#ghost of captain scavenger

[scoobydoobaday]

The New Scooby-Doo Movies S02E02 - The Haunted Showboat (1973) Hanna Barbera Productions

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Zombie!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Zombie!Ghost, Reader

Summary: Being on the run from the undead doesn't leave much time for more intimate things, but once things start to settle a little an ache begins to form that you havent felt in a long time. What will you do when the only other person you are with is your former lover turned zombie.

Word Count: 4.8 k

Warnings:

Author's Note: here it is as requested. I hope I did it justice. Happy Halloween 🎃

You’d been on the run for months now, never stopping as hordes of the undead nipped away at any temporary calm would you seek to have. It wasn’t easy always having to look over your shoulder, wondering when you were going to get ambushed again or if you’d get overrun and you’d have to make your final stand in a blaze of glory. Something like that isn’t supposed to become normal, but after over a year of living in hell you kind of get used to it… Kind of.

That first month was the hardest since you had been completely on your own because in the chaos and confusion of that first wave as the everything fell apart, including the 141 you were stationed with, you’d gotten separated from everyone. Hiding in the sewers, scavenging for food like some kind of rat, it was torture. But then you came across someone you thought you’d never see again: Ghost.

He was holed up alone in an abandoned farmhouse back in the thick of the woods a town over from the base. What should have been a reunion with someone you knew was thrown off by the fact that he had in fact been turned into one of the undead. Out of everyone that you could have run into, why him? You two had history, the kind where intimate details were something that you shared, and now you were both thrust together once again only this time there were bigger things at stake other than if you’d get caught fooling around by the captain.

The strange thing was that even though Ghost had been fully transformed by the infection, it was not what you expected. You realized quickly that Ghost had kept most of his humanity, though the more finer details of his person were scrambled by the disease. Even though he could not speak anymore due to the fact that his jaw was broken, Ghost was still inside there. And the strangest part of it all was that he remembered you.

It wasn’t like anything you had seen from the horde of mindless undead and so instead of facing the unknown alone again, you decided to stick with him. For over a year you two stayed side by side and although you did not come across any others of the task force, it was enough to just have one another.

Honestly he wasn’t a terrible companion, though a bit of conversation would have been nice. Still, having him with you had its perks. Being one amongst the walking corpses had great benefits and Ghost used them to their full capability to keep you safe so that after a time, even though the world still sat in ruin, you two were not doing too bad. At least you were able to stay in place for more than a day now.

That’s where you found yourself, shacked up in a two story cottage you had found almost untouched and secluded in the middle of the woods. It was easy enough to make secure, as secure as you could having limited supplies, but apart from a few stray corpses stumbling by there wasn’t much action. That anxiety riddled tension that you had held in your chest for over a year began to ease and with that came old stirrings that you hadn’t felt since before the world collapsed.

An old familiar ache brought on by being near someone who you used to share such things with, the one that leaves you begging to be quenched, wormed its way back into your life and now that you had more time on your hands it was becoming a major problem.

You see, adrenalin has a funny way of fucking with your head: heightening your senses, making your pulse race, everything feels so much more intense. You were only human, one who still had needs which had not been met in so fucking long that you couldn’t even remember what it felt like to be touched by another and so having your blood always rushing and your skin tingling, how could you stop yourself from giving in to that most basic of temptations?

It was a shame that Ghost wasn’t an option now; you would liked to have him one more time as the world burned, but there was no way no… right?

So, instead, one evening after the perimeter had been secured and the doors re-bolted, the windows rechecked and the traps restrung, that ache reached its peak and you had to do something before it got in the way of staying safe. Sneaking off to the bedroom you had claimed for yourself upstairs, you allowed that overwhelming need to finally overtake you.

Leaving the door slightly ajar so that you could still be alert to any stray sounds, you laid down on the cushioned surface of the mattress, your pulse racing rapidly in your chest at the prospect of doing this. You made quick work of your jeans, unbuttoning them and pulling down the zipper only enough so that you could access that throbbing between your thighs. Clamping your mouth shut in an effort to keep quiet you slid your hand down the front of your pants, down all the way until you reached your sex. 

A whimper filled your mouth that you choked back down; the last thing you needed was to alert a horde with your desperate cries as you worked yourself. It may have been a while, but you knew exactly what to do and extending your middle finger you split yourself open to find your clit, another whimper rising in your throat as you made the connection and began to draw tight circles around the bundle of nerves.

It was hard not to get worked up so fast as that remembered pleasure filled your mind and snaked its way through your limbs to make your body vibrate and as you stroked that pulsing bean you were brought back to those times when you and Ghost used to get lost in that ecstasy together. You couldn’t be blamed for where your mind wandered, not when you had to be near the one person who knew how to draw your pleasure from you, even if he couldn’t do it anymore.   

Before you knew it, you had flipped yourself onto your stomach and then onto knees to ride your fingers, hips grinding away as you imagined him underneath you. Fuck, the way he used to look staring back up at you with those hungry copper eyes, hands greedily clinging around the meat of your hips as he shoved you down harder onto his cock before he would inevitably flip you onto your back to pound into you; it was enough to make you salivate with need, but still you tried to keep quiet.

You thought yourself sneaky, keeping things to a minimum as you desperately drew out your release, but Ghost was not the same man he was when he was alive. His senses were different now, enhanced like a wild animal’s by the infection that took his life and made him into something entirely new. As he stood in the living room, staring blankly out the window to watch for any signs of undead, something caught his attention.

The scent of pheromones were on the air, enticing him forward to the upstairs. He followed it all the way to the back bedroom, your room. Slowly, silently, creeping towards the door, Ghost peered unblinking through the slit to watch you up on your knees on top of your bed, your pants hanging slack around your hips while your ass point upward towards the door. That motion, he knew it; that back and forth sway of your hips over top of your bed. 

There was another fragrance on the air now, something more familiar. Taking a deep breath, his heightened sense of smell caught the scent of your natural lubrication currently soaking your fingers and it awoke something deep within him like a fire in chest akin to what an animal feels when it goes into heat. His slack mouth began to unconsciously salivate as ingrained memories surfaced, flashes of remembered sensations from times when he too enjoyed such pleasures. Inherent, primal, a reaction as innate as breathing.  

It was then that he became acutely aware of a tightness growing down below and instinctually he cupped his hand around it, rubbing the growing bulge against his chilly palm. Was he actually getting hard? That was surprising as anyone would have expected that to not happen anymore; he had retained much of his humanity, but he had not had the time until now to explore all the facets of what that entailed.

The more he rubbed the more it grew until the front of his pants tented out near the zipper, straining so hard against the fabric that he had to wonder if he could pop the closure without even trying. God, it felt…amazing.

“Fuck, Simon,” he caught the whispered hiss through the silence as you pressed your body down harder onto the bed, onto your fingers, and it sent a shiver up his spine. The way you said that name he hadn’t heard in so long, in that desperate way almost as a plea to your lust to fulfill its unspoken promise and wash that euphoric feeling over you, caused memories to violently resurface. He had heard that before in just that exact way- from you.

Scattered and disjointed memories of you beneath him burst into his minds eye, brought back to life by the sound of your voice: you writhing with eyes closed, your skin glistening with perspiration in the pale light of a dimly lit room, bare breasts bouncing up and down with each of his strong thrusts, crying his name into the silence as you came.

If breathing was something he was still required to do those lungs would be heaving by now to bring in enough air as he was so worked up that he would surely be panting. His hand gripped tighter now around the head of his cock, stroking with more purpose now as his dilated pupils followed the curve of your back all the down to your ass to watch it bob up and down.

The pace of his hand quickened to match your rocking as if fucking you by proxy, stroking through his clothes while transfixed on you. Goddamn he wished he could remember the way you felt wrapped around him, but that sensation had been lost when he succumbed to the disease. All he could do was watch and enjoy the way your body looked while your movements became more sloppy as the warmth gathered in the pit of your stomach, that delicious heat that you had not felt in so long.

“Yes, yes,” you mewled under your breath while your thighs clenched around your hand as you were so close. You brought in another finger to join the first one and with both you slipped them inside your entrance; it was nothing like the way Ghost could fill you out, but it would have to do.

Bearing down hard while you kept the pace steady, your breathing more erratic, you finally reached the peak and spilled violently over the edge, tumbling down as your body writhed and jerked through the overwhelming intensity of that first orgasm. You stifled your cries as much as you could inside your mouth, but they still reached an unknown listener who nearly came himself if he had not had to move quick before being spotted.

…and that left him very frustrated…   

You fell onto the mattress, removing your fingers from your pussy as you breathed out a sigh of contented relief. It hadn’t been clear just how much you needed that until you came and fuck did you feel on cloud nine now. As you rolled over onto your stomach to stare up at the ceiling while you rode out the wave of your euphoric high, you swore you heard a series of strange movement just outside your door; a soft few taps that sounded like they were getting farther away which would have been out of place, but the house you were currently boarded up in was old and so you convinced yourself it was nothing.

Besides, if anything was truly wrong, Ghost would have already alerted you by now. 

It was several minutes you just laid there in the silence before you took one last deep breath to calm yourself as you got up to straighten your clothing and re-buttoned your pants, hoping that your self-pleasuring session had gone completely unnoticed to your companion as you headed back down stairs to double check that everything was still secure.

In his usual spot you found him standing, always watching with that unblinking gaze, but as you stepped into the living room his sight was immediately drawn to you. “Hey,” you greeted him, “everything still okay out there?”

The usual grunted reply was returned and you stepped over to where he stood, just to take a look for yourself. It didn’t hurt to have another set of eyes to catch things and you felt more comfortable checking for yourself anyway. Scanning the area outside you saw nothing out of place, but as you pulled back from the window you were met with those cold eyes directly staring at you.

Silently Ghost’s large hand came up to touch your cheek, rubbing his thumb across a certain flush pooling there that drew his curiosity and he grunted with a nod of his head at it. You diverted your gaze, suddenly self-conscious about how warm they were still, like a fucking beacon calling attention to what it was you were doing upstairs; not that you cared, but shit you didn’t need your business plastered all over your face like that.

“It’s nothing,” you reassured him with a chuckle. “Just got a bit warm I guess. I promise I’m not infected or anything like that.”

Fully expecting him to take you at your word you went to move over to the sofa, but his hand clung to the side of your face to keep you in your place. You tilted your head as he shook his own side to side slowly. 

“What? Don’t believe me?” you picked, slightly concerned about this strange development; he had not acted in such a way before and you did not know if it was a part of the infection or not. 

Again he shook his head before his eyeline lowered down your body until his sight stopped at the crotch of your pants. Shit, had he heard you? Could he smell the trace amounts cum still clinging to your cunt? There was no real way to tell, but the way his eyeline kept drifting down before meeting your own again was enough to indicate that he was aware of what you had just done. 

You cleared your throat. “You know what I was doing, don’t you?” you asked and was met with another nod, this time to the affirmative.

Well, nothing to do about it now; what was the point of denying it? “Look, I just… needed something to take the edge off okay?” you spurted out. “I mean fuck, I still have needs, even if they had to be put on the back burner for a bit while we tried not to get overrun. You of all people should know how I get sometimes. At least I was quiet enough not to cause problems for us.”

Ghost looked back at you with those milky white eyes, but there was something behind them, something that you recognized, something… yearning. Suddenly you were aware that his other hand was on your hip now, tracing sloppy circles around the soft warm skin just under the hem of your shirt. 

Goddamn the familiarity of his fingers lingering over old paths they used to take in times almost forgotten; if you closed your eyes, it was like you were right there back with him. Your chest was tight with the increased thumping of your heartbeat in your throat, the air not filling up your lungs as well now as he pulled you in a little closer to him until your bodies were against one another. 

That was when you felt something against your thigh.

“Can you…?” you risked asking the question. No, there was no way that he could still get hard, right? Right? 

A large, cold hand wrapped around your wrist and brought it down to his crotch where he rested your palm against it and to your surprise the bulge in his pants responded to your touch. Your eyes shot back up to his as your breathing hitched. 

“Fuck,” you murmured and was promptly met with a grunt from him followed by a deep chuckle. 

Perhaps it was the history, the knowledge of what his body used to give you; perhaps it was the need that you had not truly quenched fully yet; perhaps it was your memories that you’d used as you touched yourself; or maybe it was as simple as you still wanted him; whatever the reason it didn’t matter. All you knew was that you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting more of what you started upstairs.  

Hesitantly your fingers grasped at his shirt, slowly tugging at the seam as if to silently ask to be allowed to remove it. Never letting his gaze waiver, Ghost raised his arms and allowed you to pull it up and off over his head. His body was just as you remembered, though quite a bit more pale and the flesh discolored in places, but all the lines and bumps, scars and imperfections were the same and as you ran those delicate fingertips over his skin it all came flooding back.

This is crazy, you told yourself. But it was the end of the world after all, why not go out with a bang?

“It’s been a while,” you said, gaze taking him all in. “God, you always did make my heart race just taking off your shirt, ya know.”

“Uhh,” he grunted in agreement. 

The contrast in body temperature between you both was stark and he enjoyed the warm, tingling feeling your finger left behind wherever they went. He had not felt such a phenomenon in so long that it was like lightening striking inside his mind as nerve endings reignited. It went the same with his pants as you undid them to let them hang loosely around his hips.

