Tumgik
#relived aRMy
janthecrow · 3 months
Text
decided to post my sky:cotl edit here
21 notes · View notes
cottage-squ1d · 2 years
Text
was playing some of splat1 last night and i COMPLETELY forgot that the amiibos let you do challenges to get the hero weapon and outfit pieces...... unfortunately since the challenge was to complete hero modes and kill bosses with a certain weapon, i can understand why that didn’t come back. just would be cool to have polished versions in the other games, yknow?
3 notes · View notes
oopsdevil · 8 months
Text
COD + Tropes
which trope do they fall into when it comes to you.
SIMON GHOST RILEY + FWB TO LOVERS
i have said it before but simon really struggles when it comes to relationships.
he insisted that this was a casual thing but soon realized that's not true. from the way his heart beats faster when you rarely cuddle, to his trouble sleeping wondering if maybe you were with some other bloke. his insecurities got the best of him and he would end up saying something mean out of jealousy. when he saw you took offense to it he decided in four seconds that he was not gonna lose you. he confessed his feelings (in a sentence or two) and since then he has no problem with everyone knowing you are his.
KYLE GAZ GARRICK + THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY
kyle was always a romantic. outspoken, proud romantic. you guys probably met in high school and just fell in love. you both knew you were it for each other but everyone kept insisting it was just a first love kind of thing. it was not.
circumstances brought kyle into the army and leaving you was the hardest of it all. you both also decided staying together was just gonna be painful so you broke up.
a couple years later kyle came home and got his life together as an adult. after seeing the reality of bills, rent, taxes and just life, he realized maybe he doesn't wanna do it at all without you. a call and a few tears is all it took for admitting you are still each others soulmates.
JOHN SOAP MACTAVISH + FAKE DATING
look at me in the eyes and tell me this is not HIS trope. it was simply meant to be. maybe he saw you in a bar and some guy was being too insisting for his liking, maybe johnny got sick of his family asking about a future wedding or maybe gaz told you guys you couldn't pull it off and you took the bet. doesn't matter, but it happened.
after months of intense eye contact across the room, flushed faces when realizing you were holding hands but there was no one around and holding you by your hips for group pictures, johnny felt his stomach turn when you mentioned something about going on a date with some other soldier for real.
next thing you knew he was kissing you against a bathroom door. really kissing you, not like those pecks for the public that always left you wanting more. in breathless sentences you both decided to be together like you always wanted (probably in a quick to be continued kinda way so you could keep kissing)
KÖNIG + SLOW BURN
it took him years. years.
from the moment he saw you in base he was thankful his hood could hide his red face when he developed a crush in about 15 seconds. he was also very surprised when you just talked to him.
könig kept you as a friend for years and himself busy with missions, it wasn't until you were thinking about transferring when he decided you wouldn't do it. you can't just go, right?
the only condition to staying was a very long conversation with him, where you admitted being in love with him for the longest time, and thinking maybe he felt the same way. but after that many years you needed to have him now, or just try to move on.
i don't think könig ever felt that relived. he mumbled something in german, suddenly ripping his hood off and kinda tackled you to the bed in a hug. you laughed and decided yeah, this is gonna work.
JOHN PRICE + FORCED PROXIMITY/ SECRET RELATIONSHIP
having a new secretary in his office was the last thing john needed.
he was sure it was about the fact that it was someone new in his personal space, someone who knew nothing about his routine.
it obviously had nothing to do with the fact that he looked at you longer than he looked at papers. or about your accent being so distracting to him that you had to say most things twice.
being trapped in an elevator with him was the last thing you needed.
again, its about the fact that you have so many things to do for your impatient boss (not about his cologne being intoxicating and his shoulders looking a little too big right now)
neither of you knew how it happened, but it did. and you were sure he pressed you against every inch of the elevators walls while kissing you like a mad man.
the truth is everyone else on the team knew the reason why you drove each other crazy, and john was more than grateful when the person who opened the elevator doors and saw the state of you was simon.
after fixing your clothes and an awkward apologize to simon, you talked about it.
having a secret relationship with him didn't last long, this man likes to move fast. but after the elevator incident, you were more than okay with that.
1K notes · View notes
leascorner · 5 months
Text
b.b. | Emergency contact
Summary: “I changed my emergency contact, just so you know.”
Pairing:  Bradley Bradshaw x f!reader
Warnings: Angst, mention of multiple accidents, mention of break-up, probably inexact medical and american army facts, deaths, grief, mention of trauma/PTSD, mention of food
Word Count: 4.7k
Author note: y/n = your name; y/s/n = your sister's name. Enjoy!
Masterlist
Tumblr media
Maverick saw her first.
Hair all over her face. Cloudy eyes. Blank cheeks. Y/N looked even worse than what he had thought and considering the situation, that was perhaps to be expected. He could only imagine the call she had gotten when maybe she was on her way home after work. The kind of call that just say, “your loved one is at the hospital”. They could be dead already. They could be alive for now, but dead before she’d make it there…
Maverick did not know her personally. He knew, however, who she was and who she had been to Bradley. He had heard what had happened at that time; even if his godson had not gone into much details - he wasn’t exactly one to confide about his love life. Being aware of her story, he felt like this moment would be exactly like any of his own PTSD - reliving your worst nightmare. He had known from the moment the nurse had told him he was not family - Y/N was - that whenever she would show up, he needed to be there for her.
Getting up from the seat in which he had been waiting for some times now, he called out her name. Her eyes scanned the whole room before landing on him. She had never seen him other than in Bradley’s old photobooks, but she recognized him immediately. Though Maverick was now a couple of years older, he looked as in the pictures. It relieved her to see him there; it was partly because he did not look like someone who was going to have to bury his godson any time soon. Of course, it also startled her. The last time she had talked to Bradley, many (many) years ago, his resentment against Maverick was consuming him. She guessed they had finally worked things out.
“We were testing new materials,” Maverick explained as he sat her up in the seat next to his. Though her cheeks were slowly regaining colour, she was still trembling like the leaves of a tree caught in the wind. Perhaps it was being in this ER room again, in the exact same hospital, after all this time. Perhaps it was also the adrenaline wearing off. “Bradley’s jet had an issue and he had to extract. He landed quite roughly though. His left leg is pretty messed up.”
Y/N stayed silent, staring at him, and Maverick let her be. Of course, she had imagined him to be dead. Though she had just heard the contrary, her brain took a couple of seconds to work everything out. “So, he will be alright?”
He nodded slowly and Y/N let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She was selfishly relieved. She wouldn’t have to decide on the last clothes he would wear. She wouldn’t have to be handed his flag and colors. She wouldn’t have to watch his coffin buried six feet deep. She wouldn’t have to read over and over that stupid phrase written in the marble of this grave. She wouldn’t have to get through this again.
She had done that too much for her own lifetime already.
“Doctor, this is Miss Y/L/N”.
Maverick’s hand on her shoulder made Y/N surface out of her thoughts. She was quick to hop onto her feet and greet the surgeon that had just joined them with a nod. She braced herself for whatever news he had to give - couldn’t be that bad, Bradley was alive after all - and when it didn’t come, she presumed from his look that he was silently waiting for Maverick to go. She understood now that she was the only one listed as his emergency contact.
“He can stay, he is family.”
The surgeon nodded and started to explain in a more complex manner what Maverick had already told her before. Bradley would be immobilised for a couple of weeks, waiting for the bruise in his knee to resolve before he could undergo surgery. After that he would still need to have Physical Therapy before being cleared.
“How long until- how long ‘till he can go back to flying?” Y/N asked, nervously.
“A few months, six at most.” At her side, it was Maverick’s time to let out a shaky breath. He already knew it was going to be difficult to keep Bradley off the tarmac for this long. “He is awake now, if you want to visit.”
After they thanked him, Y/N heard Maverick turning to her - only a few seconds away to say what she assumed to be a “you go first” - and she stayed frozen on her spot, not able to make a move as she finally understood she could be seeing Bradley again – it had never crossed her mind before. There was no way she was facing a very much alive Bradley today. Not today, nor any time soon.
“You go, I’ll handle the paperwork.”
Maverick knew better than to say a thing; he only nodded, thanking her quietly. He knew she would most likely be gone when he would be back. He didn’t blame her though.
This was just a tragic story.
Tumblr media
Bradley saw her first.
He had been at the beach near Penny’s bar probably a thousand times since he last spoke to her, all these years ago. Yet, never had he seen her there.
Watching her, sat on an enormous beach towel, watching Henry - or at least he guessed it was Henry - playing in the sand a few feet away, he could only feel guilty for what he had put her through a month ago. The call from the military hospital, the minimal information given, the drive alone, fear clenching her stomach, the parking lot where she could’ve vomited her gut out, the hospital smell. It must have been like reliving her worst nightmare. Except this time there was no tragic ending...
He had changed his emergency contact as soon as the painkiller had permitted him to think straight. To be honest, after all those years, he had forgotten she was even mentioned in his file. They had never been married and therefore had never been officially together for the Navy. He really thought no one was his emergency contact; it only felt natural having no family of his own. No parent. No wife. No kid. Now, he only had his godfather - they had reconnected a couple of years ago.
He was only relieved this had happened when Maverick was here, that someone was able to be by her side and that this time, she didn’t have to live it all alone.
Though he wanted to, Bradley did not go and apologize. He imposed so much on her already. Breaking her heart. Letting her go. Probably scaring the hell out of her. No, he definitely had done enough already.
He was mentally wishing her all the best from afar, ready to turn back to the bar, when the little boy at her side made his heart stopped. One of his tiny fingers was pointing in his direction and it took only what seemed to be a second for Y/N to turn around as well, her eyes landing on him. Against all odds, she waved shyly in his direction, which made Henry - who he had only met when he was still a couple of days old - waved at him as well.
Awkwardly, Bradley waved back and decided that at this point, he couldn’t just turn around and leave. The walk to their spot was pure torture with his messed-up knee for which he had yet to undergo surgery.
“You are the guy in the wedding picture in the hallway,” Henry said once Bradley was to their level. Bradley frowned, not sure what to answer to this. Of course, he understood he was talking about Y/S/N’s wedding, though he didn’t quite understand how this little guy would have recognized him in the hundred guests that must appear on the pictures.
“There is a picture in the hallway,” Y/N simply answered, before explaining to Henry that the polite way to greet someone was to say hello first.
Bradley only nodded, preferring to stay silent as he wasn’t really sure what to say now that he was there.
“How is your knee?”
“Well, could be better, I guess?” Bradley shrugged and Y/N nodded, a serious expression on her face. He hadn’t been in the best of mood due to his injury, and he realized too late this tone wasn’t the friendliest. To make sure she didn’t take it personally, he was quick to continue: “I wanted to say-”
“It’s okay,” She cut him off; she couldn’t be sure what he was thinking, yet she wanted to spare them both the struggle of his thanks. She hadn’t done him a favour running to his side at the first call. In fact, she hadn’t really thought anything, coming running blindly to the hospital as the nurse on the phone told her he had an accident. Maybe it was selfish of her, maybe this time she had thought she could save someone she knew.
“No, I don’t think it really is…” He sighed. “I changed my emergency contact, just so you know.”
“Thanks.”
Some more silence.
Bradley’s hands had become even sweatier, and it wasn’t due to the weather of the first days of spring. This whole situation was literally making him so uncomfortable. It was like walking on eggshell; he didn’t want to break her even more.
“I very am sorry.”
Bradley wasn’t sure what he was really sorry for. This wasn’t just for the scare, last month. It was also for breaking her heart, leaving her the second he had his dream job - like they couldn’t have made it work, not being around when Y/S/N and her husband died in that horrible car crash, him only sending flowers for the funerals, him not calling to make sure Y/N was surviving - how could he have, when he was the one leaving her to live his dream life and she was now the legal guardian of her six-months-old nephew at thirty something.
Y/N only stared at him, trying to see through him like she used to. He was sincere - she knew that much.
“I know.”
Tumblr media
It had been a little more than three months when Bradley saw her again.
He had just completed yet another session of physical therapy; though it had been ten weeks since he had surgery and he didn’t need crutches to walk any longer, he still had not recovered the totally of his knee motion. Maverick was driving him twice a week to the military hospital to have PT; with his messed up left knee, Bradley couldn’t drive his manual Bronco.
While he was patiently waiting for the secretary to hung up the phone to get his next appointment scheduled, his eyes landed on a familiar face in the ER waiting room. She was here yet again, eyes puffy and red, breathe short and hair all over the place.
“Y/N?”
Hearing her name, she jumped from her seat, all senses on alert. Her eyes scanned the room urgently before stopping on Bradley. Understanding it was him calling her name, the tears she was holding back started flowing on her cheeks again. His heart started to pound furiously in his chest as the only thought that passed his mind was that something terrible had happened. Again.
“Hey, hey,” he said once he had walked - not so easily - to her. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his white T-shirt. She was grabbing him as if he was a lifebuoy. “What happened?”
As her only answer, her body broke into violent sobs. Bradley kept her close, stroking her hair gently, trying to soothe. It took what seemed to be like a couple of minutes for her to at least remember to breath and a couple more for her to be able to speak multiple words in a row. This time, Bradley held her through it all.
“Henry fell down the swing and the school called and- and-” Some more sobs rocked her body and Bradley only held her tighter, heart swelling of seeing her in this state. She must have had the scare of her life. Again.
“It’s okay,” Bradley reassured her. “Is he with a doctor now?”
She nodded, more tears falling down her cheeks. “He has a bad cut on his forehead,” sob, “needed stitches,” sob, “I couldn’t - I couldn’t” stay with him, Bradley understood even if she didn’t finish her sentence. “Shouldn’t see me like that.”
“It’s okay.”
Y/N was still grabbing his T-shirt like she would drown had she ever let go, so he held her a little more, wondering how long she had been in the ER waiting room, clearly in utter panic.
“Breathe with me,” he said. She looked up at him and gently, he dried off her tears. For one split second, he was brought back to that night, what felt like a hundred of years ago. He had promised her everything would be okay. How wrong had he been…
If anything, this was a very bad remake of their break-up.
“He is okay now, more fear than harm.” Y/N nodded, trying to gain back her composure. “You know, somebody told me one day that scars actually made you look pretty badass,” he pointed to his own scars on his chin and cheeks. “It will be a hit with girls and boys for sure.”
“I don’t remember saying that,” she finally smiled. There she is, he thought.
“Miss Y/L/N?” Y/N let go of him to turn to the doctor he understood was taking care of Henry. “We are all done. A nurse is doing his bandage right now. It will need to be redone once a day for a week and we’ll see him again in ten days to remove his stitches.”
Y/N squeezed the hand Bradley didn’t realize she was holding. She was relieved and still, she did not move when the doctor went away.
“You’ve got an automatic, right?” This made Y/N turned back to Bradley in surprise. He had that small smirk on his lips that she could recognize anywhere. The one that he offered when he had a surprise for her. Whatever it was a bath after an extremely long day or to watch Love Actually for the second night in a row when she was on her period. All she had to do back then was to follow his lead, she knew he would take care of her. The truth was, she would have followed him anywhere.
And even after all those years, she still trusted him.
“You do the paperwork, I’ll get him?” Y/N nodded slightly, muttering a quiet thank you. After yet another nod to make sure she was okay, Bradley finally let go of her hand and went to get Henry. On his way, he texted Mav to let him know he did not require a lift up from the hospital anymore. Something had come up, but he’ll explain later.
