person is so LAMEEE 😒🙄 Once you finally get over this connection, they will want to come back and talk to you about what happened. You or this person could have been writing text messages but never sending them. This conversation will be your chance to gain clarity and communicate about how you felt in your relationship. This will help you move on and also allow you to learn to stand up for yourself.

#pac #pick a card #tarot #tarot readings #tarot reading #pick a pile #shadow work #shadow self #higher self #spirituality #healing #witchcraft #astrology #manifestation #manifest #wicca #18+ readings #18+ pac

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blueteller · 1 month

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Hello, Blueteller-nim! I just want to ask what's happening rn in tcf part 2? Who are the new gods that have been introduced (and how many of those newly introduced gods became Cale's enemies)? How many hunters Cale already defeated (and how many more should he defeat)? Is there any news about the Fake Hilsman? Did Cale adopted a new kid? (Pls say yes I want him to adopt more lol)

Hi! I believe this exact question was sent to me before? Sorry it took me so long to reply! Every time I started writing, new lore got dropped and I ended up re-writing this reply from scratch. There's a lot to cover, so brace yourself for tons of SPOILERS

I made a post about TCF gods once already, but turns out, parts of it are outdated! Some new information got revealed that directly contradicts my old assumptions about several of them. But we'll get to it.

First of all, the Hunter families. The plot of Part 2 so far consists of Cale going to different dimensions to deal with them.

So there were originally seven, but by current time there were only five left to deal with. Let's quickly run by each of them one by one.

Black Bloods; residents of the planet Xiaolen – specifically Xiaolen 1 – named Huayans (Fayence in the first raw translations, just in case you've seen that version before), led by Redok. They were human Black Mages who specialized in "White Magic", meaning their variant of Black Magic was more powerful and it looked white. Pretty neat. They flooded Xiaolen with dead mana in order to sacrifice the world and gather its energy called "Karma". Still little detail on how Karma works exactly, but we know it can be gathered by either killing or saving tons of people – guess which method the Hunters use. Cale got a dramatic fire power boost because of some universal balance rules, and defeated them pretty easily. (Xiaolen citizens made Cale a statue in his honor, much to his despair lol)

Blue Bloods; residents of Central Plains, a pretty young world from what we know. They were known as the Blood Cult, lead by a female leader called Blood Demon. They created hundreds of thousands of zombies called Jiangshi and planned to cause a 3-way civil war in order to do the same thing Black Bloods were trying to do. Cale got a water power upgrade because of a dead Dragon and defeated a tsunami with a tsunami and got a splitting headache because of some third eye mumbo jumbo – long story. They were a little harder to defeat than Black Bloods, but they managed in the end. Choi Han got to personally slay the Blood Demon. (Central Plains citizens turned Cale into a folk story/legend and apparently there's already a cult for him hahaha)

Purple Bloods; resident of Aipotu – who consists entirely of Dragons and Dragon-bloods, led by Dragon Lord Neo (yes I'm pretty sure the name is a Matrix reference – love the irony of it so much). Purple Blood's specialty was getting to "inheriting" Dragon powers via some very questionable blood transfusions and heart transplants. Nasty stuff. Neo's Attribute was time, or something quite similar to it, and he used his time powers to mess up Aipotu and the World Tree, intending to transfer himself and all his followers/slaves into a Virtual Reality the Hunters planned to make their own new world. Cale had to use Instant to defeat Neo, turning his own broken plate into dust and eating it to survive (VERY questionable method, Cale!!). Dragon Half-Blood also had to sacrifice himself so Cale set him up as an NPC in the Virtual World and he gets to be reborn from an egg as a legit Half-Dragon named Eden Miru. These has been the most recent events in the story (also Aipotu residents built Cale a church under Clopeh and named it Five Colored Light religion HAHAHAHA). Speaking of Virtual Reality…

Transparent Bloods; residents of Earth 3 – the world where Anh Roh Man lives, the guy who made Alberu's Taerang; leader unknown so far. Apparently ARM's parents are the one who made the Virtual Reality, and the Hunters bought/stole it (and named it "Raising My Very Own Precious Omnipotent God!"??? Which is just hilarious…) So the game wasn't originally designed by them. That matters a lot, because it seems like not only VR is sentient like every other world so far, it has even created an AI specifically against the Hunters and their influence. It seems that VR is, in fact, a real world, capable of containing real people and their souls. So Cale will definitely be heading there next to save it from Transparent Bloods. But before we get to them…

Five-Colored Bloods; no apparent residence, but I have a suspicion… We found out very recently their leader is called the "Wanderer King". Which just screams to me of the whole "Mercenary King" invented by the White Star – the exact same brand of arrogance, really. Their specialty seems to be collecting and transferring power; that's how Dragon Lord Neo was able to get so much power to influence an entire world and the World Tree. They will be a pain to deal with, because they seem to be allied both with certain gods and demons. Which is why, btw, in the most recent chapters Cale went to the freaking Demon Realm. But more on that in a bit~!

White Bloods; all we know about them is from Choi Jung Gun in Sealed God's Temple Test of Sloth. To directly quote him, "The White Blood family betrayed the Hunters and escaped!" (chapter 730) – which I actually mixed up in the past, my bad; I thought it was the Red Blood family that betrayed them and escaped. Speaking of which:

Red Bloods; also known as Thames, last known member being Jour Thames (or is it Drew Thames in the EAP translation? Whatever, I prefer Jour…) and the "Fake Hilsman" who stole Cale's retirement fund. Judging from Jour mentioning her brother when Cale got the Annual Rings of Life Ancient Power, I think it's safe to assume it's that guy. CJG said to Cale that " The Red Blood family perished a long time ago", but he also said that "The Red Blood did not perish", so I think they also betrayed the Hunters and faked their death.

If you're still with me after ALL of that exposition, let me now actually address the actual question: the gods involved in the plot of in Part 2.

There are 5 gods we must talk about, and why I need the Hunter families context first will become clear in a moment.

God of Balance; apparently female, wears heels, and approaches people from behind for intimidation. I'd call her the "gentle in disposition yet extremely scary" grandma type. Basically forcefully summoned Cale to meet her after defeating the Blue Bloods on Central Plains (Cale did not see her face) and told/threatened Cale that he should become a god. One of the "Five Ancient Gods", which seem to be one of the if not THE oldest Gods around who did not retire yet for some reason. Seems like a real piece of work, though doesn't seem evil? More like a strict law enforced or corrupt politician. She did beat up the God of Death over giving Cale the dimension-transporting mirror Divine Item that one time. She also wrote a rulebook on universal balance, apparently. That's why most of Cales powers were sealed and weakened during the Central Plains arc.

God of Hope; I don't believe their gender was ever specified. I think some people assume she's female too, but I found no evidence for it so far? I might be wrong. Anyway – thanks to them visiting Cale to "scare away" the God of Balance, we got tons of info. The God of Hope said: "Including Balance, Chaos, and I, there are a total of five Ancient Gods. We have continued to protect these seats without ever handing it over to another existence. My my, we are all quite greedy. We all desire power as well." So the five Ancient Gods seem to be Balance, Chaos, Hope, and I think the last two are Fate and Blue Wolf? [EDIT: The last two were revealed to be Justice and Injustice in the most recent chapter. My mistake!] Anyway – the God of Hope is sometimes stronger than Balance and that pisses her off. They seem to be one of the most reasonable gods we've met so far, not only admitting that they did not wish to become a god at all but were forced to, but also sincerely cheering on Cale's dream, explaining that Balance wanted Cale to replace Hope and be her lackey. No thanks, Balance, that's never gonna happen. …I mean Cale might still end up a god, with how things are going, but. Definitely not working for Balance.

Blue Wolf; I'm also unsure if the gender ever got specified, though I got the impression that they're probably male so far? In any case, they showed up during the battle on Aipotu. One of the evil Hunter Dragons tried to summon them with a corrupt Divine Item and Lock ended up swallowing a blue flame (yes it was exactly as weird as it sounds). They seem to be the reason why Beast People are able to control their Berserk Transformations at all? Which is quite interesting. Little to no depth on this god's character so far, though, except for apparently liking Lock and making him a successor of some kind.

