#simon meant he's not ready on all levels

[mehamang]

i don't like referring to marcus as simon's boyfriend. cause like simon made it very clear that he does not want a serious relationship with him [at this time], he's not ready for that and he might not ever be HE SAID THAT CLEARLY. marcus proceeds to be a little bitch about it and act solely on what he himself wants from this and simon doesnt say sumn afterwards cause he doesn't want to upset him cause yk how our boy is. did they have a thing, smth i'd call at most a situationship? yea. were they dating frfr like bf&bf? no <3

[the-goddess-of-mischief-writing]

Random Simon 'Ghost' Riley headcanons

sfw and nsfw

pairing: l.t. Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader (cod mw)

tags/tw: domestic stuff, afab!reader, size!kink, dirty talk

a/n: and of course a few HC's for Ghostie as well🤭

Simon 'Ghost' Riley MASTERLIST

sfw

-you know those mascots in full-body costumes? Yeah, Ghost hates those, gets on edge each time he sees one. He just gets this uncomfortable feeling in his body bc why go around masked like that?

-yes, he's aware of the irony

-your first kiss, technically, happened with his mask on,

-he wanted to kiss you but wasn't ready to commit fully, showing you his face meant a lot and he wasn't there, yet, so he just kinda directed your face from the TV to him by your chin and pressed his lips to yours despite the clothing concealing them

-you don't scare easily, even if he would disagree, but when having a shadow the size of him creeping up on you silently, which should be physically impossible for someone his size, it always makes you jump

-Ghost enjoys it for some reason, always repressing a smile when you gasp and clutch your chest with a hissed 'Simon!' despising that you never got used to it

-what you don't know is that he actively makes it harder for you, always staying in your blind spot when coming up behind you, silencing his step just like he does on stealth missions

-standard case of you falling first but he fell harder, it was a slow endeavour getting to know him, even slower when you started dating and he demanded that things wouldn't be rushed, but once he opened up he was practically already in love with you considering he rarely did open up to people

-he doesn't like gifts

-contrary to what people think, it's not because he doesn't know how to react, closer to the truth is that he's picky and doesn't like random things coming in surprises

-that's why Ghost always keeps a list of things he wants or is in interested in buying, one that you have unaltered access to just to keep track if you ever feel like gifting him something for a special occasion or if other people come to you when he just won't answer what he wishes for read Soap

-the ONLY casual gift he doesn't mind is when you get him a book, within reason of course bc yeah, he likes to read

nsfw below the cut

-on the topic of books, he doesn't read romantic stuff, if it isn't a book you push into his hands, then he knows what's between the pages: raunchy ass stuff you more often than now want him to act out, leaving you nervously giggling and then panting when he fully went into the role of fucking you silly

-another thing about Ghost that people think, but is wrong, is that he always so reserved

-this man can run his fucking mouth when he wants to

-perhaps others just don't notice, because he doesn't do it with them, but when you're by his side his face is for the most part ducked in level with your ear, making it his mission to rile you up enough so you're the one who grits out 'we're leaving '

-and the cocky bastard knows he will manage too, your resolve wearing down quick when he whispers stuff like 'pretty necklace, lovie, would rather it was my hand wrapped around your throat' and if he manages to catch you off-guard with that, mouth agape kinda surprised, he'll muse 'pretty little mouth like that’ll send a man wild'

-in the Riley household, there's one particular rule: if you buy any piece of clothing, either online or in-store, you're going to model it for Ghost

-doesn't matter what it is, he's gonna sit down in the living room waiting for you to come out for him to drink in your pretty self

-he always twirls a finger in a sign for you to spin around, not because he has any sense of fashion more than the normal man, he just likes to see all how your clothes flatter your figure

-and if it just so happens you only bought a pair of pretty panties or a flattering bra, his rule applies to those too, with the addition you'll come out in only those

-and so help you, but if your tits are on display or that pretty cunt of yours bared, he will not only make you spin but curl his finger, beckoning you towards him

-usually ends with you in his lap as he either plays and sucks at your nipples or you grind against his growing bulge before riding him

-guilty pleasure of his? your obsession with his arms and tattoos

-when you first started seeing each other, he always noticed how your eyes strayed to the ink peeking forth from his long-sleeved clothing, when you both got more comfortable and you saw him without a hoodie constantly, the way you drooled at his bulging biceps made it difficult adhering to his own rule of things going slow

-in fact, the first time you slept together was a consequence of your intrusive thoughts winning during a cuddling session

-you'd been positioned in-between his legs, running your hand over his arm curled around your waist, gaze following those delicious lines running along his forearm and then you just... dragged your tongue over his bicep, licking a long wet stripe on the muscle that tensed upon feeling your tongue

-there was a rumble against your back and a 'what the fuck was that?' making you glance up at Ghost with a sheepish smile with some explanation he didn't fucking buy for a second

-it ended with the both of you kneeling on Ghost's bed as he fucked you from behind, his arms circled around your neck, your nails digging into his forearm, a moaning mess as if you didn't know he killed men just like this but in a tighter chokehold

-so that's why he always wraps his tattooed arm around your front when you cuddle with him behind you, most time also seating himself on your right side, offering you the opportunity to trace the intricate lines decorating his skin

[greatstormcat]

Into the Fire

TF141 x f!reader

Part 5

Series Masterlist

TW: MDNI 18+, talk of violence, oral f!receiving, forced exhibitionism

Things become tense after Laswell’s announcement, and you do your level best to avoid getting in anyone’s way. Whoever Baron Shepherd is, he is clearly not good news and everyone is on edge as a result. The castle’s stockpiles of supplies are checked and rechecked, food, weapons and of course, healing supplies. It’s a sudden change of intensity that catches you off guard but you find Laswell is a great support despite the demands already on her.

You quickly learn to delegate, to find a few younger members of the household staff who are able to run tasks, fetching and organising, while you prepare for the unknown. Small accidents happen, a crushed finger here when moving barrels, a sliced hand there from the guards training, and you have things to keep you from dwelling too much on matters.

At night, however, your nightmares become a constant battle. The feeling of being watched, of something just out of the corner of your eye waiting for you, constant restlessness plagues you. It becomes normal to quickly cross over and down the hall, to knock softly on Kyle’s door and sleep wrapped in his protective embrace.

He never complains, never turns you away despite how exhausted he is from the increased training and drills the knights are expected to undertake. His hands are rough and calloused, splits on his knuckles and bruises from sparring, but his kisses are no less hungry than before. He makes you feel safe, and you repay him eagerly, as he settles into the space between your thighs.

His chambers echo in the dark of night to the sounds of your crescendo moans, his greedy words and praises, chasing away the things that lurk inside your dreams with a fire born of passion. Falling asleep, with the steady beating of his heart against your ear, comes naturally and without fear afterwards.

The day finally arrives when the Baron’s army nears, and Price sends a messenger to invite him to talks. You peer out of your workspace window overlooking the courtyard, gazing down at Price and the assembled knights on the steps the the main door of the keep. Armour shines in the afternoon light, weapons sheathed but ready. Laswell stands beside Price, her face etched with tired lines. It’s rumoured she hasn’t slept at all since her spies sent word of the invasion, constantly gathering information and moving her field agents to get any advantage possible.

Your eyes move over Price and the others. Kyle and MacTavish have long swords sheathed at their hips, but Simon, skull helm in place, has a monstrous montante, a double handed sword near as tall as he is, strapped to his back and a mace at his hip. Everything about him is designed to send the message that he can, and will, kill.

The gate opens slowly, clanking on the heavy chains used to pull the enormous things open, the sound jolting your attention towards them. The clatter of many hooves on the approach to the gate can be heard over the tense silence in the courtyard, and Shepherd rides through with a small number of his own knights. The bald Baron halts at the bottom of the steps, making no move to dismount. He wears full armour, clearly meant as a display of readiness, as do his other knights. One figure stands out, robed in black and their head covered by a cowl. The horse they ride skitters and shies beneath them, and something about the sight makes your stomach lurch.

“You have some balls, Shepherd,” Price says gruffly. “Take your troops and get out of my lands.”

“That won’t be happening, and you know it,” Shepherd retorts, openly looking over the assembled display of strength in the courtyard and deigning to look unimpressed. “I haven’t come all this way just to turn tail now.”

“Then I’ll have to cut it off,” Price sneers, just as unfazed.

“You forget, John,” Shepherd drawls, a mirthless smile crinkling the skin around his eyes, “I have The Shadow himself in my pocket now. If I bring him into play you won’t stand a chance. Your entire little domain would be wiped out. Is that what you want?” He lifts a hand and beckons forth cloaked rider, the horse’s bit flecked with foam and its eyes wide with distress.

“You brought that fucking lich into my lands, my castle?” Price roars, stabbing his fingers at the black cowled figure before taking a breath and regaining his composure. “You’re talking about murdering thousands of innocent people,” Price grits out between clenched teeth, his fists clenching as though resisting the urge to lash you here and now.

“Casualties of war, nothing more,” the bald man replies, leaning back in his saddle and smiling smugly. “It's your choice, submit to me or condemn your people,” his eyes are cold as he speaks, as though he wants Price to oppose him just to give him the excuse he wants to rain down horror and bloodshed. “You’ve got a week to get your affairs in order, and then I’m coming for you.”

Price steps forward, voice low and deadly.

“You wont get away with this,” he snarls. Shepherd looks around the courtyard at the assembled knights, his eyes catch yours through the window momentarily and your blood runs cold.