When Bradley entered the examination room, Henry was sat down on the examination table and a nurse was just finishing to put the last blaster on his forehead.
“Hey buddy!” Henry’s eyes face lifted up seeing Bradley on the doorstep, unfazed it was him rather than her aunt who went to get him. “A little birdie told me ice-cream would make it all better.”
Tumblr media
“Bradley!”
Against all will, the ice-cream little “date” had become a recurrent event now. It started ten days later when Henry had his stitches gotten taken out - Y/N asked if she could pick him up after PT to return him the favour. Then, it was a week or so later, for the end of the school year. Then again, on regular occurrence during the summer - sometimes with their friends and family. Some other times, just the three of them.
Today was the first day of the new school year, Henry’s first day of 1st grade. It also was six months now that Bradley had been in contact again with Y/N. Still a couple of weeks until he could get cleared for flying again. A couple of weeks until he would be deployed somewhere on this planet.
And Bradley, picking up Henry from school with ice-cream for celebration, wasn’t really sure how to feel about it; he had decided to elude the matter for now.
“Hey buddy!”
Bradley watched the little guy through his reversing mirror to make sure he was putting his seatbelt on before driving off. He and Y/N had planned to meet up at the beach, once she would have finished work.
On the way there, Henry told him all about Mrs Simpson, his new teacher; how he got lucky to be paired with his best friend, Tom in the class room, and how sure he was that, by Christmas, he would be able to read so they could share reading of his bedtime stories: “You’ll read Daddy Pig’ part and I’ll read Peppa Pig’ part, okay?”
Yes, after all, Bradley definitively did not want to think of his future deployment; he would rather just stay here, in this moment in times.
After taking a swim and perfecting Henry’s swimming techniques (Bradley had taught him how to swim during the summer in between two ice-cream dates), Bradley and Henry were in the middle of sandcastles building contest when Y/N finally arrived.
Bradley sat on the beach towel, Y/N at his side, as Henry excitingly told them about his day and most importantly, all the painting materials they had in his class and that he couldn’t wait to test. The sun was starting to decline in the distance, bathing them in its last warm sunshine. A soft breeze was tenderly blowing his hair. Y/N, with Henry on her knees, was sharing a story of her sister’s first day of ‘big girl’ school and her nephew had a million questions about his mom.
Like every time the subject was brought up in his presence, Bradley tried to add as much details as he remembered of Y/S/N. It was some of his best childhood memories after his dad died: Maverick and his mom making sure his dad’s memory was still alive. He hoped it would be the same for Henry.
“You know what our family tradition was to celebrate the first day of school year?” Henry shook his head no. “Pizza night!”
Bradley laughed as the boy’s face lighted up; he was quick to be on his feet and gather his stuff to get back to the car - it was probably the first time ever Henry would agree to leave the beach without making a fuss.
Y/N helped Bradley to get up - even if he had told her multiple times before that his knee was perfectly fine, she had still treated him as if he would fall down any time. He was attending his last physical therapy sessions by now and he had already started physical training at the base. In a few weeks, he would have to have a medical examination to confirm he could fly again; his accident was well behind him at this point.
Folding the beach towel together, Y/N took this as the opportunity to thank him again for picking up Henry that day.
“My pleasure,” Bradley had assured her.
“Seriously, I owe you big time. I couldn’t see myself putting him in afterschool for his first day.”
For a split second, Bradley saw on her face an expression he knew by heart but couldn’t quite recall what it was; the next second, she was continuing to file her bag with Henry’s beach toys. It took a moment more to Bradley to understand what he had just seen: guilt. The same guilt he had observed in his mom eyes when there were things he asked, and she couldn’t simply offer him as a single mom.
“I don’t know if you are being told that enough but Y/N,” He gently grabbed her wrist to make her stop filling her bag and look back at him. “You are doing more than good with Henry.”
“I am trying my best.”
“And you are doing good,” he assured her again, squeezing her hand in his. Realizing what he had just done, he grimaced slightly but Y/N was quick to reassure him and squeezing his hand in return. “Let’s go.”
Later that afternoon, they were sat down at Pizzeria Luigi, waiting for their pizza. Bradley and Henry were having a funny face contest - Bradley copiously winning despite all the kid’s efforts. Y/N was laughing along with them, the small intimacy moment they shared before was long forgotten.
“That’s a cute family you got there,” the waitress smiled as she put their pizza on the table.
“Oh, we are not-” Bradley started, but was quick to be cut by Y/N saying:
“Thanks!”
While Y/N exchanged a few more banalities with the waitress, Bradley looked at her, utterly touched she would consider him family. He was incredibly lucky she even accepted him in his life again, after how much he had hurt her. On the restaurant terrace, surrounded by the last rays of the summer sun, she looked so happy. When she looked at him with her big sparkly eyes and the biggest smile on her lips, his own heart swelled of happiness.
And he swore he could have kissed her. Right here, right now.
Tumblr media
“Henry, can you go wash your hands please? Dinner is almost-” Y/N passed a head through the kitchen door framing, looking what Henry was doing in the entrance corridor. “Bradley?”
“Hi,” he greeted her quietly from the doorstep, Henry by his side the doorknob still in his hand.
Bradley stayed silent, not moving, and his eyes wouldn’t quite meet Y/N’s. It wasn’t uncommon for him to come over - he was more and more these past weeks, but he was usually texting first to confirm he wasn’t imposing on them. Him showing up unannounced, at that time of the night, was odd.
“Your hands, please.” The kid passed in front of her on his way to the bathroom and Y/N waited for him to be gone before turning back to Bradley.
He was looking at a picture hooked up on the hall wall. The picture of his sister’s wedding on which her sister, her husband, Bradley and she were all smiling. It has been taken a few weeks before he was accepted into the academy. A few months before her whole world crashed down. He had walked by a multitude of times before, yet today he couldn’t take his eyes off it.
“Bradley?”
Bradley’s attention finally went back to her, a look on his face Y/N couldn’t quite read. It wasn’t the apologetic look he had worn when he broke up with her. It wasn’t the mask of fury she had seen on his face when he had explained to her one night that his US Naval Academy application had been rejected, by Mav out of all people. It wasn’t either the naturally serious face he would most often wear, nor the sly smirk she had seen on his lips so many times.
His stare was even darker than usual and heavy on her. She couldn’t quite figure out what he wanted to say if he wasn’t using words. One thing she had learned with Bradley was to not rush him and let him come to her.
“We were about to eat, mind to join us?” She asked instead of the millions of questions in her head.
He only nodded, not speaking a word. Y/N took another look at him before heading back to the kitchen.
They stayed silent for a couple of minutes in the kitchen, waiting for Henry to come back from the bathroom. Knowing the kid, with the times he was taking, he was probably making a mess with the soap in there, but none of them went checking on him.
Y/N was watching the vegetables cooking and Bradley was leaned against the kitchen sink unit, deeply in his thoughts, arms crossed over the short-sleeve shirt he still wore even if it was already late October.
“I’ve been cleared.”
Y/N was surprised by the tone of his voice - if there was only one thing for which Bradley was living, it would be flying. “Is that… a bad thing?”
Bradley sighed, passing a hand on his face. He had only received the news about an hour ago and the first thing he had done was to drive to Y/N’s place. He had tried so hard not to think about this moment and what he would do - as if he had any other option than just to follow the orders. Now that the moment had come, it didn’t feel right with him.
“I-” another sigh, “these last months, I just realized what I could have had if-”
If he hadn’t felt like he had to do it on his own.
If he hadn’t been too scared of hurting her.
All those moments he shared with Y/N and Henry over the last few months had made him realized that his own fear - of hurting the people he loved and especially leaving them behind - had prevented him to live some beautiful moments. He had self-sabotaged himself, breaking off with Y/N so he could be sure she wasn’t hurt by his choices - ironically enough. He had shut her off, convincing himself somehow that he was doing the right thing for the both of them - and how wrong had he been, those last few months had proven him.
“Do you remember what you told me when you broke up with me?” Y/N asked suddenly, making Bradley look back at her. He wasn’t exactly sure what he had said besides ‘sorry’ and ‘I love you’. When he thought about that night, he could only remember her tears, her hands grabbing his shirt and not wanting to let go of him. She had fought for them, so hard, but he had already made up his mind.
He shook his head no as Y/N moved closer.
"Sometimes good things fall apart so better things can come together,” Y/N reeled out quietly as if she had re-lived this scene over and over again in her head.
Bradley laughed bitterly, “I overdid myself on that one, didn’t I.”
Y/N wasn’t laughing. She was staring at him, this determined look on her face. Like she had waited for this moment for a while now. “I do think that is true, somehow,” Y/N smiled softly.
She had thought about this a lot over the last few weeks - it wasn’t just only her now, she was also responsible for Henry. It wasn’t her intention falling back in love with him, after Bradley got back in her life. She had been pleased to find in him a friend, a friend that had rekindled a flame inside her with his sly grin and attention. She felt more alive than ever. He made her feel so… whole.
Heart pounding, Bradley watched her intensely. There were unspoken words in the air, words neither of them wanted to stay out loud, too afraid it would break the spell. He knew looking at her now that they were on the same page. He knew he could let go of his fear; whatever life had in store for them would always be worth it.
They could have stayed like this forever. But Y/N couldn’t let her chance pass.
Without warning, she kissed him. If he hadn’t been leaned against the unit, Bradley would have fallen backwards from the feeling of her lips on his, how his hands found her hips by instinct to bring her closer to him, and how he could feel the warmth radiating off her. It was like in his best memories, and just like it had always have been: two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly.
“What does that mean?” he whispered as he pressed his forehead to hers. He needed her to say it.
“That, perhaps, you could add me back as your emergency contact?”
849 notes · View notes
julesclues · 12 days
Text
Battlefield Bonds
Warnings: war (I feel like that’s a given), gun shot wound, clean up of an injury
Pairing(s): Simon “Ghost” Riley x f!reader
Word count: 7.3k
Notes: your code name is “Phoenix” and Soap has a wife and kid
a/n, might do a part two to this, but it's not necessarily needed. pls lmk if you want another part! if enough people want another part, then I'll do one. Until then, enjoy!
Summary: After Graves betrays the team, everyone is split up. You manage to escape with Soap, but he has some bad news: Ghost is no where to be found. Determined to not leave him behind, you venture out into the corrupt town with nothing but fear and a pocket knife. But, of course, something always has to go wrong.
Tumblr media
Driving up to the base, you can feel something is wrong as the car comes to a stop. You turn to Ghost sitting in the driver’s seat, but his eyes are drawn to the situation at hand. You turn back, seeing Graves and the other Shadows exit the vehicle. Everyone else has the same idea, including you and Ghost.
“What’s this?” Alejandro asks, pointing at Graves with confusion. You turn to Ghost and he looks at you, shaking his head ever so slightly. “This is the immediate future,” Graves replies. “Step away from the gate.” Two Shadows exit the back of the vehicle you and Ghost were in. They both stand behind the two of you, weapons in hand. Ghost looks over his shoulder, and back to you, and you could tell he was aware something was about to go down. Something was definitely wrong. “What?” Soap asks, walking up behind Alejandro, eyes trained on Graves. “You heard me,” Graves says in a monotone voice. “You’re crazy,” Alejandro claims with a shrug. “This is my base.” 
“It’s not a base. This is a sizeable convert facility and I admire it,” Graves says with slight amusement in his voice. “So, I’m taking it. You all have been relived. Thank you for your service.” Immediately, Alejandro takes a step closer to Graves. You could feel your heart racing now, not sure how this was going down, nor what Graves’ intentions were. “No, I don’t take orders from you.” You could also feel the anger radiating off of Alejandro. Ghost was pissed too, his body tense and ready for any violence about to take place. “Didn’t Valeria say that? Now that makes me wonder what else I don’t know about your affiliation with a drug-lord.” Alejandro looks back at Soap with a chuckle and steps forward. “What the fuck did you just say to me, pendjo..?” 
Soap grabs Alejandro’s shoulder before he could do anything. “You’re out of line, Graves,” Soap speaks up. “This is ridiculous!” You yell from the side of the car, Ghost eyeing you, and a Shadow behind you taking a tiny step forward. “Don’t do that. Don’t.. do that.” Graves points to you and Soap. “No one needs to get hurt here.” 
“Are you threatening us?” Asks Ghost, his voice echoing through the dead of night. “Solider, I don’t make threats. I make guarantees. So let’s not do this.” 
You scoff and throw your hands in the air, walking toward Alejandro and Soap. Eyes locked on Graves, you shake your head. “You’re a disgrace to the army, Graves. I’m calling Shepherd.” Turning your back, you begin to walk back to Ghost and the car. 
“General Shepherd sends his regards.” 
You stop dead in your tracks, eyes widening and now on Ghost. He tilts his head slightly, hand on his side and very close to his pistol. “He told me ya’ll wouldn’t take this well.” 
“He knows about this?” Ghost asks in disbelief as you turn around to face Graves yet again. “Ya’ll need to stand down. It’s time to let the pros finish this. And why the hell are we talking like this is some kind of negotiation? It’s not. I’ve got my orders, and now you have yours.” Ghost goes to walk up to you, but a Shadow grabs his shoulder, holding him in place. You take note of this. 
“And who the fuck do you think you are, cabrón?” Raising his voice, Alejandro points to his base. “My men are inside!” 
“I’m afraid not,” Graves smiles. “Your men have been.. detained.”
Angry and betrayed, Alejandro lunges toward Graves but a Shadow stops him, throwing him against the car and knocking him out with the end of his gun. They zip tie his hands, leaving him trapped. “Graves, what the fuck?!” You yell, as Soap retreats from the gun fire. He grabs a Shadow to use as a body shield. Ghost elbows the shadow behind him, as you grab you side gun and spin, shooting the one behind you. Ghost throws a knife at a Shadow too close for comfort, and grabs your wrist, throwing both you and him to the floor for cover. 
Graves shoots the Shadow Soap was using as a shield, catapulting him to the ground. You could see him from the other side of underneath the car, scrambling for his gun and injured. “Go to Soap,” Ghost says to you, but you scoff. “No, why would I leave you?”
“He’s injured, I’m not. Go Phoenix! That’s an order.”
“Sir-”
“Go.”
Scoffing yet again, you crawl behind the car and up to Soap, helping roll the guy off and helping him up. Ghost follows behind, the red tail light of the car illuminating his mask. “Go, now! Both of you, get out of there.” 
“Ghost-!”
“Y/n, now!”
Panting, you look at Soap as he grabs your hand and leads you to the woods. Hesitant, you follow. You both slide down the slippery slope, as gun fire follows. “Fuck,” Soap hisses, holding his side. Then, nothing but silence. 
Minutes turn into hours as you and Soap find an empty house to hold up. “What the fuck is going on?” You ask, running your hands through your hair, as Soap grunts, sitting down on the nearest chair. He doesn’t respond, but keeps trying comms, as he has been for the past two hours. Yours had been destroyed by the gunfire. 
“This is Bravo 7-1 in the blind along with Phoenix.. How copy?” Silence.
“Still nothing?” You ask. He shakes his head. “I’m starting to lose hope,” he chuckles. But he’s not joking at all. 