God of Chaos; we found out a couple of things about them so far in the Aipotu arc. One, their followers are complete freaks; like, Shou Tucker from Fullmetal Alchemist level of messed up. Their followers experiment on people AND themselves, like re-sewing limbs and creating chimeras (which explains lots of Hunter experiments honestly). Two, their representatives are able to use some weird similar-to-Dominating-Aura power which involves creepy Eldritch Horror Eyes? And Cale's gonna try and replicate that with the Donating Aura himself?? Well okay then…? Three, that god's power seems to be characterized by grey color (Dragon Lord Neo intended to use grey stuff to kill Aipotu with. Also worth mentioning; Choi Jung Gun apparently got poisoned by it, so now he's unconscious, slowly turning gray and dying. We'll see if Cale finds a way to save him.) Which – plot twist!! Actually came up in Part 1!! Looks like Sky Eating Water herself was subdued by that very god's power?! Together with God of War, no less, which brings us to the final god on the list…

God of War; turns out they're a double agent, if not a triple agent!! It's quite difficult to figure out what their deal is. Before, I kinda assumed they had to have some good intentions, because they helped created shelters and Cotton was their Holy Maiden and stuff. But nope. God of War is either working FOR or WITH the Hunters, although I'm inclined to think the latter. There seems to be something going behind the scenes, some personal agenda we don't know of yet? We know from Part 1 that God of War gave the people of the north a river, which the Sekka family hoarded selfishly for themselves, turning it into a lake. The God of War emptied the lake in retribution and sent a Divine Item that was a watering can full of fury. However – despite apparently all that good stuff and "breaking the slave chains" from Sky Eater Water, they also forced her to work for them as a Judge, which she hated so much she ran off. We now found out in Part 2 that God of War must have wanted to control Sky Eating Water, because she was so powerful she probably could have defeated the Ancient White Star by herself!! So, God of War teamed up with God of Chaos and chained her down in the lake in the Eastern Continent where Cale eventually got the Ancient Power from. A tragic end for her, but shows how merciless God of War was for his very own chosen one, in the end. God of War was also involved in giving Neo the knowledge on how to control Aipotu's power and the World Tree. There seems to be a lot more going on with the God of War we EVER knew, and the fact that the grey color has been set up back when Cale got Sky Eating water is straight up thrilling for me. I can't wait to find out more!!

So we finally covered all the Hunters and all the gods so far – goodness I'm sorry there's so much, but in my defense, that's about 300 chapters of context for it.

I roughly covered what happened so far through the two lists, but I'll add a few more things:

Cale defeated 3 out of 5 Hunter families so far: Black, Blue and Purple (like beating someone up and leaving colored bruises lol), with Transparent and Five Colors left. Also the ever-mysterious Hunter Leader called "The King's Successor", no idea if that's the Wanderer King or not, but I kind of doubt it. We'll see… (I also totally hope Cale kicks the a** of the God of Chaos, because they're a creep and deserve to burn in hell)

There seems to be another faction aside from Hunters & their supporters, or anti-Hunter gods like God of Death and non-affiliated people – there's a group called "Arbitrators" (raw translation, EAP did not get so far yet), which include Demons?? We don't know what their exact deal is yet, they seem to be about specific Divine/Demonic politics maybe? And Cotton is one of them because she turned her back on God of War?? And now Cale is in the Demon Realm, meeting a middle-aged demon princess named Aurora (whose father got dethroned and another guy took his place so Cale's probably gonna dethrone yet another monarch soon), and it turns out that the Arbitrators are totally BROKE, which kinda explains why Fake Hilsman stole Cale's money if he's one of them… Now Cale is scared because they want him to sponsor them HAHAHA – Alberu is gonna love the irony

No Cale did not officially adopt more kids sadly, but there's been some adorable kid characters showing up, and there's DEFINITELY a ton of new loyal Caleism followers – much to Cale's despair, as they're starting to worship him across dimensions… And with the Virtual Reality apparently being able to connect worlds, it's only the matter of time before Cale's slacker life is utterly screwed by multi-dimensional religion starring him as their Lord and Savior LOL

…So anyway, I hope it's what you've been asking for? Thank for reading this freakishly long post about my rambling on Part 2!

#tcf #trash of the count's family #lcf #lout of count's family #q&a #replies #tcf spoilers #tcf part 2 #tcf meta #tcf hunters #tcf gods #tcf worlds

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delightfultheoristfox · 28 days

Text

In your eyes I saw a longing, while I longed to lift you up

John 'Soap' MacTavish x Reader

Again, crossposting this from AO3.

I'm currently dedicating time to my master's thesis, my English is so clinical and soulless I can only offer things written when life had meaning LMAO Uni's been sucking the will to live out of me with a little straw

The title is long as hell, I apologize (but it's from AURORA's "Conflict of the mind" so it's all good, because we all love Aurora).

18+

CW: smut, tiny angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship, deals with medical topics, recovery from injury, mention of depression and struggles related to recovery, cuddles. LOTS OF CUDDLES.

Masterlist 🦊 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬

Not Johnny.

One hundred and eighty-four days.

One hundred and eighty-four days since Johnny got a bullet in his head. Six months since you saw him flatten against concrete. No lights if not those of the torch tucked in your tac vest.

One hundred and eighty-four days since your own heart stopped beating. More than four thousand hours since the moment you snarled – bellowed. Voice raucous and loud echoing in the tunnel. Raw fire burning your tongue all the way to your fingertips; those that curled around the trigger of your gun.

Makarov on the floor with a hole in his forehead. Mouth-gaped, exhaling his last breaths, mouthing like a fish out of water. Cross-eyed. His lids fluttered, shaking. Pathetic.

Not Johnny.

One hundred and eighty-four days since you pulled the trigger again. And again. And again. And again. To his chest. To his face. To his legs, groin, shoulder.

Since Price hastily got up from where he’d been thrown and grabbed you from behind. Burly arms around your waist lifting you off the ground. Your gun still shooting, bullets now hitting the cinderblock of the walls. The trigger clicked empty, but you still pressed it – autopilot.

The roar that echoed scratched your throat, made you choke. You spluttered and coughed. Tears and spit, foaming at the mouth. A rabid dog.

Not Johnny.

More gunshots echoed, but they didn’t come from your weapon. Price dropped you, your knees knocked against the floor. Helpless, you folded. You draped your body over Johnny’s. Forehead to his chest, arms limp next to his face – fingers grabbing at his cheeks, enough to indent the skin. Blindly skimming through his features, feeling the slick blood carve its path through the tiny folds in your fingerprints.

Senses dull. Not Johnny.

Cotton in your ears. Each explosion from the guns was nothing more than a muffled thud. Bullets flew past you. Bullets hit you. You felt the familiar blinding pain of mangled flesh in your left arm. It caused your body to flop further – a ragdoll. It burned, yet it was nothing compared to the agony currently disemboweling you.

You were gutted. Much like a knife piercing flesh. Cutting its way through layers of skin, muscle, and fat. Intestines pouring out, blood and water and bile mixing on the floor – cocktail of death. Not yours. Johnny's.

Not Johnny.

He heard. His chest rose under the weight of your head, and life was breathed into you again.

───────────

It was absolutely mind-boggling to you how he’d survived. You saw it; you saw Makarov pull the trigger. You saw the bullet pierce his skull. You saw him crumple on the cement in that underground tunnel. You felt the blood on your hands. You felt how slick it made his skin.

But apparently, it wasn't enough to snatch the life out of him.

And as you spent the following days sleeping uncomfortably, curled on one of the chairs in the waiting room of the army hospital, doctors came and went to talk to Price.

Or to Johnny’s ma.

She’d flown all the way from Glasgow to Hereford in the blink of an eye, bringing with her a goddamn squadronof MacTavishes. Four sisters with his blue eyes, and his dark hair. All of varying ages. Even a little one, half of yours. Her long hair was in a plait that swung behind her back. You watched it – transfixed. Too catatonic and dazed to care that you might have looked like a right weirdo – staring at a kid like that.

But she was the one who looked like him the most. Maybe it was in the tilt of her chin. In the shape of her eyes. In the slight fold of the tips of her ears – God, you weren’t looking like one, you were a proper weirdo.

Her braid swung like a pendulum, marking the time you spent apart from him.

A guarded prognosis meant that no one aside from close relatives could enter the room. Family only - and the leader of Johnny’s unit. So, you spent your days of medical leave with your ass on those plastic chairs that were made for short sitting sessions, looking at a platoon of women going in with flowers and chocolates and leaving with tears and bloodied gauzes.

Your arm was wrapped in a bandage of its own, the muscle torn at the bicep. The pain was dull, much like the goddamn sight of you. Or the smell, which you reckoned mustn’t have been the most pleasant whiff to catch with one’s nostrils.

Price took pity on you because he knew. He acted like he didn’t for the sake of his team, but he knew. And he conveyed his awareness with lingering, judgmental glances he gave you and Johnny when the Scot let his hand travel a little too low on your back.

You watched them all from afar, perking your ears to catch any news the doctors told Johnny’s family or your Captain. Clawing at the walls for some information. You’d give your right kidney to know something more aside from the sparse words Price told you out of sympathy.

And then, out of nowhere, after tortuously long days spent with stomach and heart utterly empty, a nurse came to you.

She tapped your shoulder and you flinched. Bloodshot eyes swiveled to land on her face. She looked down at you apprehensively, knowing she’d have to tread lightly. A cornered animal, you were. Pitiful thing.

She called your name, and you blinked.

“The lady there said you’ve been here a while,” she spoke oddly soft and yet respectful. Must’ve spotted the pips on the epaulets of your uniform jacket, the one currently draped over you like a blanket.

Your eyes were unfocused and blinky. Lashes fluttering to swipe away the fatigue – a broom against dust. Looking around made your neck tingle, muscles corded, but you did. Your pupils locked with bright blue ones at the other end of the hallway.

Johnny’s ma waved.

Your brain rewired itself from its slumber and you sat upright. Your shoulders popped as you pulled them back at attention. Legs uncurled from where they were tucked underneath your weight, finally stretching out. Palms to your knees. Your jacket fell to the floor, you didn’t mind it.

“She wants to know if she can talk to you,” the nurse prompted.