Following your lead, he helped you out of your shirt as well so that you stood bare chests facing one another. Your nipples were already hardening as they hit the cool air and he ran a fingertip over the tiny rosebuds to feel them. You were perfection, a sight of decadent flesh that fueled that hungry need he had to abruptly cut off before and the more he stared the more it grew.

The couch sat just behind you and taking your hand in his he moved the few steps over it to take a seat. Grabbing onto your hips and turning you around, he pulled you down onto his lap to sit on top of him. That throbbing bulge barely covered by the pants slipping off him was straining even harder now and you had to open your legs so that it could comfortably stand at attention in between them.

Situated on him you leaned your warm, bare back against his chest, those muscles that you knew by touch alone were now clammy, yet still familiarly fit against you just as they always had. Ghost took those stiff, cold fingers and ran them slowly down the line of your neck to your chest, around the tissue of your breast and down still to the curve of your hip. 

Being touched that way by another, by him, after so fucking long made your skin tingle and you leaned your head back against his shoulder to close your eyes and simply enjoyed the icy prickles his fingers created. He brought those fingers back up all the winding way to your throat and then back down again, except he did not stop at your hip this time. 

Lower he walked those decaying digits into your lap, then inside the waistband of your jeans, and then all the way down until he was inside your panties. You didn’t try to stop him, instead letting your knees fall open to give him more access. The further he went the more he could feel just how warm you were, the damp heat radiating off your cunt and into his pulse-less palm as he cupped his hand around your sex.

“Christ,” you exclaimed in shock as your body jolted against him, your pussy still a good bit sensitive from before. 

“Uhhh,” he groaned in response, intrigued by how much he enjoyed causing such a visceral reaction and wanting to replicate it. 

Again your scent filled his nostrils, those delicious pheromones that he had caught a whiff of earlier, and it began to awaken something primal within him. Taking his fingers, he drug them heavily over the slit of your cunt until they slipped between your petals and into that still dripping core. Again your body jolted into him as those thick fingers rubbed the length until he found what he had unconsciously been searching for: a small bundle towards the top. 

“Ugh,” that deep groan was more breathless this time, as if he were enjoying the feeling of your juices coating his fingers.  

Cool fingers began stroking against your clit with a rhythm that was ingrained in him from past experience and it was like falling right back into old habits. Your hips started to roll over his hand as they were want to do in response to his movements so that it was like a dance of give and take and he had to wrap an arm around your waist to keep you from slipping, but it was worth it to feel the way your body moved.

Like an animal a strange compulsion awakened inside, enhanced by the disease coursing through his veins, and the untamed part of his new nature was flooded with the need to rut into you. The more music you made, the more it filled his chest until the sensation became too much to quell. 

With a growl he moved you both to the floor in a rush, ripping your jeans off of you in one strong tug before pushing you forward and pulling your hips up so that you had to get on your knees. He too knelt behind you as he shoved the fabric of his clothing down enough to release his engorged cock and taking both of your hips into his preternatural grasp, so firm that his fingertips made the muscle sting, he aligned the head with your slit. 

This was crazy, highly dangerous, and slightly insane, but you couldn’t stop, not with how your body felt being pleasured for the first time in well over a year by someone who knew it. Whatever the consequences you’d deal with them later, right now you just needed to be filled to the brim with everything he had. 

Instinct knew what to do and slipping through your petals a few times, he rested the head against your opening and with a strong thrust shoved himself inside as far as he could go. Goddamn you had forgotten the actual feeling of how big he was, but there must be something in being undead that made him even more engorged because his girth almost more than the walls of your pussy could handle. Fuck, you were so full of him that when he finally pulled out of you it would feel so goddamn empty it would physically hurt.

You were aware that his cool palm was on your back now, running up the length of your spine to just between your shoulders where Ghost stopped to shove your top half down further into the ground so that your ass would rise more and without more of pause he began to thrust in and out of you furiously. Each stroke stretched you out more until the sting subsided and that was left was the satisfying euphoria that comes with being filled so full.

“Simon,” you moaned out his name and a dormant part of his brain lit up. Hearing it for the first time upstairs was nice, but being inside of you as you breathed life into that moniker was the highest level of ecstasy he had experienced yet.

And he need more. “UH,” he growled with force as he slammed into you from behind to make your ass bounce off of his hips. 

You braced your hands under your head to steady yourself, but it did little; the man inside of you was gone and all you could do was hang on. Still, even with his roughness, the way his cock still reached those desperate nerve endings inside of you made the arch of your back even more pronounced. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” you choked out the exclamation as your voice vibrated from the impacts. 

Harder and faster Ghost pounded your pussy from behind, throwing caution to the wind as he grunted and groaned like a beast on the hunt about to capture a fresh kill. You were so fucking warm, so gorgeously wet, that even his dead skin felt reanimated so that each brush of your body against him had him reeling in pleasure. 

This was the closest he would get to feeling like a living thing again.

Stopping suddenly he ripped his cock out of you amidst your begging protests to flip you onto your back, brutishly pulling your ass onto his knees. Your thighs rested high around his torso, squeezing against him as he immediately thrust back into that warm, wet hole and expeditiously returned to that overwhelming rhythm. 

The room was filled with the wet, sticky music of your bodies slapping against each other as Ghost worked your hole for all it was worth with a reckless abandon that you had not seen in him before. This wasn’t love, not something tender, but only pure animalistic lust and the more he stroked in and out of you the more he needed.

And then he felt it; a warmth in his stomach like he had swallowed coals. It started faint, almost indistinguishable until it had nearly filled him full the more he kept going. 

He couldn’t stop, he couldn’t back down, he was so close he could taste it. You weren’t far off either, nearly at the peak of your second orgasm the harder his cock stroked in and out of you, stimulating your clit along with it just from the pressure of his thrusts. 

“Shit, don’t stop,” you pleaded pathetically to him, your toes curling into the air as you focused on your breathing. Right there, it was right there; all he had to do was keep going.   

A few more pumps of him deep in your core and that was it, like a hot flash of white light you cried out in shaky whimpers as your orgasm tore through with such force you shot up as your back arched and your hips bucked harshly into him. “Goddammit Simon, fuck.”

He wasn’t far behind as the warmth that had been building finally shot through his body, coursing like a burning river of fire through his veins as he ripped his cock out of you and through your thighs to cover your stomach in his milky white semen. The roar he released while he drained his cock dry over top of you rang out through the house like a wild animal’s cry until he hung limply over top of you, completely spent.

Everything lay still once again as you caught your breath, allowing your ecstasy to run its course before you even tried to move out from against him. As you came to sit up, once again you were met with his eyes watching you closely. It felt like he was admiring his handiwork: the flush in your cheeks, the sweat speckling your torso, the exhaustion in your limbs. 

He had done that…and he liked it.

You flashed him a genuine smile. “Well, that was something wasn’t it?” you laughed and he chuckled deadoan along with you. 

Maybe the end of the world didn’t have to be so bad after all. At least, now you both knew that there were ways to have a little fun… and oh fuck, were you going to keep having little bits of fun.

[mirage-aera]

•°. *࿐ Leave a light on

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : The Night We Met - Lord Huron

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x reader

Zombie au, don’t like don’t read.

Synopsis: When a scouting mission goes south and the 141 get stranded for days without help. They got told they would be sent updates for evac everyday at dawn. A hope to get out alive. So when the day came that Shepherd broke the news that they are on their own and a member died, they decided to try and make it back themselves. Ghost loses it at the sight of seeing Shepherd once they return.

Word count: 4.102

Masterlist

In the early stages of the outbreak, the government tried to keep control of the situation as much as they possibly could by sending out whatever was left of the military and mowing down the infected with the limited amount of ammunition they had. Once they realized that won’t work they decided scouting missions would be the plan to scavenge for various things that could be proved useful. However, people will get infected, specifically people who are fed up with living behind walls and want to try and survive out there. Outside of the safe sanctuary, the not-so-experienced won’t even last a day. And the military? Well, only the elite teams and some mercenaries are left. Within a week the majority of the emergency workers and military ceased to function. Too few of them to do something. Sooner than later, soldiers started dropping like flies, most of them turned as well and had to be killed by their own brothers and sisters during the ‘mowing down as many infected as you can’ operations. Which was just sending young men and women to their deaths. Once supplies started running low, the people who are running the shitshow have decided to send the 141 for supply runs. That currently is a 5 man army. Somehow you’ve always scrapped by some miracle.

Except this time. Eventually, you find yourselves trapped in an abandoned hotel, which is no doubt filled with those infected. With a horde of infected waiting outside of the building, there’s no way to get out of there. With no ammunition, and a limited amount of rations. The only thing you have going for yourselves is you’re all still alive granted, a little worse for wear, but still alive, and a radio. You’re hiding in the lobby of the hotel. You hear occasional bangs of infected trying to get into the building and the moaning and groaning that comes with the package. John immediately goes into captain mode. Something he frequently does when you leave the walls to go for supplies runs. “Soap, Gaz. Make sure to keep an eye on those infected outside and that they don’t come inside. If they come inside we’re in trouble. Ghost, radio Shepherd. Tell him we are stranded and need help getting out of this shithole. Hawk, you’re with me. We’re going to explore this place a bit. For if we need to retreat further into the building we can.” ‘Roger’ and ‘copy that’ are said and you all get to work. Simon immediately gets on the radio and tries contacting the general. He glances at you as you get ready to head with John further in. “Be careful.” You nod and give him a small smile as you check your gear, “you know I am.” He stares at you with worried eyes but says nothing. He continues fiddling with the radio. The thing is barely working but it’s one of the only options you have. Johnny and Kyle are watching the infected intently, specifically at the weak spots, like the windows and doors. If they start cracking they need to move instantly.

You move with John through the lobby as you traverse the ground floor of the hotel. “Keep your gun up and check your corners.” John says quietly, not wanting to alert the undead if they are here. “Yes sir,” you mutter out. You enter the restaurant area. It’s completely covered in blood but no undead to be seen. Either they’ve been dealt with before or they moved somewhere else. You can see that John comes to the same conclusion as you, “let’s keep moving.” You nod as you follow him. You continue doing the same for the kitchen area. Noticing it’s empty as well, you lower your gun and check the cabinets. Not bothering with the fridge, food in there would be spoiled by now. You grab whatever canned foods you can find and store them in your backpack. John does the same. With this routine, you secure the ground floor.

Meanwhile, Simon has made contact with Shepherd, “General. We need immediate help. We are surrounded by a horde of infected. We are currently holed up in the hotel.” He hears crackling as he awaits an answer from the general, “I hear you. We will try and lure the infected away, I will update you.” Simon mutters out a ‘copy that’ before letting go of the button. Now it’s time to play the waiting game and hope they don’t have to play it for too long. Simon pulls out his journal from his bag. Ever since the outbreak started he started journaling. It’s to help keep him sane, but it’s also to keep track of the evolution of the undead and the decline of humanity. He pulls out a pen as well and starts writing.

Day 109

Today we got sent out for another supply run as we’re running low on everything. Things went south when a horde of infected surrounded us. Now we’re stuck in the abandoned hotel awaiting evac from General Shepherd. I got assigned the radio while Kyle and Johnny were watching the windows and doors. John and (Y/n) were exploring the hotel in case we needed to retreat further in the building.

Shepherd said he will update us, this could take hours or even days.

- Simon

He draws a little skull face next to his name. A habit that you got him into. You said that during these unfortunate times, a little fun will be a good thing to make it less depressing. Sooner than later you and John return. You’ve cleared the ground and first floor. No undead lurking around those areas. You’re free to retreat in any of those areas if it comes down to it. Kyle and Johnny share their observations concerning the windows, stating they will do but won’t last long. Simon conveys Shepherd’s words along. That evacuation might take a couple of days. So either find a way back yourselves or wait for Shepherd to send help. You’d rather find a way yourselves than wait on that snake. You can tell by the others’ expressions they feel the same way as you do. John calls out, “we’ll wait for Shepherd. We have better chances of getting out of this, all of us. If we can get some help clearing the guys outside.” No one is too happy with his decision but you trust his intuition. He has gotten you all out before on past missions and during the apocalypse, so why won’t he now?

The rest of the day is spent chatting amongst yourselves and watching the windows. You’ve agreed that for the night you’ll alternate, with at least 2 at a time. You can’t take any risks. You would hate to wake up with a zombie chewing on your leg if you accidentally fall asleep, that would be just unfortunate. You and Simon take the first watch. Letting the others get some rest. You watch as the undead growls angrily at you through the glass. Simon puts an arm around your waist, “seems so surreal, doesn’t it?” You nod, it really does. “Funny how we used to joke that it would never happen, now look where we are.” You say bitterly. He nods, “can’t say we’re prepared for this either.” Comfortable silence envelopes you, aside from the groaning and banging. “Tomorrow John and I are checking the rooms on the second floor. Those are likely to be filled with infected.” You grimace at the thought of them. Yes, you’ve killed countless of them, but it doesn’t make them any less disgusting. He glances at you before turning his gaze to the windows again, “I can go instead of you if you’d feel safer.” He offers. Your eyes soften at his proposal, “it’s okay. I’m a big girl. I can handle it.” You lightly jest. You can tell he’s smiling behind the balaclava with the way his eyes are crinkling. “I do not doubt that, lovie.” You change the subject, “can I borrow your journal?” He raises an eyebrow but gives it to you nonetheless. You grab a pen out of your pocket and flip to his latest entry. You smile at the little skull face. You draw a tiny hawk next to it with a few endearing words and close the journal handing it back to him. You’ve done the same thing to some of his other entries. You have no clue if he has noticed. If he has then he hasn’t said anything about it.