All of a sudden, static is heard from his radio. “Bravo 7-1 this is Bravo 0-6, how copy?” Your eyes widen along with Soap’s, and you smile widely. “Price, thank god. We’re alive, I’m with Phoenix.”
“Lovely to hear. Spoke to Laswell, Shepherd’s off the grid. We’ll speak more when my evac team comes to pick you up. We’re five minutes out.” Soap lets out a sigh of relief but you’re a little more guarded.
“Sir,” you start, directed toward Price. “What about the others? Alejandro was taken and Ghost.. well, we don’t know where he is. We need to look for him.”
“Negative, Phoenix. I’m sending an evac team, not a rescue squad. I’m afraid they’re on their own.” You scoff and look at Soap. He looks down.
“That’s bullshit!”
“I don’t like it anymore than you do, I’m all for no man left behind. But we need to be in good shape if we’re going to save the others.”
“They won’t make it if we don’t start a rescue mission now,” you hiss. “Phoenix-“ Soap starts, but you ignore him. “No, I won’t do it. I won’t leave them behind. Price, if not now, when is the next evac chopper available?” He pauses for a brief second before answering you. “Not for another week, Phoenix. With Shepard off the grid, we’re low on supplies and men… two minutes out. We’ll talk when my team gets to you, over and out.” You turn to Soap and shake your head with a sigh. He speaks up. “Y/n, Ghost is not answering comms. We have no idea where he is, and evac is about to be here. We have to go.” You shove Soap lightly, remembering he’s injured and run your hands over your face due to stress. “No way in hell, Soap! I’m not leaving him!” 
“Phoenix-”
“He’s our lieutenant- fuck that, he’s our friend! It’s Simon for fucks sake! I’m not leaving him!” You’ve never called Ghost by his real name before. Soap knows you’re serious. “I don’t want to leave him either but another evac chopper won’t be available for another week! You heard Price. I have a wife and kid at home, and our chances out here for another seven hours, let alone seven days, is slim to none. You and I both know it.” You give Soap a death stare as you both hear the evac chopper approach. You understand where he’s coming from, and if you were in the same situation, perhaps you would’ve made the same choice. 
But you weren’t. No one was waiting for you at home. Your only family was Task Force 141. 
“Then I’ll take my chances. I’m going after him.” 
Sighing, Soap nods and grabs your shoulders. “Please be careful. Between the Shadows and the weather.. I mean, it’s pishin a doon out here.” 
“..English, MacTavish.”
“It’s raining fucking hard.” You chuckle at the voice change and grab his hand on your shoulder. “I’ll see you in a week, Johnny,” you yell, due to the chopper landing. Before boarding the chopper, Soap takes out his comms and hands it to you. “So you can stay in touch with us all, and potentially find Ghost.” You nod at him, symbolizing a ‘thank you.’ Soap grabs Price’s hand to get on the chopper and turns back to you. “Be safe Y/n.” 
You salute both him and the Captain, and watch them fly away to safety. Taking a deep inhale, you set off to the town to find your lieutenant. “Ghost, it’s Phoenix? Do you copy?” Silence, yet again. “Fuck,” you whisper. You walk into the town, and instantly hear a bunch of Shadows along with gunfire and screams. With only fear and a pocket knife, you make your way into an empty home, searching for anything and everything that could help increase your chances of survival. And, of course, finding Ghost. 
“Soap? Phoenix? How copy?”
His deep voice in your ear startles you, but you don’t hesitate to respond. “Ghost! Fuck, I thought I- we lost you.” 
“Can’t get rid of me that easily, Phoenix. Where’s Johnny?”
“He left,” you say. “Price and his evac team arrived and Soap went with them.” 
“Why didn’t you go too?” 
“Guess I just can’t live without you, Lieutenant.” 
Ghost pauses before replying with a question. “You stayed behind to look for me?”
“Affirmative.” 
“Wrong choice, soldier.”
“We’ll talk about that when I see you, sir. For now, let me just get to you. Where are you?”
“The church on the north side of town. Shadow activity is silent.”
“Silent? Where are they all?”
“Hell.”
You chuckle at Ghost’s comment. “I’m coming to you, sir. Just stay where you are, I think I’m close to the north side of town.” Ghost doesn’t reply, mainly because you don’t give him a chance to. “Are you okay?” 
“I’m alive,” he replies. “You?” You smile to yourself, making your way through the houses as a way to cover yourself from being too much in the open. “I’m alive,” you say, repeating his words. 
Walking in the town surrounded by enemies didn’t seem to bad now that you had Ghost to guide you. You two had never really gotten a chance to know each other. That was mainly because of the fact that he was laid back and silent half of the time.
“Two goldfish are in a tank…”
“What?” He repeats himself, word for word. “Go on..”
“One turns to the other and says, “You know how to drive this thing?”” You chuckle and shake your head, though you know he can’t see you. “Little army humor.”
“Very little.”
“We can do this all night, L/n.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of, sir.” And you swear, for the first time ever, Ghost actually laughs. Well, maybe it was more of a chuckle, but that counts. You made Ghost laugh. That’s a win in your book. You can’t wait to tell the rest of your team. “Location?” He asks, distracting you from your thoughts. “I’m in the coffee shop.”
“Get us a tea, yeah?”
“Tequila sounds better right about now.”
“I’d murder for a whisky.”
“You mean scotch?”
“I drink bourbon.”
“Like a good boy.” He’s silent now, and you cringe the second the words come out of your mouth. “Sorry sir, that was—“
“Always have confidence, L/n. Don’t apologize for speaking. If you say bourbon means I’m a good boy, then I guess I am.” You smile to yourself and walk out of the shop, not forgetting to grab a few more supplies on the way out. After a couple moments you say, “You’re gonna owe me for this.”
“Why?”
“We’re fixing each other’s problems.”
“What’s my problem?”
“The mask… take it off.”
“Show my face?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Negative.”
“Are you ugly?”
“Quite the opposite.” You laugh a little too loud for someone whose on a stealth mission. You feel your face heat up a bit, and can’t help but wonder what he actually looks like underneath the mask. It’s killing you to know. “Guess you’re taking your ‘confidence’ advice, huh lieutenant?”
“Just speaking the truth, Y/n.” Boy if you weren’t flushed before, you definitely were now. The way he says your name in a low, hushed voice brings heat to your cheeks in an instant. “Location?”
“I can see the church now. I’m exiting the green house across the street. Do you see it, sir?” Before he could answer, you open the door but you’re knocked down by a Shadow.
“I got one sir! It’s Phoenix!” You scramble to get your knife but the Shadow steps on your hand, kicking the knife away. “Kill her,” you hear Graves yell from half a klick away. The Shadow points his gun at you and you close your eyes to prepare for the inevitable. But it doesn’t come, as a shot is heard and the Shadow above you falls forward, landing on you. You take his gun and shove him off of you, taking cover by the fountain in front of the church.
“Was that you Ghost?”
“Who else?”
“Thank you sir. I’m approaching the front of the church as we speak.”
“Coming out now, Phoenix. Watch your fire.”
Your gaze never leaves the front of the church, and soon enough, your eyes lands on Ghost. You let out a sigh of relief, watching him run toward you and throw himself over the fence to meet you at the stairs. “Ghost!” You yell with joy, but he grabs your hand and leads you down the stairs with him. “We need a vehicle! On me L/n.” He lets go of your hand and you’re right on his tail, running through the town having almost every Shadow after you. Ghost finds a pickup truck and you turn, shooting some more to try anything and everything to escape.
“Get in Phoenix!” He yells. He jumps into the drivers seat but before he could get in, he's dragged out by a Shadow. Before thr guy could even get his hands on Ghost, you shot the Shadow right between the eyes. "Thanks for that," Ghost says, a bit out of breath. "No probl-"
As you open the passenger door, however, you’re tackled by a Shadow and begin to brawl on the ground. “Get the fuck off me!” You scream, fighting the guy above you. He grabs his pistol and points it toward the right side of your torso and smirks. He pins your wrists above your head using of his hands, and your eyes go wide.
You hear a gun shot, quickly followed by another, and the guy above you falls on top of you. But you’re frozen and every sound around you is muffled. You hear Ghost calling your name and pushing the guy off of you. Just then, your hearing comes back into focus but an intense pain shoots through your entire body.
You were shot.
Before Ghost was able to kill the guy, that fucker had shot you. And shit, did it hurt like hell.
You whimper out as Ghost kneels down besides you. “Fuck,” he curses. “We gotta get out of here. Can you walk?” He asks, cupping your face with his hand. You had already begun to feel lightheaded by the blood loss but managed to nod your head anyways. Ghost nods too and lifts you up on your feet, causing you to wobble and yelp in pain.
“Get into the car. I got you, don’t you dare pass out L/n. If you can walk, then fucking walk!” Your head was pounding as you lifted yourself into the passenger side of the car, slamming the door shut. Once it’s closed, Ghost slams on the gas and you fly back into the seat, groaning and putting your hand on your wound to try and stop the bleeding as best as possible. Still, blood seeps through the gaps between your fingers. “Fuck,” you hiss, and Ghost glances you at while speeding away. You look in the rear view mirror and realize you’re not being followed anymore, letting out a sigh of relief. Ghost slows down a bit, now just driving along the abandoned highway, still on the look out but also paying attention to you.
“How’re you doing, Phoenix?” He asks, as you adjust in your seat. You let out a long exhale and blink slowly, wanting to fall asleep. “Hurts like hell,” you say, slurring your words slightly. As you push against the wound and fight to stay awake, Ghost pulls up to a safe house. He gets out of the car and your eyes follow him as he rushes to your side of the car, opening the door. He reaches over you and pulls your seat belt off. Your right hand goes behind his neck and he hooks his arm underneath your legs to carry you.
You whimper in pain as he lifts you, closing the door with his foot. “Ghost..” you whisper, and he looks down at you. “Don’t fall asleep,” is all he has to say as he rushes to the safe house. “Where are we?” You manage to mumble out. “Alejandro’s safe house. He gave me the coordinates, it was need to know.”
“What if I needed to know?”
“Shh. Let’s just worry about getting you fixed up, yeah?”
“So you do care about me?”
“I care about you alive.”
You chuckle softly as he enters the house. Empty and dark, he finds a near by table to prop you down on. You grunt, adjusting yourself on the table as he scouts the area to make sure no one is with you guys. Once the area is deemed to be clear, he looks for supplies to clean you up. You feel yourself blink slowly and look around.
You vision is somewhat dark as you feel yourself wanting to just go to sleep. Just for an hour, and you’ll be back on your feet in no time. But before you can do that, Ghost comes back and makes eye contact with you. “Permission to lift your shirt?” Ghost asks, and you chuckle slightly. “Affirmative, sir. You can peak if you want. You deserve it for helping me.” You smirk as you slur your words and Ghost just sighs. “You’re definitely out of it, Phoenix.” He lifts up your shirt right below your chest and you breathe heavily. He examines the wound, his fingertips grazing around the wound, not touching it. It still hurt, so you groaned out and lifted your left arm above your head.
As Ghost’s eyes were glued on your injury, yours were glued on his face. The mask didn’t show much at all, except for his eyes. You couldn’t even tell what his face structure was, or what color his hair was. It could be blue for all you know. But his eyes.. His eyes gave away his emotions almost immediately.
He was scared.
Ghost‘s eyes were always cold, always empty and filled with no emotion whatsoever. But now, for some reason, he let himself show emotion, show his, some what, vulnerable side.
Honestly, you didn’t think the guy was afraid of anything.
He turns back to the supplies he was able to obtain and you close your eyes momentarily. You were scared too, of course. Sure, you were a solider, a fighter. But that doesn’t mean you had a death wish. You wanted to go back home and lay down on your bed, watching stupid reality shows that meant absolutely nothing.
He turns back around with bandages, surgical forceps, and gauze. “I’m gonna start now, okay darling?” You scoff with a smile, looking up at him. “You pull up my shirt and now you call me darling? Seems like we’re getting somewhere, Lieutenant.”
“Are you always this flirty when you’re on the brink of dying?”
“Only with you, sir.” He exhales and so do you. “I’m ready. Just please, try not to kill me, alright?” 
“No promises,” he says as he nods slightly and brings the gauze to your wound, making contact with it. You hiss in pain, arching your back slightly and shutting your eyes. The gauze absorbed your blood almost immediately, causing Ghost to quickly replace them with clean ones. After a couple minutes of this, Ghost grabs the forceps and breathes deeply.
He brings the forceps to you wound, and begins digging for the bullet. You bite down on your hand, making teeth marks in your skin to try and muffle your sounds. “You can scream, we’re safe. They won’t hear you,” Ghost says with slight concern in his voice. You immediately start to scream in pain as Ghost looks for the bullet in your torso. “Fuck! Please- oh god, it hurts so bad! Fuck, I can’t- oh god Ghost, stop!”
He immediately stops, halting his actions but not removing the forceps. “I can’t stop, Phoenix. I need to keep going. We need this bullet out.” Tears pour down your face as you look up at Ghost. Whispering, you speak to him.
“I don’t want to die, Simon.”
His eyes go wide, surprised that you said his real name. Normally he wouldn’t let anyone say his name, but it sounded different with you. He liked it.
He brings his hand to your cheek as a sign of comfort. “Then let me do this. I know it hurts, trust me, I know. But I don’t want you to die either. If I get this bullet out, you’ll be okay.”
“You promise?”
“I promise, Y/n.” You knew he was making a promise he couldn’t guarantee, but it still reassured you. You huffed in frustration and pain, allowing Ghost to continue his work on you. The forceps moved again, making you yelp in pain. Ghost was mumbling half to himself and half to you. He repeated the words “I’m sorry” and “You’re okay” like a mantra. But you barley heard him. Between the pain and your screams, your hearing was muffled. 
Sooner or later, you gasped as you felt Ghost retract the forceps. Your eyes shot open and landed on the bloody bullet between the tongs. “Gotcha,” he whispered. “Oh thank god,” you chuckled, feeling woozy and tired. You heard the bullet fall into a metal bowl, but as Ghost’s face appeared above you, you saw your vision fading. “Simon,” you slurred. “Stay with me, Phoenix. Hey, don’t sleep.” But you couldn’t do it. The blood loss was too much. 
Within seconds, you had passed out. 
~~
Your eyes flutter open, instantly squinting as you make contact with an overhead light. You groan, feeling a comfortable mattress underneath you. You go to sit up, but instantly yell out in pain, almost forgetting of the injury on your side. Your head hits the mattress again as you fall back. Sitting up was too painful. But you were alive. Your mind wandered to Ghost, wondering where he was and how the hell he managed to save your life once you had passed out. 
You were ripped from your thoughts as you felt the bed next to you shift. Your head snaps toward that direction, and your eyes land on Ghost. He was sitting up next to you, armor still on and gun directly on the nightstand next to him. “Phoenix? You’re awake? Are you okay?” Bombarded with questions, you begin to chuckle, meeting his eyes. “I’m still hurting bad, but I’m alive. That’s gotta count for something, right sir?” He stayed silent, just watching you with squinted eyes. You felt bad that he had to save and fix you. “I’m sorry,” you apologize, closing your eyes in guilt. “Between you having to save me from that guy, then having to carry me and fix my wounds? Not to mention me passing out. I.. I didn’t mean to put you in that position, Ghost. I’m sorry.” By this time, you open your eyes and find that he has his face rested in his hands, elbows on his knees. He turns to you and places a hand on your thigh, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin. 