“I doubt it,” he says finally, and pulls his horse’s reins, leaving through the gate with his riders. The cowled figure turns his fretful horse slowly, the animal clearly distressed by the creature on its back, the figure’s head turning this way and that as if searching for something. A cold, creeping sensation slithers over your skin but it is quickly countered by a burning anger that isn’t yours.

He looks up at you, eyes looking into yours instantly, and the smile that spreads across his pale face reveals unnaturally sharp teeth before moving through the gate. When the echo of hooves dies down Price sighs deeply.

“Kate, we need all the help we can get,” Price says, pointing his finger at her. “Get me Alejandro, now.”

“Yes, My Lord,” she replies and turns on her heel, heading back inside the keep without waiting another moment. You turn from the window, heart racing at the bizarre encounter and hearing Farah's words: what has risen with you?

Two days later the Harbour Master, Nikolai, stands on the quay watching as a ship carefully negotiates the breakwaters at the mouth of the harbour, its sails snapping in the fresh breeze. You try to ignore the way MacTavish’s kilt does the same as he stands at the edge of the wall, one leg braced up on a iron bollard. Nik bellows instructions to the dockhands, his voice booming as it carries, having them ready to berth the vessel. You stand with Kyle, MacTavish and Alex, waiting for the ship. Laswell had told you they needed a healer after a crewman was injured on their way here, so you rode down with them.

“So these are friends of yours?” Alex asks Kyle casually. You've grown fond of Alex and his easy going manner.

“Yeah, Price helped Alejandro and Rudy out a few years ago. Since then Price allows them a certain amount of leeway with their activities in exchange for answering his call when needed.”

“Huh,” Alex grins under his moustache, “so he’s got pirates on the books? Smart move.”

“Price is always two steps ahead,” Kyle replies with pride, “that's why we’re here.”

The ship slowly pulls up alongside the quay, ropes thrown to the hands on the harbour wall, and a man stands on the railing holding onto the rigging and grinning.

“Hermano!” MacTavish calls out to the man on the ship, a huge grin splitting his face, and receives an equally enthusiastic welcome back. As soon as the ship is moored the gangplank is deployed and the smiling man jumps ashore, making his way to MacTavish with long, easy strides. He wears dark, loose fitting trousers tucked into sturdy boots, and a dark hide vest that leaves his muscular arms exposed. A belt with a short sword circles his hips.

“Es tan bueno verte de nuevo, hermano,” he says, gripping MacTavish’s wrist and pulling him against his chest briefly. He embraces Kyle just as fondly, before being introduced to Alex.

“I wish it was under better circumstances,” Kyle says, and the man nods somberly.

“Agreed, but you know we wouldn’t turn you away. We owe you a debt,” he says, and you snort softly at the mention of debts, drawing his attention inadvertently. He glances from you to the others, a smirk on his face.

“And who is this?” He takes your hand and bows, placing a quick kiss on your knuckles before anyone can say a word and your eyes dart to Kyle. His eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say or do anything. Behind him, however, MacTavish covers his chortle with a cough.

“The bonnie lass is our new healer,” he explains, and pats Kyle on the shoulder roughly, “and Sir Kyle’s… eh… companion.”

Alejandro grins at you as he hears this, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Oh? Well in that case I am honoured to meet you,” he doubles down and kisses your knuckles again, clearly intent on getting a reaction from Kyle.

“Alejandro, stop drooling on her,” a woman’s voice calls out from the ship. Alejandro’s charming expression twists and sours as he hears her and he turns. A man and a woman descend the gangplank, both dressed in similar garb to Alejandro. The woman is shorter, her dark hair cut short and tattoos covering the exposed skin of her arms. Her hips swap as the saunters down the plank, a confident smile on her face.

“There ya are Rudy!” MacTavish calls the man with her, and he smiles and greets him warmly. He isn't as tell as Alejandro, but just as solid in build.

“This is Valeria, she joined a few months ago,” Alejandro explains, his voice carrying a level of distrust as he indicates the woman joining them.

“She’s the healer we asked Laswell for,” he explains, stepping back as she locks her eyes onto you. Valeria moves to your side and puts her arm around your shoulders, her hip pressed against yours as though greeting an old friend, and she begins to take you towards the gangplank.

“Cariña,” Valeria says sweetly, shooting a look over her shoulder at Alejandro, “come with me and let them catch up. I will take you to our crewman.”  You cannot help but notice how his brow creases as he watches you leave with the woman, but her pull is insistent and you are soon making your way below deck with her. The air is dank and foetid below deck, and the only light comes from hanging lanterns suspended from the low beams. 

You’re glad that Sir Alex follows you, as something about this woman makes you feel like a mouse staring at a smiling viper waiting for it to strike. You’re taken to a man lying in a hammock, his arm splinted and his face ashen and drawn.

“He took a bad fall from the rigging,” Valeria explains, standing close enough to you that her breath tickles the side of your neck. You try to focus on the injured sailor, but she doesn’t move back her eyes on you constantly.

“So, uh, how many crew are on this ship?” Alex interrupts, clearly seeing your discomfort and trying to draw Valeria’s attention away from you. She turns sharp eyes on him, a slight toss of her head as she does so, before answering him. Thankfully he keeps her talking, getting her to tell him about the crew and the cargo they’re carrying. His mind is clearly quick and sharp, knowing how to keep her occupied. With her focus diverted, you concentrate on the injured man, quickly, so you can leave.

You soon leave the ship and rejoin Kyle who is still talking with Alejandro, moving beside him to distance yourself from Valeria, and Alex takes position on the other side of you.

“Come to the keep this evening, Price wants to have you at his table,” Kyle says with a final shake of hands.

“We will be there,” Alejandro accepts, and you follow the other to the horses to ride back up the hill to the castle.

“Are you okay?” Kyle asks as you ride beside him, finally having been given a horse of your own.

“I’m fine, just got an odd feeling from that woman,” you reply, trying to give him a smile and failing.

“Look, we’re heading to the training grounds to meeting with Simon. Do you want to come with us?” Kyle asks softly. He doesn’t demand you go with him as he might have done before, but you can tell it’s what he’d rather you did. To be honest, it’s exactly what you want right now.

“Please,” you nod. “If that’s okay?”

“It is,” he says and you hear his relief. You ride with the knights around the side of the curtain wall to a large grassy area where archery butts and other equipment is set up. You quickly spot Simon, larger than anyone else by a head, giving instructions to younger knights as they practice. Steel flashes and glints in the bright sunlight as they cut and parry, and you panic. They’re only wearing padded clothing and steel helmets.

“Aren’t they going to kill each other? They’re barely wearing any armour,” you observe, watching as one young man catches his opponent on the arm. You tense, waiting for it to slice through the padded gambeson.

“Those are just feders, training swords,” Kyle explains with a grin. “They’re completely blunt, but still leave a bitch of a mark behind.” He winces as though from recent memory. The young knight twists with the impact of the blow but just shakes his arm and carries on.

“That’s still going to bruise him,” you mutter, earning a chuckle from MacTavish.

“Builds character, cannae take soft bairns into battle,” he grins, before shrugging out of his shirt and your eyebrows raise when he stands there in just his kilt and boots. They all do the same, and heat creeps up your neck and face as you realise this is how they practice, without any padding or protection.

You sit and watch once Simon joins them, as the four men begin their own training, simple drills to begin with cycling through a series of cuts with their own blunted swords. Swords raised then swept down as they cut through the air and then again in another direction for several minutes. Then they pair up and begin to spar, muscles bunching and shifting as they dodge, deflect and counter with dizzying speed. Sweat beads and runs down their skin, the sun blazing down onto them and adding to their exertion. 

They stop after a few hours, and walk with you safely in their midst back to the safety of the castle.

“Can you use a sword?” Simon asks you thoughtfully.

“No, but I can shoot a bow well enough to hunt with,” you offer hopefully. He nods, lips tight as if this is barely enough in his eyes.

“Better than nothing I guess,” Kyle sighs, he looks concerned at the idea of you fighting at all.

“Your best defence is always to run, no matter what weapons you have to hand though,” Simon continues, his dark eyes serious in his scarred face. “If anyone, or anything, comes after you, just run.” The way he says ‘anything’ makes you uncomfortable.

“I will keep that in mind,” you say, trying to hide the tremble in your voice. It’s cooler inside the granite walls of the keep and you let Kyle guide you down the stairs behind the others, soon recognising you are heading towards the bathhouse. The men discuss their training, but Kyle is quiet, his jaw tight as you glance at him and you turn to ask what’s bothering him just as you reach the door where Laswell had guided you on your first day here, which stands open.

Kyle pulls you through the open door slamming it closed behind you in the startled faces of the others. Before you can breathe another breath he presses you against the solid wood with a kiss. 

“Pulled a favour with Laswell,” he murmurs against your lips. Dropping his shirt and unfastening the laces of your bodice as his tongue delves into your mouth. In a few moments he has you naked and pinned to the door, the warm air of the bath house ghosting across your skin. 

His mouth is hot and wet against your skin, leaving kisses and small bites in its wake as he moves down, kneeling before you and lifting one of your plush thighs over his shoulder. You know his destination, and a shudder runs through you in anticipation, the excitement pooling in your cunt.

“I saw you looking at the others,” he growls between kisses. “Just need you to remember who you owe your life to.”

The first flick of his tongue against your throbbing clit nearly has you falling on top of him, if it weren’t for the grip he has on your hips and his strength supporting your thigh on his shoulder. Voices echo from the other room, and you suddenly flush realising that they will hear you if you make too much noise.