You nodded eagerly, probably looking a little too desperate. Your leg bounced in anticipation and anxiety, tiny needles piercing the muscle as it awakened.

Gingerly, his mum walked to you. She sat right in the chair at your side. It took nothing but a look for her to understand: the crust in your lashes from the tears you’ve shed, the bandage around your arm gone from white to yellow with a splotch of brown in the middle. Dried blood and pus. The wound festering beneath it.

She hugged you. She didn’t care if you hadn’t washed in days. If your injury was probably infected, or at least smelled as such. You curled your fingers into fists against her back, and you cried.

She did, too.

𓇬

You understood that Johnny took his fire straight from his ma because she was currently bullying the doctor who had been preventing your entrance into her son’s room.

You stood almost embarrassed next to her, feeling like her child yourself.

She had forced you to wash, after all. Took you to one of the washrooms and helped you out of your clothes. Stroked your skin with a sponge when she noticed the weakness of your movements. Washed away the suds with the showerhead. Dried your hair and braided it.

You’d have felt pathetic if she weren’t there, constantly telling you it was alright. You'd have felt guilty that you became an additional burden to her if she weren't continuously whispering that “whoever loves my Johnny like you do, ‘s mine to care for.”

You took a few steps back the more she argued with the doctor, trying to flee from that predicament. Maybe you’d be lucky enough to peer through the cracked door and spot Johnny’s face now that both surgeon and nurse were busy trying to tame (fruitlessly, they’d learn) Mrs. MacTavish.

However, your back hit something. You lifted your arms, elbows out to create more space around you.

You looked behind and clocked a girl, and her braid. She was slightly shorter than you, about fifteen. The resemblance with her brother was so striking it caused your breath to hitch.

She looked at you with caution. Assessed you like antiques at an auction. Whether you were worthy of her brother’s affection, or not. And you found yourself thinking you’ve never wanted someone’s approval more than you did at that moment.

It was a game of stares that she was clearly winning.

Comical, really. How your skin had bled because of bullets tearing it apart. Knives had ripped crimson gashes on your flesh. Bombs had gone off in your vicinity. You’ve killed. You’ve seen death and brought it, too – a harbinger.

Yet now you stood stock still in front of a teenager. Eyes locked with the depth of the azure sea hers bore. Frozen in place with your elbows still out and your hands hovering between you two.

It was silent for what felt like hours when in truth only mere, tense minutes had passed. The only sound that of Johnny’s ma giving an earful to the doctor and a very tired nurse.

Your lips parted on their own accord then, and your voice came out wet and strained. “You’re so much like him.”

That girl had tried to crack open your skull with the sheer force of her eyes and somehow managed. Then snuck her fingers in the hollow of your stomach and curled them around the handles of your ribs only to rip them open and take a gander at the battered thing that was your heart.

What she said next made your chest clench to the point of pain. Your heart stomped against the hard bone of your rib cage. Her voice was heavily accented yet softer than her brother's. The meaning behind her words was different from the ones you uttered. They went deeper than mere physical appearance.

The thought that she might have seen something in you that even remotely reminded her of him made your heart ache - feeling undeserving of it.

“You are, too.”

───────────

One hundred and eighty-four days since the incident, you could’ve gotten a goddamn medical degree. You took a long compassionate leave to stay by his side, hastily apologizing to doctors and PTs alike for his behavior because during that time, when they’d show up at your doorstep, he’d bark like a dog for them to leave.

For one-hundred and eighty-four days, the moment he fell asleep, you’d bury your head in medical manuals and books. You had his physical therapist explain to you step by step all the exercises he’d have to do for his limbs, so he’d regain strength and mobility.

The massages. The oils. The meds. How to put an IV in. How to change the bandages of his bedsores. You helped him shower. You helped him dress. You did his beard or his hair, and while he pushed for it to be a bland buzzcut or just let it grow, you always let the airstrip at the center stay – gelling it up sometimes, for good fun.

When you’d place a kiss against his buzzed side, next to the healing scar, he’d find himself giving in more and more. His back would soften against your chest, fingers curling at your forearms wrapped around his front.

By the one hundred and eighty-fourth day since the incident, Johnny still barked like a dog at whoever dared to walk in his flat that wasn’t you or a member of his family. But at least now the rest of the lads had their privileges.

At least now he let you sleep on your side of the bed – sometimes daring to curl his arm around your waist so you’d scoot over to his.

At least now he kissed you again and brushed his fingers along your cheek, or through your hair.

His strength came back at a languid pace, but his hands didn’t tremble anymore when he held a fork, so now he could eat by himself. He could lift small weights, but still couldn’t sit up on his own. That was the next achievement you both were aiming at.

His personality now shone through the fractures of the shell he'd locked himself into. The cheeky grin slowly came back like molten gold mending the fissures. That glint in his eyes - a reminder that he was alive.

You already knew it, but he didn’t – and now, he was on his way to finally realize it.

On the morning of that day, Johnny was lying in bed as you’d just finished helping him wear a pair of grey sweatpants. Your back was to him while you folded clean laundry.

He watched like a hawk each movement you made, no matter how mundane and trivial. Shame and resentment still had a tight grip on his heart, withered his soul, but the sight of you – simply there – was enough to make those feelings hush.

“Can’t believe you bloody stayed.”

You stilled in your motions, and only resumed a moment later, setting down the laundry back in the basket. Then, in your sweats and one of his t-shirts, you moved towards the bed. Sat at the edge. Lingered there for a moment as you took him in.

He was thinner. However, against all medical logic, his muscles were still there. Definitely less bulging, definitely much less defined, but there. Apparently, it takes a lot more to wear down John fucking MacTavish. However, you’d have to give credit where credit is due, and your relentless insistence in forcing him to do all the exercises as the PT instructed you, even when Johnny all but cursed at you, might have helped his muscles keep their tone.

You lay down in bed next to him, propped on your elbow with your cheek in your palm. You placed your free hand over his chest, his strong heartbeat at your fingertips.

"'cause you're too hot to drop, eh?" You quipped.

He tried to keep up with your joking mood, his lips curving into that trademark smirk he used to don so effortlessly. Differently from before, when life seemed to flow smoothly, it was short-lived. And while his heart felt like it was being torn apart, he lifted his arm and slung it around your waist, bringing you close.

You snuggled in his side for good measure. One leg of yours was draped over his two, palm still flat on his chest, and now your head lay there as well. While he’d almost returned to his usual self, these moments in which he allowed you to touch him were always sparse and rare. You’d take your fix whenever you could.

His chest still felt tight at the sight of you huddling against him. “Why do ye love me?”

His voice rumbled in his ribcage, echoing in your ear pressed against his pectorals. It perfectly scratched an itch in the back of your brain, almost giving you gooseflesh.

"Because you're pure dead brilliant.” You replied quietly, drawing shapes over the fabric of his tee, "You make me laugh, you make me happy."

Absently, you smiled – memories of your relationship even before it bloomed into love came running in front of your eyes. He could only see the top of your head, but he felt the way your cheek lifted against the cotton, somewhat scrunching the fabric.

"Can't imagine a life without you, honestly.” You lifted your head from his chest and placed a chaste kiss over it. Your shoulders shrugged, the answer being simple. "You're my Johnny."

As much as your words served as a balm to his wounds, he felt as if you were describing someone else. Attributes he was undeserving of – ones that described the man he might have been once but didn’t feel like anymore.

His hand lightly gripped your hip. All he could do was tilt his head down and plant a kiss on your forehead, letting his lips linger a tad longer. Savoring your skin and the salt of it.

“’m the luckiest man alive,” he mumbled. The press of his mouth against your flesh slurred his words, but you caught them anyway.

Luckiest for real, you mused but didn't voice it. He didn't need a daily reminder of the sheer miracle his survival had been.

Instead, you only relished the touch of the chapped skin of his lips. Your eyes fluttered closed to block out anything else that didn’t involve that tiny, warm feeling.

"My lucky charm,” was all you could muster up to say.

He huffed. The air escaping his nose was warm as it hit the crown of your head. You could tell by the way he tensed that he was hesitant, still mindful when it came to having you close. Insecure, ashamed. But you'd linger there unless he pushed you away – hoping, deep down, he never would again.

In very Johnny’s fashion, he masked his insecurity with a lighthearted joke. “C’mon, inflate my ego a bit more.”

And you did, despite knowing it was all a façade to hide the inner turmoil he’d been brewing constantly ever since. Despite knowing he silently craved your words of reassurance, because maybe, if you repeated them enough, he’d eventually believe them, too.

A chuckle bubbled up your throat. Johnny felt its gentle rumble in his bones, and it stole a smile from him.

“You’re absolutely hilarious – you crack me up,” you continued like he asked, “Sharper wit than mine – which I thoroughly appreciate.”

You leaned your head back, reluctantly pulling your forehead away from his lips, only to be awarded with the blue of his eyes.

“You’re kind and compassionate," you sighed, "You care ‘bout others even when you shouldn’t. That’s noble.”

But then your mouth pursed, because its corners struggled to keep a smile, "You're also absurdly hot, love.”

He scoffed, giving you a look – shallow. But he couldn't deny the way the last comment made his chest puff a little.