“Did you purposely get shot?” He asks nonchalantly. Confused, you shake your head. “Then don’t worry about it. You didn’t get shot on purpose, and you didn’t die. If anything, I’m.. I’m sorry. You stayed back because of me.” You put your hand on top of his on your thigh and smile softly, feeling extremely tired. “You didn’t force me to stay back, sir. It was my decision. We saved each other in a way, if you think about it. How about we call it even?” Even under the mask, you could tell he smiled ever so slightly. “I like the sound of that.” 
Ghost stands up and grabs his gun, keeping it on his possession. “How long was I out?” You ask, turning your head to face him. “About a couple hours. We need an evac chopper though, need to get you to a real medic. You need a blood transfusion and I can’t do that here. Don’t have the supplies.” 
You wince, feeling the wound throb a bit. “Another evac chopper won’t be here for a week,” you admit. He turns to you quickly in disbelief. “Price told me when he came to pick up Soap.” Ghost curses and sits down on a chair across the room, still in sight. “You won’t make it that long,” he says angrily. “You should’ve gone with them, Phoenix. Fuck, you should’ve just left me and went back safely.” You scoff and roll your eyes. “I wasn’t going to, and there was nothing you could say or do that would’ve made me leave.” 
“I would’ve ordered you to leave with Johnny.” 
“I wouldn’t have.” 
“You would disobey a direct order?” 
“If it meant saving your life, then yes. I would.”
Ghost stayed silent, lifting his skull mask above his face to just leave him in his balaclava. You were able to see his eyes more properly. They were beautiful and you were always going to think that. You’d probably never tell him though. Telling your lieutenant that he has pretty eyes? A little awkward.
“You’re delusional, L/n,” he shoots back. You could tell he was conflicted and honestly, so were you. Sure, you weren’t going to leave him behind. Even if he was one of the best soldiers you’ve ever seen and could easily take care of himself, you didn’t want to abandon him. You didn’t want him to be alone. “Would you have done the same for me?” You ask, and without hesitation, he replies yes. “So why is it so unbelievable that I would do it for you?” He ignored your question and grabbed his radio, trying to reach someone. He obviously didn’t want to talk, so you didn’t pressure him. This was a conversation for later.
“Ghost to Price, how copy?” After a couple of seconds, radio static is heard. “Ghost, good to hear from you. Phoenix with you?” Ghost turns to you and makes eye contact. He doesn’t break it as he responds to Price. “Affirmative, but she’s injured, lost a lot of blood. She won’t make it if we don’t get an evac team here soon.” You cringe at Ghost’s bluntness about your death, but you knew he couldn’t sugarcoat anything. This was a legit life or death situation. “Shepard’s off the grid, we only have one chopper available. Men and supplies are insanely limited, everything has gone to shit. Getting an evac chopper and team to you guys is easier said than done. We don’t-“
“I’m not asking, Price.” Ghost cuts off Price, and silence lingers in the air, along with his anger. “I am your Captain and superior, Lieutenant. You will treat me as such or we’ll have problems.” Ghost scoffs and paces through the room, your eyes following his every movement as you listen to their conversation. “No. We’ll have problems if Y/n doesn’t get a blood transfusion within the next seventy-two hours. If she dies Captain, it’s on you.”
“Ghost, I understand the safety and well-being on your fellow soldiers is important to you, but understand when I say that it can’t be done.” Ghost shakes his head, though Price can’t see it. “Ghost maybe you should-“ You start, but he shoots you a glare that shuts you up instantly. There was no changing his mind on this. He was very persistent and wasn’t going to stop until he got you back to safety. “Can’t be done or won’t be done, Captain?”
“Can’t. We only have one chopper throughout the entire force right now. One.”
“And where is that chopper now?” Price was silent, which confused you and Ghost. So, he repeated his question. “On the ground at our base.”
“So why the fuck can’t you use that chopper to come to us?”
“If Graves’ or Shepard’s location is confirmed, we need it to go after them. We are prioritizing.”
“This is horseshit!” Ghost yells, slamming his fist on the desk, making you jump. “You’re willing to sacrifice Y/n’s life in order to get back at Graves and Shepard?! You’re a piss poor of a Captain. I thought we leave no man behind, under no circumstances.” Price is silent, as if he was thinking about Ghost’s words and what to do. You understand where both Price and Ghost were coming from. The circumstances were unlike no other, everyone was confused.
“I’ll see what I can do. I’ll radio back in an hour to let you know about an evac team. Just.. just keep her alive Ghost, okay?” You smile as Ghost turns to you and gives you a thumbs up. “Affirmative, sir. Over and out.” You try to sit back up with some struggle, and Ghost rushes over to you to help you. “Easy there,” he mumbles, but you manage to do it. You were breathing a little heavy from the lingering pain in your torso and the blood still seeping out of you. The bleeding had slowed down greatly but Ghost was right. With no help soon, your chances of making it would be slim to none.
“Why’d you do that?” You ask Ghost. He stays silent for a moment. He wasn’t even sure himself why we was so persistent and angry with Price. He would never challenge a superior like that.
“You asked if I would do the same for you. This isn’t quite the same, but Price might have my head on a stick for speaking to him in such a way. I risked my life for you.” You try not to laugh so hard at his words in fear of the injury pain. “I’m glad you’re laughing,” he says, making you tilt your head in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“You got betrayed by Graves, stayed back in a town where your chances of getting killed are high, proceeded to get shot, lost a shit ton of blood, and if help isn’t here within three days, you won’t make it. All within a span of fifteen hours. And yet.. you’re smiling and laughing. I don’t get it.” You hum, looking down at your hands and picking at your fingernails. “I don’t know, I guess I just..” You look up at Ghost and smile sadly.
“You make me happy, I guess. I don’t know. I mean, even when you were fixing me up before, I was making stupid flirty comments with you. And even before that, I called you a good boy for liking bourbon. I guess you just being with me and by my side makes me feel a little better about being in a fucking war against not only the bad guys, but the Shadows too. Everything has gone to shit. Since Graves betrayed us, I’ve been scared about who to trust, questioning everyone. But you? I’ve never doubted you once. You helping me survive, fighting Price just to get me to safety, reassuring me with kind words even though a couple minutes before you were threatening your Captain. It makes me feel good. You make me feel good. So yeah, if these are my last days, it’ll be filled with pain and agony but at least you’ll be there with me, Simon.”
Ghost just looks at you, but his eyes give away nothing. He was silent, which caused you to become a little anxious and regretful for your words. “Y/n-“
“Price to Ghost, do you copy?” Startled, Ghost scrambled to grab the radio and respond. Great fucking timing. “This is Ghost, go ahead sir,” he says, clearing his throat and shaking his head slightly. “Good news. An evac chopper will be at your location in the next ten hours. Looks like Phoenix won’t be six feet under any time soon after all.”
“Don’t jinx me, Captain,” you yell from the bed. Price chuckles quietly. “Ghost,” he starts. “I’m glad I got the confirmation from Laswell to come and pick you guys up. But if you ever dispute with me again, I will fight you myself.”
“You’ll lose, Captain.”
“What was that?”
“…I said yes sir. I understand.”
“Oh and one more thing Ghost. Though I didn’t like how you spoke to me one bit, we’re a team. Phoenix is injured, and death is a pretty permanent thing. If you didn’t speak to me the way you did, this most likely wouldn’t be going your way. You did good, Lieutenant. I can tell you care about her. See you soon, over and out.”
Simon didn’t like the feeling he felt when Price admitted he noticed the care for you. Ghost didn’t like to be vulnerable. So the fact that you’ve been able to tear down his brick walls without him even noticing made him cringe with uncomfortable feelings. “He’s right, you know,” you say, pulling him away from his thoughts. “What?”
“About it all. Well, I don’t know how much you care for me,” you chuckle. “It’s kind of ethically wrong if you’re in the army and let me die. But otherwise, he’s right. You did good, stood your ground.” Ghost scoffs and walks over to the window, pulling down the blinds with his two fingers to look outside. He chooses to stay silent, mainly because he genuinely doesn’t know what to say.
The words you said before Price interrupted flood into his mind. The fact that you could care about and trust him without ever even seeing his face was beyond his comprehension. He may be one of the smartest and logical people out there, but you will always confuse him more than he’d like to admit. He just can’t seem to figure you out.
The room is filled with a silence. Comfortable, but still quiet. All that is heard is the muffled gunfire outside, flooding the town with each passing minute. That is, until your mattress creaks as you try to swing your feet over the left side of the bed in order to make an attempt to stand.
The sound catches Ghost’s attention and in less than a second, he’s by your side. “What do you think you’re doing?” You grunt, still trying your best to move without any pain. “Bathroom,” is all you say before Ghost sighs, yet again, and holds your shoulders to keep you in place. “Can you walk?” He asks, and you exhale. “Yeah,” you lie. “You’re a shitty liar,” he remarks, making you smile slightly. “I can do this myself. I’m a soldier, a gunshot wound won’t kill me.” He shakes his head, mainly due to annoyance. “Without me, you would’ve died.” You chuckle dryly, holding your side with a cough. “You give yourself too much credit.”
“What happened to you saying I helped you survive?”
“Oh, so you did listen to that whole speech I gave before.”
“Didn’t really have a choice, L/n.”
“You could’ve walked out of the room, Riley.” You pause briefly and after realizing he isn’t responding, you speak up. “I have a theory that you liked what I said.” Now, it was his turn to chuckle. “What makes you so sure?” He asks in a low voice. “When Price interrupted our wonderful moment,” he rolls his eyes, “you cleared your throat and shook your head. I think I made you flustered.”
“I don’t get flustered.”
“You’re a shitty liar.” You repeat his words from before. “What happened to you needing to use the bathroom?” He tries to change the subject, mainly because you were spot on. He was flustered with what you said about him. No one’s ever been so nice to him. Saying that they trust him, that they care about him. It was riveting, to say the least.
“Oh yeah,” you giggle, and use his arm for stability to stand. When you do, however, your knees buckle and you almost fall down if it wasn’t for Ghost. “Fuck,” you whisper. “I hate feeling like this,” you sigh, but all Ghost does is look at you and help you up. He wraps his arm around your waist, careful not to make contact with your wound. You wrap your left arm around his back and limp to the bathroom on the floor. “I’m glad you spoke up to Price,” you admit, making your way to the bathroom. “Me too,” Ghost says. “I’m glad we’re getting you the help you need.” You could hear the smile in his voice. You were glad he was around and though you were stuck in a sticky situation, at least you were with him.
After making it to the bathroom with Ghost’s help, you both decided to rest some more and wait for help to arrive. You deserved to rest with the long day you had. After sleeping and resting for what seemed like days, you felt someone shake you. Startled, your eyes shoot open with a gasp. “Hey, it’s just me,” you hear Ghost whisper. “Price is here with the evac team. Let’s get the fuck outta here, yeah?” You smile up at him and grab his hand that was on your shoulder. “Thank fucking god.”
“Good to see you alive and well,” Price yells because of the loud sounds from the chopper. “Alive, yes. Well, not so much. Let’s just get out of here,” you yell back, leaning onto Ghost for support. Price helps you into the chopper by pulling you, while Ghost pushes you from behind. It hurt your wound but you pushed through it, finally making it onto the chopper and into a seat with a sigh of relief. Looking around waiting for Ghost to get on the chopper, you see Gaz and Soap. They salute you and wave, and you smile at them. “Nice to see you again, lass,” Soap says with a smile. “Glad you’re not dead,” he adds. “It feels like I am,” you say. He smiles and leans over to grab your shoulder. “Let’s get you home and fixed, yeah?”
“Sounds like a dream, Johnny.”
~~
Hours later, you all finally make it back to base. You’re instantly brought into the med bay with Ghost and Soap’s help. They slowly drop you down onto a bed and you groan in pain. “You alright, lass?” Soap asks you, and you just smile with your eyes closed and an exhale. “I’ve been better. But this big guy over here helped keep me alive. Ain’t that right, Simon?” You ask, opening your eyes and see that he’s already looking down at you. He puts his hand on your head and pats you lightly. “Get some rest, and please get fixed up for fucks sake. You’ve lost too much blood. I’m gonna go talk to Price.” He then turns to Soap, making eye contact with him as he removes his hand from your head. “If anything changes with her, and I mean anything, you call me. Got it?” Soap nods at his lieutenant, and watches him leave the med bay, leaving you two alone. Soap looks down at you and smiles softly. “You know,” he starts, sitting down next to you as you both wait for the doctor. “You’re the only one he allows to call his first name.” You look at Soap quietly, not really knowing what to say. You chuckle softly and shake your head. “I-I’m sure that’s not true,” you say, but all Soap does is laugh. “It is, lass. Think about it. Have you ever heard anyone else call him his first name?”
You think about it for a brief moment and realize he’s right. And the fact that he never corrected you when you called him Simon? Maybe he didn’t mind you calling him that. Or then again, maybe it was pity. You’re injured, after all. You scoff and shove him lightly. “Shut up,” you chuckle. Before he could respond, the doctor walks in and Soap gets up almost immediately. “I’ll let you get the help you need, a’ight? I’m glad you’re okay.” He pats your head like Ghost did moments before, making you smile. Thanking him, he leaves the room, and you’re able to get the medical help you’ve been longing for.
~~
About ten hours later, you wake up after feeling as if you were hit by a truck. Your eyes flutter open and you look to the side of your bed, eyes falling on a familiar figure. “Morning, solider,” Ghost says, grabbing your hand with his. “Morning,” you repeat with a soft voice, smiling at him. “How’re you feeling?” You blink slowly, not wanting him to let go of your hand anytime soon. “I think I’ll live, thanks to you.” Ghost shakes his head with a scoff. “Nah, it was all you. You’re brave, I’ll give you that.”
“Brave?” You chuckle. “I was scared as shit.” Ghost sighs and let’s go of your hand, making you a bit disappointed. “I.. get that,” he says hesitantly. “I guess I was a little scared too. That you were gonna die.” You gasp and your smile widens. “The Ghost was scared? That I was gonna die? Oh how amazing is this.”
He stays silent, just looking down. You follow his gaze to his arm, IV tape and a bunch of wires connected. He donated his blood for you.
"Oh.." You whisper. "Thank you."
He looks up at you through the mask, but still doesn't say a word.
"You really were scared?" You ask. You weren't necessarily unsure, just in disbelief that Ghost could be scared. Nervous, maybe. But scared just seemed out of the blue.
"Yeah," he says, matter-of-factly. "How could I have not been? You were bleeding all over the place. Didn't know if you were going to.." He closes his eyes for a moment, seemingly remembering what had happened just days before. "I'm sorry I scared you sir," you apologize. But he just shakes his head, not breaking eye contact. "At ease soldier. It's Simon to you." You chuckle. "Right. Well, I'm sorry Simon."
"Apology accepted Y/n."
Maybe eventually he'll tell you exactly why he was so afraid. Maybe someday he'll admit to you that losing you would mean losing himself. Maybe one day he'll confess his feelings for you.
Maybe some day, you'll do the same.
But not today. Not yet, anyways.
188 notes · View notes
zvdvdlvr · 2 months
Text
Where Were You? Where Were You?