His tongue moves languidly against your clit, your thighs trembling as he draws out the delicious friction against it. Soft moans and gasps fall from your lips, and you fight to keep quiet. He pulls away, and you stifle a needy whine as you look down at him. His mouth glistens and his dark eyes burn up at you.

“You’re gonna let them hear you when you come,” he says, steel in his tone. “So they know you’re mine.”

A thick finger slides too easily inside you, your body already begging to be filled by him in any way it can be, and you feel the groan he makes against your clit. You clench around his finger, already dangerously high on arousal, and whimper unapologetically when he sucks on your engorged clit. His finger moves in and out of you, timed perfectly with his licks and sucks. 

But it is the addition of this second finger that makes your knees weak and breaks your silence. He pumps them into you, refusing to rush you to your end, your harsh breathing echoing around the daft stones of the bathhouse. All you can hear is the rushing of blood in your ears and your own groans as he fucks you with his hand, tongue circling and teasing your clit.

You can’t help but moan his name, riding the pleasure higher and higher until you cannot contain it any longer. With a sharp cry you come on his fingers, desperate whimpers following as you ride out the spasm while he works you through your orgasm.

“That’s my girl,” he purrs, lowering your leg and helping you into the soothing water of the tub. He quickly joins you and holds you to his chest as you float in the heady afterglow of your orgasm. The two of your take time to enjoy the warmth of the water together, sharing kisses and gentle touches before the chill of the cooling bath forces you to wash and get out.

Later, the household gather in the main hall for the evening meal. Price welcomes Alejandro and Rudy, but Valeria is noticeably absent. For that, you feel distinctly grateful, not wanting to be near her any longer than necessary.

“This is wonderful,” Rudy says in awe as he looks over the food heaped on the long table. “We’ve had too many days of dried meat out at sea. You eat like kings here on land.” Alejandro rolls his eyes at him with a smile.

“Price keeps us well fed,” Simon agrees, tearing into a piece of beef on the table before him.

“Aye, Kyle had plenty to eat earlier,” MacTavish winks at you, “but the lass needs to regain her strength.”

Laughter erupts around the table, Kyle punching the Highlander’s arm without malice. But the moment is cut short as a blast of a horn sounds through the castle, smiles freezing instantly.

“What’s going on?” Simon bellows, standing up so urgently his chair clatters to the flagstones. A guard rushes to respond, his face a mask of horror.

“The gates have been opened! We don’t know how, but Shepherd’s men are in the courtyard!”

-----------------------------------------------------

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[lucid-loves]

First Light ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 4

Pairing: bodyguard!Ghost x princess!reader (fem!reader)

Word Count: 4.4k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, verbal abuse by parents, physical abuse by parents, psychological abuse by parents, opposites attract, forbidden love, slow burn, fluff, attraction and sexual tension, reader POV and ghost POV, minors DNI, smut, virgin reader, first kiss

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: After receiving death threats from a mysterious terrorist organization, your royal parents make a decision to reach out to the United States for help. Specifically, they want the US to send a bodyguard to protect their precious princess. When the 141 is called upon to investigate, Ghost is the one assigned to protect you. With your lack of experiences outside of your royal life and his experience with nothing but deadly, worldly affairs, opposites attract.

Chapter Synopsis: It’s time to head to the safehouse that Ghost set up for the both of you. Before you leave though, Ghost introduces you to some new experiences in your own country. While he takes care of you, you find yourself falling for him even more to the point where you want to test curiosity of yours. 

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5

“Has the duke spilled his guts yet?” Ghost asked Soap, making the last minute arrangements for the safehouse as quick as he could. While he would’ve liked to have been the one to interrogate the bastard in his own special way, he didn’t want to leave you alone for too long. Luckily, Soap arrived quickly to take care of the interrogation for him. He was glad that his sergeant didn’t mind talking with his fists too. 

“Bits and pieces. Not much though. At least, nothing that will really bolster our investigation. He seems like he genuinely doesn’t know much about the organization he decided to trust. They just made him safety and financial promises which he took without question.” Soap revealed, wiping stray specks of blood on his arms with a warm, moist cloth provided by a maid.

Ghost hummed in annoyance. An idiot like the duke, who was so willing to sell out your life along with your country, wasn’t worth breathing the same air as you. He would kill him if he could. It would be doing the world a favor. “What about the servant?”

Soap shrugged and shook his head. “Still working on that one, Lt. He’s been asleep.”

“Asleep?” Ghost repeated, hardly believing what his sergeant just told him.

“According to the guards, when the man was taken in for custody, he just dropped dead asleep. Coma-level sleep. We can’t get him to wake up. I’ve contacted the team about it and Kate is going to send an expert to test for drugs. We think that he might’ve taken something before being taken into custody. Capsule in the teeth kind of shit.” Soap explained carefully, making sure he covered everything that he needed to cover.

“What about guest statements? Anything useful?” Ghost continues, his patience wearing thin. He needed a win. They all did. This was no longer just a concerned parental request. A whole country was truly at stake of being taken over by terrorists. 

Once again, Soap shook his head. “Sorry, Lt. Everything is on record so you’re free to read through everything just in case I missed something, but the only thing we can do is continue our investigation and wait for the servant to wake up.”

Little did they know that you were just outside the doors, listening to their whole conversation. You were finished packing what you thought you needed with the help from your maid staff. So, you ended up leaving the room in search of Ghost to let him know that you were ready to go. 

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop. You only meant to wait patiently for their conversation to wrap up. But you couldn’t unhear what was being discussed. It scared you that they haven’t been able to uncover much regarding these terrorists that were after your country and life. It was even scarier to know that there wasn’t much you could do except trust in Ghost and his team. 

Finally, you mustered up your courage and gave the door a light knock before coming in. “Pardon me. I’m all set to go to the safehouse.”

Soap’s expression lit up at the sight of you, his lighthearted, playful side coming through immediately. You were fascinated with how different he appeared compared to Ghost. A little shorter, stylish faux mohawk, and a smile that brought life to the prim and proper room. A part of you was expecting Ghost’s teammate to be more like him. Was the 141 actually quite diverse? What was the rest of his team like?

“Well hello, Princess Y/n! I’m Sergeant Mactavish, but people call me Soap. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you after all the things Ghost has said about you.” He greeted you warmly, holding out his hand for a casual handshake. Without thinking, you took it, your own eyes brightening up along with your cheeks.

“A pleasure to meet you as well, Sergeant Mactavish. Ghost talks about me?” You couldn’t help but clarify, your eyes meeting Ghost’s who just averted his gaze. God damn it, Soap!

“He-”

“That’s enough, Sergeant! Get back to work.” Ghost shut him down swiftly, the word of the lieutenant being final. It didn’t hurt Soap though. In fact, he was used to Ghost reacting this way which he thought was hilarious. 

With a chuckle, Soap took his leave out of the room. “Aw well, maybe next time! See you later, Princess.” 

As he walked out, you smiled, feeling uplifted by the interaction. Meeting Soap was like meeting an old friend. You hoped that you would be able to meet him again, especially to hear the kinds of things Ghost said about you. For now, you redirected your attention back to Ghost who looked more tired than usual.

“Are you feeling alright, Lieutenant Ghost? You look like you need some rest.” You gently pointed out, your brows furrowing in concern. Ghost’s soul warmed up like a fireplace being started at your consideration.

“I’ll be alright. No need to worry about me. You said that you were all ready to go?” He switched topics quickly, not wanting you to worry too much about him. He would catch up on rest later. The most important thing was getting you to a safer place. That would be his safe space to rest too.

You gave a sheepish smile as he redirected the attention onto you. “Indeed. I would prefer to leave sooner rather than later. I hope that me being ready does not rush you.”

He wanted to shower you with praise over you being such a good girl. Ghost was incredibly grateful that you weren’t fussy whatsoever. “No, that’s perfect. We should be getting out of here now.”

An armored car was waiting right outside the palace to take you to the safehouse, already loaded up with just a few suitcases. You weren’t sure how long you were going to be at the safehouse, but you only packed necessities. No formal wear, no jewelry. Nothing that would take up too much space. As you stood on the palace steps, you took a deep breath of fresh air. Birds were chirping excitedly, a slight breeze cut through the would-be heat. It was a perfect day to finally leave your marble prison. Not without protests from your parents, though.

“Are you absolutely sure that this is necessary? I mean, how else will we know that the princess is safe if she is so far away?” Your father nervously blurted, his eyes shifting from Ghost to you to the car in an anxious cycle. 

Your mother wasn’t too happy either, though for different reasons that almost had Ghost snap. “How will we know that she is keeping up with her studies?!”

Before Ghost could combat their nerves, you huffed and faced your parents for the first time in your life. This new courage was found in knowing that there was really nothing your parents could do to stop this from happening. “Mother, father, I will be perfectly safe. I will continue to study as usual. However, this will also be a great chance for me to learn what the world is really like outside of the palace. We won’t do anything unsafe, so please, just let me learn what I need to learn.”

For a moment, there was pure silence between everyone. No one was expecting you to stand up for yourself, even if it was about time that you did. Then, your father places his hands on your shoulders, his gaze softening. “Y/n, when did you become such a wonderful young woman? It was only yesterday that I was holding you in my arms for the first time.”

Your eyes widened for a second, not expecting your father to become so affectionate all of a sudden. He was certainly more affectionate than your mother, though, you couldn’t remember the last time your father told you that he loved you. You blinked back tears he pulled you in for a sweet hug as if you were leaving forever.