It was unbearably hard not to burst out laughing. Difficult to keep the warmth inside, in the face of the familiarity of it all. You cleared your throat, mustering up the most serious expression you could pull at that moment.

“You’re the strongest man I know.”

And just like that, his smile was gone. The dancing flame he lit in your heart, smothered by ice. Johnny, who’d always been the gasoline to your fire, now felt like freezing water.

He shook his head, trying to hide the unease. “My strength is long gone, love.”

And even if your blood was struggling to boil against the ice he instilled, you decide you wouldn’t have that. Not in a thousand years.

Your eyes welled up with tears, as much as you tried to fight it. He sounded so tormented - you craved to take it away from him. Your fingers curled at his jaw, gently. Tilting his head, you forced his eyes to lock with yours – making sure to keep him there, focused on you.

"You, my love," you repeated, voice wavering but filled with resolve, "are the strongest man I've ever met."

Yet your words only fueled the self-hatred. He failed to see the determination in your eyes because the wounds in his brain, both emotional and whatnot, only made him perceive pity.

“I hate this,” he growled. While your fire had been smothered, his only grew. His eyes held defiance and fight, unfortunately against all the wrong things. “I hate this so damn much. I – I struggle to live, darling. I can’t even fucking stand. I’m like a useless sack of sh-”

"None of tha'." You interrupted him. This time, you sounded angry.

Hell, you understood. You were a special forces operator, too. You were in his same team. You fucking got it. The pain, the worthlessness after having been fully independent and, at least on his part, generously strong for most of his adult life.

But you weren't having it.

Your fingers held his face in place, curled at his cheeks. Not too tight, always gentle and mindful of his head injury, but firm enough to indent in the plush of his skin.

"You are Sergeant John – fucking Soap - MacTavish." You stated firmly, and while your eyes were glossy, your voice didn't hesitate this time. "You are a sniper and demolitions specialist. The best out there."

Your pupils sailed the storm in his eyes with unparalleled skill. "You've survived a gunshot to the head. You fought to live, and I swear 'ere and now, John, I'll make fucking sure you will."

Johnny found himself fighting a war he couldn’t win. And while he wasn’t used to it, he realized he didn't mind losing. He had been biting each hand that tried to feed him, to nurse him back to health.

Even yours.

He failed to see, however, that you came back each time – mangled fingers, bite marks and all.

He hated being the reason you cried, even if it was for the sheer amount of feelings that had been brewing all at once, threatening to spill over.

Without warning, he put his hands against the mattress and sat up. And because it wasn’t enough for him apparently, he grabbed awestruck-you by the hips, pulling you on top of him – with no little effort – to straddle his lap. That was the achievement of the week, he thought, and with an exhausted sigh, he flopped with his back against the headboard.

He used to be able to absolutely manhandle you and place you wherever he wanted, once. Now, his chest heaved as a result of barely lifting you an inch. The concept was still hard to grasp for him, but he realized how proud he felt when his eyes landed on yours, when your gasp reached his eardrums.

And he understood, then. He might have thought that he was a useless sack of shit, but you weren’t, and steaming Jesus, he’d do it. For you, he’d take the fucking praise of having lifted a spoon without dropping the stupid golf ball you placed on it. He’d take the kisses you’d pepper his face with each time he’d bend his knee to his chest without your hands helping him fold it.

He’d take that look you were donning right there on his lap, your eyes going from heated to watery. Brows pinched. Mouth-gaped.

He’d take it like a fucking champ, and he’d be proud of it.

"Johnny,” you breathed, steadying yourself with your palms on his shoulder.

The bastard smirked; lips parted as he caught his breath.

He brought his hands up to cup your cheek. His thumb rubbed at your jawline and his fingers threaded through your hair. “How are ye so bloody beautiful, eh?”

You almost melted right then and there.

You huffed. Breathless and shaky. You leaned your cheek against his palm – perfect fit. One could hear the clicking sound it would’ve made as it fell into place.

“Gonna have to cross tha' from our achievements list." You slurred, your words as wobbly as your lips.

He hated your bloody achievements list, but he’d take that one, too.

His voice was raspy. Scratched you in all the right places. “We should put a reward for each one you tick off, mh?”

You blushed.

You did, and you weren't even ashamed of it. How many people could say that their significant other made them flush even after years together? You bet very fucking few.

Because Johnny made your heart stutter like the first time although it had been years you two shared the same bed. Johnny made your chest swell, your cheeks pink, and your panties wet even after he'd seen you naked and bent however he pleased – and he could do that with a very visible craniotomy scar on the side of his head.

You gave him a knowing look, though.

"Just a kiss," you replied, sounding a little too patronizing. Almost as if you were scolding him. "The doc said no sex, Johnny."

Indeed, now he almost looked like a child who just had his favorite new toy snatched away. A feigned pout, his bottom lip jutting out slightly. “Not even a tiny bit?”

He looked utterly gorgeous, even when he acted like this – normally, it would’ve driven you up a wall.

The blue of his irises was now a mere halo around widened, dark pupils. He took a greedy handful of the meaty part of your hip. His other hand journeyed from your jawline to your bum, and he wasn’t parsimonious there either, as he curled his fingers around the plush skin.

"What even is a tiny bit of sex, Johnny?” You huffed. Before he could reply, because you saw that cheek in his eyes, “And for the love of Christ – Don't say just the tip.”

He grinned, caught red-handed.

You fixed him with a blank stare.

And then, you spouted all the knowledge you had acquired during these months while he slept away. You went full medical encyclopedia on him. "Sex increases blood pressure, which might cause weakened blood vessels in your brain to burst, potentially leading to a hemorrhagic stroke. You could -”

Johnny barked a laugh. You ended your lecture by pursing your mouth in a tight line; rolled your lips between your teeth to hide how much the sound of his genuine chuckle had affected your heart.

He absolutely demolished you with a sentence only.

“But I sat up today, sweetheart.”

Your shoulders deflated. Utterly powerless.

He pinched the air between thumb and forefinger in the space between your faces, “Just a glimpse, yeah?”

You scoffed and briefly looked down at the spot where he’d placed you in. All by himself, no help from you whatsoever. You were so fucking proud it made you arrhythmic.

You settled on a glimpse.

Gingerly, you grasped the hem of your (his) tee and pulled it off your head. You tossed it in a vague direction behind you, eyes focused on his. Deft fingers went to unhook your own bra, and you let it fall.

Sitting up on your knees, which gave him a very nice close-up of your breasts (the lad went cross-eyed at the sight), you hooked your fingers at the waistband of your sweatpants. With one motion, you took down both pants and underwear, which pooled at your knees.

You leaned back, sitting on your rear, and pulled them both off your ankles. Much like your sorry t-shirt, they landed somewhere on the bedroom floor.

Planting your feet on each side of his thighs, you kept your knees spread and leaned back on your palms, as if to say There, enjoy.

"Better?"

Johnny’s eyes darkened instantly at the sight before him. You looked wet already for reasons unknown to him. Poor man couldn't grasp the idea that no matter how he looked, he'd always make your heart race and your cunt glisten.

Johnny slowly rubbed the back of his fingers against his lips.

“Better,” you heard him rasp.

You nodded imperceptibly, eyes never leaving his. You raised a hand and drew a map of your body with your finger, tracing a path he’d hopefully follow again, one day.

It started from your mouth, fingertip tugging at your lower lip until it bounced back into place. Then down your chin, down the curve of your throat, traveling in the valley of your breasts.

"You behave, Johnny," you breathed, letting your own hand grab a handful of your breast and squeeze. The fat bulged between the grooves of your fingers.

"Follow PT.” You pulled at your nipple, "Take your meds, do as the doctors say."

Your palm snaked down your belly until it reached your core. You spread your lips for him with your fingers, "And I'll be your first meal after recovery."

Johnny’s eyes followed your hand, hypnotized. He swore his mouth watered and he thought this wasn’t much of a reward as it was torture.

His heart throbbed against his ribs, and his eyes clocked yours once more.

“I’ll behave,” he promised, his voice thick with an unspoken need – and he would.

Johnny decided that he’d take this, too. Fucking hell he would.

Your lips quirked to the side, trying to hide the small smile of delight. The only thing you wanted was for him to get better. Small steps: he had already managed to sit up in bed by himself, so maybe the next step would be to stand up on his own, one day.

Then walk. Then run. Then train at the gym, or take you out for dinner. Fuck you senseless into the mattress. Get on his knees to make a meal out of you. Or get on one knee, holding out a ring.

And by God, if what he needed was a reward – he'd get it. Honestly, if it would help him improve, you'd give it to him every bloody day. You’d bend, break, turn, and fucking dance if he asked. As long as he stayed here, alive.

You were unabashedly wet, so there was barely any friction as you plunged middle and forefinger inside your core. You hissed at the sensation – pleasure and pain. You let out a shuddering breath, eyes closing just briefly.

You should've been embarrassed about the sound your own cunt made when you slid them out, but the way Johnny's eyes widened made you anything but. His hand dropped from his mouth onto his thigh, limp.

Utterly disarmed himself.

Sticky and wet with arousal, you placed your fingers on his lips, gently pushing them inside to rest on his tongue.