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
🩻 - Synopsis. Aaron realizes how badly he messed up, but doesn’t know if he has the strength to mend the wounds he gave himself and you.
🩻 - Warnings. Angst. No happy ending. Self isolating!Aaron. Boo hoo we’re all pitiful clowns here. Part one HERE! NOT EDITED!
🩻 - Author’s note. Part one got so much love!!! Thank you all for reading and commenting. I hop you enjoy the second part, but I’m bringing in the big guns for part three! :)
You stayed to get your psych evaluation. It took two tries. The first time around took a toll on you: reliving everything that happened, talking about it in explicit detail, and acting like everything was fine. But you knew you failed before it even began.
You took it again a couple weeks after. Even though you were officially benched from any cases, you didn’t complain.
All the time the team spent away gave you the opportunity to job surf. In reality, quitting the BAU was much harder than you initially imagined. Of course you would still be able to see them and talk to the team, it just… wouldn’t be the same. You would miss J.J.’s round of ‘good mornings’ as she swept by you all, eyes locked on the coffee pot a few feet away. You would miss Derek perched on Emily’s desk, teasing you, Spencer, and Emily like he was getting paid for it. You would miss Spencer looking over at you every couple of minutes to see of you were paying attention or not; making faces at you or mouthing words if you weren’t. You would also miss Emily spinning stories about her past, telling you the good and the bad, letting you closer into her heart. You would obviously miss Penelope’s hugs whenever she could tell if something was off, trying to cheer you up. And Rossi. Rossi buying the coffee at expensive places after begging him too, Rossi giving you advice during a case, Rossi being the father of the team he was meant to be. But… most of all you would miss Aaron.
Aaron speeding to his desk in the morning, desperate for something to wake him up. Aaron walking into casual Friday in a pair of tight-fitting jeans you didn’t know he had. Aaron stepping out of a hotel room in a quarter-zip, unaware of you ogling him. Aaron letting Jack go straight to you whenever the little guy swung by. Aaron’s smell when he hugged you. Aaron. Aaron, Aaron, Aaron.
No. You physically shook your head. Get rid of him, you thought, he’s just going to make it harder for you to leave. The computer screen was giving you a headache now. You finally decided to get up and stretch your legs.
As you moseyed over to Penelope’s cave, you noticed the time: 11:49.
“Hey Pen,” you greeted. “You eat anything? I’ll go grab lunch for us,” you offered.
“Hey mamas!” Derek greeted. You saw his face of the screen, smiling.
“Hey, you. How’s the case?” You asked, immediately happy to talk to the man.
Derek shrugged and looked at someone behind the camera. “Reid! C’mere. It’s y/n/n.”
You heard a couple gasps over the quiet chatter in the precinct and suddenly Emily and Spencer’s face showed up on the screen.
“Hi y/n!” Spencer greeted excitedly. You came to stand behind Penelope, poking her in the cheek as you greeted the both of them.
“Hey Spence! Hey Em!” You were happy to see the pair. Though you had seen them only four days ago, you missed them. A pang of guilt stabbed at your heart: how were you supposed to quit your job if you couldn’t stand four days away from them?
“-ffee shop you’d love. I got that mocha stuff you normally get to try, and it was alright. I guess I see why you like ‘em,” Emily shrugged.
“I’ve been telling you! Anyway, how’s the case?” You asked.
“Close. I can feel it,” the black haired woman said plainly.
Spencer nodded and started talking about the case. The unsub’s main slaughter technique consisted of an electrical wire- of all things- and a Swiss army knife, a different knife each kill. You nodded along, listening to what your friend said. Eventually, you heard “Reid!” and Spencer said a quick goodbye and he was out of frame.
“That’s our cue, baby girl,” Derek said. “I’ll talk to you two ladies later.”
You heard Emily’s ‘bye!’ and the screen turned black.
“Sweetness, I would love some food,” Penelope groaned. “I’ll eat anything you get, but I need a pink lemonade! I need it, y/n, or I may perish.”
You laughed. “Yes ma’am.” With that, you poked her other cheek gently and left.
— 🔥
Aaron heard your conversation. He heard your sweet laugh, how easily you fell into conversation with Derek, Spencer, and Emily. He thought of the few months before you were taken. You were excited about a stray kitten you had found, claiming that the little creature followed you from your apartment to the bookstore you swung by regularly. You hadn’t even realized the calico until you sat down and felt his little paws tugging on your pants, tiny mews trying for your attention.
You were overjoyed to have been- in your words- ‘decided worthy enough for the system to choose you’. Penelope had been buzzing about it too, especially after showing her numerous different pictures of the little fella.
Spencer had asked what you did with him, knowing you didn’t have the time to take care lf a kitten when you were gone so much. You told the team that you had given it to a cousin’s daughter, who was immediately taken with the kitten.
The joy in your tone as you gushed about the kitten was palpable. Aaron loved- liked so many things about you, and how passionate you are was definitely one of those qualities. But he felt his own smile fade off of his face as his eyes fell back on crime scene photos: he had a job to do. And you were unimportant.
— 🔥
You picked up Chinese food, ordering inside the restaurant because the line wrapped around the whole building.
After ordering, you paid and gave the cashier a smile. You kept smiling until you turned away, still feeling her wandering gaze drag harshly down your cheek, eyebrows furrowing as she tore herself away from the scar as dipped below your shirt.
As you stood back and waited, you felt like everyone’s eyes were on you. What an idiot, you thought: a government agent who doesn’t even have the confidence to buy some food. Your jaw tightened and you kept your eyes down, waiting until your last name was called. You saw a little girl look at you as you walked out. She held her hand up to wave and you smiled at her, the chubby cheeks of her face lifting into a bright smile. You looked away when her mother pulled her forward, sharp eyes glaring at you.
The little girl’s toothy smile filled your head as you drove back to the office. The ice in Penelope’s pink lemonade clinked around in the plastic cup as you drove. You drove in silence, thinking of the mother pulling her daughter away. Were you… really that bad? Ugly? Your heart sank into your stomach: a feeling you were starting to get used to. You saw your vision blur, but refused to cry. Maybe that’s why Aaron doesn’t want to see your face anymore. Because you were a monster. MacMillian had done his job- successfully.
— 🔥
Aaron stared at the text on his phone.
From Penelope Garcia 🖥️😄: u need to talk to y/n. ASAP. i  don’t think she’s okay and i think it has to do with the macmillian case
It had been three weeks since the case and you still hadn’t spoken to Aaron since before you were kidnapped. Well, you had talked to him, but it was stiff and professional. He looked over at Rossi who was speaking with a few officers. Aaron felt like an idiot.
He wanted bothing more than to drag you into his office and sit you down to talk. Talk about what happened, what he did, how you felt, how you’re feeling now. Aaron just wanted to help you heal but he knew he can’t. He can’t jeapordize your relationship or his job. Aaron felt a lump grow in his throat. He didn’t even know what he wanted anymore- other than you.
To Penelope Garcia 🖥️😄: How is she? What happened?
From Penelope Garcia 🖥️😄: she went to get food for us and came back all upset. i think the poor girl was about to cry :(
From Penelope Garcia 🖥️😄: and i think there’s something else i need to tell you
From Penelope Garcia 🖥️😄: but it has to be in person.
Aaron leaned back in his chair. “Damn it.”
— 🔥 
A day later the team came home. There was an arrest and the case was closed. There was a lighthearted conversation on the way home, Reid and Rossi playing a card game as Derek, Emily, and J.J. bickered over something (Aaron doesn’t know anything when they get together and scheme). But Hotch was looking out the window and thinking of Penelope’s texts. What had happened to make you shut down? What news did Penelope have for him? How were you doing mentally? How are you at home?
Hotch knew you had nightmares. Hell, everyone could tell. You had growing purple splotches under your eyes, a larger coffee cup every morning, and you zones out consistently during the day. You wore turtlenecks- that Hotch personally thought you looked amazing in- even in 85 degree weather. Not to mention how jumpy you are whenever someone touches you.
Reid had nudged you one day to get your attention; you were staring at nothing and it was time to leave. Derek watched you, a frown on his face after saying your name thrice. Spencer nudged your shoulder with a knuckle and you flew backwards, stumbling out of your chair, a hand coming to your cheek (where The Scar ran down your face). You played it off quickly after seeing Derek, Emily, Rossi, and even Hotch’s looks. But the fear in your eyes… Spencer knew you thought he would hurt you.
After landing, Hotch gave the team the day. As they all cheered and left to get their stuff, Hotch walked into the bullpen where he knew you were still working.
“Y/n.”
God, Aaron missed you. Missed seeing you, being in the same room as you- hell, breathing the same air as you.
You looked up from your computer, eyes falling on an exhausted looking SSA Aaron Hotchner. “Sir?”
“You may have the rest of the day off.” Aaron swallowed, holding your eye contact. Your eyes were one of his weaknesses. After a second of silence, you nodded.
“Thank you, sir.” 
Hotch turned on his heel and made his way to see Penelope. He felt his head spin: your blank stare and emotionless eyes felt like a knife to the gut. Aaron really fucked up, hadn’t he? Fucked up so bad you called him ‘sir’ and acted like you hadn’t bonded over your love for Phil Collins and old action movies. And how to looked away from him like you hadn’t slept in Aaron’s house clad in a pair of his sweatpants and an old sweatshirt, Jack lying on top of you after falling asleep to a cartoon. And especially the way your voice was monotone, completely different from the way you held up a quiet conversation after being sent home because you had a concussion.
“Garcia-“
Penelope stood up the second she heard Hotch’s voice. Tears welled in her eyes, shining brightly against the different colored lights in her cave. “Sir, it’s about y/n. I- I didn’t mean to snoop, but she’s just been so distant lately and ever since that case, she hasn’t gone out with me, Emily, J.J., or even Spencer! I’m really sorry-“
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Garcia. Slow down. What happened?” Aaron asked. He felt bile rise in his throat. He had a gut feeling that whatever the bubbly blonde woman had to say wouldn’t be good. He swallowed.
Penelope harshly wiped the tears off her face. She looked down and then back up, clearly distraught about the news. “Y/n applied to another job… and got accepted.”
🏷️: @zaddyhotch @jazzimac1967 @polireader @magical-spit @angelmather1 @pettydonuts @aremuslupinsimp
271 notes · View notes
whateveriwant · 3 months
Text
Happy Sunday! Whatever you do, definitely don't imagine Simon stuck in a time loop, forced to relive the worst day of his life over and over again 😀
The worst day of Simon's life? you might wonder. What would that be? Good question!
How about the day that Simon, at the tender age of four, came face-to-face with the boogeyman himself? His mother had warned him of the ghoulish entity, the one who lurked in shadows, inflicting pain on those who would seek to misbehave. What she didn't tell him, and what Simon would discover for himself that night as he awoke to the sounds of screaming, was that the boogeyman was no mere specter. She didn't tell him how he punished indiscriminately, uncaring if you were a woman or child. She didn't tell him how he wielded his fist like a hammer, his breath stinking of booze and cigarettes. And she didn't tell him (because how could a mother begin to explain to her young son?) that the boogeyman would wear the face of his own father.
Or how about the day that Simon realized he made the biggest mistake of his life? When he first joined the army, he had lofty ideas of honor and glory; action and duty; responsibility and yes, if it came to it, even sacrifice. Call him naive, but what else could you expect of a boy who's been fed nothing but a trough of propaganda his whole life? Simon surely didn't realize, not as he signed his soul over for a pair of dog tags. He didn't realize, not as he queued up with other lost boys for his chance to play soldier. He didn't realize even as he was shipped out with less than two months of basic training under his belt. No, Simon didn't realize until it was already too late, until it was staring at him across the blood-soaked trench with glossy, unblinking eyes. It was only then, looking into what remained of the face of a friend, that Simon realized there is decidedly very little that is ‘dolce et decorum’ about dying in war.
Or there's the day Simon discovered hell exists right here on Earth, and it's ruled over by a devil called Roba. Simon had thought that living a life already full of pain and horror would have thickened his skin like the rings of a tree, making an impenetrable armor even a mortar couldn't dent. But all it took was the careful orchestration of one wicked man to prove that even the toughest of trees can be felled. Day in and day out, he endured a steady stream of beatings, tortures, and assaults. Day in and day out, he was forced to the brink of his sanity, tipping over it once or twice. Day in and day out, the once unbreakable soldier entered a new circle of hell, and as he descended, finding each pit worse than the last, he wondered if he would ever make it out alive.
Or there's the any number of days (and there are a dreadful many) that Simon lost the only things in his life that ever truly mattered to him. The day he came home, the taste of betrayal acrid on his tongue, to find four mangled corpses had replaced the people he called family. The day he failed, the target vanishing like smoke from a gun barrel, his hands wet with the blood of the sergeant he had come to consider a brother. The day he never saw coming, the day that smashed what was left of his heart into pieces, the day he lost the best thing to ever happen to his miserable excuse of a life; the day he lost you.
It was years later, long after he'd hung up his masks and tags, that they came for you in the dead of night. Payback, they'd said, for something he'd done when he was still in the service. Though you had no affiliation with that period of his life, they knew that by taking you – by hurting you – it was the perfect eye for an eye. All Simon could do as they bound and beat you was watch from across the room, his own chains rattling desperately. He watched as your fingers bent at odd angles, your clothes adhered to your skin with blood, the bones in your face shattered and swelled until you were unrecognizable. You were strong – stronger than Simon ever wanted you to have to be – but that didn't stop his heart from breaking with every abuse your body received. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, he tried to get through to you, even as the sickening crack of your femur threatened to drown him out.
It was hours (it felt more like decades) that you were both dragged through this misery. Simon watched the whole time, hot tears obscuring his vision, his voice keeping you awake between the syringes of adrenaline pumped into you. But eventually there came a point in which you slumped, a sort of finality to the way your limbs sagged, and Simon couldn't help how his own heart stopped pumping. The room was loud in his ears, louder than it had ever been thus far, and yet, not a single sound was made. He shook his chains to rouse you. Get up, he ordered. Get up, my love. Get up! he begged, screamed until his vocal chords shred. His pleas were met by only silence, a slowing trickle of blood leaking from your mouth, and when the ones that did this to you declared that revenge was now claimed, Simon knew the last thread that wove any sort of meaning into his life had finally been cut.
Any one of these days could be a contender for the worst day of Simon's life, an eternity of torment looped within a 24 hour cycle. And no matter what he does, no matter how hard he tries to change things, it's never enough. He is never enough.
180 notes · View notes
strangelittlestories · 9 months
Text
“What entertainment do you bring before me today?” Squawked Augustine, the king of the birds. “Have the mockingbird players returned from their tour of the provinces? Or maybe that prattling parrot will reprise its human impressions?”
“Alas, milord.” Replied the king’s seneschal, a somewhat fussy flamingo. “You had the parrot killed for excessive repetitions and hesitations.”
“So I did!” The king spread his majestic tail feathers proudly, reliving the happy fuzz of murder. “Well, they knew the rules. Or, at least, *I* knew the rules and they probably should have inferred them.”
“One can never argue with your execution of the law.” Said the long-suffering seneschal, keenly aware that the wrong answer could result in his suffering moving from *long* to *short*. “Or with the law of your executions, for that matter…”
“Speaking of executions,” Said the king, whose mind was never truly far from state-sanctioned violence, “Do we have any on the docket for today?”