After some time passes you get relieved by Kyle and John. You wordlessly get up and head back to where Johnny is probably snoring away. You spot him resting on his pack, using it as a pillow. Completely out cold. Simon snickers at the sight while you let out a small chuckle. Simon does the same, he sets his pack down on the floor and uses it as a pillow. He beckons you over with his arms outreached. You smile as you shuffle over into his arms. He rests your head on his chest, allowing you to use him as a pillow. He drapes his jacket over you two to act as a blanket. Even in a precarious situation, moments like these with him are the safest you could ever be. “Get some rest, lovie. You’ll need the energy.” He didn’t have to say that twice. A few seconds later you’re immediately out.

The next morning you wake up to the crackle of the radio. Simon is already up and listening to it. He sits on the floor with your head in his lap as he plays with your hair. He notices that you’re awake. He looks down at you, “good morning. Sleep well?” You smile tiredly at him, “yeah I did.” He nods before turning his attention back to the radio once he hears his name. You can faintly hear Shepherd’s voice on the radio. As the two continue their exchange you get up and walk over to John, who’s already up and probably waiting for you. You greet him as you grab your gear. He smiles briefly at you before nodding, “ready to go?” You nod, “ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s go.” No further words need to be said, he leads the way to the second floor.

As you head up the stairs. John speaks in a hushed manner, “just like yesterday. Guns up and check your corners. We’re likely to see them here, especially in the rooms.” He informs you. “Got it.” You check your corners as you move through the hallway. While John goes the other way. Sure enough, there’s an infected standing idly in the middle. Its joints are misaligned and softly grunting. You raise your gun to its head and fire. The silencer made sure that others weren’t alerted to your position. It slumps to the floor in a heap. Soon John rounds the corner and looks at the body on the floor and then at you. “That makes three then.” You nod. “Let’s check the open rooms, could be they have something useful for us.” You follow him as you clear rooms together, shooting down unsuspecting infected as well. You search the rooms for left-behind canned goods, ammunition, anything that can be proven useful. Most of these rooms have come up empty or the only things left behind are useless objects. John shakes his head as he emerges from a bathroom, “nothing useful here. Let’s go, we’ll check the other floor.” He says as he moves to the staircase. “Roger.” You quietly stick behind him, raising your gun as you go up. He holds his hand up as he motions there are three of them in front of him. You nod as you wait for his signal to take them down together.

He gives the go and you swiftly take care of them. They slump to the floor. You move up using the same strategy before. You’ll pinch them in the hallway and clear rooms together. He heads the other way as you continue going forward. You come across two more. You shoot them down and meet up with John. You hear two more thuds, signaling that he killed two as well. He comes into your sight as you lower your gun. “Fuck there’s a lot up here.” He whispers. You hum in agreement. “John. I think we should head back. There’s likely to be more in the rooms and there’s only two of us. If we get overwhelmed in a small confined room… It's too risky.” You warn him. He takes in your words. He knows you’re right. “Let’s go. You’re right, it’s not worth it. If anything happens we can just run to the roof.” You smile gratefully at him, happy that he considered your advice. You head back to the group. The two are still watching the ones outside and Simon is messing with the radio. John gives him a look. Simon shakes his head, “nothing new.” He says in frustration. “We might need to find our own way out soon.” He states. Or what he’s trying to say is, ‘Shepherd is going to leave us high and dry.’ John sighs, “I know.”

Night falls, the groaning and moaning outside lessens as they can’t see you inside anymore. You sit with Simon as the guys chatter about mindless things to pass the time. He wraps his arms around your waist as he converses with Johnny. Eventually its lights out as you all settle down for the night.

A few days pass with the usual things happening around you. John and you have cleared the way to the roof, Kyle and Johnny expressing their concerns with the window that’s separating the army of undead from you. Simon is still on the radio, growing more frustrated by the day. With the lack of updates, everyone is growing a bit restless. Well aware that you are in trouble if they don’t make an effort for you. As a new dawn comes you can hear Simon yelling into the radio. “What the fuck do you mean you’re holding off on support?!” His yelling wakes the others aside from John, who’s staring at the infected outside with a grimace. “So that’s it?! You’re leaving us?!” You hear him shout again. You aren’t stupid, you all know what’s going on. The general is abandoning you. The banging on the windows intensifies. Suddenly you hear cracking before glass shatters everywhere. “Everyone! To the roof now!” John barks out as he runs. You all follow suit, knowing damn well you can’t fight off the horde. You bolt up the stairs, the zombies following you, clambering up. Price pushes the door and holds it open as he waits for you all.

You make it through, the only one who hasn’t yet is Simon. As you look behind you to see what’s happening, your eyes widen in horror. You see him on the floor with one of those grabbing onto one of his legs. He’s kicking frantically at it, trying to keep its jaws off of him. You all left your guns behind in the panic. You pat your holster for your pistol and pull it out. You aim at the snarling thing and fire. Except it doesn’t fall back. Your pistol clicks, making you realize it’s empty. You’re out of ammo. In a panic you rush over to him, and you see the rest of the horde also closing in on him. He looks at them and then at you. “No! Stay back! There’s too many, just go!” You shake your head as you ignore his orders. There’s still time. You notice that the creature’s bottom half is still inside the stairwell. You run over and slam the door shut as much as it can go. You can feel the other zombies crashing into the door you’re desperately trying to keep shut. Their hands reaching out and trying to grab at you and Simon. Some have their heads sticking out as they try to snap their jaws at you. You grimace in disgust.

Simon kicks harder but the damn thing is determined to stay on him. Not thinking straight, you push your leg out to shove it away. Revealing your leg as its new meal. It snaps its head to your leg shoving it back inside the stairwell and latches onto you. Simon quickly pulls his leg out as he watches it bite you. You rip your leg out of its mouth in pain. Simon helps you shut the door completely and barricades it. He looks at you and then at your leg. You look at your leg in more detail. A bite mark. You realize you’re going to be one of them. His eyes soften, “lovie…” he gently calls out. You snap your head to him before screaming out in anger, and frustration. You ran out of luck. The others can only look on in surprise. It all happened so fast. One minute you were fine and the next you’re going to turn into one of those.

Eventually, your screams of anguish die down and are instead replaced by sobs as you collapse to the floor of the roof. Simon immediately falls next to you and cradles you in his arms, trying his best to comfort you. A few tears of his own slip, aware of what's going to happen. He shushes you as he tries to get his words across, “everything will be fine. You’ll be okay. Nothing will happen.” He blurts out. You both know those are empty promises. Everything is far from fine, you won’t be okay, and you’ll turn into one of them. That’s the hard truth. But it does the trick, it stops your mind from going into overdrive and his voice is calming you down. You sigh, “Simon. You promised at the start of this shitshow.” You softly say. He shakes his head, he knows what you are getting at. You promised when this all started that if one of you is going to turn the other would kill the one who’s compromised before fully turning.

“Not yet, please lovie. I can’t.” He clutches onto you. You look at him sadly. It isn’t easy for both of you. “I don’t want to become one of them. Please, Simon, do it for me.” He looks at you, tears soaking his balaclava. The rest of the group surrounds you both. They all look at you sadly. They're used to seeing people bit and turn, but it never was one of their own. You give them a small smile, “make it back for me, okay boys.” You look at Simon, “leave a light on for me? I’ll visit you. I promise.” He lets out a watery chuckle and frowns, “I’ll leave a light on for you.” He confirms. He pulls off his balaclava, showing his face to you. You smile, “there’s the handsome face I know and love.” You caress his jaw. He smiles sadly at you. He leans down to your face. Soon his lips meet yours as you share your last intimate moment. He pulls away and looks at the bite mark on your leg. Which is already swelling, black veins starting to spread, and your skin turning a purplish color. You smile at him, ready to go. “It’s time, love.” He shakes his head once more. You frown, not wanting to see him like this. You hear the barricade failing on the door, they’ll burst through any minute. The others noticed as well. “Simon we have to go…” Johnny voices out, handing his pistol to him. Knowing he doesn’t have his on him. Simon takes it shakily and looks at you, “I can’t leave you here.” You squeeze his hand, “it’s alright. They won’t hurt me anymore.” He lets out a shaky sigh but nods. He points the pistol to your forehead. A quick death, he’ll be damned if he lets you suffer. You nod at him, “I love you, Simon.” He smiles at you, tears falling. You close your eyes, “I love you too, lovie. Always.” The shot rings out as your body slumps forward.

He catches your limp body, ignoring the blood soaking his vest, and rests you in a corner so that you won’t be disturbed. He takes your dog tags off of you and puts it around his neck. He takes your pistol as well. It’s empty, but at least he’ll have something of yours that he can kill those bastards with, in your stead. He looks at you one last time before the door gets pushed down. “We have to leave!” John notifies the others. Simon follows as they make their way down the fire escape. Once they’re safely on the ground, they catch their bearings and march their way to the base.

Hours later, the dark blanket of the night conceals them. They’re met at the gate by soldiers who look at them surprised. Showing them that Shepherd has sealed their deaths. Anger courses through Simon’s veins. Once they’re checked and let through, Simon wastes no time to storm over to Shepherd’s office. He bursts through the door and glares at the man. Shepherd is surprised to see him, alive and well. “You!” Simon seethes. Shepherd looks at him, unbothered. “You made it out after all.” Simon raises an eyebrow, “you left us to die! You told me you were going to attempt! That’s why we waited, you bastard!” He roars in anger. This time Shepherd raises an eyebrow, “you all made it out no?” He can feel his eye twitch at his question. “She is dead because you couldn’t make a rescue effort in the first place.” He seethes in a low voice. He continues, “we could’ve all made it out if you could’ve just said you weren’t going to make an effort on day 1. You lost one of your best soldiers and you are solely to blame.” He says coldly. Shepherd nods, “if you’re done blaming me you can leave, Simon.” His eyes have a fire in them, “you can not call me that!! It is and always will be Ghost to you!” He yells. He has so many more insults to say to his face, but he does not feel like getting executed now. He has a promise to fulfill for you. He storms out of the office and walks to his room. He slams the door shut, throws his pack across the room, and sits on the floor. Not bothering to sit on the bed or by his desk.

Eventually, he gets up to grab a candle. He puts it by the window as he sits at his desk. He grabs his lighter from his pocket and sets the candle alight. “Hope you can see this from wherever you are, lovie.” He says to no one. Wishing you could hear him. He grabs his journal and sets it on his desk. He stares at it for a moment. He slams his palm on the desk, rattling the whole thing and everything resting on it. The loss of you dawned on him. He rests his head in his hands as tears start falling again. He cries it out, the flame illuminating his face, giving his tears a golden glow. Once he gathers himself he opens the journal and flips to a new page.

Day 114

I hope you are happier wherever you are than you were here. I’ll come see you in a few years. Until then, I’ll leave a light on for you at night. So you can always find your way back here. Rest well, my love. I love you, always.

- Simon

He draws his usual skull face next to his name, knowing you’ve always loved it. He flips a page back. Remembering you were writing something last time. What he sees makes new tears fall. He sees your little hawk next to his skull face and a message for him.

‘No matter what. If you leave a light on I will always come back to you, in this lifetime and the next. Even in the afterlife. I will come find you Simon Riley.’

Tears fall on his journal, staining the paper. But fortunately, none lands on your writing. He feels a cold air enveloping him. As if it’s hugging him. He thinks nothing of it. All he wants is you, in his arms. As he sobs he swears he hears your voice.

“I found you, love. I’m here now.”

[constant-mason24]

The Gut Feeling

Soap MacTavish x Reader

⚠️MODERN WARFARE THREE SPOILERS⚠️

Reader (Nicknamed Klepto for her scavenging skills) has a tendency to sense terrible events before they happen.

°•°•°•°•°

Klepto stood behind the others, leaning against a table full of weapons and gear. She wasn't listening as Laswell and Price spoke about whatever move they were making next, and her focus was suddenly brought back when Soap came and leaned up next to her.

"You good, lass?" He asked, quietly so they others wouldn't be interrupted. Klepto nods.

"Just thinking... Too much has been happening lately."

"Aye," MacTavish agreed with a sigh, moving his gaze to the others who were discussing some suspicious shipment at the moment. "The sooner we catch this bastard, the sooner I can rest easy."

"Same here." Klepto breathed. "I've got that feeling again."

"The stomach thing?" Soap raises a brow, looking over at the woman. "Like before Graves turned on us?"

"Exactly like that," She nods. "But twice as strong and it hasn't stopped for a week. I think something bads about to happen."

"We should let Price know."

"What good will that do? 'Hey, Cap. I don't feel so good, can I sit out this mission? No I know we need to kill this ultranationalist before he kills more civilians, but my tummy hurts.'" She elbowed Soap gently in the ribs, who pushed her back with the same amount of force.

"No, we should tell him you've got that... premonition again."

"Premonition?" Soap nods in response.

"That gut feeling of yours have saved my life quite a few times now. I know better than ignore your stomachaches."

"It's saved you?" Klepto asked, glancing st Price as he looked their way.

"Aye. It saved me in Las Almas. Twice. And in Chicago, and again in Verdansk." He lists them off on his fingers, about to speak again when Klepto waves her hand.