As Ghost watched, he felt his anger begin to melt. As much as he hated the decisions your parents made regarding your life, at least he knew that it came from a place of love. At least for the case of your father. Your mother, on the other hand, still had a sour look on her face. Thankfully, she kept her mouth shut in a tight line.

“Lieutenant, keep my daughter safe.” The king ordered to which Ghost gave a firm nod to. He would rather lose his life than have you in danger again. 

After you pulled away and said your final goodbyes, you got into the armored car. Ghost got into the driver’s seat and started it up, eager to help you see the world outside of the palace walls. As you looked out the window, seeing your parents get smaller and smaller with the distance, you felt a surge of excitement run through you. 

Ghost noticed how your demeanor changed. Now without the pressures of royal conformity, you were free to be yourself. More courageous. It seemed like you had some bark and bite in you as well after all. He wanted to know you even more. “You wanna choose the music for the ride?”

You perked up at his offer, eagerly nodding your head as he handed you his phone that was already connected to the car’s bluetooth system. After perusing some options, you settled on a playlist that surprised Ghost. Even under the mask, you could tell that he was questioning your choice. “I want to hear all kinds of music. I want to hear every single song that was banned for me.”

He gave a chuckle for the first time that you’ve been together. The sound had your heart skip a beat. You didn’t even know that he was capable of laughing with how serious he looked all the time. “Very well. I’ll make sure you get your chance to experience anything you want that you normally wouldn’t.”

You bit your lip, trying to contain the utter joy you felt, completely forgetting that your life was in danger just for the moment. 

~

It was a long drive to the safehouse in the deep countryside. Your eyes were trained on the views through the window like it was television. You never knew how pretty your country looked. The architecture was classic with plenty of brick buildings and natural curvatures. There were plenty of sidewalks to cater to pedestrian travel rather than cars. Ivy vines with flowers crawled on the side of buildings, the natural beauty of nature colliding with man-made structures. 

There were plenty of open-air markets as well. Produce stands, custom art pieces, coffee trucks. Everything was conveniently available, no matter if you were heading home from work or just taking a stroll. As you passed a farmer’s market, you noticed how busy it seemed with families. Kids running around, parents picking out ingredients, business owners offering samples to treat the good children. 

Ghost noticed how you looked out the window, longing to join the streets to really experience what life was like. He debated if it would be safe to allow a little time for you to explore. He wasn’t keen on the idea of so many people around you. However, if he stuck close to you, then it should be fine, right? Besides, how could he deny the pretty little look you gave as you yearned for a little adventure. 

Before you knew it, Ghost found somewhere to park and got out of the car. Then, he opened your door and held his hand out for you to take. “Just for a little while, okay? Stick close to me.”

The smile you gave was so big and bright that it almost hurt your cheeks. You couldn’t help it, though. Ghost was granting you one of your biggest wishes. You took his hand and stepped out of the car, taking in the sounds of the city. People conversing, bike bells ringing, dogs barking. It was unlike anything you have ever heard. 

Obeying his orders, you did stick close to Ghost, your arm naturally looping around his without much thought. This was the usual hold for an escort that you have performed many times. It was a natural instinct as Ghost led the way to the farmer’s market. That wasn’t to say that you didn’t notice how strong his muscles felt underneath his shirt. You definitely felt how hard your heart pounded as he held you just as securely to his side.

When he paused to swap out his balaclava for the skeleton face mask that he wore at the party, you nearly tripped over yourself. In the natural light of the sun, his blonde hair seemed brighter like sunshine itself. His eyes seemed more open as well. Warmer. You blushed and stared down at the sidewalk for a moment, trying to catch your breath that he ended up stealing from you.

“Everything alright? Having second thoughts?” He wondered, compassion present in his voice as you all of a sudden seemed shy. 

With a shake of your head and a smile, you reassured him. “I’m fine. Just eager is all.”

With that, he led you into the market that was flooding with people. Ghost kept a careful eye out on everyone that passed by. His arm also tightened just a little more firmly to ensure that you didn’t get separated from him. As you walked, your eyes scanned over all of the products up for sale. Baked goods, ripe fruit, crocheted clothes, beautiful art. Before you knew it, you were dragging Ghost from stall to stall to ensure that you could see everything that the market had to offer.

Ghost found it amusing. He noticed the way your eyes lit up when you tasted a free sample of fresh cheese or juicy apple slices. He noticed the way the corners of your mouth lifted into a grin as you admired the craftsmanship of art. He also noticed when your eyes lingered on a particular homemade hair claw clip that was decorated with pearls, thin gold chains, and delicate flowers. 

“You want it.” He pointed out as more of a statement rather than a question. Your cheeks flushed pink, feeling a little embarrassed by your obvious infatuation. The truth was that most of your clothes and jewelry were chosen for you. You were allowed to mix-and-match with what you were given, but you have never really chosen out anything yourself. 

“I’m just impressed with the details. It is quite a beautiful hair clip.” You danced around the topic, wanting to seem more humble. However, Ghost didn’t really buy it. With a swift motion, he fished out his wallet from his pocket and took out some bills. 

Your mouth opened in shock. “Lieutenant, you don’t have to-”

“It’s fine. Consider it a souvenir for your first real outing.” Ghost dismissed you with ease, handing over the money to the seller. He picked up the hair clip and handed it to you to try on, happy to indulge in your wants.

For a moment, you separated your arm from Ghost to put your hair up, loose tendrils naturally falling to frame your face. You let them be as the rest of your hair was fashioned up with the clip. The seller handed you a small mirror to see your reflection. You almost cried when you saw yourself. You never imagined that your bodyguard would buy you such a wonderful gift. “Thank you, Lieutenant Ghost.”

Ghost found his heart skipping a beat as he took in your new appearance. The clip matched your princess personality perfectly. The delicate chains that dangled down pearl and flower beads guided his eyes to the smooth nape of your neck. 

The thought that he wanted to kiss that nape crossed his mind. 

Clearing his throat, he took your arm again. “It suits you. Wouldn’t look better on anybody else.”

It was hard not to fall even deeper for him when he complimented you like that. Your heart pounded as you walked beside him again, your steps feeling lighter than air. Nothing else at the market caught your eye as his compliment kept echoing in your head, turning your feelings into goo. 

As the market neared closing time, the amount of people began to dwindle down. Ghost felt his shoulders fall, feeling more at ease with less people around. Circling back around, he led you back to the produce stalls, wondering what ingredients he should pick up for the safehouse. 

The safehouse would be stocked with food, but not with a lot of fresh ingredients. He wanted to continue making this a good day for you with a homemade dinner rather than whatever TV dinners were waiting in the freezer. He wasn’t a chef by any means, having spent most of his life eating MREs and military canteen food. At the very least, he could make you something simple yet good. 

Remembering the cheese you seemed to enjoy as a sample and how it was tomato season, Ghost picked out all the necessary ingredients to make homemade tomato soup and grilled cheeses for tonight. You watched him curiously as he picked everything out before something in the distance caught your attention. 

“What kind of bread do you like?” He asked you, holding two different loaves of bread in his hands while he considered the options. When he looked to you for an answer though, he could tell that your gaze was trained far into the distance. He turned to look around, trying to find what you were staring at. 

In the distance was a person with a dark hoodie and a bandana covering their face. Bright paint brought color to their sleeves and jeans. The figure was walking away, but it was obvious what they were just up to with what was close to him. 

“Shit.” Ghost cursed as he pulled out his phone with Captain Price on speed dial. 

The other line was picked up quickly. “Lieutenant?”

“Tagger going east on Clover Street. Black hoodie, blue jeans, red bandana, covered in paint.” He informed, his voice low as he kept an eye on the distant figure. He observed how they walked down the street, waiting for them to change directions if they were planning on it.

“Getting a hold of local cameras now. You’re with the princess?” Captain Price inquired, his hands moving fast to find this figure through the city cameras. Finally, he found the person that Ghost described.

“Affirmative.” 

“Sending Gaz to pursue. I recommend that you two get to the safehouse pronto. I didn’t think they would be out in broad daylight.” Price advised, already contacting Gaz to give him his new assignment. Once Gaz accepted the orders, the captain hung up. Ghost knew that his captain needed to focus on this immediately, so he wasn’t offended by the sudden hang-up.

He bought the groceries, now in a bit more of a rush. Securing your arm around his once more, he began to lead you back to the car. “Let’s go, Princess. It’s not safe here anymore.”

Your face fell as the day seemed to be ruined by another case of danger. However, there was something that was bothering you. You noticed the paint on the person’s clothes and a strike of color against one of the brick walls he was near. Curiosity was getting the better of you. 

“Wait!” You paused, your stance suddenly strong and pulling back from Ghost. 

His bold brows rose as you defied him for the first time. Surely you had a good reason to. “What is it? Something wrong?”

You all of a sudden grew a little shy as his intense eyes bored into you, waiting for your explanation. Despite how bashful you grew, you persisted. “I want to see the graffiti they were making. Can we? Please?

“Oh, Princess, it wasn’t a piece of art they were making.” Ghost said knowingly, flashes of the pictures he’d seen crossing his mind. Tags of revolution. War. 

“I still want to see. Please, Lieutenant?” You pleaded, trying to follow your instincts as closely as you could. 

With the way you looked at him, it was hard to say no. He wasn’t sure if you knew that there were tags around the whole city calling for your head. Probably not since your parents didn’t tell you the truth about your life being in serious danger. But. . . he supposed that you deserved to see them just this one time. This was your country after all. “As long as we’re quick. You have to stay close to me too. Got it?”

