#john autumn
wintercorrybriea · 1 year
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mask by john autumn
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ghostofouryouth · 2 months
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This… is stupid, but you know what, it delighted me to draw and that’s the most important thing <3
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enchantedbook · 2 months
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'Autumn Leaves' by John Everett Millais, 1856
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john-noe · 1 year
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the mirror of the soul
By John Noe
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fleursscaptives · 6 months
pre raphaelite ginger ladies ♥️🧜🏻‍♀️
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halloweentrickortreat · 6 months
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Michael Myers 🔪
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autumnleaves1991-blog · 2 months
"I don't actually believe you." Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F! Reader x John 'Soap' MacTavish
Summary: After returning to base in Las Almas, the team gets a surprise when Graves turns out to be the true enemy. During the confusion you get injured and taken with Alejandro. To bad for shadow company you're more than a teammate to Soap and Ghost, and their coming for their girl.
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F! Reader x John 'Soap' MacTavish
Warnings: 18 + for language, canon typical violence, blood, guns, reader goes by the callsign Phoenix, poly.
Cross Posted on AO3
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“Let’s not make this any harder than it has to be, gentleman.” You clear your throat, “and lady.” 
“My men are in there!” Alejandro holds out his arm, his voice impassioned, “let them go.” 
“No can do, amigo,” Graves chuckles, “I like this base. I think I’m gonna keep it. And everyone that comes with it.” 
You turn your head, Ghost already has his eyes on you. “So what’s the plan then Graves?” You turn to look at the shadow leader, “you gonna kill us?” 
“No,” he shakes his head, “absolutely not. No one has to die tonight.” 
“You know what? I don’t actually believe you.” Alejandro takes a step closer getting in the commander's face. 
“I’m not leaving without my men.” 
“We’ll then,” Graves grabs a hold of Alejandro’s vest, pushing him into the van, shadows holding both his arms as Graves knocks him out with the butt of his gun. “Grab the girl!” 
You scream, fighting like hell, Shadows falling down around you before someone grabs your hair and pulls you back a gun under your chin. “Let me go, you piece of shit!” 
“Tsk tsk Darlin’. You kiss your momma with that mouth.” Graves grins looking ahead and you see Ghost and Soap staring you down. Their jaws are locked, pissed off beyond belief. “Or just these two boys?” He laughs, “This little girl is the key to keeping you boys compliant. I control her, I control you.” 
Ghosts finger tightens on the trigger, Soap going for a knife strapped to his side. “Let. Her. Go,” Ghost growls, his chest heaving, “I won’t fucking tell you twice.” 
“Oh so you’re the one she’s been fucking?” Graves tightens his grip and you hate the whimper that slips through your teeth. 
Simon raises his gun, blowing the head off of the Shadow beside you. The soldiers lift their guns, all of them focused on Ghost. “Next one goes in you,” he aims at Graves. 
“I wouldn’t do that,” he digs the gun harder into your throat. “You shoot me and she dies.” 
“I wouldn’t be so worried about her,” you can hear the smirk, “she can take care of herself.” 
“Seems I got the upper hand this time,” he gropes your breast, “and what a nice handful it is.”
“Fuck this,” you slam your elbow into his stomach, whirling and dropping as the bullet flys directly over your head. You lift your leg and kick him in the sternum as the bullets fly. You toss your body, rolling down the hill with a pained cry as a rock hits your shoulder, dislocating it. 
“Fuck,” you groan, grabbing your gun and shooting blindly back at the Shadows. 
“Phoenix!” you hear Johnny shout, and you look around blindly when something hits you hard on the back of the head and the world goes dark. 
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When you come to, the room is dark but you can see two Shadows in the corner their guns resting lazily against their chest. The floor beneath you is cold and you sit up, biting your lip and muffling the scream when you notice your shoulder. “Fucking asshole didn’t pop my shoulder back,” you mumble, cursing his name. 
 “Graves,” one of the Shadows mumbles into a radio, “she’s awake.” 