"But that doesn't mean Laswell and Price will just... what, stop everything? Because I seem to have an acute sense of danger?"

"They just might rethink their plans." Soap shrugs, clapping a hand on her shoulder and leading her towards the team. "Can't hurt to mention it."

Klepto just hums and nods, allowing MacTavish to lead her to the group. The conversation seemed to have lulled to a stop as they stepped into the circle.

"And what were you two discussing over there?" Price tilted his head, half teasing the pair. It was no secret they had a soft spot for each other.

"Klepto's sixth sense has been going haywire recently." Soap patted her shoulder before lowering hand. Ghost leans his head back with a slight nod, knowing full well about her 'sixth sense.' Everyone else just looked confused.

"She can always tell before something terrible is about to happen." Ghost grunts out, drawing the groups attention back to himself. "Took us a while to figure out that's what it meant. She's our very own canary in the coal mine."

"I just think something going to go wrong here. I can feel it. But I understand if that's not enough to act on, Captain." She nods at Price, trying to convey some kind of desperation in her eyes. "Still, I ask you not to take this lightly. I've never felt it this strongly before."

"We can't stop what's coming." Price shakes his head. "We can't afford to back out on this one. But we'll be especially careful, I can promise you that."

"I understand." She frowns. "This is too important."

"Right." Price went back to discussing the hacker Makarov had been working with. It seemed he was in London, and the taskforce was hoping to catch him this time...

°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The feeling was only getting worse. They were pushing through the train tunnel, Soap and Klepto following the Captain's lead. Between dodging fire from the Konni soldiers and the trains passing through every so often, Klepto was finding it hard to focus on anything happening.

The squad reached a point in the tunnel where the Konni men seemed to be staying in place. As they cleared the place, Soap pointed out that they were guarding a bomb, and Klepto's stomach did a flip.

"This is it!" She yelled, firing on an enemy and watching him bite the dust. "I feel it."

"I'll defuse the bomb. You two cover me!" Soap yelled sliding into place next to the bomb. More soldiers came from behind the team, and Price and Klepto laid down cover fire as Soap got to work on the bomb.

She planted herself right between Soap and the incoming troops, firing into the clouds of smoke that the enemy had popped. Soap called for Price to come help with the bomb, but Klepto didn't move from her post. She felt damn near nauseous now, the feeling only worsening as Ghost called through the radio.

Makarov was here. And he was closing in.

She back herself closer to the bomb, and her teammates with it. She focused all her attention on the tunnel ahead of her, trying to swallow down the feeling of illness climbing up her throat. Suddenly a shots rang out and a bullet slipped past Klepto- hitting Soap right on the plating.

Price tried to get Soap to return fire, but Soap argued he couldn't due to the bomb. Klepto took her place firing back at the enemy until it was clear and Price returned to the bomb.

Just as the two were about to defuse the bomb, footsteps and a gunshot came from behind Klepto, and she turned to see Soap falling to the ground as Makarov made a run for Price. One of Makarov's men fired at Klepto, and as she tried to hit them back, the bullet hit her shoulder and she went down.

Makarov tried to shoot Price, but as Klepto was recovering from her wound, so was Soap. MacTavish stood and leapt at Makarov with a knife, plunging it into the man's shoulder. Makarov grabbed Soap's arm, breaking it and raising his gun right to Soap's temple.

By this time, Klepto was on her feet, but she had lost her weapon. Still, she knew had to move, and she dropped her uninjured shoulder in front of her, charging at the man aiming at MacTavish.

Makarov's gun went off just before her hit the ground, and Klepto threw herself on top of the man. She landing punch after punch to his face before Makarov's soldiers reacted. One of them fired at her, hitting her right in the chest plate and knocking her off the man. As Makarov stood up, the second team suddenly came barreling behind them, shooting down the Konni.

The enemy took off running, and Gaz and Price ran quickly to the bomb. As much as they both wanted to give chase, defusing the explosive took priority.

The two cut the wires and the bomb deactivated, leaving Gaz with a sigh of relief. Captain Price seemed to take a moment before turning to Soap, Ghost, and Klepto.

Ghost was kneeling next to Soap's body, and Klepto sat with his head pulled into her lap. She had a piece of cloth ripped from a shirt held to his head, and Ghost moved his hand away from Soap's neck.

"Is he-?" Gaz asked, unable to finish his question.

"He's alive." Ghost breathed heavily. "Broken arm and a graze to his head, but he's alive."

"Thank fucking God." Price groaned, standing over the rest of the team. Gaz knelt down to put pressure on Klepto's shoulder, chastising her for ignoring her own wounds as she was losing blood.

"All stations- this is Bravo in the blind. Threat neutralized. Bomb is safe. Two WIA." Price huffed into his comms, as Gaz took Klepto's weight upon himself as he helped her stand.

"He's okay." She mumbled, feeling dizzy from blood loss. "He's okay."

"You won't be, if we don't get you medEVAC soon." Ghost grumbled, lifting Johnny up as well. Price led the way, gun raised as the rest of his team limped to freedom behind him.

[thedovesaredying]

Zombie!Ghost x F!Reader x John "Soap" MacTavish | Teaser

Synopsis: A little taste tester for you all of Ghoap x F!Reader with our bestest boyo, Zombie Ghost uwu. If y'all want any specific scenarios for this pairing then hit me up in the comments or ask box! If anyone wants to be added to a Zombie!Ghost taglist just ping me.

Words: 1,000~

Rating: NSFW (Only brief)

Warnings: Unedited. Mostly just suggestive except for the last few paragraphs. If anything else needs to be added please poke me!

Previous parts:

Smut Part 1

Smut Part 2

Reminder, this is an 18+ account!

Every couple of weeks you and Ghost meet up with the remaining members of the lieutenant’s squad outside of the large base they’ve set up for themselves. You trade supplies with one another and take some time to catch up with good friends. Surviving outside the safety of a survivor camp or base is difficult and having the opportunity to be in relative safety for a few hours is always appreciated.  

You can’t enter the base since the other survivors living there are, understandably, unwilling to share a space with one of the undead. Besides, waving around a bunch of fresh meat right before Ghost’s nose might not be the best idea. He tolerates the presence of his old captain and sergeant, Price and Gaz, and won’t cause them any trouble, but can and will attempt to tear apart anyone unknown.  

Typically, you don’t mind being unable to access the safe zones, you’ve learned over the months how to get by on your own, but you can’t help occasionally longing for the benefits of having access to a community. You miss having friends and family, people you can talk to since Simon isn’t exactly great at holding conversation anymore.  

You’re more than willing to make that sacrifice, however, as you could never abandon the person you love to the outside world just because you sometimes feel a little lonely.  

While Price and Gaz can spend time around Ghost without fear, but have little bearing on how the zombie behaves, Soap is a completely different story. The moment the mohawked man is spotted, your partner is already sprinting across the grass and either near enough tackling the other man to the ground or scooping him up as though the heavily muscled man weighs nothing.  

Ghost’s Johnny simply laughs at the enthusiasm, never hesitating to return the embrace and excitedly starting to talk his old lieutenant’s ear off. He only ever gets a grunt or growl in return for his rambling, but just that tiny response seems to be all Soap needs to hold a discussion.  

The zombie nuzzles his face into the crook of Johnny’s neck the same way he does with you, rumbling away happily, almost shaking with how eager he is to have his hands on his sergeant again. He’s like an excited puppy, panting and sniffing at the Scot’s face. He’ll insistently rub his cheek against Johnny to try and share scents, growling in annoyance whenever the other man attempts to get away.  

Today was no different, and as soon as Ghost saw poor Johnny he was set upon by the zombie, forced to wait several minutes while Simon noses at him. Ghost starts grumbling when he seems to realise that his sergeant no longer smells like him. Like always, he starts dragging the other man away from the base and toward you, pushing him at you with a pleased growl.  

He seems remarkably satisfied now that his two people are within grasping distance, herding the two of you away from the base as quickly as (in)humanly possible. You had agreed previously that Soap would join you and Ghost outside the base walls for a day or two to scavenge new resources.  

Of course, that wasn’t the only reason he was coming with the two of you.  

Originally, you hadn’t considered adding someone new to your relationship, if what you have with Ghost can still be called such, but Johnny slots into place like the missing piece of a puzzle. He’s handsome and kind and funny, with wit sharp as a knife. He’s perhaps the only person who adores Simon as much as you do.  

That affection extends to you, much to Ghost’s complete delight.  

When you aren’t searching for scraps to feed and clothe yourselves, your days together are spent curled up, bodies covered in a thick layer of sweat and other bodily fluids. The three of you make good use of the mattresses you’ve found and stashed away in your little safe house, and have broken the beds in many times over.  

It hurts whenever Johnny eventually has to return to the other survivors. He does important work there and wants to help his teammates, but you can see the way his eyes lose their normal brightness, leaving pools of murky grey in the place of their usual glistening blue.  

It’s heartbreaking watching Ghost stalking the massive walls of the camp, visibly distressed that he can no longer set eyes on the third member of your relationship that’s only just begun to blossom, despite this harsh environment in which it’s flourished. It always takes a fair amount of effort to drag him away from the walls and fences, forcing him to stop searching for a way inside.  

Simon has always had a fairly possessive streak, but his infection has only amplified it. You know that if he were to find a flaw in the barrier between him and the inside of the safe zone then he’d be in there tearing the place to pieces. The zombie doesn’t take kindly to people messing with what’s his.  

You want to bring it up with Johnny, but it’s a little difficult with his tongue currently down your throat. He’s desperate after weeks without either of you, his body pressing you up against the hard chest of Ghost while his hands roam across your skin underneath your shirt. Simon holds your body against him firmly, tongue gently rolling over the side of your neck, teeth dragging dangerously against your vulnerable flesh.  

He allows you to take a mouthful of air, your breathing ragged by the time Johnny’s fingers reach your nipples, giving them both a pinch. His lips are immediately back on yours again, swallowing the surprised sound you make.  

While Soap focuses on caressing your breasts, another set of hands start to slide down your body, snaking into your pants. Although Ghost’s motor skills have deteriorated, he’s still more than capable of seeking out your clit, circling it gently while his other hand dips between your folds to gather the slick steadily gathering between them.  

The sound that draws out of you has Johnny grinning against your mouth. “Ye like tha’, bonnie?” he breathes against your ear, hot air causing goosebumps to appear all down your arms, “we’ll make sure ye feel real good.”  

You’re pretty sure you won’t be doing any walking after this.

[khagihan2000]

-Things that we enjoyed @intro-v Song: Super Trouper - ABBA List of comprehensible films, and shows (I think forgot something when edit, my braincells...): - Entergalactic - Sing 2 - Arcane - Infinity Train - I Lost My Body - Legend of Vox Machina - Central Park - Kipo Oak and The Age of Wonderbeast - Archer - Harriet the Spy - Hit-Monkey - The House - The Second Best Hospital in the Galaxy - Carmen Sandiego - Invincible - Mortal Kombats Legend - Inside Job - Young Justice - Seis Manos - Pantheon - Golgo 13 - Giant Robo - Getter Robo Arc - Redline - I Lost My Body - Nomad of Nowhere - Villainous - Scott Pilgrim Take Off - Twelve Forever - My Adventure with Superman - Dead End - Black Dynamite - Arlo the Alligator Boy - JJBA: Stone Ocean - X Men'97 - Captain Laserhawk - Ramshackle - Aggretsuko - Lastman - Pluto - Ballmastrz 9009 - The Ghost and Molly McGee - Hailey On It - Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur - The World Can't Tear Me Down - Tales of Alethrion - Dog In Space - Hilda - Smiling Friends - Cyberpunk Edgerunner - Trick Moon - Centaurworld - Emesis Blue - Hit Monkey - Harley Quinn - Invincible - Green Eggs and Ham: The Second Serving - Sonic Mania Adventures - OK KO - ROTMNT - Glitchtechs - Cupheads - Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse - Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse - Legend of Vox Machina - Love Death + Robot - Amphibia - The Owl House - Regular Show - Close Enough - Futurama - Agent Elvis - Helluva Boss - Hazbin Hotel - Mystery Skulls - Nimona - Wolfwalker - The Amazing Digital Circus - Lackadaisy - Murder Drones - Bees and Puppycat - Adventure Time: Fionna and Cake - Super Mario Bros - Bad Guys - Beastar - Ramshackle - GiTS - Ranking of King - Odd Taxi - The Summit of God - Wolfboy - Big City Greens - Gumball - Metalocalypse - Venture Bros - Sonic Prime - Sonic X - Paprika - Castlevania - Castlevania Nocture - Blue Eyed Samurai - Star Trek Lower Deck - Final Space - Cleopatra in Space - Undone - City Hunter - Lupin the First - Lupin Zero - Lupin X Cat Eyes - Craig of the Creeks - Summer Camp Island - Primal - Scavenger Reign - Bob's Burger - Kid Cosmic - Unicorn: Warrior Eternals

[haveatthee83]

Under My Skin (Monkey D. Luffy/Reader) 5/7

Inspo: Under My Skin by Jukebox the Ghost

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Word Count: ~2.0k

Warnings: Fluff, cursing, discussion of death and dead relatives, brief descriptions of peril.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Time passed and it seemed that you and Luffy had turned over to a new chapter together, a new little dance. This was clearly noted by the other Straw-Hats, after all a tension was there, a new kind that was clear to them what it was, but it flew right over your heads, making all of them ready to pull their hair out at times with how oblivious you two were.