You eagerly nodded and latched onto his arm, letting him swiftly guide you to the spots of paint on brick in the distance. As you got closer, you could make out specific shapes and color switches. Getting even closer proved Ghost wrong.

This was art.

You stared in awe at the giant mural before you. A crow with a golden crown in its ebony beak. Feathers wrapped in fire and barbed wire. The crow was about to drop the crown into a pit of hell below it, filled with skulls, demons, hellfire, and sharp blades. Ghost was surprised as well. The pictures he saw depicted small tags here and there of the crows. Here, this was a full blown work of art. 

Your free hand drifted up to touch the now colorful bricks. The paint was still a little tacky, but nothing that would stain you. As you looked up, drinking in every detail, Ghost watched you. He was nervous about what you were going to say. 

What you did say startled him. “Crows are a symbol of transformations, prophecies, and death.”

“Your mother said the opposite, save for death.”

“For her, death is an inescapable darkness. Evil. In reality, crows can bring fortune during bad times. Death is good fortune since it is a new beginning. This message isn’t a threat. It’s hope.” You concluded, tracing the swooping beak with your fingers. The shadows and highlights made the crow look almost three-dimensional.

Ghost wasn’t sure how to respond. He normally had an answer for any situation, yet what you said stumped him. How could he respond to something so poetically profound? 

You did give him something new to look into though. He would find the time to talk to his team about it later. For now, he had to finally take you to the safe house. “Come on, we gotta get moving.”

~

The drive through the countryside was long and soothing. Ghost took control of the music once you began to doze off. Something light at a low volume was played so you could continue sleeping peacefully. You had a long day out. You probably burned a lot more energy than what you were used to as well.

Once the car hit the dirt road, you stirred awake. The stars were beginning to come out, having driven for hours. You were surrounded by endless fields of local wildflowers with only the occasional tree. While you did love the looks of the city, there was something to love about the countryside too. The land that felt infinite made you feel like you could do anything. You were eager to see what the land looked like during a beautiful sunrise. 

Soon, the car pulled up at a rustic cottage with a large shed beside it. Ghost stepped out of the car for a second to open it up, turning it into a garage that would just barely fit the vehicle. Once the car was parked, you were led into the house.

A thin layer of dust hung in the air along with the fresh scent of nearby wildflowers. The cottage contained the essentials as far as you could tell. A living room, a kitchen, two bathrooms, and two bedrooms. Generically decorated, yet cozy compared to the sterile fanciness of the palace. 

Ghost brought the luggage in, setting yours in the bedroom of your choosing. He gave you some time to unpack and settle in while he got started on dinner. 

As you placed some of your clothes in one of the empty dressers, the fact that you would be living with your bodyguard for who knew how long began to hit you. Your heart picked up speed along with your breath. Not that you expected anything to happen or develop between the two of you, a part of you still had a sense of hope that your relationship would grow stronger at the very least. 

Before heading back out towards the kitchen, you caught your reflection in a bedroom mirror. The hair clip was still fastened to your hair, giving you butterflies. It was still hard to believe that he had bought you a gift so easily like it costed him nothing. You could’ve sworn that he seemed a little stunned when it was in your hair too. In a good way. 

Ghost was a gentleman. He was just being kind. He wouldn’t do anything that could be considered unprofessional or unfriendly. 

Bodyguard protecting a princess. That’s all your relationship will ever be. Right?

-

Tag List: @angel-anna @ghostlythots @maiyatheprettiestprincess @cum-tea-and-towels @littleghostbride @meowzerzstuff @izziyuwh @literaturewh0r3things @bi-witch-bxtch @victoriareadsbooks

[doctorcurdlejr]

Riverdale characters and their opinions on granking it

Archie -> supports Veronica and Jughead, doesn't listen to MCR all that much, and therefore takes the neutral stance that whatever his friends say is probably true and those men are divorced (was half listening to anything ever said to him)

Betty -> yeah go ahead and clock the peter pan collar with CoverGirl lipstick dramatically smeared off her face that's a MCR fan. Well known bisexual but deeply homophobic, therefore anybody who even mentions grank is a freak. YES she makes that disgusted look if somebody even mentions rpf, tries to tone it down for Veronica. Once got curious and read a 100k grank fem au, printed it out, ate a page, and then set it on fire at 2am.

Veronica -> Catholic 💥 Bisexual 💥 Dresses frequently in dark colors 💥 Casually morbid 💥 Loves theater 💥 not only does she grank it but my girl puts on her reading glasses to scroll through old live journal posts like she's a hardboiled detective ready to lock into the facts of the matter. "Jughead I could use another pair of eyes on this" it's 240p footage of those men fighting on stage. She keeps sending lesbo grank fics to Betty followed by "lol sorry meant for Jug." To which Betty responds "V. 😑"

Jughead -> [11am] violently typing a reply on a google doc for his creative writing class "I take offense at your claim that this is derivative of Velvet Goldmine just because I'm playing with similar themes. As to your second point, Cheryl, this band is an entirely fictional amalgamation meant to represent how our culture interfaced with the purely symbolic icons of the era." [2pm] "You're totally right, Bets. Really wish people could just appreciate the artistry and think more meaningfully about the MESSAGE." [10pm] sitting at his typewriter in Veronica's speakeasy where an entire diagram is laid out before him "This goes beyond stage gay. I'm sure of it."

Cheryl -> TO MX. G: Visiting fabulous Cali for the next fortnight. May I place Julian in your care for an evening? Have been absolutely overwhelmed with requests to visit darling Rosy. Whatever day works best, I understand scheduling so last minute may be difficult with your various dalliances. Ta!

Toni -> Once a regular contributor to Friends of Frerard night at the speakeasy, but suspiciously stopped all attendance after a vacation with Cheryl.

Kevin -> couldn't even tell you a band member's name but, in an attempt to be included in a conversation about homosexuality, once showed up at the speakeasy and laughingly asked Veronica if it was anything like Simon & Garfunkel. Before she could respond Jughead threw a copy of What is it All But Luminous at his head and told him to get out if he couldn't even be bothered to hold himself to their same level of base academic rigour.

[mykneeshurt]

Telling the 141 boys + Alejandro and Rudy middle in a mission their pregnant? :0

Oooooo!!! They’d all shit their pants lmao, this is written as if they’re happy their SO is pregnant. This is a wanted pregnancy.

Warnings - pet names, gender neutral reader (as always if anything needs tweaking please make me aware!)

Price 🥃

‘John, I’m pregnant.’

Price would be overjoyed! Ecstatic even. He’s rush to you and bring you into a never ending hug but reality would soon slap him round the face. You were in the middle of a mission, with no exfil for days.

You thought you’d seen him protective before, but this is a whole other level. He’d be all over you, watching every move you make like a Hawk with its eye on its prey. Ready to jump in as soon as he had to.

He’d be on the phone to his superiors as soon as he could to get you back home, so he could have peace of mind you were safe.

Soap 🧼

‘Hey Johnny, I’ve got a surprise for you’ you smile handing over the positive test.

Soap would be beside himself with worry, he’d be so happy but the anxiety would over take that instantly. He’d be physically unable to keep his hands off your abdomen, roaming hands, little kisses on top of the wee one inside you.

He’d be in Prices office as fast as his legs could carry him telling him. Pleading for you to be taken back to base/home, anywhere away from the mission. He’d text you cute names for the baby he’d thought of, as well as links to furniture he’d found online.

He’d get to work straight away on mentally planning how the nursery would look, he’d wanna make the crib himself.

Ghost 💀

‘Simon? I need you to sit down, I’ve got some news. I’m pregnant.’

Ghost would pull you into a passionate embrace, hold his forehead against yours smiling under his mask. Deep down he would be petrified, he wouldn’t want his child to experience anything he had growing up.

He’d start to put a lot of pressure on himself to be the best dad, even before the baby was born. He’d throw himself into baby books, pregnancy books, buying them online ready to read for when he gets home.

He’d be protective but ask you what you wanted to do, knowing you were damn good at your job. He’d prefer if you went home but would respect you if you wanted to stay. He’d just be your personal bodyguard. Where you go he’s go.

Gaz 🇬🇧

‘Gaz! I’m pregnant.’

Gaz would be so happy, he’d turn low key manic at the thought of being a dad. He’d fuss over you no end, making sure you had enough to drink, to eat, we’re getting enough rest.

Gaz would also prefer you to leave the mission but would be supportive if you wanted to stay. He’d love waking up with his hands around your stomach, knowing his baby was growing inside of you.

He’d be too distracted on the mission, constantly needing to refocus himself on what he was meant to be doing. Instead daydreaming about waking up with you and the baby, Sunday papers, coffee and shitty daytime tv.

Alejandro 🌹

‘Alejandro! Look at this!’ You’d shout running the positive test to him.

He would pick you up spinning you round while kissing you. So so happy at the news of him being a father. But he’d have a very long and serious conversation with you. He’d want you to leave the mission, to be safe so he could focus. He wouldn’t be able to concentrate if he knew you were in the field.

Alejandro wouldn’t be able to keep his lips off you, kissing your face, neck, hands and especially your stomach. He’d whisper words of affection onto your stomach, wanting the growing baby to know how loved they already were.

Rudy ❤️

‘RUDY IM PREGNANT!’

Rudy would be shocked, it wasn’t that he wasn’t happy, he was. It just happened at the wrong time, like pregnancy likes to do. He’d shed a few tears of joy after getting over the initial shock. Kissing you all over and hugging you tightly.

Rudy would ask for you to be put on light duties/admin straight away, he’d be too worried if you were in the heart of chaos. He knew you could look after yourself but the thought of something happening to you scared him too much.