"Good man, Johnny," you breathed, your own heart thrumming, "So fucking proud of you.”

Johnny’s chest warmed and his eyes flickered between your own, his tongue automatically coming forward to taste you on your fingers. His cheek hollowed as he sucked, which did absolutely nothing to the already dripping state of you.

You scissored your fingers against his tongue, “Take it.”

His eyes fluttered closed. Sweet and salty, ambrosia on his tastebuds. The tang of you, forever impressed in his mind – a man parched of what he used to drink almost daily and had been denied for months. He thought it had been criminal of you to take it away from him for so long.

And while this totally wasn’t the most appropriate moment to think about it, he realized that you never denied him anything that wasn’t for his own good.

He did it to himself.

Which made him angry. Which prompted his hand to flit up and wrap around your wrist to keep your fingers there, snug in the cavity of his mouth – wishing he could never part from them.

The humming sound of pleasure vibrated through your hand, and you shivered in response. He grunted in a low, husky murmur – words barely muffled by your fingers, “I want my reward, pet.”

Your own eyes were hooded and heavy. He looked perfect, despite that thick scar on the side of his head. Actually, the fact that he was still here, in this plane of existence, with his brain injury - somehow alive, by sheer miracle - made him even more perfect.

You took your fingers out of his mouth. Johnny begrudgingly released them with a pop. He looked flushed and ravenous. It would’ve scared you, the voracity in his eyes, if you weren’t already accustomed to it – known it like your own, same hunger that’d been festering in your lower stomach for months.

You helped him lay back down again, making sure his head would fall softly against the pillow, back flat on the mattress. You stretched out like a cat, settling yourself on your knees between his legs.

Resting your palms against his thighs, feeling the taut muscle underneath, your fingers gently scraped over the fabric of his sweatpants. The obvious tent he sported imperceptibly twitched in reflex.

You grazed the bulge with your nails. Johnny shuddered.

Only then, you curled your fingers at the waistband of his sweats and slowly pulled down, exposing him. His cock bounced back against his abdomen once it unhooked from the elastic of his boxers.

It was your mouth’s turn to water. You’d seen him naked several times in the past one hundred and eighty-four days, but the purposes were very much different. Of course, it wasn’t only him that had to refrain from intimacy. While you could, well, DIY your way to bliss, it clearly wasn’t enough, because your body was reacting dramatically at the mere sight.

Your hand almost darted at the base. Johnny’s hips gave a tiny jerk, and you could hear the lack of sounds coming from him. He was holding his breath, almost in anticipation of what he knew would happen.

Thankfully he’d always been vocal, and when you gave the first stroke, Johnny absolutely melted. Quite literally, you saw him deflate against the pillows as if he were made of wax and your hand was fire. His lips parted in a whine you hadn’t heard in ages. Or maybe never. At all.

You decided you wanted to hear that again. Fucking pronto.

You started slowly, stroking up and down the way you knew he liked. Dragging the skin over the tip, using the honestly baffling amount of precum as lube.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Johnny always looked gorgeous, and during sex, he looked like a god.Made to worship and praise. Now, his eyes were half closed. The narrow space visible was white – he had rolled back his eyes. Lips parted by heavy pants. Brows tight, as if he was concentrating.

Because he was.

“Slow down,” he drawled, seemingly unable to have his mouth follow along with his thoughts. “Fuck, plea-“, he whined, again. That sound you were looking for. Goddamn music that could feel like silk to the touch.

Your thighs squeezed together for some needed friction, and you did as he asked. He exhaled shakily, fully closing his eyes to get a grip. Johnny’s jaw clenched. He gritted his teeth, releasing a sharp breath from his nose.

Slowly, you bent at the waist, shifting a little on your knees. Your face was right next to his length as you held it up by the base, stroking languidly.

Johnny felt your breath hit his shaft and his eyes snapped open. You saw how his chest stuttered, eyelid twitching at the sight. How the indent of your spine drew a curve that tipped at your ass, tilted up. The lashes framing your doe eyes fluttering right next to his cock. Your lips pink, as if they might have caught teeth. The sheen of his precum around your fingers.

Johnny could’ve come right then and there.

To prevent it, he slid his eyes shut again. It was useless, because he felt that plush mouth he loved oh, so dearly, leave a trail of slow kisses from his base up to his angry-red tip. Johnny hissed a string of curses, wringing his eyes closed until his lids wrinkled.

You lingered a little more on his tip with your lips barely grazing it, tasting the salt of him and reveling in the desperation he was showing. Not a bad thing – this wasn’t that kind of torment you hated to see. Indeed, you liked it.

Very much so.

“Johnny,” you whispered, “Look at me, baby.”

Johnny could only oblige; however, he did beg whatever deity up there to give him enough resolve not to cum on your hand. His eyes drifted open and the sight of you, once again, threatened to have him end the moment way too soon.

He gulped. A fruitless endeavor, because his mouth was dry and his throat stuck. He parted his lips to mumble something. Something incoherent and jumbled because his brain was haywire.

Whatever he had to say, however, came out as a choked sound. Your lips parted further and wrapped around his head. Your heavy-lidded gaze locked with his much too wide eyes, and Johnny crumbled once and for all.

“Christ,” was the first sensed word he growled. His head fell back against the pillow, but that made you still.

He moaned again. Not that sound you liked, but more like a lament – why did you stop. Your mouth left his shaft with a sonorous pop. His head lifted and he glowered – how dare you.

“Eyes on me, Johnny.”

His breath hitched, and he thought you couldn’t have looked more beautiful. His eyes softened at the order, and he gave a simple nod, trying not to look as desperate as he felt and failing spectacularly.

You grinned, and he corrected himself: you could look more beautiful.

Whatever devoted thought was about to cross his mind was stopped in its tracks when you ran your tongue along the underside of his cock. Tortuously slow.

You used your hand at the base to slap the head against the flat of your tongue while your other palm rested on his thigh, feeling how he tensed beneath you. Only then, your lips returned around his cock. The muscles in his neck bulged and the tendons tightened, resisting the urge to just flop back once again.

His hips gave yet another tiny jerk, and he bit his bottom lip. "Careful, pet," he warned you, his voice strained against the rock lodged in the back of his throat.

He reached down and grasped at your hair but did not pull, simply just holding on to give you a sense of where his hands were. He wished he could sit up and ram his cock down the back of your throat. He knew you’d take it – fuck, he knew.

But he’d used enough strength to gain the current reward, which was also the other reason why his muscles felt too syrupy to hold him up.

The tight grip on your hair almost made your eyes roll back at the promise of what it could’ve meant. The memories of how good he’d guide your head down his length made your cunt flutter around nothing.

You dived down until his tip reached the back of your throat. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to breathe from your nose.

“God, sweetheart,” he moaned. Didn’t growl, or groan. John fucking MacTavish moaned, and you were unsure whether you liked this more than the gruff sounds you were used to.

You rose up again and then rammed down. Up, and down. Again, and again. And Johnny thought he could’ve cried. His chest heaved and his lungs burned – struggling to keep up with his rapid intake of air. His thighs tensed.

“Just like tha’.” He stuttered, voice cracking at the edges, “Yes, love. Yes.”

It took a lot of him not to collapse right back against the pillow and just enjoy the feeling and the obscene sounds you were making. And while his eyes stayed focused on you because you had commanded so, he also didn’t want to deprive them of the sight that you were.

You knew his tells: breathy voice, taut quadriceps, those tiny jerks of his hips to meet your mouth. Your hand curled at the base to help you out in your endeavor, stroking lightly and twisting as your mouth still worked. Your eyes locked on him, lidded and watery. Tears down your flushed cheeks.

A fucking sight alright, Johnny thought.

With the last spurs of strength left in his body, he selfishly pushed your head down, burying your nose in his curls. He groaned a desperate “Oh, fuck”, lifted his hips to meet you halfway. With a shudder, you felt him empty himself down your throat.

The grip he had on your hair tightened to the point of delicious pain, stinging your scalp. Johnny's legs went stiff under your touch. His cock twitched, buried deep down your throat, as spit and cum bubbled at the corners of your stuffed mouth.

You didn’t fight how your eyes rolled back this time. Struggling to breathe through your nose as you obediently swallowed.

Johnny allowed himself to collapse back against the pillow. Unfocused and dazed. The way his orgasm hit, like a needle puncturing his brain, made him think that maybe you were right and he’d gone and done it – the hemorrhagic stroke, or whatever it was you said.

When you finally pulled back, Johnny looked down at you with hooded eyes. His chest was still rising and falling at an alarming pace. And just when he thought it was over, that the bliss had regrettably ended, you locked eyes with him. His mouth went dry again.

He slowly let the grip on your hair go to allow you some freedom to move. He reached out to touch the side of your face. His thumb skimmed your lower lip, smearing the spit and what was left of him on your cheek.

“You’re beautiful,” he said quietly – more than just a compliment.

You blushed. As if your cheeks could get any redder.

After tucking him back into his pants and sweats, Johnny beckoned your face closer to his. You followed his guidance, only to have him curl his fingers at the nape of your neck to tilt your head, and let his lips meet yours.