You all were docked at an island that was said to have been a rest spot for Gol D. Roger, hoping to find clues to where he may have hidden the One Piece. It wasn’t populated and it only had one little beachside shack that you and Robin were put in charge of searching.

You were sat on an old, dusty couch, sifting through an ancient, wooden crate full of notebooks when Robin spoke up from her position at the bookshelf. “So, you and Luffy, huh?” she said cheekily, flipping through an astronomy book.

You felt heat rise to your face, biting at your cheeks, “I don’t know what you mean.” You said, sitting a little straighter than before.

Robin smirked, eyeing you over the brim of her book, “You have a little crush on our captain, don’t you?” she sing songed, flipping the page. You spluttered and scrambled to try and find words to retort, but you came up short, “It’s okay if you do.” She hummed. “It’s not against any rules here.”

You felt red hot as you spoke, “It wouldn’t matter if I did or not, I highly doubt he’d even consider thinking about me that way.” You said simply, sifting through a notebook full of inventory logs.

Robin frowned, “How do you know?” she asked, affirmed by your shrug, “Exactly. He’s a very unique kind of man, very unpredictable. He may just surprise you.”

“Or I could be right, and if I ever made a move, it’d go horribly and he’d hate my guts again, he might even feel so strongly about it that he’d have no choice but to maroon me.” You muttered quickly, avoiding Robin’s piercing gaze.

“You have so little faith in him?” she asked pointedly. “No.” you sighed, “He’s so nice and great, and he’s just like the sweetest guy, but…” you trailed off until Robin urged you to continue, “I’m me. I’m abrasive, I’m way too brutal half the time for such a nice guy, I mean…Does someone with this much blood on their hands deserve someone like that? I can’t bring myself to think so.” You said, making Robin’s frown deepen.

Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji were scavenging around the island’s vegetation looking for clues, food, or an adventure. “So,” Zoro droned suddenly, “You and glass girl, huh?”

Sanji and Luffy stopped in their tracks, Sanji kicking at Zoro’s shin, “You have no tact.” He hissed as Zoro waved him off.

Luffy cocked his head to the side a bit, “What’re you talking about?”

Sanji sighed, “What moss head over here is trying to insinuate is that you and our lovely crewmate might…have romantic feelings for each other?” He said carefully, trying to find just the right words.

Luffy’s face went red, all the way to his ears, “I don’t think so.” He said, fiddling with his hat string. “She probably likes one of you.” Luffy sighed, kicking at the dirt under his feet.

Sanji and Zoro shared a look, breaking into deep belly laughs, remembering the conversation they’d had at your house, “Not a chance dude!” Zoro laughed out, clapping Luffy’s shoulder, “She made that clear since day one.”

“What do you mean?” the pirate captain asked, brows knit together.

“When we were all at her house, the cook tried to make a move on her like he always does,” Zoro started, “and she shut him down hard.” He managed through his laughter.

Sanji’s laughter had died down, now just a goofy smile on his face, “She says we’re too old and not her ‘type’.” He said, “You wanna know what her type is?” he asked.

Luffy shrugged and nodded, holding his arms close to his body.

“Funny brunettes.” The other two chimed together.

Zoro poked Luffy in the shoulder, “She specifically said like you.” He teased, noting the cherry red cheeks of his captain.

Luffy felt like the whole island just went up in temperature by like twenty degrees, “O-oh.” He muttered, shaking his head as he said, “I doubt it though, I mean I was mean to her for a while at first, I doubt she’d look past that.”

Sanji rolled his eyes, slinging an arm around his captain’s shoulders, “We saw you two dancing on your birthday, you know?” Sanji said pointedly, Zoro nodding along, “You both looked awful comfy all up on each other like that.” The cook said, watching Luffy hide his face in his hands, embarrassed. “It’s nothing to be all flustered about.”

“Yeah, I mean, you two have been making goo goo eyes at each other ever since.” Zoro chided.

Sanji nodded, “And she’s been looking at you like that for even longer.” He said, “I’m pretty damned sure that she really likes you.”

Luffy let his hands flop to his sides, his face still burning, “You think so?”

Sanji and Zoro shared a look, “We know so.” The chimed.

You continued looking through the ship logs in silence, Robin still searching at the bookshelf. Your eyes were starting to haze over when they landed on something. You gasped and snatched the notebook up, startling Robin. You quickly flipped through the pages with a wide smile, “This has their routes! It’s all verbal but it’s where all they docked and what channels and obstacles they encountered. Robin,” you exclaimed, shooting to your feet, “this might have where to find the One Piece, or at least the poneglyphs.” You said, your eyes sparkling.

Robin smiled, “Go find Nami or Luffy and show them. I’ll keep sifting through things in here, see if there’s any more valuable information.” She said, shooing you out of the rickety door.

You immediately tore your way over the sand, dashing into the thicket. You pounded through the trees, dodging stray branches and roots, “LUFFY! LUFFY, I FOUND SOMETHING!” you hollered into the trees. You heard a brief call from your left, so you immediately started rushing that way.

Luffy heard you yelling through the vegetation and called back out, trying to tell you where he is. The trio were all turning around, trying to see which direction you were coming from. “Oof!” Luffy landed straight on his back, only processing what happened when he landed. You had run directly into him and knocked him over, now you were hovering right over him, heaving with a smile.

“I found something!” You breathed out, sitting back on your haunches, a little black book in your hands, “This book,” you started as Luffy pulled himself up a bit, holding himself up with his arms behind him, “has Roger’s route through the Grand Line. This might show us the path to follow so we can find the One Piece!” You exclaimed, practically shaking with excitement. Luffy beamed, throwing his arms around your neck and pulling you into a hug.

“Holy shit.” Zoro muttered, turning to Sanji, “We might actually be close to finding it.” He whispered, an astonished cook nodding as the only form of acknowledgment he’d offered.

You pulled back from the hug, standing up, hoisting Luffy up with you, “Where’s Nami? I wanna get this to her as soon as possible.” You asked, dusting yourself off a bit.

“She’s on the ship,” Zoro muttered, “I can take it to her,” he said, holding his hand out for the book.

“Hold on, marimo!” Sanji exclaimed, snatching the book out of his grasp, “You’d get lost before you find her.” He insisted, starting to walk toward the ship.

Zoro scoffed, “I don’t get lost!” he exclaimed, following close behind the cook.

You and Luffy were left alone in the woods, “You ready?” you asked quietly, reaching out and grabbing Luffy’s hand in your own.

“For what?” he asked, eyes locked on yours.

“Are you ready to be king?” you whispered, a massive smile pulling at your lips. “Monkey D. Luffy, King of the Pirates.” You said softly, trying it out on your tongue.

Luffy chuckled, starting to play with your fingers, “I think so.” He muttered, “Are you ready to be on the crew of the King of the Pirates?” he jeered through laughter.

Your smile was blinding as you beamed up at him, “Absolutely.” You said firmly. “Now c’mon, let’s see what else we can find.” You said, leading him in a new direction.

“Maybe Roger left a bit of-Woah!” you were cut off as the floor dropped out from under you. The island had booby traps. You were dangling from your hold on Luffy’s hand, trying to find footing against the damp earth of the hole’s walls. “What the fuck?” you exclaimed, and you could feel your hand slipping out of Luffy’s.

“Hold on!” he said. He chanced a look to the bottom of the hole, looking for spikes or something, only to blanch a bit. It was a bit worse depending on who you asked. The bottom was filled with seawater, and he couldn’t tell how deep it was, “Don’t let go!” Luffy commanded, stretching his free arm up to wrap around a tree, trying to use it as leverage to pull you out.

You dangled, kinda useless as you struggled to find any grip on anything really. “Maybe you can just drop me then grab the others and help me out then!” you suggested.

Luffy shook his head with wide eyes, “Seawater at the bottom.” he said as he started trying to pull you up, every muscle in his arm straining. It was much less a struggle because of you, and entirely because his feet kept slipping out from under him. “Shit.” He spat under his breath.

You swallowed a bit of fear at the pool of water under you, you held firm onto Luffy’s hand and used it as leverage to swing your free hand up, grabbing tightly onto Luffy’s forearm. “Reel yourself in!” you exclaimed, letting out a slightly manic laugh at your captain’s confused expression, “I’m like a damned fish! Your arm is the line! Reel your line in!” you shouted.

Luffy tightened his hold and tried pulling you both toward the tree, just using his arm, letting his feet drag under him. Eventually, you were high enough to reach a muddy hand out and grip the grass at the top, helping Luffy drag you up out of the hole.

You landed on the grass with a huff, adjusting your hat and laying right next to where Luffy fell on his back. His head was at your hip and vice versa. You wheezed a laugh and clapped a muddy hand on his abdomen, “Thanks, Cap!” Luffy waved you off, trying to catch his breath. You both sat up after a moment, and you took in how muddy you both really were with a sigh, “God damn, we need baths.” You muttered.

Luffy had caught his breath, but his heart kept beating wildly in his chest, “Don’t scare me like that.” He scolded.

You smiled softly and reached your hand up, moving his hair out of his eyes before resting your palm on his cheek, apologizing, and in that moment, Luffy saw what the guys had been talking about. The way you two looked at each other. The realization struck through Luffy like a lightning bolt, and he couldn’t think before he was grabbing your face and guiding your lips to his.

You gasped, making Luffy pull back for fear of upsetting you, “Sorry, I just-!” you cut off his worried rambling with a beaming smile, drawing him back in for another sweet kiss, your lips moving together a bit awkwardly, but neither of you minded. Luffy reached a hand up and threaded it through your hair at the back of your head, drawing you ever closer, and you held his face in your hands, smiling into the kiss.

Luffy pulled away just far enough to rest his forehead against yours, looking deep into your eyes, “You ever wanted to be a queen?” he muttered, eyes only leaving yours to flit down to your lips.

You smiled wide and laughed a bit, “I can work with that,” you whispered, pulling him back in for a kiss.

That night, you and Luffy sat on the lawn deck, his head in your lap, you were playing with his hair, twirling it around your fingers. You were humming softly as you both watched the stars, and Luffy recognized it as the slow song you played him on his birthday, making him smile.

“Fucking finally.” Zoro whispered, Sanji and Robin watching the scene with him. “I was this close to locking them in a broom closet.” He said, pinching his fingers together.

Robin chuckled softly, but Sanji frowned and shook his head, “I’m glad they figured things out,” Robin said, “Even if it took explicitly telling them.” The men laughed quietly, “Should I ask Franky to make them their own room?” she asked cheekily.

Zoro glowered, “If I walk in on them doing anything I think I’ll jump overboard.” He said, Sanji nodding along.

“I’ll tell him to make some plans, but I won’t have him do anything until they ask.” She decided, nodding resolutely. “Why don’t you and Franky have a room?” Zoro asked bluntly, ignoring Sanji’s kick to his shins.

The boys were surprised to see a very slight blush rise to the woman’s cheeks, “Who needs one when he has his own workshop.” She said bluntly, walking away immediately after.

Zoro and Sanji looked at each other in horror, “I’ve definitely gone in there without knocking before.” Zoro muttered.

“Am I the only one around here who can’t get any damned action?” Sanji whisper yelled.

Luffy stirred in your lap, reaching up a hand to thread his fingers with yours, “You make me happy.” He muttered, holding your hand over his chest.

You smiled and looked down at him, “You make me happy.” You said, drawing his hand in yours up, pressing his knuckles to your lips before letting them fall back to where Luffy had held them. “Now,” you said cheekily, biting back laughter, “Which one of us is gonna acknowledge your brother definitely celebrating in whatever pirate heaven he ended up in.” you said, the giggles leaking out, “And how pissed mine probably is right next to him.”

Luffy laughed quietly, reaching his free arm around your torso, still holding your hand with the other, “I swear, if he got any of his other stupid guesses right, I’m gonna freak out.” He warned jokingly.

You flushed and bit your lips, “We’ll just have to see.” You chimed, drawing Luffy’s face up to yours, whispering against his lips, “I mean, he can’t be all right. After all, you don’t have three years till you find that One Piece.” You said cheekily before pressing your lips together. Luffy chuckled into the kiss, tangling his hand into your hair.

[gwaedhannen]

[Excerpt from Sorrow Beyond Words: Collected Testimony of the War of Wrath, 2nd Edition; ed. Elrond Peredhel. Armenelos Royal Library, copy received SA 870]

“When we retook what must’ve been Nargothrond—with barely any fuss, mind you; only the dumbest and most desperate orcs wanted to stay near that dragon-stench—the one thing I remember most was the silence. The caverns stretched on and on and on; hall after hall after kitchen after dormitory after garden stretching into the hills. Not a soul in sight but us. Not a ghost but the ones we made up in our heads, to try and give the emptiness reason. Merynn whispered to me, afterwards, that there’d once been a hundred thousand elves living there. I’ve never had a head for numbers, so I can’t say if that’s the truth or not. But looking at that hollow city, and thinking of how few elves there were on Balar before the Host of the West arrived…you can’t help but feel sad. It was never supposed to be so silent. So dead. Wasn’t right.

“The High King—the Western one—was there, with one of the Vanyar captains—don’t recall her name, but she had a fierce spear-arm, and a singing voice like a warm hearth. They slipped away from the other scavenging parties while no-one was watching. Must’ve been looking for something. When they came back, we all politely pretended not to notice they’d been crying. I don’t think they found what they were searching for.”