He’s want to name the baby after his father if it was a boy and after his grandmother if it was a girl. He’d tell you all his plans of wanting to build the baby furniture from scratch, and hanging the mobile that his grandmother made for him.

He’d tend to your every need, nothing would be too much for him.

[fanficwriterlover]

Safe With A Ghost

18+ Readers Only

Chapter 5 : Home is Wherever You Go

Summary: Jumping a year ahead in time, things have definitely changed since finding out you're pregnant and now welcoming a little bundle of joy into the world...but will you and Simon "Ghost" Riley be a happy family for long ?

What to Expect: Just find out yourself ~

Pet-Names: Pigeon & Little Lamb

Word Count: 2k

════ ⋆Safe With A Ghost MasterList⋆ ════

═════════ ⋆Chapter 5½⋆ ════════

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Little Over a Year...

Simon was holding your 3 months old baby, while you were sleeping peacefully in your shared bedroom. He heard the baby waking up from their sleep and decided to hold them and nurture them so they don't wake you. Both of you discussed that it would be best if you didn't work, instead you are a stay at home mom, at least until Simon felt comfortable and knew where he felt was safer for you. Moving you out into the country side, on an acre property. It was something you both always wanted. A place far from bustling streets and war. Just the serene peacefulness of nature around you along with a couple horses that you begged Simon to allow you to have since it was a dream of yours since little. He rocked your toddler in his arms in their nursery, it was cozy, you both kept the color neutral deciding on a subtle green because you both didn't know the gender, wanting it to be a a surprise. To both your surprises you had a healthy boy. You named him Colton Riley.

Despite Simon's original doubts and fears of having a child, especially a duplicate of himself. Seeing the little bundle after the birth and hearing him cry out was a whole other level of adoration. If you thought loving you was impressive his love for your son was far more. He would kill anyone that hurt your little boy, and he'd be damn to let anyone bully your son. Your son was safe for sure. No doubt. Simon patted the back of your toddler "Ease bugger, don't wanna wake you mum. She's been working hard looking out for you." He speaks low and gruffly. After his mission several months ago, he told Price he'd be focusing more on his family unless they truly needed him, and he meant that seriously. As promise Price hasn't needed Simon so far it was peaceful just being home at your side and your son. But he knew it wouldn't last. After his last mission of General Shepherd betrayal, the Shadow company and then finding out about Makarov. He knew that nothing was going to last, especially when Laswell gets her hands more on Makarov movements. As of now, he has been extra cautious and General Shepherd has gone off grid. The CIA has been scrambling to do coverups and also reinstate a new general in command. For now Laswell has been leading the reins which made things a little flexible. After 141, Los Vaqueros, and Ghost team, Simon enjoyed just being Simon with you and their son. He felt himself more, a deep part of him kept Ghost under lock and key until he was needed again. But having the little bundle in his arms really made him not dwell so much on those matters, as you would tell him to focus on right now before their son in a blink of an eye be all grown up. He chuckles patting the baby, adjusting him onto his shoulder as he stood walking around the room encouraging the toddler to fall asleep after feeding him.

You woke up seeing Simon in the nursery, as he was holding your 3 month over his broad shoulders. The toddler looked so tiny in his grasps as Colton had his head nestled into his black top. You speak softly "Already getting him ready for his nap I see" you smile softly. Simon turns to look at you give a soft gaze with his face mask on, showing his tustled dirty blonde cropped hair. He glances at your son's sleeping figure on his shoulder before speaking lowly "Buggers easy to knock out." You walk over rubbing your son's back, Simon's eyes watching you intently as you touch the baby rubbing around in circular motion. Looking up at his eyes seeing his soft brown eyes bore into you, you lean up pulling down his mask to kiss him. He obliges until the feeling of his phone ring. The two of you froze. It felt so soon. You give him a sympathetic look as Colton began squirming waking up from the ringtone. You gently pry your son off his father's shoulder looking at Simon "You should answer it..." Simon knew he should as he looked at you almost wanting to let it go through voicemail but he answered walking out of the nursery,

Price....

Saying in a low grumble, he was very mad, he for once was enjoying the peace of his family and it all came crashing down in a minute. Price continued on the other end-

Ghost. I know I made a promise to you and y/n that I would only reach out if it was the upmost importance-

Almost sounding like a beg, with a stern voice, he was clenching the phone as he spoke through gritted teeth-

Price-

Simon could hear Price take a deep breath, it almost seem like he was dreading having to even say this-

I need you back Ghost. This mission is crucial and I need the best.

Simon was leaning against the stair railing gripping it tightly as he says in his low British gruff voice

What are your orders Captain.

He knew Price could tell from his tone that Simon was not happy to hear from him. He felt he barely had time with their newborn and leave y/n alone while he's gone made him feel worse. The fear and anxiety from the moment he found out you were pregnant settling into his stomach. He could hear Price let out another sigh

Lieutenant Ghost, your orders are to meet at base to be debriefed by Laswell. A plane will pick you up tomorrow at exactly 09:00.

Those words and orders made Simon stiffen up. He knew this was serious as he gave a loud enough response.

Sir, yes sir.

There was a pause, Simon was clenching his teeth and the railing as Price spoke again-

And Simon....

The Captain leaving his formalities as Simon stayed silent on the line until Price spoke again.

Give Little Lamb and that kiddo my regards...

With that, Price hung up and Simon was standing in the living room staring down at the phone, felt like deja vu. The last time he got a call from Price to do a mission you were kidnapped. That day still haunts him, except now you two have a son, and he'd be leaving you with their newborn. The idea again leaving you, all alone, despite how safe you are and off the books. The pit of his stomach didn't make him feel better. He didn't know how long he was standing staring daggers at his phone until, you came behind him wrapping your arms around him touching him gently. It snapped him out of his trance reaching to touch your hand as you spoke into his back "I take Price called about a mission ?" Your voice so soft and angelic, he never wanted to hear the sound of you asking that question. He speaks lowly "Price's orders." You process this as you press a gentle kiss onto his back, feeling him almost tense from the touch, you could tell this angered him that he was being called away. So you walked around him to face him touching his arms running your hands over his tattoo sleeve arm "Simon...this is your home always will be but 141 is your family, they need you too." You gave him a gentle smile and squeezing his biceps gently "We'll be fine here. I promise." His eyes searched yours for the longest time as he sighs pressing his forehead onto yours scrunching his brows "You call me-" you giggle nuzzling your nose onto his giving off the best British accent you could muster "-when you need me and I'll drop everything in a fuckin blind eye" he raises a brow at you "I don't fuckin sound even close to that" you laugh softly "Kinda..." He wraps his arms around you pulling you closer "Not even Pigeon." But he was grinning under his mask and you knew this as he sighs "But yeah...I'll fuckin ditch everything to get back here" you smile softly "I know. I know" you two spent a couple minutes holding each other. You two spent even most of the day embracing in each others arms along with Colton until tomorrow came too quickly.

It was early in the morning. You were holding Colton on your hip as he gnawed his gummy teeth on your necklace chain it was something Simon got for you, it was a heart shape with his initials on it. Simon, had his duffle bag stuffed, now wearing his attire for this mission, in his big black coat, jeans, skeleton gloves, and full balaclava. He even put his black paint on, which really brought out the blonde in his lashes. Colton definitely got that from his dad. Colton had his lashes but your eye color, Simon's crooked nose, and dimple cheeks, with your skin complexion. Even with the balaclava on, Colton knew Simon Ghost was still his father as he reached for his masked face. Simon leaned in for his son to touch and inspect his balaclava.

You were doing your best not to cry as you watch the interaction. You knew deep down Simon would always come back yet, it was different now. Having your son and actually becoming closer since the ordeal has made you love him more and more. Him honestly opening up to you was a big help too, after you met Price, Soap, Gaz, & Laswell you knew he'd always be looked after. Not that he needed to be looked after, but you felt comforted to know he has people to watch his back when things got hard. Once again you didn't realize your tears coming down as you felt his padded glove wipe your cheek, gently tilting your head up. His eyes were soft looking at you, you didn't even realize he lifted his balaclava enough to reveal his lips, that had scars slitted at the corner of his mouth as he leans down kissing you gently, than looking at you. Once again it felt like what happened a year ago...

"Guess, you better get going or you'll miss your flight" you sniffle letting out a little laugh, you suck in a breath looking at Colton in your arms. Ghost's looks at his son giving a soft kiss on the head and rubbing his head mumbling softly "Be good for your mum" it took every bodily power not to break down as you look from your son to Ghost.

"I love you Simon Ghost Riley" you readjust Colton in your arms looking at him as he looked at you and his son in your arms

"Love you too y/n..." He knew better to leave a promise that he couldn't keep, he couldn't guarantee he'd be safe and live to see you again, but he did etch you holding their son in your arms giving a brave smile as he carried his bag leaving his comfortable home. Walking to his truck tossing his duffle bag in, he took one last look at the home seeing you walk out onto the porch watching him as you lift Colton's hand to wave bye, subconsciously waving back as he got in driving off. Your words ringing in his ear as he drove. "Simon...this is your home always will be but 141 is your family, they need you too." He huffs knowing you're right, but he wished he wasn't neck deep sometimes wish he was a simple man you could love and never worry about your life on the line or your son's or partner. Sometimes he wondered if you would be better off. But than, selfishly deep down, you kept him grounded, because with you and Colton- Home truly is always with me..he thought to himself as he made his way to the airport to do this unexpected mission.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for Reading !