He didn’t kiss your hungrily. He savored you, allowing your lips to slot, and your tongues to mold. He tasted himself on you, and you tasted yourself on him.

Johnny tucked you under his arm, guiding you to rest your head on his chest like before.

You looked up at him, a cheeky smile on your lips. Tapped your fingers over his heaving chest.

“Slow breaths,” you instructed, “Keep the blood pressure low, baby.”

He huffed, “Fuck off, darling.”

You laughed and nuzzled against him. Johnny could only chuckle with you – could only think you were a vision. And when your face lifted to prop your chin on his chest so your eyes could meet, when your smile beamed in his direction, he was sure you were one.

"Now will you," you tapped his nose with your finger, "Cooperate a little more?”

Johnny snorted.

His lips curled into a tiny smirk. His cheeks were flushed as well, a sheen of sweat covered his forehead. His eyes were droopy and a little dreamy when he took you in. You looked so beautiful his heart could’ve stopped, and if that was his last sight, he’d die a happy man.

You were proud of him, and for the first time, he was proud of himself, too.

He fell silent and only basked in your glow, reveling in the sunlight you brought. The arm that held you by your waist traveled upwards, and he curled it around your head. His thumb brushed your cheekbone, tangling with some of your hair as well.

And Johnny thought he’d take it. He’d take it any day.

“Get that achievements list,” he whispered, “Wanna cross that shite myself.”

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mal3vol3nt · 5 months

Text

the reason people get mad and upset over aang not killing ozai is because they can’t or are unwilling to understand what it really meant for him to be the last airbender

a lot of people don’t truly acknowledge what aang went through when they talk about him. it was a genocide. an ethnic cleansing. a GENOCIDE. and i think that’s because so many people are just incapable or unwilling to wrap their heads around how tragic and isolating and unchangeable something like that is.

i’ve seen countless people say they wish aang had found other airbenders hiding away somewhere. and while i totally get wanting that to happen for the happiness of the character (hell, even i have thought about how heart wrenching that utter relief would feel for him), i’ve also seen those takes associated with people saying they just find it hard to believe that none of the airbenders survived. that none of them were able to escape.

and that’s the thing that annoys me because genocide is a real fucking thing that has happened and IS currently happening in the world (just look at palestine, congo, sudan). it shouldn’t be so hard for people to suspend their belief into thinking it could happen in a fictional piece of media. this disbelief that a genocide can be real results in people being unable to fully sympathize with a character who is stated several times to be the definite, unchangeable sole survivor of his people’s genocide. and i’m not saying it’s wrong to want there to be airbenders who lived, but in canon it’s clear that none of them did. and the ones who did canonically escape were hunted and lured by the fire nation to their demise. and if we’re going to discuss characters and the intents behind their actions, aang’s character development is heavily, heavily heavily guided by his guilt and grief over his lost culture and people. but a lot of people still can’t wrap their heads around the canonical genocide he survived, meaning they can’t fully comprehend why aang would choose peace over a violent end. and considering atla is a western show with a largely western audience, its even more evident that this gap in people’s ability to understand and sympathize with aang is emphasized by their western intrigue toward violence. people don’t just misunderstand aang’s dilemma—they wanted him to kill ozai because seeing him do that would have been cool and interesting and satisfying.

but aang’s decision to spare ozai’s life was made due to his status as the last airbender. prior to meeting the lion turtle, i think it’s safe to say that he had resigned to what he had to do. that is to say, he was likely going to kill ozai despite the pain that was going to cause him. he was going to give up a part of himself, his humanity and the last remainings of his culture, to be the avatar the world needed. but he was then gifted the ability to energy bend, offering him, but not cementing, another option. aang still had the choice, and we saw in the fight that aang was so very close to killing ozai even with this new ability. but he couldn’t. because although killing ozai would have been a pretty justifiable thing to do, it would have fully finished off the air nomads. aang was the only living human who held onto their beliefs. if he were to push those values aside to end the war, the war would have ended the same way it started: with the death of the air nomads. and it may sound “cheesy” or overly dramatic or whatever to some people, but aang’s entire story arc has, arguably, been him trying to fit in a world that seemingly has no more room for the air nomads. not only is he 100 years in the future, but this future has none of his people around and war is everywhere. violence is basically required to survive. death is everywhere. greed has corrupted nations. everything the air nomads stood against made up this world, and aang, as the avatar, had no choice but to save it. for him to have given in to what everyone expected of him—violence—he would have ultimately eliminated air nomad values from the world. and the world would have not cared. aang’s victory would have been celebrated, but aang would have felt even more grief than before. he would have let himself and his people down. and balance would have never been achieved because the air nomads mattered. they were part of what kept the world going round. no matter how much the current world he was fighting for called for violence and death to achieve an end, the air nomads still had a voice through aang. they were still around because of aang. aang’s existence and dedication and love for his culture kept the genocide from being official.

and in my opinion, air nomadic values coming out victorious in a war that nearly wiped them clean (except for aang) is much more of a meaningful and satisfying ending than violence ending with violence.

and if you wanna call aang’s decision selfish, then fine. but i personally think it’s more selfish to expect a survivor of genocide to keep giving and giving and giving for a war that took his people from him until he has nothing left of himself to give. i think that is far more selfish. aang may be the avatar but he is also human. just as much human as his people were, and the leaders he was fighting against, and the millions of people he ended up saving, and just as deserving of having some sort of agency in the decisions he makes. call me crazy ig

#aang’s decision to spare ozai was the right decision and yall will never convince me otherwise #aang was a victim of this war and his people deserved to receive justice in a way they would have appreciated and advocated for #and if you wanna say it was selfish of him #then so what??#call me crazy but i think a 12 year old survivor of genocide is more than right to be selfish when confronting the man #whose forefathers took his people and culture from the earth #and who planned on giving that same fate to other nations of people #atla #avatar the last airbender #pro aang #aang defense squad #air nomads #airbenders #aang #avatar aang

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n0vaisnthere · 3 months

Note

Hello! Rlly loved your Furina fic!

Could you do an apocalypse, fanfic childe? With Childe's little brother just trying to survive in the apocalypse!

Eto po lubvi

Modern! Childe x GN! reader

Oneshots

Worries about Teucer all the time.

He worries that the entire apocalypse has ruined his chances at just being a kid.

He tries his best to protect him from the harsh realities of the word now.

He has no way to get in contact with his family, so as far as he knows, Teucer is the only real family he has right now.

So he doesn't want to lose him.

"I'm worried about him.." Childe sighed, watching as the fired crackled in the fireplace..

You've been stuck inside a small home in the middle of a big city for almost three months now. It was horde after horde, anytime you wanted to move to a diffrent city, another horde came. At this point, you guys were running low on supplies.

"Why? He looks fine to me.." You said, looking down at the sleeping Teucer who had fallen asleep a couple hours ago. It was always nice to see he had gotten sleep whenever you two couldn't.

"I mean.. I dont know— just the fact he can't really be a kid anymore.." Childe sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. He did his best not to wake up Teucer, who had fallen asleep on his other shoulder.

You gave him a small smile, your hand resting over his own, trying to give him some form of comfort.

"Im sure things will go back to how they used to be soon.." You knew it was just empty promises. He knew that, too. But wishful thinking was better than giving up.

There was a comfortable silence between you two, basking in eachothers presence for a bit.

—★°•

Protective of you as well

Especially when you both go out scavenging in old abandoned stores

Tries to keep you close at all times

Not only were there the dangers of zombies, but there were also the dangers of other survivors

Hes seen first hand the lengths they'd go to surivive out here.

You were walking through the deep freezer. It was slightly ajar, but you hoped there was something still edible in here. It smelt rancid inside the small room. And from the looks of it, everything was rotted already. You sighed, about to leave the room when your heart dropped to your toes. There was a zombie right at the door— skin a freekish green, jaw streatched out abnormally wide. Your hand fumbled, trying to grab your pocket knife when a shot rang out. Your ears were ringing for a moment before you regained your senses. A familiar ginger standing infront of you.

"Are you alright?" He said, his anxious eyes flicking over your body, looking for any injury.

"Ajax.. relax, im okay." You sent him a small smile, resting your hands on his shoulders, trying to sooth his anxiety.

He quickly pulled you into his chest, his hand cradling the back of your head protectivly.

"You have to stop running off like that.." he murmured.. you could hear his heartbeat, how his heat was racing.

—★°•

Tries his best to cook

Of course, supplies is limited

So it isn't the best food..

Look, he tries, that's all that matters.

"Tah-dah! My famous beef jerky and eggs!" Childe grinned, smiling at you and Teucer. Placing two plates infront of you both.

It looked.. diffrent. Small peices of dried beef jerky sprinkled on top of eggs that looked rubbery. Dont judge a book by its cover, I guess..

"It smells delicious, Childe!" You sent him a small smile. Resisting the urge to gag at the smell. Teucer looked at his plate with a slight confusion, poking at the eggs with his fork.

"Is this.. good?" Teucer asked, looking up a Childe with confusion. His fork was barely stabbing through the eggs because of how thick they were.

"Be greatful, you know a lot of people dont have— Hey! Dont dump it behind the couch!" Childe groaned, watching as Teucer tried to sneakily get rid of the food from his plate.

"Whoops!"