“Fucking finally,” you can hear the smile in his voice, “I’ll be right down.” 
The door slams open a moment later and you flinch, your vision swimming. “Seems like you haven’t lost your fire, Phoenix,” Graves strolls in like he owns the place, pulling a chair to sit down before you. “I’m glad your awake, had me worried there for a moment.” 
You ignore him, focusing on a point on the wall behind him and retreating to the recesses of your mind. This isn’t the first time you’ve been tortured but a first for it being someone you know. “Aww, don’t do that, Sweetheart,” he leans forward putting his hand on your neck and squeezing as he brings you to your knees. 
He squeezes tighter and your eyes widen as you struggle to take a breath, digging your nails into his wrist, your right arm hanging loosely at your side. “It’s rude to ignore your hosts.” 
He lets go and you fall to your side, coughing and sputtering as the air reinflates your lungs. “I’m surprised,” Graves stands looming over you, “I thought Ghost would be into a little choking.” 
Ignoring him you think of Simon and Johnny, and you laugh. It starts off as a giggle, then a chuckle before you’re laughing manically on the ground. Graves doesn’t like that very much, standing quickly and putting his boot on your arm, pressing down. You scream, blood curdling as he presses harder, leaning down to your face, “you think this is funny?” he shouts, “tell me, bitch, what’s so fucking funny?!”
He finally lets up kneeling beside you, his gun in your face, and between the tears streaming down your cheeks you see the two shadows stepping closer. “TELL ME!” he screams, and you start laughing again. 
“They’re,” you gasp between each word, “gonna, fucking, kill, you.” The blood stains your teeth when he wacks you across the face with his gun, the metalic tang on your tongue. 
“We’ll see about that,” he stands, staring down at you for a minute before, looking over his shoulder, “put her in the holding cell with Alejandro and lock it down.” 
“Yes, sir,” the men nod, watching him retreat before they lift you, ignoring the way you cry when your obviously broken shoulder jostles. 
They dump you on a stale mattress in the corner of the room, another soldier holding a gun on Alejandro. “What the fuck did you do to her?!” he screams fighting the one holding him back. They slowly retreat out of the room before locking the door to the cell behind them. Alejandro rushes to your side, brushing the hair out of your face, “Jesus.” 
“Looks worse than it is,” you whimper, allowing yourself a moment to cry when he tries his best to clean you up. 
“Graves really fucked you up,” he mumbles, tearing off his shirt, leaving him in a white t-shirt, “this is going to hurt,” he warns before popping your shoulder back down. A scream tears its way out of your throat, and you clutch at his arm, sobbing. “It’s broken,” he whispers, “but that should take some of the tension off.” He makes a sling out of his shirt, and helps you sit up to rest against the wall. 
The room is silent save for your heavy breathing, and the drip of water in the corner. “He-” Alejandro starts, rubbing his hands together, “he didn’t-” 
“No,” you cut him off, understanding, “no he didn’t.” You close your eyes, “doesn’t mean he won’t take the chance the longer we’re here. Or maybe he’ll hand me around to the Shadows. I think this has shown us, Graves is the furthest thing from a man of honor.” 
“They’ll come for us,” he looks up at the ceiling, “they’ll come for you.” You turn your head and give him a small smile, he turns and returns it. You sit in comfortable silence, your head resting on his shoulder, hating how your body tenses when you hear the slightest noise from outside. 
Hours later, the building shakes with a boom, and Alejandro leans over you covering your head as a few small rocks rain down from the ceiling. “The cavalry,” he pulls back smiling down at you, “has arrived.” 
“Johnny,” you whisper, closing your eyes, “they’ll alive.” Soldiers shout outside the room, and Alejandro stands, hiding behind the door ready to pounce. You hold your breath, hearing shots down the hall and screams through the thick metal of the door. 
Another boom rocks the complex and it makes you smile, “that’s my demolitions expert,” you whisper, “come find me, baby.” 