If you think this is the end it's not...brace yourself this is going to be an emotional rollercoaster...and I will not apologize for keeping you glued. (Also, I made some edits on this chapter to flow better with the next chapter)

ꨄ︎Taglist: @jadama20 @lunamoons-posts @babygirl-panda19 @kat-nee @marshallowy @bi-witch-bxtch @unit-1021 @wwe1rdc0re @crazy-phan-girl13

[grayheadedleague]

a/n: there's literally no new content for the latter two so decided to do things myself HAHAHAH might be ooc but anyway

reacting to their crush inviting them out (platonically)

featuring: Apollo, Simon, Barok x GN!Reader

Apollo Justice

Were his ears working properly? Was he even awake? Was this the real life, or was this just fantasy?

He'd be so lost and so caught off-guard that he'd stare at you blankly for a good minute. Since he's so used to being pranked on, who's to say this is not another bad joke of the universe's? What did his bracelet say? Were you lying about being worried about him?

Your chuckle snaps him out of it, bringing a flush of color to his cheeks. He just had to be so obvious...

"I'm serious, Apollo. If you want a good place to let it out then what's better than an amusement park?"

Being with you is more than enough, but anyway-

It really warms his heart whenever someone shows kindness and mercy to him, let alone if it came from you. With how his life has been going, sometimes he truly doubts if anyone cares for him at all.

"Okay, I'll go with you then."

The smile you show him in return was so adorable he could've screamed out his entire existence right there and then. Of course, he knew perfectly well it was simply a friendly gesture on your part, but that didn't damper the joy in the slightest.

Simon Blackquill

You invited the Simon Blackquill to a film screening? Wow. You liked him this much? Your boldness is laudable. It deserves one of those little toy prizes kids love so much.

But in all seriousness, Simon was very much thrilled to know you liked him enough to ask him to join you. As a friend. But alone. But just as a friend...

So how could he not jump to conclusions? Were you that dense? What if you had asked someone else and they took advantage of the situation, huh?! God, you were so helpless...

"I'm not sure you'll enjoy my company for something like that. You know what I'm like," he said with a smirk.

He meant it as a half-joke, but it showed more than half a glimpse of his insecurity. He liked teasing you - that much anyone knew at this point - but he was worried that once his other colors come out, you wouldn't want him around at all.

To never have you as his lover is something he'd accepted early on. But to lose you as a friend?

"Of course I know what you're like," you quipped. "If I didn't, why would I have invited you? Sometimes you're so dumb for someone who studied psychology."

After being stunned for a few moments, Simon laughed heartily at your comment. You were right - you were absolutely right. He was dumb.

Deep inside however, he was touched to know that someone like you has accepted him for who he was. Didn't matter if it was only at a platonic level - to him, this was more than enough.

Barok van Zieks (minor spoilers for DGS/TGAA2)

He had already been planning to visit the Great Exhibition (as he missed the previous due to... certain events) to tour Albert around. And so you inviting him to join you? Well. Suffice to say his heart and schedule were not ready.

The moment he made it back to his office, he double and triple checked his agenda for that week. Curses. It was more air-tight than any of his yet-to-be-opened wine bottles.

Of course, the three of you could go together as a group (you and Albert were close friends too) but Barok would prefer to enjoy his time with you two separately. Mostly because he would rather not Albert find out and possibly blabber about his true feelings, but anyway-

He wanted so dearly to go with you one-on-one as the opportunity hardly comes by; he really did. But he was not so rude and desperate as to push another dear friend he already made a promise to aside.

And so with a heavy heart he declined your offer. You understood the situation completely and were gracious enough to accept it, however the disappointment on your face was, though subtle, still very much apparent.

It was quite unlike the feared Lord van Zieks to let his spontaneous thoughts out in the open, but the compulsion to make it up to you somehow superseded his inherent shyness.

"Perhaps I could take you to a place of your choosing. Whenever your schedule allows for it..."

"That's not necessary at all! But... thank you for such a gracious offer. I'd be looking forward to it."

he was so excited he kept all his weekends free for the next two months, but pretend you didn't know that

[wispscribbles]

"No Rest for the Wicked" readers, I am sorry for taking forever. Writing's just taken a backseat, but it's not abandoned. I don't know when chapter 13 will be out, but I've got a good chunk written so far. It's Price's POV and he's going through things. Here's a lil preview under the 'keep reading'

cw for grief and major character death (that's NOT ACTUALLY mcd, but Price doesn't know that.)

---

He had never felt a hollowness like the one that was currently threatening to swallow him whole.

He had lost count so very long ago of how many soldiers had died in his time in the military. Friends, acquaintances. Fresh faces alongside long-time allies. He still remembered the first times it happened clearly, of course he did. No one forgot the first deaths in the field, be it those caused by your own hand, or the ones by the enemy’s. 

With time, a grim acceptance settled in his very bones. With every loss, every death, it all blurred into one. Terrible each time, but… expected. 

But his team was different. This was different. 

“Playing the self blame game, sir?” Soap had mumbled back in that cell, quick and cheeky as ever, despite fever-glazed eyes.

So maybe Price was a hypocrite. He had told Soap not to waste his energy on where he’d gone wrong, yet at this moment, all Price could think of was all the ways he had failed his men. Like father, like-

Grief twisted its blistering blade even deeper in his chest, the pain near physical. His mouth tasted like static.

Having favourites was frowned upon, but it was no secret that there was a special bond between the members of the 141. They were more than colleagues, brought together by facing impossible odds together and coming out on top. 

Gaz, Soap, Ghost… They were Price’s family. 

He had seen the fort go up. He had felt the earth shake beneath his feet with the force of the explosion. 

They weren’t supposed to be here. Yet, they were. For him. To save him, Soap had said.

Fiery and sweet John, always ready with a reassuring smile in even the most horrible times. Even when death clung to him and his eyes were red-rimmed and sporting dark bags, he had always been ready to keep up spirits. Loyal to a fault. Stubborn to it, too. So selflessly brave that it toed the line of reckless stupidity, despite being a smart lad in every other sense.

And strong, steady Simon. The man who was plagued by so many demons, that Price had marvelled at how he even kept standing. Yet, he did. Level-headed, despite all the things that should’ve broken him. Surprisingly soft in the rare glimpses he showed those he trusted. Protective of his team, of the few people he had allowed into his heart.

Something had just clicked with them. Simon steadied Soap just enough that his head left the clouds so that he could view the world below more clearly. John never stopped digging until he could drag Ghost from the earth, wiping the dirt gently from his eyes so that he could see the blue skies above once more.

What a dangerous profession for love like theirs. It went beyond all that fraternisation bullshit, even more so once the war truly ripped normalcy and structure from their grasp. Price’s fear of losing them had grown alongside their increasingly obvious affections. He’d realised that losing one meant losing both.

Then he’d heard Simon Riley laugh, really laugh again. He’d noticed a calm in the otherwise perpetually restless John MacTavish. Price would never have traded that for anything.

When they’d left the task force and the military behind, abandoning the edge on which their lives had so precariously balanced, their captain had felt none of the disappointment he’d expected at losing two of his best soldiers; instead he’d felt the deep rooted worry for them leave his body, knowing they were safe. 

Those two deserved gentle things, despite the way the world had moulded them for violence. Maybe even because of it.

They were gone.

He knew he played right into Solovyov’s plan, only stoking the doctor’s satisfaction, when he yelled and screamed and thrashed. This was all for Price, after all. His hell. 

But he couldn’t stop. Didn’t stop fighting until he ached, didn’t stop shouting until his throat was raw, his voice used up. The anger that had distorted the doctor’s face since he’d found out Ghost had ruined his carefully laid plan smoothed out slowly, replaced by sick glee at Price’s reaction. Straight, white teeth in a face still covered in drying blood, glinted back at the grieving captain. Taunting his predictable emotions.

Price couldn’t bring it in himself to care, as he watched flames lick the rubble of his friends’ grave.

When Solovyov and his men started moving him, Price hadn’t even noticed. Only when the smoke from the wreck disappeared from view, did reality wash over him like an icy shower.

Ghost and Soap were gone. 

The rest of the team were still searching for him. 

Gaz was leading a search party, a rescue for their captain. None seeing the string dangling him like mere bait. Yuri was being tracked, and they were unaware of the danger they were in. The parts they had yet to play in Solovyov’s twisted play for an audience of one.

He had to do anything in his power to prevent that from happening.

[claudiajcregg]

Tell Other People About Your WIPs

make a list of all your WIPs with a brief description of each and then people can ask you questions about them and then tag other people.

Tagged by both @onekisstotakewithme and @miabicicletta 💜💜💜 Thank you, guys <3 I don't know who to tag that hasn't been tagged already. Interested? Tag, you're it! :) (Please do know that there are no set sections. Pick whatever you want. I went the deranged route.)

I have an outdated WIP list, and many others unaccounted for. This is just a selection of stuff I could see myself posting or editing/retooling to write something new. I love talking about my WIPs, about as much as I hate being perceived because they are not remotely interesting. (I also love knowing which ones people are interested in! I have an incentive to work on them!) (Instead of snippets, part of my feedback loop is sending actual rough drafts to get a sense of whether it's worth working on more.)

Multichapters, different levels of completion.

S5 Pregnancy AU. My main WIP. Can you believe I’ve had this idea for a year… almost to the day? I’ve been stuck since November bc I don’t know how I want this one to end, beyond a birth. (As I’ve mentioned in the past, I feel like this has legs to become a fluffy universe. I have ideas! Timelines!) Gist of it: CJ gets pregnant circa Zooey's kidnapping. How does it change S5? It's less angsty than you think.