—★ MASTERLIST— here

#genshin x reader #x reader #genshin impact x reader #love you anon #childe x reader #childe #ajax #ajax x reader #tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x you #ajax x you #childe x you

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thegreenthepeacetheorange · 10 months

Text

Everlark (Catching Fire, Ch. 15-16)

(finnick and johanna are in the building. i repeat, finnick and johanna are in the building!)

katniss likes her men medium handsome. she likes to find the beauty in the ordinary things. so of course finnick is of no interest to her whereas peeta...

katniss mocking finnick to peeta is hilarious

"because you have a weakness for beautiful things and i don't" "having an eye for beauty isn't the same thing as a weakness... except possibly when it comes to you" i know peeta had katniss's insides turning to mush on the regular. again, them having another compliment-off. they love those.

katniss fixating on peeta's blue eyes. again. "those blue eyes" - they're nothing spectacular... they're just blue eyes that belong to him so they're those blue eyes.

hand holding is just their thing. constant handholding at every opportunity. their hands are permanently intertwined

"peeta and i.. are so mesmerising" "peeta and i appear... young and strong and beautiful"

katniss being JEALOUS when johanna strips down. like she's so annoyed she won't look at peeta and throws his hand away from her when johanna leaves. "she spends the whole ride... chatting to peeta about his paintings while the light of his still-glowing costume reflects off her bare breasts" - she's MAD mad.

their fight after the elevator is so teenage it makes my heart ache. like they're really just teenagers navigating so many human experiences for the first time amongst this chaos.

one of the main reasons she's still angry with him the next day is because of him teasing her (and lingering jealousy over johanna). her being like 'i don't want his comfort but i'm still gonna die to ensure he's alive but i don't owe him more than that' (paraphrasing) is so funny because what do you even mean, katniss? she's unhinged

peeta just having a big group of friends around all the time, like he did in district 12 - and still it's katniss he wants the most. aw. "it's amazing that he ever took any notice of me." you can't convince me that katniss doesn't absolutely adore that she's peeta's chosen one. like she feels so special that he fell in love with her/chooses to love her.

"so i'm stupid for thinking that they might be useful. because of something johanna mason said while she was oiling up her breasts for wrestling" - oh she is so jealous and mad. lmao

i don't think i hold anything against peeta for not saying/doing something to chaff in the moment he kisses katniss. like he's also just 17 and he was probably equally caught off guard. haymitch really should've been the one to protect her but he laughed. peeta saying he won't let chaff kiss her again feels like him teasing but also him realising that she really didn't like that and i know for sure he wouldn't let that happen again.

katniss being like oh these people are quite nice and friendly and quite damaged that i would want to protect them "but all of them must die if i'm to save peeta" - she's unhinged. and this goes back to my point that a lot of her motivations are driven for selfish reasons. she's saving peeta for herself, because it's what she needs to happen

katniss doesn't want to stick it to the gamemakers because they're terrible people (although i'm sure that plays a part), it's just so she can draw attention away from peeta and hopefully onto herself for the sake of his survival

#everlark #peeta x katniss #katniss x peeta #katniss and peeta #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #the hunger games #catching fire #tgtpto everlark read

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jpitha · 1 year

Text

Drives like Crazy

So, humans have this thing where they underestimate risks that are long term, and overestimate risks that are short term. Since we come from such a dangerous world, it kind of makes sense. In the deep recesses of the past, if you were overly wary about that bear over there, you were more likely to survive. But eating healthy all life long to avoid heart disease? That's a problem for Tomorrow Me.

It could be that Xenos that come from less dangerous words have a different view of risk than we do, and would be... concerned by the things that we do all the time because we underestimate their risk.

****

"Set helm to manual, I have control." Jesse's voice was smooth and confident as she sat forward in the leatherette upholstered seat on the command deck. A joystick and a panel with buttons rose out of the floor as foot pedals rose up to meet her booted feet.

"Captain, I would like to register a concern." Unity said. They were the transport freighter that Jesse was now controlling, and they were clearly against this.

"Your concern is registered and noted" Jessie didn't stop setting up the controls. "But as you are aware, manual controls must be tested and verified working quarterly."

Mer'ally, the chief engineer, and unofficial voice of the K'laxi crew onboard Unity turned from her station and looked at Jesse. "I mean, Unity has a point. While we do have to test the manual control system, we don't have to test it while coming to dock at Hyacinth during one of the busiest times of the year."

Jesse's smile was thin and strained. "Once again, your concern has been noted." Jesse's eyes flicked up to the K'laxi staring at her. Mer'ally was unusually tall for a K'laxi, she was nearly Jesse's height. Her reddish orange fur complimented her large green eyes. With her large expressive ears flicking as she spoke her worries, Jesse couldn't help wonder why she was so distracted by her. She shook her head slightly. "Regardless. We have to test manual controls, and I want to practice docking with Hyacinth. We need to know how to pilot Unity in all situations, including docking."

Unity sighed. They weren't going to be able to talk her out of this. "As you wish, Captain, relinquishing control."

Jesse harumphed and got back to work. She ran the joystick in all directions, and everyone felt the ship wiggle in response. With a satisfied nod, Jesse adjusted the inertial compensators down a touch. She wanted to be able to feel the ship move, but not enough to get people motion sick. She nodded in satisfaction and looked up at the other people with her.

"Yen. Please request docking with Hyacinth."

"Aye Captain." Yen bustled at her station. Jesse wondered how she lucked out that all the officers on the command deck today were women, and once again had to push that thought out of her mind. She was on duty now.

After a moment Yen called out. "Docking approved. We're clear to dock on the lower ring, bay 33."

"Bay 33 aye." Jesse punched in the location on her control screen, and her vision was overlayed with the best path to the dock. She'll have to match rotation with Hyacinth, but since it's so large, they shouldn't have to go too fast. She goosed the thrusters and Unity started moving forward.

As they trundled towards bay 33, Jesse put Unity's controls through their paces. She gently rolled the ship to make sure the maneuvering thrusters worked correctly, she tumbled it end-over-end and she yawed it in place all the way around. It was actually a lot of fun. She could imagine the looks the other ships gave as Unity spun and pirouetted in place as it moved slowly towards their docking bay, but Jesse didn't care. Maybe she wanted to show off.

As the last maneuver finished, Jesse spun Unity such that with a few puffs from the main drive they'd match rotation with Hyacinth and being docking. Right before she fired the main drive, her console squawked.

"Collision imminent! Collision imminent! CHANGE DIRECTION NOW"

"What?" Jesse pulled hard on the joystick, and the front thrusters fired, sending the noise high while also stopping their forward momentum. With the compensators set low, everyone lurched forward in their seats. In the distance, Jesse heard a crash as something tipped over.

Unity called out. "Captain! There's a Starjumper that's thrusting away from Hyacinth without getting departure permission. Hyacinth is firing on it, and it's coming this way!"

"Why would they be shooting at a Starjumper?" Mer'ally's tail flicked. "Did they skip out on their docking fee?"

"Doesn't matter why right now." Yen didn't move her head from her console. "Comms are screaming with people yelling at them. They're not responding to anyone. They're on the run."

Jesse's screen was filled with the sight of one of the gigantic old interstellar starships bearing down on them. Orange lights of the tracers from the slug launchers oh Hyacinth were zipping past them. She felt ice in her veins as she realized that the Starjumper was going to hit them unless she did something drastic. An instant later, the collision alarm screamed loud again in the ship.

Jesse toggled ship-wide comms. "Juke charges! Brace for shock!" She fired the juke charges; small emergency explosives fired out of Unity and immediately exploded with their characteristic double boom. The area around the juke charge launchers were reinforced and bowl shaped to catch as much of the energy from the explosion as possible. The blast pushed the ship away with a lurch just as the Starjumper and slugs from Hyacinth passed where they were not a second ago.

"Hold tight everyone, I'm going get us away from here" Jesse's hands and feet danced over the panel as she increased power and started to thrust away. With the compensators still turned down, everyone felt the sickening drop as Unity dove and spun and turned as they were trying to get away from the attack.

"Jesse! You're too close to that ship!" Unity didn't even bother to call her Captain. Jesse saw the ship that Unity mentioned almost too late. She came hard on the portside thrusters and everyone held their breath as they glided by the ship.

"You were close enough to scorch their paint Jes-Captain." Mer'ally sighed in relief and grinned.

"The important thing is we missed, Mer." Jesse looked up and flashed a smile and a wink. Mer'ally quickly turned back to her station, but not before a ripple of fur went down her body, a K'laxi blush.

Unity sounded testy. "Captain. The danger has passed and you have more than proven your piloting ability as well as the function of the manual controls. Can I please have the helm?"

Jesse leaned back from her station and stretched. She was concentrating so hard it felt like no time at all had passed. "All right Unity. I release the helm. You have control."

"Aye Captain. Resuming docking with Hyacinth."

Now all Jesse had to do was wait for docking to complete and stress about whether she could ask Mer'ally out on a date. Unity was a civilian ship and they all worked for Houndstooth, one of the major Sol based corporations, so it wasn't like they had to worry about a higher ranked officer hitting on a lower ranked one, but Jesse still worried. She might say no. It was going to be a long wait to dock.