“Your majesty, I’m afraid the dungeons are quite empty.”
“What, no traitors left?”
“No, sire.”
“No criminals of any kind? No thieves or fraudsters or comedians who are overly reliant on props?”
“All thoroughly and legally murked, milord.”
“Well, I suppose send in my jester, then. I’m so dreadfully bored.”
At this command, the jester fluttered into the room, wearing a jaunty cap made out of a McDonald’s wrapper with a small lost key jangling from it in place of a bell.
The king and seneschal looked at the jester - the air was heavy with the potential for further royal atrocities. The seneschal crossed his talons.
“Coo.” Said the pigeon jester, hilariously.
A pause. A silence.
“Coo.” Said the pigeon jester again, making unblinking eye contact with the king.
The silence stretched on further. (Surely it could not keep on stretching or it would pull something…)
“Coo.” Said the pigeon jester, tragically.
And at this, the king finally burst into laughter. Uproarious, over-the-top, gut-busting laughter.
Which was just the distraction the seneschal needed. The elaborate flamingo costume was abandoned; the false wooden legs clattered to the floor and the fake neck - a painted length of hose pipe - flopped grotesquely back and forth.
From the costume burst forth a small army of truly tiny owls, which set about tying up the king while he was still prostrate from the laughter.
“What is the meaning of this?” Wailed the king.
“Coup.” Said the pigeon jester, accurately.
“Your reign of terror is at an end, vile tyrant!” Chirped an Elf Owl, puffing up its chest. “Revolution is here and your foul murderous regime will fall. In its place will rise a majestic and fair government! Vive la republic of feathers!”
“This is a conspiracy!” Cried the king.
“No,” Said the Elf Owl. “A conspiracy is ravens.”
“Owls are…” It donned a tiny pair of sunglasses. “...a Parliament.”
542 notes · View notes
mellowsaturns · 2 years
Text
just the way you are
Tumblr media
BUCKY BARNES X READER
summary: bucky’s acting strange lately, and you find out why
warnings: fluff, jealous!bucky, bucky being a show off
wc: 914
masterlist
a/n: inspired by those tiktoks of people taking their partners to watch top gun maverick and regretting it after lol
———
Bucky was acting weird lately.
Not in a closed off, reclusive sort of way, but like a sudden boost of confidence, never ending energy type of way.
“—hundred ninety-nine, two hundred, two hundred and one, two hundred and two…”
He was doing push-ups in the middle of your room at two in the morning.
You watched him as he went at it, arm propping your head as you laid in bed.
“Bucky. I get it, you can do lots of push-ups,” you said as a yawn escaped your lips. “It’s time to go to bed.”
“Two hundred-ten, two hundred-eleven,” he continued.
“Buck. I’m serious,” you said sternly. “Come to bed before you start to stink of sweat.”
He stopped at your command, grunting before pulling himself back up. He was flushed from the workout. “Could’ve done three-hundred.”
You laughed. “I know. But now isn’t exactly the best time to show off.”
He walked around to his side of the bed, steadying his breath as he sat down.
You pivoted over, lazily wrapping your arms around his waist as you rested your head on his back. “I don’t know why you suddenly got down and started doing push-ups,” you stated, because that was exactly what he did, “but there were other things you—we could have done if you wanted to get rid of all that energy.”
Bucky stiffened at your comment. He turned around, eyes meeting yours from above, a sly smile appearing. “I guess we can make up for the remaining ones I didn’t do,” he said before kissing you, pushing you back down onto the mattress and pulling the covers over.
-
It had been a normal day. You left the front doors of your workplace, ready to head to the subway to go home like always before a loud honk scared the living daylights out of you.
“Hey, doll.”
You snapped your head to the voice and behold, Bucky Barnes was here with a motorcycle.
You walked towards him, mouth agape. “Bucky… What are you doing here? With that?”
He shrugged. “Here to pick you up,” he said, before handing you a helmet.
You furrowed your brows. You had so many questions.
He grinned. “Hop on.”
-
The two of you were currently in Louisiana visiting Sam and after helping him with his boat that always seemed to have some kind of mechanical issue, he suggested a trip to the beach.
You were just about to decline his offer as you knew Bucky didn’t particularly enjoy the blazing hot sun and watchful eyes but your boyfriend’s sudden urge and agreement left you speechless.
So here you were, relaxing on the beach chair with Sarah as Bucky played football with Sam and his relatives.
Oh, and Bucky was shirtless.
You were trying really hard not to stare at him and his chest and his abs and the way his muscles moved when he ran and threw the ball.
Did he just… wink at you? God—this Louisiana heat was making you lightheaded.
Sarah smirked, “Are you sure it’s not your hunk of a boyfriend?”
-
“Here we were, sweating and panting from runnin’ miles to the hideout. When we got there, I kicked em’ steel door down and marched in,” he boasted. “Should’ve seen their faces. They were terrified. No match for us as we took down every single enemy.”
A beaming smile adorned your face as he told his stories. It wasn't often he shared about his days back in the army as there were certain memories he didn’t want to relive, but when he does, it wasn’t usually with this much excitement.
Bucky has been acting strange and you were going to get to the bottom of it.
“Hey Bucky?”
“Mmm?”
“Is there a reason you’re acting strange lately?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” you paused. “You were randomly doing push-ups the other day and you picked me up on a motorcycle that one time. And you have been talking about your days in the army for the past two hours. And um, you played football at the beach without…” you gulped, “a shirt on.”
The push-ups, the motorcycle, the beach. You couldn’t find a connection between—oh.
“Wait,” you said, finally connecting the dots. He was doing everything that happened in that one movie the two of you watched weeks ago. “Were you recreating everything from Top Gun?”
There was a hint of embarrassment in his eyes.
“Oh my god! You were!” you exclaimed.
“No, I was not,” he scoffed.
You studied him. “Bucky.”
He sighed, “Fine. I was just tryna impress you.”
“Impress me? Why would you want to impress me?”
“Well, you were certainly impressed when you were watching on the big screen,” he grumbled.
You frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“You were staring,” he stated, looking down at his lap, “at those actors. With that look.”
The realization washed over you—Bucky Barnes was jealous. You couldn’t help but laugh.
“What?”
“Bucky, it was just a movie,” you stated. Sighing, you grabbed his hand and held it tight. “You don’t need to do all that to impress me. I’m impressed by you every single day.”
He gave you that shy smile that always gives you butterflies.
“I love you just the way you are. In my eyes, you’re the bravest, handsomest and coolest person I know. No one compares to you, I promise.”
“Yeah?” he asked bashfully
You returned a loving smile, “I would choose you over anyone in a heartbeat.”
4K notes · View notes
squirrelsqwirow · 6 months
Text
HC: househusband!reiner x fem!reader
Tumblr media
a/n: I have so many ideas and just cannot seem to write them all down properly cw: just fluff, no smut, modern au
househusband!reiner who had been in the infantry since he turned eighteen, and now seven years later, after almost a decade of what seemed like endless bloodshed and horror, he's happily married and retired from the military
househusband!reiner who didn't know what he wanted next, everything was moving too fast and he felt left behind - civilian life was hard to adjust to, and he was grateful that you let him relax and take it easy for the first few weeks
househusband!reiner who quickly fell into a productive pattern while you were away at work - early morning rise, self-made schedule for house-hold duties, flipping through cooking books and preparing meals - he never liked wasting time
househusband!reiner who one day concludes after searching for jobs online that he doesn't want to go back into the workforce - he is completely happy staying home and doing all the household chores, in fact he recently found that he enjoys cleaning and putting things back in order
househusband!reiner who cautiously approaches you with the idea, unsure of how you'll react as it isn't too common for a man to be a fulltime househusband
househusband!reiner who is so relived to hear your agreement and support, as you just want him to be happy and you already make enough money to support you both - it would be nice coming home to a clean house and homecooked meal, too
househusband!reiner who awakens early every morning just to plant a sloppy, loud kiss to your cheek before he gets up to make you breakfast - and he had gotten incredibly good at cooking - eggs benedict, cilbir, pancakes, waffles, scrambled eggs, english breakfast
'mwah!' a smooch against your forehead. 'mwah!' a peck to your cheek. 'mwah!' a long wet kiss to your lips. reiner grinned above you, feeling fuzzy as your face scrunched with small laughs with every kiss he gave you. the white sheets were twisted around you both, creasing as reiner flopped down and dug his face into your neck, a final 'mwah!' to your jawline before he got up for the day.
househusband!reiner who packs your lunch with a content smile, scribbling a quick note of love that he stuck to the container of food - some of your co-workers tease you for it, others fawn over his adoration and wish their partners would do the same
househusband!reiner who will closely trail you as you walk towards the door, arms around your waist as he lathers one side of your face with quick kisses - he'll whine and look pained if you push him away, so don't do it - pull him in for a deep kiss to make up for it, one that will make him sigh through his nose and have him keep his eyes closed for a few more seconds
househusband!reiner who'll look gloomy as you walk out the door, but his hardened soldier expression returns when he sees the large pile of dishes on the bench and a carpet needing to be vacuumed - big man will roll up his sleeves and crack his knuckles as if it's a life-or-death mission
househusband!reiner who's army habits never left him and now treats everything as an operation
in the garden, between bushes of pink roses and lavender, reiner was kneeled and yanked the weed from the soil. it's dirt-laced roots hung like vines. he tossed it into the wheelbarrow behind his back, and shuffled to the next weed. beads of sweat were caught between the furrowed lines on his forehead, and his scowl was deep as he glared at the weed. he pulled once, and it didn't move, so he pulled again, yet it was stubborn and strong. reiner snatched the gardening knife to his side and spun it in his hand, before he dug it into the soil and hooked it under the weed. he pushed down the knife and pulled the stork, and the weed came free. there would be no weeds in his garden.
househusband!reiner who does that 'harshly flipping the dish towel onto their shoulder when doing the dishes' thing
househusband!reiner who has a 'kiss the cook' apron
househusband!reiner who'll spray you with water when he watering the garden, laughing at the way you squeal and run back inside behind the safety of the floor-to-celling glass windows
househusband!reiner who has you on his arm as you both walk down the shopping street in the city, drinks in both your hands as you laugh at each others terrible jokes and gossip about the drama in your neighbourhood
househusband!reiner who hears all the latest gossip from the older ladies down the street, and immediately goes straight home to tell you
househusband!reiner who takes brisk morning walks with these older ladies - they often compare their husbands to him, giving a whole 'if I was young again' speech, and all they talk about is drama, so he is always up to date on everything that's happening
househusband!reiner who will give you a 'did you hear that?!' look when over for brunch at a neighbours house and someone says something outrageous
househusband!reiner who occasionally shows up to your work to take you to lunch - some of your co-workers blush while he's there, but all reiner is focused on is you and the weird painting in the lobby
reiner stood with his arms crossed, completely focused on the mismatch of colours and shapes and human features on the large canvas. it was vivid against the white walls of your office tower, but oddly comforting. "what is it?" "I dunno," you said honestly and you both tilted your heads to the side. "gary bought it in." "of course it was gary." "it's always gary," you said. "but we like gary." "we do like gary." "I like gary too," said your co-worker susan. she stood a little too close to reiner's side and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. she looked up at reiner as she spoke, red dusting her cheeks. "he's a good boss." you poked out from beside reiner's chest and said: "nobody likes a suck-up, susan!"
househusband!reiner who isn't completely oblivious when it comes to people staring at him - his career needed him to read people's body and facial expression, so he knows when someone is taking too much of a liking to him - so that is why he always shows at your work wearing a matching outfit and greats you with a kiss
househusband!reiner who keeps himself entertained by completing diy projects - he's grown found of gardening, wood carving, construction, painting and clay
househusband!reiner who renovated a small extension from the house into a work station for himself, and it's where he completes his clay and painting projects - garden pots, vases, little sculptures, cups
househusband!reiner who uses pinterest as inspiration for many of his projects - he has multiple boards for paintings, clay, garden accessories, diy project ideas -
househusband!reiner who always melts when you join him and make clay pots together, and especially loves to paint them with you once they're dry - he always uses them in the garden, and takes good care to maintain them
you were seated in reiners lap as you both painted dried clay cups. he was delicately painting a small penguin with a scarf and wool hat, his tongue poking from the side of his mouth as his eyes were almost crossed in concentration. you smiled at him and placed a long, chaste smooch to his cheek. he blushed and tilted his head to rest against yours, a subtle grin on his face.
househusband!reiner who's gotten really good at painting with watercolour, and many of his paintings hang in the house
"you don't have to put it in here..." he trailed off as you held his latest painting - a soft-coloured village over-looking the sea - against the wall. "it's not my best work." "i want it above our bed," you said and stumbled over the pillows as you tried to find the flat point. "can you go get the- the, y'know- that flat-bubble-in-the-middle-thingy, please?"
househusband!reiner who crafts handmade gifts for you - a paper-flower bouquet, a jewellery display, a bedside table you've been wanting for a while, unique real-flower bouquets from the garden which he wraps - anything you want because he loves crafting and he loves you
househusband!reiner who teaches gabi and her friends how to make clay cups and paint them - gabi loves to pain little faces onto her cups and will proudly show them to everyone - she once showed it in class and the teacher was so impressed that he asked if reiner could make small plant pots for her class so they could paint them - he said yes, but refused to take the money offered
househusband!reiner who lays on the patio couch with you asleep on his chest almost every evening, admiring the orange-yellow-blue sky as the sun sets behind the treeline
his head was rested on a propped up pillow against the patio couch armrest, and his arms were firmly wrapped around your waist. he stroked your back as you lay asleep on his chest, the gentle rise of your back as you breathed lulling him to sleep. reiner felt his eyes droop and his head nod, but he refused to submit to sleep. you looked too peaceful against him, too beautiful and perfect with your hair skewed over your face - he'd be damned if he missed such a sight for something trivial such as sleep.
househusband!reiner who despises the mosquitos that come out a night with all the hatred in his heart - he'll swipe at them and spray them whenever he gets the chance
househusband!reiner who - with your help - transformed an unused room into a home gym because he likes working out and feeling fit, but he doesn't like other people all too much
househusband!reiner who has cleared out a room over a few weeks and had been dropping hints about something he'd been wanting for a while now
househusband!reiner who had been crafting a unique crib while you were at work, painting it soft colours and making it as safe as possible, hoping one day soon that he goes from househusband!reiner to stay-at-home-dad!reiner
368 notes · View notes
vikeera · 4 months
Text
fandom: Hazbin Hotel
switch!Alastor & switch!Rosie (strictly platonic)
I decided to slightly improve the fic I created earlier. I felt that the previous version was missing something, so having some free time I decided to fix it :)
I hope you like it!
——————————
Sweet Revenge
——————————
After the hectic Extermination Day and successful battle against the angelic army, everyone in the hotel enthusiastically tried their best to make this place better and encourage other sinners to visit. Not much time has passed since this bloody event, despite many injuries and destruction around, it all unexpectedly brought everyone closer together.
It was certainly an adrenaline-pumping experience, leaving everyone with a kind of uneasiness felt in their chests, even though with mutual care and support the feeling quickly went away, some of them still had to spend every next day in such state not really knowing how to get rid of it.
Most of them spent their free time on common activities, without admitting it directly, everyone felt relieved that they could still share their memories with others in this place.