[angelkitty54]

Sonic Prime AU time! (coz this has been everywhere in the last month or so.) Basically just some ideas I had for shatterverse versions of Sonic and Shadow, set after the end of the series.

New Yoke City: Based on the idea in SA2 where it's kinda implied Sonic was also made on the Ark like Shadow (which is never brought up again). Basically Nine stumbles across a pod that contains the New Yoke version of Sonic (Spirit) and excitedly wakes him up. However he quickly finds that this is not the Sonic he met before; Spirit has never been out of his bio-tank thingy before, he is basically a newborn in a full grown body, with the mentality of a newborn too. Spirit is a wide-eyed innocent child, sweet, kind and trusting, a stark contrast to the world around him and the people in it. Nine is having a hard time adjusting, especially since Spirit's keeps chewing on all his power cables. He is also constantly being accused of having cloned Sonic. Which he totally did not! He found this Sonic fair and square thank you very much!

Meanwhile, having lost their power source, the Chaos Council has lost a lot of ground to the resistance. In searching for new power sources and weapons, they discover Project Umbra (three guess who this is). Umbra leans a little more into his alien side than Shadow does, he is also less of an angsty teen and more of a scared, grieving child lashing out at a world that hurt him. He agrees to work for the council only due to the distant family connection, but he doesn't particularly like them or care about their goals. He just wants to see the world burn. Of course, things change when he finds out his baby brother survives the raid on the Ark. Tho he is not particularly happy about this strange fox hanging around, acting all buddy buddy with Umbra's brother. Ugh, the nerve of that guy!

Boscage Maze: Got inspiration from movies like Nausicaa and Origin: Spirits of the Past. So the instead of the prism, the massive jungle was actually caused by a bio-experiment gone wrong which set off an apocalypse. There are effectively three groups of survivors, those that escaped into space (mainly GUN people), those that survived on the surface (whose descendants became groups like the scavengers) that live more or less in harmony with the jungle, and those that made it into underground shelters and were put into stasis chambers where they have slept for several hundred years. The latter two group are often at odds with each other, one wanting their old world back, the other wanting the jungle to stay as is. Dr Nightshade Robotnik and his assistant, Sunny, are among the stasis group.

In this universe Gerald went down the road of cybernetics as well as genetic engineering when creating his Ultimate Lifeform, Nightshade. Their Maria got to live her life to it's fullest, becoming a scientist like her grandfather. Nightshade also dedicated his life to science, wanting to follow Maria's dreams of making the world a better place, even after she passed away. Sunny benefited from their research, as it's thanks to their work into cybernetics that he is able to walk (and run) again. Upon waking in the post-apocalyptic world, Dr Nightshade has made it his mission to find out what caused the plants to grow out of control and hopefully reverse the effects. Sunny, someone who sees the benefits of both the old and new world, hopes that he can help the good Doctor find balance between the natural and mechanized worlds. Meanwhile GUN is up to something rather suspicious up there in space...

No Place Sea: Yay pirate AU!! Honestly didn't have a lot of ideas beyond just pirates tho... Shadow is Captain Blackheart and is like super duper cursed. He is captain of a ghost ship, whose crew is also super cursed and/or undead. All save a single member, his navigator Tempest (Sonic), who is immune to the effects curses due to him being half siren. Tempest does not speak much as his voice is imbued with the charming power of a siren, which he lacks much control over. He has a knack for reading the winds and currents making him an ideal navigator in treacherous waters. He is both drawn to and fears the water, as something in those dark depths keeps calling to him, eager to drag him down down down into darkness... However he can't bring himself to stay away despite the danger, and luckily whatever is hunting him seems to steer clear of the ghost ship. In exchange for shelter aboard his ship, Tempest is helping Blackheart track down and decode ancient sea charts that will lead them to a great treasure he's been hunting. One said to be able to grant wishes: the chaos emeralds!

[skylarsblue]

✦Soldier, Poet, King, Lord. ✦

(I had this idea for awhile as a little blurb. I could draw it, but I don’t have the patience. I wrote this with a headache so it’s not great but I hope you’ll be okay with it anyway) ✧Blurb, GN!reader, They/Them used, no Y/N, random callsign✧

Gaz lifted his head as he entered the common area, listening to some faint singing and some even quieter music. He leaned in carefully and looked around, eyes falling on his teammate. Their sniper, having joined the task force months prior. They had proved themselves quite capable and likable in a short span of time. Kind, strong willed, gently spoken and a good listener. Captain liked that most about them. Johnny liked their creativity, often sharing doodles and ideas for tattoos. Simon…well, he was an enigma, but it was safe to say he liked the new member now. Gaz certainly did.

He crossed his arms and leaned in the doorway, watching them make a cup of tea whilst singing to a song on the phone. He realized that he’d heard it before, they often hummed this tune when things felt too quiet. Occasionally, they could be heard quietly mumbling the lyrics when pulling an all-nighter. Johnny gave them a nickname based on it, and eventually tried to brainstorm call signs for the sniper. Throwing ideas back and forth. Lyre, harpy, songbird. The last one stuck around but was too long for a callsign. It was actually Price that landed on one.

Suddenly, the sniper was Siren.

It was certainly fitting, their voice was rather pleasant. Gaz had fallen asleep to it more than once, much to his embarrassment. He smiled as he listened to them pour the tea. He waited for them to set the kettle down before clearing his throat, startling them. “Jesus! Gaz, you prick, you scared the hell out of me.” Siren sighed, resting a hand over their chest, feeling their beating heart. Kyle chuckled and approached while giving an apology, raising his hands. He watched them add a single spoon of sugar, stirring it. “Good timing though, I finished your cup, it’s still warm.”

Gaz took his specific cup from their hand. Siren had insisted everyone had designated mugs, bought some themselves. Gaz was a forest green with a little cartoon owl on it. They insisted it was fitting for him.

“You’re smart, swift, and deceivingly approachable. People won’t see the danger coming. Plus the flying thing…”

He smiled and took it, sipping the beverage. It was coffee, not tea, and perfectly made to his tastes. It always warmed his soul when Siren remembered something so small about him. About all of them. “Thanks, dove. Those three for the rest of’em?” He asked as he motioned to three more cups, all sporting a specific animal. Siren always enjoyed using metaphors and symbols to represent people, a large sign of their creative side.

Ghost’s was black, sporting a cat with an angry expression. “Because he’s an introvert. Stealthy and sneaky, and dangerous.” Soap had received a red squirrel on a deep blue cup, which he’d managed to chip the edge of within a week of having it. “A small and feisty scavenger.” That was all Siren had said to explain it, which made the team laugh at Soap’s offense at the “small” comment. And the orange cup filled with the strongest, most bitter cup of coffee, displayed a fluffy bear. Siren had given it wordlessly, and when John have a questioning look, they moved on. Refusing to elaborate.

“The guys are getting done with sparring. Captain went pretty hard on Ghost & Soap, tea will probably make’em feel better.” Gaz praised. Siren grabbed their phone and paused the song. “I hope so, you all have been working so hard.” They smiled. Kyle waved his hand dismissively as he took another sip of his coffee. “Oh hush.” They laughed in reply. “I mean it! You guys really deserve a break.” This was something the rest of the team also enjoyed about their most recent teammate. The selflessness they showed, trying their best to make everything easier for those around them. It didn’t go unnoticed.

Siren went to speak again before their phone buzzed loudly. Kyle bit back a snicker as they juggled them device a bit from being startled, thankfully, they caught it. “Ah shit! I can’t stay to chat with you guys, the medic needs my help with some soldiers. Just make sure they get their cups before the drinks go cold, yeah?” Kyle reassured them he would and wished them luck, watching them sprint away.

Kyle sat and waited for the other three men to arrive. But as he waited, he finally noticed a closed book on the counter. A sketchbook. He’d seen Siren using it every now and then. He wasn’t intending to snoop, really, he wasn’t even thinking that much when he slid the book over to him. He opened it and scanned the first page, full of random doodles. Most of the pages were random sketches, some of landscapes, some of objects, a few that he recognized as tattoo designs Siren had proudly shown.

It was toward the middle that Gaz found a sketch of himself. A 3/4 profile of his face. He recognized the moment instantly. After a long mission coming back from a safe house in Siberia, they were picked up in a military issued truck. Gaz spent most of the time staring out the window at the rolling hills covered in snow. Kyle set the cup down and rested his chin on his hand, flipping the page. He found more sketches of his teammates. A bust profile of Soap with a large grin. A sketch from the waist up of their Lieutenant with his arms crossed. Kyle snorted at the drawing of Price, drawn in his typical ‘dad pose’, where he’d lean back and cross his arms.

Siren seemed to draw a lot of inspiration from their team and their life in combat. It was rather flattering, in all honesty. Kyle was so focused he almost missed the sounds of Soap, Ghost, and Price entering the common room. John was first to spot the cups on the counter, gunning for his. “Siren make these?” He asked before taking a drink, Kyle nodded. “What’cha lookin’ at, mate?” Soap asked as he sat beside the pilot, awkwardly stretching to grab his own mug. Simon grabbed his own, but he didn’t remove his mask to drink it, even if they had seen his face before.

“Siren left their sketchbook. Look, they’ve drawn us.” Kyle turned the book to show a page full of doodles of their faces. “Wow…” Soap said softly. “Certainly make my beard look better than it really is.” John complimented. Ghost tilted his head to better look at the pencil marks, gaze softening as he scanned the page. Soap reached for the book and turned the page. These set of drawings were different, and it caught the team’s eye particularly. “That’s Simon and I, yeah? Look like we walked outta fantasy show.” Soap commented as he looked closer. These drawings were more stylized. Johnny & Simon drawn in fantastical clothes and armor. The next page was the designs again, but this time with more movement. Showing both men back to back, Ghost with a sword, Soap with a molotov set ready to throw. “Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Johnny laughed. Gaz narrowed his gaze at the text on the page, carefully written in swirly handwriting.

“There will come a soldier who carried a mighty sword…” A familiar line situated by Simon’s head.

“He will tear your city down. Oh lei, oh lai, oh lord…” The line finished by Soap.

Kyle blinked and tapped the words. “These words, it’s the lyrics to that song they sing all the time!” He stated. It seemed to jog the memory of the rest of them. Price chuckled and looked at Soap & Ghost with a grin. “Suppose you’re the soldiers then. Soap’s certainly torn down some cities.” He commented. Kyle turned the page again and found himself once more, donning medieval fantasy clothing. Scrolls littered around him with a quill in hand, a book in the other. He dabbled in creative writing, mostly in high school. Very rarely did he ever share it with anyone however. But when he was stressed, feeling overwhelmed and in need of an outlet, he would write. He remembered being rather embarrassed when Siren accidentally found a poem he’d slapped together after a mission. Though, they weren’t judgmental, they’d been encouraging actually. But he didn’t think they’d truly remember it.

“There will come a poet who’s weapon is his word, he will slay you with his tongue. Oh lei, oh lai, oh lord…”

“Poet huh? You do like your words and metaphors, Gaz.” Simon said. Kyle flipped him off but it was all light hearted. He lingered on the drawing, unable to prevent himself from smiling. John continued to casually drink his coffee, but he wasn’t expecting himself on the next page. Dressed in robes, settled on a throne with a cigar, a crown boldly placed on his skull. With the second page once again showing this design more in depth. Crown fallen on the ground with a sword in hand, graphite smudged meant to express grime and blood. A stern and calculated look on his face.

“There will come a ruler who’s brown is laid in thorn. Smeared with oil like David’s boy, oh lei, oh lai, oh lord…”

It clearly meant a lot to their teammate, what the song represented and the team’s dynamic as a whole. So much so that it inspired them. The sentiment wasn’t lost on the four men either. Hence why Soap stole two pages of their sketchbook to make his own addition, taking suggestions from Ghost, Price, and Gaz as he drew Siren. Going away from the lyrics. They didn’t draw attention to it, making sure to leave the sketchbook in the place Siren had left it. Allowing for the sniper to pick it up before they went to bed. There was very little time to relax between errands, training, and missions. So, naturally, when lights out was called, Siren took out their pencil and book.

Humming their favorite song as they flipped past the pages. Breath catching in their throat. An image of themselves in Johnny’s drawing style, distinct from their own, but mimicking the layout they had. Decorated in flowing cloth and extravagant jewelry. Almost omnipresent. They knew the words weren’t written by Soap, the handwriting was too clean for that.

“There will come the lord, gently made on a battlefield. Oh lei, oh lai, oh love.”

[scoobydoobaday]

The New Scooby-Doo Movies S02E02 - The Haunted Showboat (1973) Hanna Barbera Productions

[seraphimcollections]

gentle giant | ch.2 | Konig x medic!reader

warnings: mild nudity, typical COD violence, gun violence, blood, angst.

summary: the truth of what's got the 141 on the run and now KorTac involved comes to light and is slowly catching up with you.

Callsign is Wren.

Words: 3.3

a/n: I am...so sorry. I'm not dead, and this series is still going, I just haven't had the time to post. Sorry for the long wait!

| masterlist |

Grub time went as expected. Well, almost. You and the rest of the 141 sat at their own table, KorTac all sat at their own. Once you had grabbed your tray, you blinked in shock as Konig went to leave the cafeteria. You grabbed his sleeve, asking where he was going. He sent you a nervous look. 

“I usually eat on my own, you know,” he pointed at his hood. “It’s more private.” 