There’s suddenly a scream of terror that is quickly silenced, closer than the others. “Ghost,” you whimper, pushing off the ground with a gasp and taking a shaky step towards the door. 
“Stay back, Phoenix,” Alejandro holds out an arm, “we don’t know for sure it’s them.” 
But you do, the door bursts off the hinges and Alejandro strikes, Johnny pins him to the wall. “It’s us, Amigo,” he shouts. 
“Ghost, Soap, Rudy,” he looks at the three men and smiles, “am I glad to see you!” 
“Where is she?!” Ghost pushes his way past them, looking around before his eyes land on you. “Phoenix,” he whispers, taking a step towards you. 
You step, your knees collapsing but before your knees hit the ground he’s holding you. You gasp, pain shooting up your arm and he quickly lets go, assessing the damage. 
“Lass,” Johnny comes around and leans you against his chest. Ghost pulls off his pack and grabs a syringe from a small bag, “relax,” Johnny presses his lips to your head, "we got you."
"Fucking Graves is a dead man," Ghost growls injecting your arm with the good stuff. Your arm aching but nothing compared to the agony of the last few hours. Ghost leans closer, his eyes rimmed red before he checks you over for any other wounds.
His hands tighten painfully when he sees the fingerprints on your neck, "did Graves do that to you?"
"Yes," you whisper, his finger softly trailing down the purple bruise on your cheek, "and that one too."
"Death is too quick," he mumbles, glancing at Johnny, "fucking bastard is going to suffer."
"Aye, I'm right there with you L.T.," Johnny wraps his arms around your waist, "had us scared to death, love."
"We need to get her out of here, I'll go help Alejandro free the Los Vaqueros, then we get the hell out and kill Graves." Ghost stands walking towards the door but freezing when he hears you.
"Simon," you whimper, reaching an arm out for him, "Johnny, help me up." Johnny helps you to your feet, keeping himself pressed to your back. "I thought you were dead for the last day. I thought Graves was gonna come back and touch me, or give me to his men. I just fucking need you right now."
"I got you, Phoenix," he pushes his body to your front and you're sandwiched between the two men you love most in this world. "We'd have burned this entire fucking world apart to find you, love." He chuckles, "I don't know how well you could hear the explosions from in here, love. But Johnny got a head start."
"I knew you'd come for me." You rise up to kiss him, his left hand quickly lifting up his mask before kissing you with all the passion, worry, and fear since you were taken." Simon turns your head and Johnny is there, waiting for his chance to steal your breath away. Safe for the first time since you were taken.
"I fucking love you, lassy," Johnny kisses your nose. "Let's go home."
"I love you too," you whisper, turning back to Simon, "both of you."
"And I love you," Simon pulls his mask back down, "bloody both of you. Between you getting kidnapped and him blowing everything up it's a wonder I'm not dead yet."
"But you love us anyways," Soap grins, kissing your head and helping you towards the door.
"You're right," Simon nods, aiming his gun, ready to defend, "I bloody fucking do."
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overnitereligion · 3 months
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Penny & Batman october 2014
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wronghands1 · 2 months
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heaveninawildflower · 2 months
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'Mariana' (finished work and pencil study) by John Everett Millais (1829–1896).
Oil on wood (1851). Pencil study (1850)
6wGvnPEiyH8RFA — Google Arts & Culture
Victoria and Albert Museum.
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"The month of half summer, half autumn. Half sophistication, half barbarity."
~ John Lewis-Stempel, Meadowland: The Private Life of an English Field, "September"
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fashionarchv · 2 months
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Givenchy Fall 1995 Couture
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peaceinthestorm · 1 year
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William John Hennessy (1839-1917, Irish) ~ Woman in an Autumn Landscape, 1868
[Source: artvee.com]
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enchantedbook · 1 year
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Autumn Leaves by John Everett Millais, 1856
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john-noe · 1 year
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under the trees
By John Noe
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winternymphaea · 1 year
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john galliano for christian dior, fall/winter 2oo5
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