The rebuilt building made a truly shocking impression, attracting the attention of new guests from afar. There was much to be said about the hotel, but it certainly wasn't a quiet place, for sure not suitable for everyone at the moment, even those who had spent long days there before.
Loud noises, chaos and attention from everyone around was something that Alastor definitely wanted to avoid, even though he wouldn't admit it, the fight with Adam was exhausting for him.
Once feared and revered, now found himself consumed by a sense of vulnerability. Constantly reminding himself of the defeat and humiliation that had befallen him, a feeling of weakness returned that he couldn't get rid of.
He needed time and peace to minimally recover from physical and mental damage, having nowhere to go he decided to stay for a while in Cannibal Town, specifically at the house of his dear friend Rosie.
Alastor tried to put on his best posture throughout his stay in his friend's elegant empire, from the beginning he didn't want to let on that something so insignificant was bothering him, hiding it under his classic wide smile, but it didn't go unnoticed by Rosie, who knew him better than anyone in the hotel.
A few days have passed since Alastor settled into one of the decorated guest rooms, he didn't complain about the conditions he was in, the neat and clean room quickly became a quiet place full of incredible bouts of boredom for him. Still dealing with the painful mark of defeat on his body, his condition only allowed him to walk around the building for hours, thinking about everything that had happened. At times he could lose himself in melancholy, which for some reason was still stressful, as if he was reliving the humiliation and pain he had experienced that day.
His worries subsided temporarily every evening when Rosie came back and spent time with him. She would spend every single hour with him if she could, but as the most important figure in the formidable city, she unfortunately had responsibilities to fulfill, which left Alastor alone at the mercy of his own thoughts. It was tedious, but they both still enjoyed the moments they could share together every evening. Rosie didn't mind his longer visit, she loved his company and playfully joked how she didn't expect Alastor to be the type of person who liked sleepovers so much that he would stay for more than one night.
It had been a long time since they could spend some quality time together, so Alastor's unfortunate recovery was still a chance for them to catch up.
At that moment, he was sitting partially undressed on an elegant sofa in his room, waiting for Rosie to return with new bandages. She helped him change them and take care of the wound so it would heal as best as possible. Alastor looked around at the classy old furniture, trying to escape for a moment from all memories brought back by the scar that marred his chest. After a few long minutes that seemed like an eternity, Rosie walked hesitantly into the room.
''Alright dear, sit up straight and try not to make it difficult, I will be gentle'' - she said with a slight smile.
Alastor wasn't a fan of this moment, the fact that he had to accept help made him feel even more vulnerable. Despite the smile that always accompanied him, Rosie couldn't help but notice the dejection etched upon his face. It was a long and hard day for Rosie as well, but helping her guest was a priority, so changing her clothes into a more comfortable scarlet red ruffled shirt and a long black skirt was the only thing she did before going to Alastor's room, knowing she will spend the rest of the evening with him anyway, she didn't have to worry about maintaining her elegant image for the next hours.
Without a word, Rosie sat down next to him, her nimble fingers worked swiftly, wrapping the bandages around his wound with care.
As she applied the final touches, the sight of his miserable expression filled her with a mix of pity and frustration. Regardless of repeated denials, she knew that Alastor wasn't feeling well and wanted to do something about it, but she didn't know what exactly.
''My dear, despite everything, I would be glad if you showed some enthusiasm for being here, after all, it has been some time since we last met without uninvited guests around'' - she said in a confident voice, carefully observing her companion's reaction.
Alastor looked at her, saying nothing, but his expression softened slightly, as if her words alone had improved his mood.
''Well, I certainly don't mind your company, but I would appreciate it if you stopped staring at me like I'm your next meal'' - he replied with a slightly playful tone, earning a quiet giggle from her.
She was pleased that despite his worries, Alastor was still able to enjoy her company and was motivated to keep trying to lighten the mood. Finishing up one of the bandages, she lightly brushed her fingers against his ribs, just inches from the scar he so desperately tried to ignore.
To her surprise, Alastor's body tensed as a ripple of involuntary shivers coursed through him, this reaction didn't go unnoticed.
''Are you okay dear? You know you can say it directly if you feel uncomfortable or-'' - Rosie began to speak with concern in her voice, but Alastor's words quickly cut her off.
''I assure you that I'm perfectly fine, please continue'' - he said calmly, while his ears twitched a little.
Fixing the last bandage, Rosie's fingers gently brushed against his ribs again, forcing him to bend slightly under the irritating touch. This time she was sure that the pain wasn't what he felt, she didn't even touch his wound.
''Alastor, I'm serious! what has gotten into you?'' - Rosie asked with slight irritation, not understanding why her companion was squirming under such a gentle touch.
He tried to avoid answering that question and just looked away, at first Rosie was worried she had accidentally hurt him, anyone else might feel uncomfortable in such a situation, but Alastor? He is the last person she would suspect of avoiding the opportunity to speak.
However, seeing his lips twitched, a hint of amusement threatening to break through his somber facade, a realization and a mischievous idea immediately appeared.
If he doesn't want to say what's wrong, she will make him do it in her own way, getting rid of his grumpy mood was another reason why she put her plan into action.
''Now, darling, if you want to keep quiet, let's see how long you can last'' - a playful grin appeared as her fingers began to dance nimbly all over his ribs, despite his attempt to maintain his dignity, with each merciless touch, Alastor's resistance crumbled.
''Rohosie wahahait!-'' - he choked out, trying as hard as he could to hold still and not break under the unbearable sensations.
''Oh, look at that! You can talk after all!''- Rosie giggled as she watched the mighty demon writhe uncontrollably.
Alastor's attempt at self-control failed miserably as her fingers began to explore his sides and stomach.
A distinct radio static hum could be heard for a moment, which was quickly replaced by loud genuine laughter.
''Stohohop pleheaAHAHA!'' - he pleaded, as his cheeks turned red at how pathetic he must look right now. However, he was glad that Rosie was the one who had to see him like this because he would probably have tried to kill anyone else in such a situation.
“There it is!” - Rosie exclaimed triumphantly with a sinister smirk.
Alastor burst out laughing, unable to believe how something so childish could work against him.
Rosie, on the other hand, delighted with the current situation, attacked the most sensitive spots on his body with surprising precision what seemed even terrifying at the time for the poor deer.
Alastor tried to protest, gently pushing his friend away, but he couldn't choke out anything but laughter.
“You must use your words, dear” - Rosie stated mischievously, focusing the energy in her fingers on Alastor's ribs.
He let out a bark of laughter trying not to lose himself in the irritating yet pleasurable touch overwhelming his body for the next few minutes.
Rosie's eyes sparkled with amusement as she saw her friend's tail lively wagging.
''Alastor don't tell me you are really enjoying this! You make me want to torture you even longer~'' - teased as she again vigorously wriggled her fingers along his ribs.
Alastor was frustrated by the fact he was practically lying bare-chested in front of Rosie, exposing some of his worst spots and feeling like hunted prey.
''Oh my, you're so ticklish! I can't even touch you without making you laugh dear!'' - she exclaimed, with a quick movement of one hand, suddenly wiggling her fingers behind Alastor's ear receiving an immediate reaction.
''HAHAHA! ROHOHOSIE-!!'' - he screamed with laughter, barely catching his breath.
"You're not slipping out of this, Alastor" - Rosie interrupted him quickly, still in disbelief at how quickly she defeated such a powerful demon.
For about the next 15 minutes, the entire room was filled with loud laughter mixed with radio static and begging for mercy.
After a long moment, Rosie slowed her attack, allowing her victim to breathe while she stood up, giving him a moment of peace, Alastor was practically melting on the sofa, still giggling.
He couldn't remember the last time he was able to laugh so freely.
''My dear, you're a mess, but if I had to guess, I'd say you feel a little better'' - Rosie assumed with a little smirk on her face, carefully giving her companion a glass of water.
''You're such a cruel woman, but I must say you're right'' - Alastor replied, panting heavily.
''Always happy to help you bring back that sincere smile'' - she replied with a soft giggle, sitting down on the sofa next to him.
The calm atmosphere that fell in the room for a moment did not last long, after all, as a powerful vengeful demon, Alastor couldn't miss the opportunity for a cruel revenge.
Little did Rosie know that giving him so much time to recover would turn against her so quickly.
''I can't believe I'm saying this out loud, but your unexpected attack was actually… fun'' - Alastor started, looking out of the corner of his eye at the sincere smile his friend was giving him.
''-however, I can't help it but feel that there was one thing missing from all of this'' - he said with a chuckle, turning towards Rosie.
''Oh, and what is it?'' - she asked, raising an eyebrow, unaware of what was about to happen to her.
She felt a little uneasy seeing the playful grin on the face in front of her.
''Why, my sweet revenge of course!'' - Alastor declared, using his powers as support.
Before Rosie could say anything, she felt a strong tendril grab her wrists and place her arms above her head.
Her eyes widened and she couldn't help the unsure smile that spread across her face as she quickly realized what was happening.
"Alastor! Don't you dare." - she giggled, hoping that her friend would have some mercy, oh how wrong she was.
"Oh, I dare" - he replied with a devious grin, gently lifting up Rosie's shirt, exposing her stomach.
Not even 3 seconds has passed and she felt ruthless fingers dancing on her sides and stomach, causing a sudden reaction.
“ALASTOR! QUIHIHIT IHIHIHIT!” - Rosie burst out laughing, unable to even break free.
''Oh, but I'm just getting started'' - he replied with a smirk, continuing his little revenge.
After a moment, Alastor moved his hands a little higher, mercilessly digging his fingers into Rosie's ribs, as he well knew the sensitive spot they both shared.
''AHAHALASTOHOR!'' - she shouted with laughter, unable to add anything more.
''Bingo, quite a weakness dear!” - he said calmly with pride in his voice, knowing he will pay back for everything he had experienced a moment ago.
''Dohohohn’t tehehease mehea-AHAHA!” - Rosie's protest was immediately interrupted with loud laughter when Alastor blew a raspberry on her stomach. At this point, all she could do was give up and squirm under the unbearable attack.
''Well, look at that, maybe this time you will be my meal!'' - teased with a playful grin, attacking Rosie's ribs and sides again.
She couldn't even respond to his words as lively laughter escaped her lips.
The next few minutes were filled with laughter from both of them, a moment of carefreeness was something they both needed and even though neither of them would admit it out loud, they were glad that they could spend this time together.
After a while, Alastor moved away, allowing his friend to catch her breath.
The sight of the usually elegant and composed person trying to stop giggling was amusing, she was probably thinking the same about him just a moment ago.
''Don't give me that look, you asked for it~'' - Alastor said playfully, sitting calmly next to her with a wide smile.
He had no idea that his silly revenge will bring tragic consequences.
''Oh? Well if you say so-'' - Rosie began teasingly, still giggling lightly, suddenly grabbing Alastor's ankle and dragging her nails up and down his hoof.
''-then let's see who can last longer.'' - she said with a mischievous grin, immediately earning a loud laugh from her friend.
They saw each other too rarely not to use this time to do something fun.
For the rest of the evening, all worries and unpleasant memories were forgotten, the only thing present in the small guest room was laughter and the hope they would have the opportunity to spend time like this again.
Who won their frivolous fight? The answer is Rosie, she knew her friend too long not to reach for his worst spots, although Alastor didn't give up easily and despite the final defeat, he still made her beg for mercy more than once.
In the end, they enjoy each other's company and the moments they share through playful activities, even if they end up completely wrecked after.
——————————
205 notes · View notes
wingzie · 3 months
Text
Keeping a "Safe Place" on Social Media (As Army and a Jikooker)
In my opinion, social media needs to take responsibility for what it has become. I don’t think it ever will, because it feeds on negative attention, but I try to focus on what I can do to help. For myself and others.
My bio on Twitter includes the sentence “A Positive and Safe Space for everyone” and I take this very seriously. As a baby Army, I used to be in several GC’s for report pages. Back then, reporting used to be primarily done in GC’s privately and we tried to limit any engagement. Soon afterwards, I started to witness a change: Egos started to get big, there was a saviour complex with Y/N tendencies, some would start engaging with the posts we reported and deals were being made behind the scenes to protect certain accounts. It made me sad to see this change in priorities and it wasn’t why I joined them in the first place, so I left when things started to go bad.
What did I do instead? Mute, block and report with my own system. I tend to “mute” someone first if they really annoy me and then “block” a second time if they are a repeat offender. I will automatically block and report someone if they say something really bad. I do not engage. That includes: liking, retweeting or quoting. It boosts the harmful tweet. Even more so if your display name includes something related to BTS or the members and it will add to the trends. By taking away the engagement, you are taking away their audience that they are hoping to gain.
I have mentioned before how a particular anti revealed that they would aim to get on a report page's radar, because the posts on them helped advertise their posts and accounts. Their plan was rather like a business model and it was scay how well thought out it all was. It was also clear that they had help and was in a GC thrmselves, just like the report pages were. When report GC's started to die out, they grew even more with how public the fighting became. The antis figured out how the change in social media worked in their benefit, before the rest of the fandom and even the social media creators itself did. They still fail to this day to understand how fandoms (and the language within them) changes over time. The algorithm encourages these type of negative posts too. On my second account I accidently liked a BTS tweet and my feed suddenly contained so much negativity about them, rather than about their projects or joy.
But how is all of this linked with being a Jikooker? Because we sometimes end up boosting that negativity that we really shouldn't. I quite honestly do not care what their theories are, but I always end up seeing them somewhere. More than I see actual posts about Jikook sometimes. Someone reached out to me that they felt like they knew more about tker theories than about BTS or Jikook as a whole. It's also why, whenever something negative happens, I start to spam more Jikookry instead. It's actually how the Live Reactions series was created, because I wanted to counter those talking bad about it. And to help us relive it with fondness.
I also think there is a lack of understanding about what the word "cult" actually means. It is up to an individual to try to break free, but it might also be difficult. There was a post by a young girl who had been added to a tker GC by a friend from school. She wanted to leave, because it was quite frankly bullshit, but was afraid to because she had given the GC owner some private information that they had threatened to leak if she left. That is terrifying and I sometimes think back to that girl and how she is doing. If she did manage to leave or not. For some, they are persuaded to stay whether they really want to or not.
That adds an entire new layer to all of this: Children being on the internet too young or not understanding the implications of certain things. I am a 90's kid. It was drilled into me religiously about the dangers of The Internet. That doesn't seem to be a thing anymore though, or they are quite literally left to their own devices. Because of this, we sadly saw an increase of online crimes aimed towards children during lockdown. There needs to be more done and again social media needs to be taking responsability. Ticking a box claiming your age does nothing to protect anyone. Not every Army with questionable intentions is a child though, of course. There are those that refuse to watch content or rely on heavily edited clips. I get a lot of those edits myself in my inbox, either by tkers or jkers who have found them and asked if they are true. My common answer: No. This is also why I try to give sources and encourage anyone to try to watch all the BTS content that they can. I know there is a lot, but it will help you on your journey. What can be done to stop them? Honestly, not much. We can hope to encourage them though and stop those that wish harm in their tracks. How do we do this? By being louder in our support. Because, at the moment, we're being louder with our hate and social media is boosting that even more. Rather than the praise and love that BTS and Jikook deserve.