You felt stupid for not piecing together on your own. Of course he’d want to eat on his own, he wouldn’t want people to see his face. You should’ve known, Ghost was the same way. All you could do was watch as Konig bent his head down as he passed through the doorway, disappearing from view.

“Oi, Wren! Over ‘er!” Soap called from across the cafeteria.

You finally tore your gaze from the door, walking over to your squad all huddling around one table -- well, minus Price, who must have been dealing with more important matters. The man constantly stayed two steps ahead, and he wasn’t too uptight to let you know. You had to keep in check sometimes, “doctor’s orders.” 

You placed your tray on the metal table, sliding on to the bench next  to Soap and Gaz. 

“‘Bout time you showed up, Gaz, heard you got lost,” you smirked. 

“Huh, I wonder what birdie is spreading that rumor?” Gaz said sarcastically, casting a glance toward Soap who sent him a winning smile. 

“You boys got settled in fine?” You said, beginning to pick at your food. 

“Yeah, got bunked with Soap because Ghost didn’t wanna share,” Gaz grumbled. 

Ghost grunted making you giggle, “you actually thought Ghost would share? Come now, you should know better than that.” 

“How about you, love? You seem to have settled in just fine, having that big oaf following you around,” Soap said, cocking a brow. 

Your expression softened slightly, “Konig is…nice.” 

“So he told his name,” Gaz hummed. 

“Nice?” Ghost said, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. 

You cast him a look but was quick to divert from his piercing gaze. 

“Well, he’s quiet, but harmless,” you shrugged. 

Ghost continued to bore into you, “there is nothing harmless about that man.” 

“No one is in this line of work, lass,” Soap said midchew. 

“Anyway,” you said, eager to change the subject, “when are we moving out?” 

“Soon,” Ghost said, “the Captain is ironing out the details with Laswell, trying to keep this within as tight a circle as possible.” 

“Much appreciated,” you said, your expression becoming solemn. 

There was no escaping it. You were running from the devil himself and all his shadows. You remember it clearly.

You were scavenging for supplies in the small town the task force had cleared out of men who swore their allegiance to Ghohbrani and to his lackey Hassan Zyani. You were running low on the essentials, the fight becoming trickier than the team originally thought. Nonetheless, you all made it out in one piece but you still needed at least antiseptic to stop infection. You kept your gun out of its holster, carefully making your way through the tiny house. You made your way up the creaky stairs, careful to check each corner and small hiding places, eventually deeming the floor clear. Gently pushing the splintering door open with an annoying creak, you entered a small room gun first. 

Quickly scanning the room you let out a shaky breath relief, lowering your aim. The room looked to be a makeshift office of source, wires running across the hardwood to the three desks shoved against the wall. Approaching closer, your eyes squinted seeing familiar faces. It was your team, all of their files with their specialties and military history listed, along with candid pictures. They even had pictures of Ghost. A chill ran down your spine. How was this possible, this is classified information, how did it fall into enemy hands? 

You tore your gaze away from your own file, your eyes landing on the buzzing of an old monitor. It was a blurry image but obviously a video paused. You moved the mouse before clicking on it to start. The footage was shaky at best, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the screen, not believing what you were hearing. It was the Shadows, Graves’ team, and they were making an illegal transaction in enemy territory. Under General Shephard’s demand. 

You felt your chest tighten as a million thoughts shot off at once. The American missiles found in Hassan’s warehouse were Shephard’s all along? He must have known the whole time, but who else knew? Did Laswell know? Price? You took a step back, hearing the creaking of the door behind you. Immediately you spun around, seeing a masked man you didn’t recognize, and pulled the trigger. 

It was a sure shot, your assailant taking the bullet directly in the chest before collapsing to the ground. He groaned and gasped, blood gurgling in his throat. Quickly you rushed him, kicking his rifle out of arm's reach. You kept your aim, as the man hazily looked up at you. You still had time. 

“The missiles, is it true you stole them from the Shadows?” You said, trying your best to not let your nerves show.

The man coughed, blood spurting from behind his mask.

“Kill me, I won’t tell you anything,” he said. 

Your eyes narrowed, “you’re already on your way, might as well help your chances when you pass over. Now, answer the question: is it true?” 

The man’s eyes squinted as he laughed at you, “you already know the answer, soldier. And now you are as dead as I, he…he won’t stop, until he destroys every last one of you.”

“He wouldn’t-” 

“Doesn’t matter, your time’s ticking,” the man laughed again, the light fading from his eyes, “I’ll see you in hell.”

You listened to his last breath leave his chest in a wheeze before the dread settled in your heart. You slapped a shaky hand over your mouth as you stumbled away. Of course, this wasn’t the first time you killed a man, and it wouldn’t be last, but you had entered the Devil’s ring, and he was going to burn the earth and everyone in it to bury his sins. 

“Wren? Wren do you copy?” You heard Price over the radio. 

You felt your throat go dry, you couldn’t formulate anything. You stumbled back until you were leaning against the desk, your gaze never leaving the dead man. Your mind melted away into panic. You had indeliberately put everyone in danger. They would be tracked until the end of the earth, taken out one by one, all because of you. 

You didn’t move as Ghost and Soap stepped through the door, their eyes finding the dead man first before looking over to your sorry state. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” Ghost grumbled, his cold eyes stopping on you. “What happened?” 

You gulped painfully, violently shaking your head. Soap approached you, placing a comforting hand on your arm. 

“Are you hurt, lass?” He said, his bright blue eyes washed in worry. 

You felt ashamed, the guilt sinking in that you couldn’t look the Scot in the eye. All you could do was point to the monitor, the video paused on the exact moment Hassan’s men apprehended the missiles. Soap’s eyes widened in shock, looking back to Ghost. Simon’s eyes hardened, his head tilted over as he pressed his radio. 

“Come in, Bravo 6, we’ve located Wren,” Ghost said, “you’re gonna want to see this.” 

Your eyes snapped open wide upon hearing a gentle knock at your door. You laid in your cot, your clothes stuck to you from your cold sweat. After grub, you just wanted to be alone, but knowing the boys weren’t going to let you leave on your own, you made sure to slip away while they were distracted. You didn’t remember falling asleep, only staring up at the ceiling as your mind raced at all the possibilities.

Your chest rose and fell rather quickly as you looked to the door. You heard the person knock again before a gentle voice came through. 

“Ah, Maus? Are you sleeping?” Konig said. 

You let out a sigh, brushing your damp hair from your brow as you swung your legs over the edge. You walked over to the door before cracking it open, your eyes squeezing shut for a moment due to the bright light. Said bright light was blocked out by a towering shadow, your eyes opening to look into his watery gaze. 

Konig’s eyes widened a millimeter, seeing your state. Your skin glistened, more exposed from your flimsy tank top and shorts, the fabric clinging to your frame. All of the curves and divots of your muscles, the way your shirt ride up your navel revealing your little bit of your pudge. The way your nipples perked up through your shirt. He could see everything.  He choked on his breath, breaking his gaze from yours. 

“I-I didn’t see you leave the cafeteria. I’m sorry I didn’t come to you sooner…I came here as soon as I could,” Konig said. 

You couldn’t help but smile at the man’s sheepishness, “I’m glad you came to check on me, Konig, I just wanted some alone time, that’s all.” 

Konig nodded, looking down at you again, “are you going to be here the rest of the night?” 

You let out a sigh, picking at your sweaty clothes, “ah, it looks like I’ll be taking a trip to the showers before then.” 

You almost thought you saw something shift behind his hood, his body language changing. 

“Ich komme mit dir,” Konig’s voice was somehow deeper as he spoke in his mother tongue. 

A blush sprinkling against your cheeks at his words. You could only laugh bashfully. 

“Ah, watch your words Bar, don’t want people to get the wrong idea,” you said, rubbing your arm. 

“Ha, I suppose you’re right,” Konig said, diverting your gaze, “but I shouldn’t let you be alone.”

Seeing the determination in the Austrian’s eyes all you could do was nod, “alright, yeah, just give me a sec.” 

You walked from the door, leaving it open for Konig to peer inside. You gathered your things into your shower caddy, slinging both your towels over your shoulder. You joined Konig out in the hall, closing the door behind you. 

“Sollen wir?” Konig said, his voice almost cheerful. 

“Folge dir, Bär,” you smiled up at him. 

The two of you walked in silence for a moment. Konig made sure to keep his strides shorter than his usual so he can stay beside you. After awhile, the silence became awkward and you were desperate to break it. 

“So, where were stationed before, I mean, before KorTac?” You said. 

Konig looked down at you from the corner of his eye making you uneasy under his piercing gaze.

“U-unless that’s too personal,” you were quick to back pedal. 

“No, I’m just surprised you’d like to know,” Konig said, and you wanted to think he was smiling underneath his hood. “I was seventeen when I joined the military. I wanted to be a sniper.” 

“Why couldn’t you?” 

Konig looked down at his gloved hands, “ah, they said that my grip was too shaky, but I think they just wanted me to kick down doors for them because of my…size. Die Idioten.”

You giggled, “well, I can’t exactly blame their decision, I’d be terrified if I had run into you on the field as an enemy.” 

Konig frowned, “do I scare you, Maus?” 

You could feel the hurt in his words and you eager to correct your mistake. You could hear Ghost’s warnings to keep on your toes when around the giant, but didn’t see it. For the first time in a long while, you felt like you could actually breathe when you were around him. You smiled putting a hand on his arm. 

“I haven’t been able to think about anything but the mission since we’ve begun, but speaking with you has eased my nerves,” you said earnestly, “so, no, I’m not scared of you, Bar.”

Konig felt hypnotized by you, unable to find the words to speak. His heart felt like it was beating a million miles a second, his face and ears warming. 

“I-I am happy to hear that, Maus,” he said, his gaze not lifting from the floor as he walked. 

“Do I scare you?” 

“Very,” Konig laughed softly, grinning as he was gifted your laughter. 

You both arrived at the showers, all the stall doors open and empty. You were grateful for this, more time for you to be alone. Well, besides the behemoth behind you. Speaking of, the man hadn’t moved from your side, just kept looking ahead of you.

“Uh, Konig?” 

He looked down at you, waiting with baited breath. 

“Yes, Maus?” He asked. 

“I kinda need to take that shower now…” you hinted. 

Konig’s body language became frantic as he stumbled over his words. 

“A-ah! Yes of course, I’ll wait out here for you,” he said before quickly retreating back into the hall like a puppy with his tail between his legs. 

You smiled and shook your head, stepping into one of the stalls and sliding the lock into place. You placed your caddy on the small shelf before you began to strip. You turned the faucet, allowing the water to heat up before stepping under. You couldn’t hold back the long moan that tumbled out of your lips, forgetting who was standing just outside the door. 

Konig felt air leave him at once, as if sucker punched right in the stomach. How much more perfect could you be? If he hadn’t known better, he would say that whoever was up there pulling the strings was playing a cruel trick on him.  His face felt so hot he was sure he was sweating.  And, embarrassingly, he could feel the blood rushing down between his legs. Before he could help it, images flitted into his mind of your plump lips, glossed and parted as he dragged more divine sounds from you. Your thighs wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him in, nails digging into his skin. A sight sent from the heavens. 

Konig removed his gloves, bringing one hand underneath his hood to feel his warm brow, trying to center himself. 

“Get ahold of yourself, täuschen, they’re your comrade,” he cursed himself. 

He leaned his weight against the wall, casting his gaze to the ceiling above. It would be an understatement to say that Konig wasn’t having the greatest of times here at KorTac. Sure, it was an improvement from his last station for the German military who merely treated him like a living battery ram, but anything would be an improvement from that. 

But Konig was no fool. He knew what the others whispered about him, why the boys of the 141 looked at him that way. They saw him as a monster, a beast, a demon who will accomplish the mission at all costs. Everyone, but you. From the moment you spoke to him, it was different. You were kind to him, when no one else paid him such attention. It made him guilty for thinking of you in this way, what way this was exactly, Konig was only on the cusp of understanding. 

Distracted by his own thoughts, Konig hadn’t noticed your soothing humming had ceased. Konig didn’t think twice, entering the showers now clouded in steam. 

“Wren?” He called. 

He could still hear the shower running the stall but no answer. His stomach dropped, stepping quickly to the stall door, tugging on it and making it rattle. Of course it would be locked, Konig thought. Standing tall, he easily could see over the stall. His eyes widened in shock seeing you curled up leaning against the tile wall, unmoving. 

“Maus!” Konig exclaimed, and without hesitation reached over the stall and slid the lock open. 

Pushing the door open, Konig rushed to you, kneeling before you and taking your face in his hands. 

“Maus, Maus wake up, answer me!” Konig said in a panic. 

You let out a groan, your eyelids heavy as you slowly opened them to gaze into the deepest of jades. Your brain was foggy, the exhaustion from the countless sleepless nights finally coming to take its claim on you. You smiled, your eyes squinting, as you looked into those eyes. They were like laying a meadow and being warmed by the sun’s beams. 

“So warm,” you hummed. “Mein Bär, halte mich warm.”

Konig’s eyes widened. Being so close, he could see the dark circles under your eyes and your bloodshot eyes — were they always present? 

Worry laced his tone, “Maus, when’s the last time you’ve slept?”

You let out a hum, leaning into Konig’s hands. Konig let out a shaky breath, his fingers skimming over your soft cheek. He was painfully aware that you were naked underneath his large frame, the temptation pulling at him. You were falling asleep right in his hands, letting him know he had to move fast. 