#writing #humans are space orcs #humans are deathworlders #humans are space oddities #humans and aliens #jpitha #sci fi writing #the k'laxiverse #humanity fuck yeah #hfy

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auspicioustidings · 9 months

Text

Firewatch Part 14

Summary: You visit a grave as our story comes to an end.

Words: 1.9k

You wondered if Johnny had snuck into bed with you. He had done it the last time Simon was on watch and it had been admittedly sort of nice waking up bundled in him. He was pretty cute when he was sleepy.

He hadn't, the warmth was from Dosia which was strange because these days she usually was either outside or cuddled up with Price if Simon wasn't around like the little traitor she was.

This was not Simon's bed.

–

“You've been through quite the ordeal! Can't believe you were in the forest all this time. Surprised you never came across our Firewatch, they live out there. Or they did I suppose.”

“I- sorry, what do you mean?”

“Didn't you ever notice that tower from your old place? It was a watchtower for wildfires, the men who ran it had a cabin out there as well. Shame about what happened.”

“The fire…”

“Ah last I heard between air support and the trucks coming in to help from all over it's looking like they have it contained, but these things tend to burn for days or weeks before we can really relax.”

“What about the men in the forest? What happened to them?”

The sheriff blinked at you.

“How exactly did you survive out there all this time?”

–

It wasn't as bad as it could have been was what people kept saying. The tower was gone, but the fire had never ripped through the town thanks to quick detection and action to contain it.

In the span of six months you had lost your home to fire twice over. You were living out of the little bed and breakfast while paperwork was sorted. There was a lot of red tape involved in bringing someone back from the dead, although it was curious how much easier it was made by the sheriff having not properly filed the death certificate in the first place. You weren't as officially dead as you should have been.

Everything would be wrapped up soon and then you didn't really know what you would do. You had money from the Insurance claim on your cottage (that had been a wild series of phone calls to increasingly senior people as you tried to explain that you were the owner who had perished in the fire), but you had no clue what to do with it.

You knew you had been putting it off, but it was time to go visit the grave. Maybe then you'd figure it out.

–

It wasn't anything fancy, just a rustic headstone set in the ashes. Dosia wasn't super interested, instead going to rub up against your visitor. Wonders never ceased.

“Knew she'd come around eventually.”

“They do say absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

“Does it?”

You glanced over at Kyle and your heart thumped. The last time you had seen him had been weeks ago when he was disappearing into smoke and embers.

“Yeah, yeah I think it does.”

You both stood and stared at the gravestone, Dosia's ears pricking before she took off towards the treeline. You weren't worried, you were pretty sure you knew who she was in a rush to see. She completely ignored the man walking towards you and Kyle on her way.

“Ouch.”

“She still hasn't forgiven you for saying I should've got a dog you know.”

“Still think ye should swap her for one.”

“He cried when we thought she didn't make it out.”

“Away and biel yer heid Gaz.”

You had missed them. You had really, truly missed them. It was overwhelming being on your own after always having them around. You were angry a lot at little things like how difficult you found a busy shop now. They had done that to you. It didn't make your stupid feelings any less complicated. It didn't make you feel any less like kissing the new scar on Johnny's arm or the bruises healing on Gaz.

“So you buried your girl in the end huh?”

“A few weeks before the fire. We were planning on bringing you to see it.”

“This close to town? Bit risky no?”

“Aye, reckoned ye were worth the risk.”

You took a deep breath to calm yourself. It was a strange thing looking at your own grave. Why put it here to bring you to see it? To prove that they weren't holding you to some impossible dream girl standard anymore?

“Was supposed to be a birthday present, but we're a bit late now aren't we little bird?”

Price looked tired as he emerged from the treeline. It must have been an awful few weeks for him. There was still the remnants of the fire to be looked after incase it blazed up again. It had taken out the cabin and the tower, nothing left but smouldering wrecks and a nasty looking burn creeping up his neck. All of those drawings in Simon's room gone. You don't know why that was one of the things that made you the saddest.

“Didn't feel much like celebrating anyway” you answered truthfully.

Your birthday had been 5 days after the fire and you had spent it for the most part staring into the void and napping. You hadn't felt like celebrating your new found freedom at all.

“We did actually get you something. Still have it, if you'd like.”

You wondered what it was. As far as you knew nothing survived the fire. But they were just things and things didn't seem all that important anymore. Not when Simon finally joined you, a purring Dosia in his arms. He was slow due to a bad left leg it seemed like.

“OK.”

Simon let Dosia down even though she was very reluctant to go so he could take something from around his neck. He handed you the corded necklace. It had a key on the end.

“Happy birthday sweetheart.”

“What's it for?”

“Havnae given it a name yet, thought we'd leave that for you tae do.”

“It's a 20 minute drive out the other side of town, just on the treeline.”

You stared at them. You knew what they were talking about. There was a crumbling cottage out there, you knew because you had considered buying it when you had first moved here but it was more expensive than the one you had went with and you couldn't afford it. You had completely forgotten it was there.

“Hope you don't mind sweetheart, but we took the liberty of getting the electrical work done.”

“And the roof, sorry luv I know you're a good roofer but my heart cannot take watching you do that again.”

“Tae be fully honest the whole thing is already done. Got a wee bit carried away.”

All those trips into town. The way they'd come back looking tired. They had been building you a home.

“But… no wait, that's not… you were going to let me go?”

“Couldn't keep you in a cage forever little bird.”

“You'd have gotten arrested!”

“Would we aye? For what?”

“For kidnapping me!”

“Funny thing sweetheart, nobody in town is talking about the fire because they're too busy talking about the miracle girl. Apparently survived months in the forest on her own, told the sheriff she was quite the survivalist.”

“Yeah well! You! I!” you huffed, trying to come up with any reason that you had lied that didn't sound like “I love you”. “It was a cooler story.”

They laughed and it made you smile. You couldn't do it in the end. They were not bad men, you couldn't tell the truth knowing it would see them punished and put away. When you didn't know if they were dead or alive it had brought your feelings a stunning clarity. You had fallen stupidly in love with them.

“So what's next?”

“Don't know honestly. We're camping out and keeping an eye on things. Once the danger has passed we rebuild” Price said, hand massaging at his shoulder.

“I'm pretty handy with a hammer.”

“Yeah?”

“Suppose I could help out” you offered, fighting to keep the stupid grin off of your face as you held up the key “after all my cottage is pretty nearby right? And this guy is going to be useless with that leg.”

“Watch it sweetheart, my teeth are still intact.”

–

John liked to joke that you would combust if you didn't have a project. Once the cabin was rebuilt (5 bedrooms, incase they had visitors obviously) you helped where you could with the tower, once that was done you wanted to redo the kitchen in the cottage, after that you talked him into taking in an abandoned dog (honestly very easy what with you and Kyle both giving your best puppy dog eyes). Dosia surprisingly seemed to enjoy the new addition, bullying the german shepherd into doing whatever she wanted. The pair of them mostly came and went as they wanted between the cottage and the cabin, thriving running wild in the forest in between.

Simon tried to get you into football which you sort of did. You had no interest in the big games, but you'd both go and cheer on the local team when they had home games. Inevitably you both looked a mess having gotten into a bit of a paint fight when you had insisted Simon have a little flag on his cheek. You threatened to de-fang him at least once a week. Both Dosia and Riley were absolutely in love with him which both you and Johnny sulked about. You thought maybe, for Riley at least, that Simon felt safe. His leg never quite healed right so he was more cautious and slow moving now, something you thought she might find comforting.

When Johnny wasn’t grumbling about the animals wanting nothing to do with him, he was whining at you to not get out of bed. You had never met a lazier creature than John MacTavish on a duvet day, he just wanted to cuddle and watch movies. When he was on a hyper day he wanted to redecorate which almost always ended in a fight because you disagreed on what would look good. Everytime a big video game release rolled around the two of you (and sometimes Gaz depending on the game) would just hole up for a weekend and do nothing but play. Luckily Price indulged you and usually kept you fed and watered.

Kyle had only been half kidding about making a fire fighter out of you. It started as therapy really, a way to try and control the nightmares. He took the lead in teaching you about all the equipment, letting you observe drills and even buying you custom fitted kit. While you never did want to be near a fire again, you learned to be less scared of the idea, you learned to believe that you would know what to do if anything happened. When you hadn't panicked at a little bin fire in your cottage and instead had just dealt with it, you had showed up at the cabin bursting with excitement to tell them.

The Firewatch went from 4 to 5. You enjoyed it, the peace and quiet and the stars as you sipped hot chocolate and looked out onto the forest. You didn’t really know what the future held for you, but against all odds you had found a family and you were well and truly happy. And if sometimes you found yourself looking through the binoculars just to check on said family, you figured that was just karma.

#mhairiwrites #cod #cod au #tf 141 x reader #honestly left it fully open to interpretation what relationships you end up with in the end #for my money this is all romantic but it is up to you to decide for yourself #Mhairi once again swinging at you with not really knowing how to end long fics and feeling like it's sort of come out of nowhere #Mhairi also once again insisting that Riley makes an appearance #Dosia and Riley are the real OTP here as they make a return to their exact dynamic in Wrong Number

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