125 notes · View notes
angrygirlromero · 1 year
Note
Hi. Sick and twisted headcanon? How about maegor "training" his pregnant wife? He killed her husband and "trained" her to be his "slave" by tying her wrists behind her back while she's naked on his bed with heels and garters on. He inserted a vibrator inside her womanhood and watched her thrust her hips while he pleasured himself. He ensured that this was recorded. He then came to notice her nipples getting hard and her tears caused by how painful it was to have her breasts filled with milk. So, he pinched her nipples to make them leak, massaged and sucked her breasts. Compulsory taking nude photos of her blossoming body and burned all of her clothes so that she'll be naked 24/7.
Maegor Targaryen x Niece/Wife!Targ Reader
Warning: Megor Targaryen, age gap, incest, pregnancy, grammar mistakes, smut.
Author’s Note: sorry I changed it a bit, and this is sort of my first headcanon I’ve ever really done so it’s not really that good, but anyway just my point of view hope you enjoy!
Maegor Targaryen would be very obsessed with Valyrian culture, he’d be determined to have a pure breed Targaryen wife, and he’d want his children and heir to be of pure Valyrian ancestry.
He’d be more than obsessed with his little niece reader after, his mother suggested for him to marry someone from their house, he’d be obsessed with the reader since she was a child, more like a daemon and Rhaenyra situation, but everyone refuses to marry the sweet little inocente reader to him, his other wife’s wouldn’t matter at all, his little niece would be his only and main priority, so when he finds out she was married off to another rich lord from another house, he’s mad, very mad, so he slaughters an entire house and ends them right there.
He would ride on the back of Balerion and burn the house to ground, he’d have his guards go in and get the reader, and her husband so he can behead him himself. He’d cut the reader’s husband’s head off, give it to her as a gift and fuck her right there and then for everyone to see who you belong to.
He’d make the reader his wife and his only queen, and punish her every night for allowing another man touch her, he’d fuck her constantly and make her moan, scream and cry his name all night long for everyone in the keep to hear.
He’d train her to be his personal sex salve and toy, only for his use, he’d always keep her in his sight and she’d barely be allowed out of her room, only with guards with her at all times, he’s be hell of a possessive man, his other wife’s pitty the reader, and one in specific would be jealous (you know who I’m talking about).
If his precious little niece asked anything of him, he’d do anything and everything for her, and out of all of his wives she was definitely the only one that mattered at all to him, he adored his little niece wife, he’d have hundreds of hand sewed dresses personally mad for her, each one individually made of the best quality of red silk and with hand stitched gold.
He’d spoil her a lot with gifts and jewelry, she’d be the most elegant, precious and perfect queen throughout the day to her people, but at nighttime she’d be his little cock slave that he could use however he desired whenever he wished.
When Maegor finds out the reader is pregnant, she’s always with his, with him being too anxious and overprotective of her and his soon to be heir, and he’d love her pregnant body more than anything, torturing her with pleasure for hours on repeat as he watches or sucks on her body leaving possessive marks or sucking on her breasts doing anything in his power to get milk out, or relive her of the painful amount of milk.
He’d listed intently as reader moans his name as he fucks her over and over until she passes out, he’d constantly admire her pregnant body being proud of his work. He’s demand that his little wife be naked of any clothes while around him.
And after his first son is born, he’d just fuck another one into her, until they had an army of children.
571 notes · View notes
casurlaub · 2 months
Text
Can we please agree that liking a character doesn't mean you have to explain away their every bad call? And that disliking a character doesn't mean you have to overlook their good qualities to have them fit your narrative? No one is just this or that. It's always a range.
The lack of nuance in parts of this fandom annoys me so much. And let's please drop the double standards - finding excuses for every 'bad' thing character A does while demonizing character B.
Dumbledore is no super villain. Yes, he put defeating Voldemort over Harry's (emotional) needs. He isn't some supportive father figure, but he's not responsible for the war nor everyone's decision to join in. 'He raised an army of children' - um no? Because if so, he, the greatest wizard of the age, did a shitty job. In both wizarding wars it was just one group of friends joining the Order, not a huge number of former students. So either super-smart Dumbledore seriously sucked at recruiting, or maybe he didn't try all that hard?
James wasn't some prime example of social justice warrior from the very beginning. Yes, he had - to some extent - a set moral code, he hated the Dark Arts, and he certainly never used dark curses on others. But he found it entertaining to hex students at random. He was a classic bully; he did it because he could and because he found it funny. He enjoyed it. But that doesn't mean he had no good traits - he cared for his friends, befriended Remus (practically an outcast), and later he changed. I can't get over the people who find excuses for Snape's bullying of his students, of literal children when he's an adult, but seem to think James was the worst person to ever exist.
Sirius has a ton of good qualities; I could write an essay about it. But guess what, that doesn't make the prank thing okay (no matter if Remus cared about it). The same goes for the Snape bullying and his condescending (cruel) behavior towards Peter. And his treatment of Kreacher, who was oppressed, not the oppressor. And why do we applaud him for 'forgiving' Remus in PoA for not trying to get him out of Azkaban? What's there to applaud? He was in Azkaban because he thought Remus was the spy, did we forget that? How do we expect Remus to suss out that Sirius thought himself clever enough to outsmart not only Voldemort but also Dumbledore? Sirius isn't on some moral high ground here. He wasn't in Azkaban because of Remus but because of his own arrogance and lapse of judgement.
Remus isn't some impersonated moral code. He isn't 'the sensible one' by default. He makes a ton of shitty, truly awful decisions (roaming Hogsmeade while a werewolf, not telling Dumbledore about the secret passages or Sirius's animagus form in PoA even after Sirius, the alleged mass murderer with an agenda of killing Harry, broke into Harry's dorm, abandoning Tonks...). But he isn't some master manipulator with a hidden agenda either. He was driven by his self-loathing first and foremost. And when did it become worse to be a bystander than to participate in the actual bullying? (I'm not saying it's okay, but how can we find excuses for James and Sirius, but Remus is super evil for doing... nothing? When it's stated that Snape was following him and trying to uncover his secret to get him expelled? Shocking he didn't feel all that sympathetic.) Of course he is passive-aggressive, of course he was selfish/cowardish, I don't know, but he isn't evil? He's usually kind (ffs, he even felt pity for Greyback), and his issues are in the end all rooted in his endless self-loathing. That doesn't excuse it. It doesn't. But it doesn't mean he's acting like he does because he's an inherently bad person. This idea of inherently 'bad' or 'good' people is naive and harmful anyhow. Besides - I feel some standards imposed on him are impossible to meet, when the same people are quick to explain away James's/Sirius's/Snape's flaws. Remus is suffering from massive childhood trauma that he's forced to relive every month, he's stigmatized for it by society his whole life, but he himself is supposed to just 'let it go'? Without therapy or anything? Right...
And even Lily isn't a saint. She's fighting back a smile when James is bullying her (supposedly) best friend?
Snape is no tragic hero whose every wrong is justified because he turned around and sacrificed himself. Of course, he was brave. Of course, he had a shitty childhood. That doesn't give him a free pass. He was up to his eyes in the Dark Arts when he arrived at Hogwarts already, he invented curses like Sectumsempra while at Hogwarts, he sold the 'love of his life' to Voldemort. And even after he 'changed' and overcame his fascist views, he bullied children he was supposed to take care of - as a grown man. Not only Harry, but also Neville, Hermione, Ron, who knows how many others. So, yeah, cool, he protected their lives 'when it counted' - 'when it counted'??? You don't belittle your students, you don't insult them, you don't threaten to poison their pets no matter what happened to you when you were a kid. You're an adult, take responsibility. Easy as that. What happened to you may be an explanation, but not an excuse. And do we really think he didn't strike back at James and Sirius? That it was just James and Sirius and him taking it lying down without doing anything himself? I don't.
It's entirely natural to relate more to one character than another and to feel more sympathetic towards them. But let's move away from this 'all or nothing' way of thinking.
To me, they're all beautiful because they're flawed. It makes them real. I don't want them to be stripped of their flaws, not even my favorite characters.
Don't take Sirius's darkness away, don't turn Remus into the ever gentle voice of reason or the super selfish master manipulator (same goes for Dumbledore) and ffs don't excuse Snape's fascist views and bullying of children.
81 notes · View notes
diazsdimples · 2 months
Text
Fuck It Friday!
Hi! How are we all doing after the episode? I've had the most insane week of my life last week, and spent around 60 hours at the hospital (I think), with active shooters and emergency caesareans so didn't manage any words until this morning. I think I live in the Grey's Anatomy universe lowkey dsfkdfs. Please enjoy a little bit of Eddie Lore from Frostpunk AU!!
Tagged for FIF by @wikiangela @smilingbuckley @daffi-990, @hippolotamus and @steadfastsaturnsrings, please go check out all their works! Daffi has a new Rivals chapter out and it is INCREDIBLE
It takes a couple of weeks before the doctors think Eddie and Christopher are strong enough to leave the hospital. Christopher recovers fast, much to Eddie’s relief, and he would be allowed to leave the hospital a week before Eddie, but there’s nowhere for him to go, and Eddie doesn’t want him to leave his side. He’s almost lost his son once; he’s not going to let it happen again.
He’s got a feeling Buck is plotting something. The man has been by his and Christopher’s bedside almost every day since they woke up – and, Eddie suspects, every day before they woke up – with a short break to go out on another mission that he’d grumbled no end about. But lately he’s been talking in hushed tones with Hen and Chimney, and even Bobby, before returning to his chair and pretending nothing had happened. It’s suspicious, to say the least.
Eddie’s still not entirely sure why he feels so at ease with Buck. He barely knows the guy, with only the vaguest, blurriest memories of him before the hospital, but he’s started to wonder if the calm, angel-like presence he felt during his coma might be the same as he feels when Buck is nearby. If Buck was his angel.
They talk a lot. There’s not really much else to do, and Buck seems content to sit and listen to Eddie talk about their life back in Sector 126. Eddie tells him about his parents and his sisters, and what it was like growing up with them.
He tells Buck about how Sector 126 was very devout and focused a lot of their laws off the word of God. How his parents raised him as a good, God-fearing boy but he never felt he was entirely there with them about it all. How he met Shannon and they immediately clicked, becoming inseparable as two teenagers, rebelling against their Sector’s laws as often as they could. How Shannon had come to him 5 months into their relationship to say she hadn’t bled in two months and couldn’t stop throwing up. How Eddie had immediately escaped to the Army Warehouse, claiming it was to support him and Shannon so they can move into a tent of their own.
He tells Buck about raising Christopher with cerebral palsy in a Sector that didn’t believe in taking drastic measures, instead believing that God would provide. How he’d had to resuscitate his newborn son because none of the medics would. Buck holds his hand as he gets choked up, and Eddie feels a relief as the weight of the last seven years lifts off his shoulders. Buck listens and listens as Eddie relives the worst moments of his life as he talks about how he and Shannon decided they couldn’t be together, but they also couldn’t stay in Sector 126 with Christopher, because their son needed help they couldn’t provide him.
When he tells Buck about how Shannon had died 3 days into their journey, frozen overnight because she wouldn’t let Eddie hold her in their shelter as they’d had a fight and she was furious with him, Buck holds him while he cries. He lets himself sink into Buck’s arms, tears streaming down his face and eyes listing shut as Buck scratches his fingers through Eddie’s hair and whispers soothing words into his ear.
He'll never forgive himself for what happened to Shannon, but Buck makes him wonder if maybe he could move on. To allow himself to be happy for the first time in his life.
No pressure tagging
@theotherbuckley @watchyourbuck @bidisasterevankinard @neverevan @babybibuck
@aroeddiediaz @spotsandsocks @bibuckbuckgoose @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg
@jesuisici33 @loveyouanyway @cal-daisies-and-briars @exhuastedpigeon @epicbuddieficrecs
@kitteneddiediaz @hermscat @worriedbisexual @thekristen999 @slightlyobsessedwitheverything
@actuallyitsellie @idealuk @dangerpronebuddie @underwaterninja13 @rainbow-nerdss
@thewolvesof1998 @loserdiaz @elvensorceress
73 notes · View notes
sleepyorchidmonster · 9 months
Text
Can you imagine if Celestia decides to mind control the archons, realizing that a revolution is probably coming?
The main goal is to sow chaos and distrust in Teyvat, stopping the Tsaritsa's plans while showing Celestia's might.
What they didn't expect was for said archons to fight back, most with contingencies made centuries ago.
Venti isolated himself in a wind barrier, making sure nobody could enter, and that his powers couldn't break out. He is NOT having panic attacks due to claustrophobia and memories of Decarabian's rule, thank you very much.
Zhongli sealed himself deep undergound, in a similar fashion to Azdaha, he brought plenty of books to pass the time, though he is mostly suffering from a migraine due to fighting off Celestia.
Ei is literally just chilling in the Plane of Euthymia while the Shogun runs Inazuma. Makoto's subconsiousness is fistfighting Celestia's influence.
To make sure nobody could use her control over Irminsul and the people's dreams and minds, Nahida locked herself up in the Sanctuary of Surasthana again, sealing her conciousness. It worked, but she's afraid and alone and crying while reliving her worst nightmare. Scaramouche and Cyno are trying to break the barrier in frantic desperation.
We don't know much about Murata, but she's probably just chilling in a volcano. Meanwhile the Tsaritsa froze herself, letting Pierro run the country and the Fatui in her stead.
Meanwhile Furina is hiding in the dephts of Fontaine's sea, sealing herself in a cave with the use of Pneuma and Ousia energies (if she tries to break the barrier, or attempts to control Fontaine's waters, the barrier strikes, she went a bit overboard because tsunamis are no joke).
So yeah, the plan didn't go as expected, and Celestia also didn't account for the Traveler... or the dragons...
The Traveler is basically going around saving everyone, using his connection to the elements to break barriers and fight off Celestia's influence. We start with Sumeru, mostly because Scara all but drags us to save Nahida.
As for the Sovereings...
Dvalin is guarding Venti's temporary "prison", trying to sing as many ballads as he can remember in hopes to calm him down. He sometimes sings the notes wrong because it always made Venti laugh.
Azdaha's conciousness found Zhongli's seal. He connected both of the places so that they can keep each other company. They're alternating between chess matches with soothing tea and Oshmantus wine to friendly spars that shake Liyue (Zhongli is still a feral war god that likes to fight).
Ei is having a great time in the Plane of Euthymia, especially now that Kokomi came along. They're chatting about light novels.
Apep managed to connect to Nahida's conciousness and is currently strangling the Celestial influence. She claims it's just her way of settling the score after we helped her in 3.6, as well as a good excuse to fight Celestia. The fact that she is telling stories of the old days of Teyvat to calm Nahida down is just a mere coincidence. (The maternal instincts kicked in)
Neuvillette broke though the Pneuma Ousia barrier with a small army of Melusines. He is currently guarding the archon in his dragon form while the Melusines perform plays to distract her (they want to start a troupe, so these are all original scripts, they were all approved).
We don't know much about the other two dragons, so let's just say they're guarding the borders of Natlan and Snezhnaya.
CONGRATULATIONS CELESTIA! Not only did your plan fail, but now all of Teyvat is mad at you!! Even the Sovereigns (that are supposed to resent the archons, mind you) are angry on their behalf!!!!🥳🥳🥳
Bonus: Neuvillette watching the show of the melusines while Furina sleeps next to his paws:
Tumblr media
239 notes · View notes