Carefully leaning your head back onto the tile, Konig turned the water off before stepping away. He grabbed your towel, throwing one over your damp hair. He tried his best to keep his mind out of the gutter, a nearly impossible feat seeing how tiny you were compared to him. An undeniable truth. 

Even so, Konig tried his best to awkwardly wrap the towel around your body, taking a little time around your curves. Carefully he moved his arms underneath your legs, the other supporting your back, almost folding you so your head could lay against his shoulder. You barely stirred, your arm laying limp in your lap. Slowly, Konig stood to his height, his eyes never leaving you. Time was lost on him as his gaze never left your sleeping expression. Your lips parted as gentle breath left you, your brow slightly knitted together. 

Were you having a nightmare? He wanted to wake, but fearing that would make the situation even more inappropriate, he opted to let you slumber. You felt so small in his arms, like a rabbit cuddling with a wolf. 

“Come on, get it together,” Konig chided himself. 

He turned to leave the stall, once more checking that you were mostly covered in the damp towel before stepping out into the hall. Your wet hair began to soak his sleeve, slowly becoming cold from the chilled air. 

“I need to get you to bed or you’ll catch a cold, Maus,” Konig murmured. 

Of course you couldn’t hear him but seeing you nuzzle closer to his chest had him half convinced. His gaze through the slots of his hood couldn’t be torn off of you. How could someone be as perfect when they’re awake but also when they sleep? It didn’t seem possible until he met you. A lot of things didn’t, but he was beginning to understand. 

Lost in his own world, Konig hadn’t noticed the extremely light footsteps rounding the corner, until his eyes shifted to the floor in front of him only to find black combat boots. He choked on his breath, his head snapping up to stare into dark vats of brown cast under the shadow of a grim facade. Stopping in his tracks, Konig felt his spine go rigid as he looked nearly at eye level who they called Ghost. 

To say that Ghost looked unimpressed would be an understatement. The stare the Brit was giving poor Konig would have sent him to the rings of hell. Ghost’s gaze flickered to you held protectively in the Austrian’s arms before letting out a grunt. 

“Get her to bed,” Ghost’s voice gruff, “idiot has been putting herself through hell past hours, knew it only a matter of time before she knocked out.” Konig gulped before nodding, “I-I was posted out in the hall and she fell asleep in the shower, comrade.” 

Ghost grunted, pointing his thumb over his shoulder, “get a move on then.” 

Konig nodded, brushing past the lieutenant, and continuing down the hall. Ghost watched the man go, something else swirling in his dark eyes. 

“Better take care of them, idiot.”

TAG LIST:

@winters-doll

want to be on the tag list? let me know in the comments!

[youghostandyoutrick]

Probably not gonna go anywhere with this but made the mistake of relistening to The City Must Survive from Frostpunk and now I’m vaguely batting the idea of a Grick Frostpunk AU around

Yomiel still gets struck with Temsik, ofc, the whole thought spawned from the idea that it’d be real handy to have an invulnerable superhuman around, but how does everybody else factor into things?

So far, my thought is that the rest of the main cast has survived the Great Frost and made it to a Generator settlement more or less intact. (Alma may or may not be dead, and it may or may not be Yomiel’s fault, haven’t decided. Fiansissel is definitely dead.) They’re all working their asses off in their new, miserable, frostbitten lives, y’know, standard Frostpunk fare.

Then the scouting teams return with a man in tow.

At first, this doesn’t seem strange to anyone. Of course the scouting team brought back a survivor, that’s one of their missions, alongside scavenging resources from the Frostlands. But the survivor… well, dressed like he is, he shouldn’t be alive. His snow-crusted clothes, a fine frock and trousers fit for a cool autumn’s day, should never have been enough to protect him from the bitter cold. His eyes are shielded only by dark inventor’s goggles, the metal components of which should have frozen to his face long ago, and his hands are bare and cold and yet dextrous and undarkened by frostbite. Barely a hair on his head lays out of place.

He’s put to work immediately, of course, all able hands are welcome, and to this he has no complaints. He proves a capable engineer and a meticulous scholar, tireless no matter how the Captain stretches their shifts longer and longer, and integrates well enough into the City, though those who know him will say he is far from sociable. He has a surprisingly keen knowledge of the workings of the Generator in particular, for how jealously that information was guarded in the time before. Questions to him about this knowledge go unanswered, but the Captain allows it to slide, just like the questions about how he survived the Frostlands so ill-equipped for so long.

Good things cannot last, of course.

Cabanela and Jowd only hear about the miracle survivor, at first, but their paths must cross eventually, and both of them would know that face anywhere, the one that haunts them, that last and most horrendous mistake of theirs before the frost set in, stepping out of the shadows of a sun-warmed past to haunt their frozen, ramshackle streets. Their eyes meet his, and to one another they say nothing, but later, over awful moonshine in the public house, Jowd and Cabanela say everything. A ghost from the past—a literal one, even, perhaps, cold dead flesh and cold dead spirit, born of the stars and the snow and come to reclaim the life lost to him, stolen from him. Man or monster? Peaceful, protective, or vengeful and biding his time? While the alcohol fades away, the theories remain—in their minds and the minds of the rumourmongers who overheard them.

It spreads quickly from there, and mutates like a cancer in the City’s veins.

Strangers avoid him. Busybodies in the street come up to interrogate him, how he really survived the Frostlands all that time on his own. Parents shuffle their children to the other sides of snow-slicked streets. The particularly religious cross themselves in his presence, not so subtly he doesn’t notice, not so subtly he doesn’t notice any of this shift in his treatment, in the public opinion.

Some of his coworkers, at least, stand with him, in their strange, scientific way. When he learns about the rumours, the older woman whose drawing table sits next to his scoffs. “Ghosts,” she spits, with unhidden disdain. “What hogwash.”

It’s less reassuring than it should have been.

The day he saves a child from being trampled by an automaton only fans the flames.

He pushes the kid aside as the shadow bears down and suddenly he’s on the ground hearing something snap somewhere behind him. People scream. An immense weight lifts from his body, he pushes himself up, and his pancaked leg is reforming, sliding itself neatly back into place as he turns around to look. He stands up and hurries off, before someone can call for a doctor.

Several days later he learns that the city watch had to break up a fistfight at church between the child’s father and a congregant who speculated to no other protest that Yomiel was the devil made flesh, fuelling the Generator with hellfire and the souls of the damned.

The unrest starts to cause such a fuss that even the Captain gets involved. A doctor comes to find Yomiel at work one day, requesting to give him a medical examination. “To assuage the people’s concerns,” the doctor had said, “to prove to them that you’re as human as the rest of us. The Captain wants to put an end to these foolish rumours before they can cause any more problems.”

He possesses the doctor and fills the examination sheet with numbers that seem plausible enough. The next day, he’s called in to the Captain’s office himself.

Yomiel answers the Captain’s questions with a mix of the truth and what he wishes were true. Sure, he may be abnormal, but he’s not dangerous, he’s not malicious. He’s just like the rest of them, trying to eke out an existence in this frozen wasteland, in this tiny pimple of warmth on the face of the snowball Earth. No, sir, he has neither means nor motive to hurt anyone. Yes, sir, he’ll work hard for the City, he already has been.

I’m tired and running out of steam to be all dramatic lol

Blah blah things get worse blah blah throw the witch into the Generator blah blah I kinda forgort about Cabanela and Jowd in all this beyond the rumours starting. Yomiel should make them suffer for starting the rumours I think and this ends up helping absolutely nobody. Where’s Sissel (cat) in all this? Where’s Lynne and Kamila? Hell if I know

[illarian-rambling]

Thanks for the tags @theink-stainedfolk @willtheweaver @the-golden-comet @autism-purgatory @leahpardo-pa-potato! Everyone and their momma tagged me in this lol

WIP Tour Tag

Welcome to the world of Illaros! Or, more accurately, welcome to the ship pushing the boundaries of its exploration - the grand RS Starbreaker! Come take a trip aboard this top-of-the-line research vessel and witness the wonders of this single-star cosmos. The views are to die for! (And not just because only ghosts can survive in space)

Places I recommend to visit:

The hold of the RS Starbreaker

While not as stunning as some of the other locales, the wooden belly of this refitted schooner is a home away from home. Except, if your home had only the amenities you could scavenge from crates of research materials. Curtains line the space, allowing for private areas, while old crates have been stacked all over the place like miniature castles. Handstitched cushions provide a comfortable place to rest, and soft music can often be heard from someone practicing an instrument. It's the tender underside of a formidable ship, where even a crew of the damned can rest their heads.

Kuli Outpost atop the titan, Dara

Located on the planet of Daramakt, this small city is built into the shaft of a single massive tailfeather of Dara, one of two titanic avian gods that endlessly circle the gas giant planet. The wind from Dara's flight has forced the architecture of Kuli Outpost to adapt. The buildings are sloped to avoid drag, and everything is anchored in case Dara ever banks - an event on the scale of a natural disaster. Every material comes from Dara. The building walls are woven from its feather fibers, ceramics and glassware are made from the shells of insectoid beasts that live alongside the Darains, and their clothing is made from the lichens that grow on their massive living home. The people of Kuli are tough from living in such an environment, however, they know how to party when they can. As a frequent stop for the Flying City, the outpost is full of casinos and malls for the entertainment of travelers. Even so, the most entertainment most foreign folk need is simply the knowledge that they could walk for an entire day and not reach even a sixth of the way down the length of a single one of Dara's feathers.

Unamed ice beach on the planet Jeshan

As the name suggests, this beach has no title, as Jeshan is not inhabited. It used to be, though, which is why there's a beach in the first place. A metal column, perhaps twenty feet in diameter, extends up from the fathomless depths of the water world's ocean. No one knows where it comes from or who made it, but it produces just enough heat to melt the surrounding ice and raise the water temperature to something manageable. It's a little oasis of warmth looking out onto an endless field of shifting ice split occasionally by waves as tall as redwoods. The only clue as to its origin is a bit of incomprehensible writing etched onto the left side. As for the swimming itself, it's not a bad spot. Just don't think about how deep it is.

Who are the tour guides?

Captain Faalgun Falani

You'll find no tour guide more committed to their role than Captain Falani. He has gone over all the interesting facts beforehand and memorized every safety protocol. A bit stuffy, yes, but a responsible and passionate fellow, in his own way. Just keep him away from the casinos on Kuli, and if he asks if you'd like to experience some more adventurous flying, say no. You aren't built for those levels of G-force.

Pashananath

You will easily find a more committed tour guide than Pash. He's got passion, that's for sure. He has a way with words that makes you wonder since when you cared so much about the avian life of Jeshan, and he can work a crowd like a seasoned waiter at a classy restaurant. However, the moment he gets bored, he's gone. Good luck finding your way back to the ship without him. If you ask nicely, he'll probably play his cwyth for you.

Souvenirs! What are they?

A standard-issue Republic military shortsword

No one knows why the Republic decided to pack so many weapons onto the ship for a research mission, but none of the crew knows how to use one, so honestly, they've got swords coming out their ears at this point. Please take one.

A keratin poker chip from Kuli Outpost

As mentioned, this place is known for its gaming houses. All the chips are made from the chiseled feather shaft of Dara, while the cards are processed lichen. Each are painted with purple pigments derived from barbs of the feather.

A mysterious artifact from Jeshan

When an odd metal box covered in chunky buttons and spiral indents washes up during a beach trip on an alien world, you take it with you. It makes a soothing humming when you press the top button, but only when submerged in water.

I'll tag @mk-writes-stuff @somethingclevermahogony @ominous-feychild @cain-e-brookman @urnumber1star and anyone else who wants to play :)

[tokillamockingbird427]

Had an idea a while ago about Logan and Hesh building a treehouse in "secret" except it's not much of a secret because their father is literally "Captain Elias Walker of STALKER aka the Ghosts" so he obviously catches on as soon as the lil shits even have the idea.

Still thinking about it because how goofy it is. Elias, wanting to let his sons have fun, pretends not to know even though he for sure 100% does, and monitors their progress/safety because that's just how he is.

This leads to hijinks such as Elias bitching about "Some random shipment of wood." that just so coincidentally shows up as soon as the boys start breaking down wood pallets to use. (Elias is worried about nails/staples and also knows pallets can be treated with chems that could make them sick.)

And then, oh? What's this? He got a new tool set, so the boys may as well have the old one. (Even though they're a bit sentimental to him, he'd rather Logan and David use working tools that aren't makeshift or could break on them.)

The boys talk about wanting a rope swing and boom. They find a tire not far from the treehouse when they're doing their little scavenger thing. (Elias planted it, obvi.)

It's fun because Elias lets them do the project on their own, but he offers supplies (In sneaky ways) because he still wants to help. (And keep them safe.)

[elijones94]

👻 Last night before doing my treadmill workout, I began working on a drawing of Scooby-Doo teamed up with Alexander Cabot III from “Josie and the Pussycats”. After rewatching scenes from “The Haunted Showboat” episode from “The New Scooby-Doo Movies”, I decided to maybe take a whack at doing a drawing of Alexander with Scooby and Shaggy or just of him with Scooby only. My favorite scenes from the episode are of Shaggy, Scooby, and Alexander fleeing in fear of the Ghosts of Captain Scavenger and Injun Joe. 🐾