Campaign bars, aka campaign conversations sometimes happened at bars in the 1998 campaign. Fun stuff. I need to pick it right back.

What Once Was Ours or the IM AU (2021), aka IM ends with a breakup. Not a WIP. Not a UFO. A secret third thing. (“Finished” but not edited, and I’m doubtful people would be interested. Probably bc of some bittersweet ~memories~ attached to it. I mean, I shared a third of it to discord and people couldn’t care less, at least after a while. Now, better IM AUs are being posted these days; I'm not in a rush.) 33 chapters. 150k words. I do reread it every once in a while, and I cannot put it down. But its 'age' takes me aback. If things had been different, I'd have posted this in H2 2021/Q1 2022 (or even the planned Q2-3 2021). But alas.

The “Almost Ready, question mark” Category

Another SVD prompt meme claim: what if CJ has the crush first. The thing is, I tend to write her as having a relatively obvious crush on him at first until something makes her wise up. So this is just some ridiculous, post-first-meeting thoughts. Most of it was written in one sitting! It kinda fits with something in the campaign bars fic, too.

Post birth, hospital story: A couple of hours after their bb girl is born. Pure fluff. Recently reworked it to make it less wordy. Still failed, but it’s better focused now.

Many ficlets – the few I did post on Tumblr that haven’t been posted to the story I’m collecting them in, plus a couple more. I'm thinking the ice skating one, Jan 22, a few post-eps I wrote last year, etc.

Ambitious Projects I don't think are happening right away (or ever), but probably have a detailed outline somewhere

(I put this up instead of last, because the next category has faves, but it's also a long one.)

Danny is back a bit earlier on s7. Toby leaks (or tries to leak? I always wavered) the shuttle to him, as he and CJ are getting closer.

Simon lives. How does his relationship with CJ evolve post-honeymoon phase? What is it like when Danny returns?

You’ve got mail AU. This outline had two ways the climax could go. I had fun.

Epistolary collab (?) fic. Probably an X + 1 fic. The only one with nothing written; don’t rule out writing it individually at some point.

And because this is so long already (but not as long as it could be)… A few more under the cut – more "I just want to make sure I like them" and "this meme reminded me I meant to pick those back up." And they are still not all. (How do you summarize seven years of writing?? I've only posted 20-something of them, lol.)

“Almost Ready (but I feel like I want to make changes to them) (might just redo them altogether)”

Haunted by the Notion, 2007 edition. My beta Ruth suggested this when she edited the other story, and I wrote it around then. It’s another Christmas dinner at Filomena, and, eight years later, things are different. I feel like it hits expected beats, and is just missing some oomph. Maybe. (As much as I do like it, half tempted to make it 2009. Or later.)

Heaven’s here…: A interrupted proposal. I’ve written many proposals over the years, and I love toying with different ideas and setups. Danny takes the lead here, but I’ve been intrigued by the idea of having CJ do the final twist.

5 to 6 am 'me' time. Another story inspired by last year’s rewatch that I wrote right at the start of it (so Jan 2023?). It has five short parts with five different years of what CJ describes in the pilot as her “me time.” This is one when I think one per year would be fun, but I don’t want to repeat myself.

One bed, “sexy” edition. An AU to a sort of AU (one of the drabbles from this summer) and… it's what it says on the tin. The world does not need to read my attempts at smut. If I didn’t put it in the previous category, it’s because I am not sure that I want to post it. (All the previous attempts are locked somewhere; unfortunately, someone loves this one and noticed when I tried to do that, lol.)

First baby kick: I remember writing this while in grad school (so, late 2017? First half of 2018) but I lost it, along other fic, when my laptop had to be reset because I used Bear to write back then, but didn’t have sync across devices. I rewrote it, and I feel like it's not the same, but still. It's sweet! Includes: Danny talking to the baby, domestic fluff, and… baby kicks!

“This meme reminded me they exist and I love them, so don't be surprised if they are posted before anything in a previous category”

(Lbr, if I added something about them in this post at all, it’s because they sparked some memory.)

Mosaic broken hearts: CJ, circa S4, jealousy. Prompted by a former fandom friend, back in my productive era (first half of 2021; before that friend just ghosted me.)

I can’t believe I captured your heart (pancake breakfast, three words and eight letters). For a while there, I edited it so much but then I fell off. iirc, it was part of some morning-related prompts I saw around that I tried to fulfill in 2018? 2019? And they had like internal progression. But this one was the best of the 3-4, and I kept tweaking it.

Green light of forgiveness (IM-ish) — there are many other IM/IM-Tomorrow snippets I’ve written over the years. I’m not sure if this one makes much sense, but I liked it enough.

Distance — I recall liking this one! Might have to bump it up. CJ is in Africa, Danny is at the Farm and sulking because they left off on some sort of argument. There is some Danny-Abbey friendship goodness here. I even have a second file that is “Distance - shorter version (it’s not)”

Danny writes fiction, shows it to CJ during her pregnancy and she’s into it. Technically written. I would probably try to take another stab at it. Third time might be the charm?

San Andreo phone call/fallout from ID. I just had the idea of CJ reaching out once things calm down. This is one of those fics I’ve written a version of every year or so, but I think there was one I liked quite a bit.

Terrible taste in men — a run-in with an OC ex of CJ. It was so dumb.

Fka Impatience - actually beta’d three years ago (by that fandom friend I've mentioned twice before… actually, three times) and “done”. I just think I’d change so much about it these days. It started being something else but ended up being a CJ-Toby friendship story in which they have lunch and catch up. But I would want to rewrite most of it now, and not just because it’s from like… 2019 (but finished in 2021).

I forgot this one initially! he's passing by, rare as the comet in my sky - 2? 3? times CJ thinks she sees Danny somewhere, and one time she does. (Which tried to work in the 'I remember shunning you' line.) I even wrote some sort of sequel later! Probably useless.

I said I would post a lightning round with fics that are either also done but not ready for me to mention them, or just… not done at all. The length of this post and how much I've spent on it is embarrassing. To give a general overview: in line with the nonsense I've been mentioning, includes phone calls at the end of S7, also a few friendship-focused fics around that time, too; present-day stuff; anniversaries; Hollis fundraisers; weddings; many ficlets, introspective thoughts, a “yes day” fic that's super sweet but needs better dares, the third memoir idea (the original one!!!!) that I had three years ago… And those are mostly the ones I had preselected, lol.

If you're interested, I can screenshoot this part in the notes app if you message me!

Anyway, this is embarrassing, and the worst part is that it's not all. fml.

[medicbrainrot]

long is the road outta hell into misery (divinity, part 1)

No matter how well a plan is made, no matter how much preparation goes into briefings and gear checks, no matter how much training is done, sometimes all hell breaks loose, and the inevitable happens: the mission goes sideways. 

Task Force 141 had been sent on a mission to seize intel from servers on an enemy base. They had been split up into teams to search for the information and load it onto flash drives before making a clean exfil. But alas, life doesn’t always go as planned. The smaller teams were effective for infiltration, but it also meant that they were more vulnerable to being cornered by the enemy.

Ghost and Jaguar had been sent to one side of the base, but as they were getting ready to leave for the RV point for exfil, they got separated.

Ghost was almost frantic, searching their side of the base for Jaguar, determined to not leave her behind, when he heard a piercing scream that he immediately knew meant she’d been captured. 

He ran down a few hallways following where he thought the scream had come from, and as he rounded the corner, what he saw made his blood run cold.

Artemis, one of the bright spots of sun in Simon’s life, was being held at knife point by an enemy soldier.

Ghost’s voice was quiet, but laced with firm, intense anger. “Let her go.”

“Ghost, it’s okay.” Jaguar pleads, a note of strain in her voice. “Don’t give them the flash drive.”

Ghost looked past her and to the soldier behind her. “You’re a dead man walking, pal. It’s the way it goes.” His voice was sharp, his hands level as he prepared to shoot. “You either let her go, or I kill you and you still let her go.” He growls, his pistol aimed firmly in their direction.

“How are you so sure you won’t hit her too!?” The soldier sneers, pressing the knife firmly against Jaguar’s throat, causing her to flinch.

“What makes you think I’ll miss?” Ghost hisses, his anger fueled by his concern for Jaguar. He was ready for anything, he would do anything, to make sure that Artemis got out of this alive. “Now let. Her. Go.”

The soldier presses the knife tighter against Jaguar’s throat, causing a thin line of blood to appear.

“You need to get out of here.” Artemis whimpers. “We’re running out of time.”

Ghost’s breath came sharply through his teeth, the pistol in his hand starting to shake. “Don’t give me orders, Jaguar.” He hissed at the soldier. “If you kill her, I’ll make sure you have a slow, painful death.” He vows. “Do you understand me?” He readjusted his grip on the pistol. There was a 50/50 chance this would go the way he wanted it to, but they were running out of time and options.

“The longer I hold you here, the higher the chance I have of reinforcements showing up.” The soldier says. “And like your little girlfriend said, you’re running out of time.”

“You are making every wrong decision here, asshole. Either drop the knife and walk away, or I’ll kill you. There is no third option.” Ghost said firmly, not a hint of emotion present in his voice.

“I think we both know at least one of us isn’t walking away from this.” The soldier huffs a laugh, tilting the flat side of the knife inwards, further opening the wound on Jaguar’s throat. 

Ghost’s hands flexed around the pistol as he adjusted his grip. “Last chance.” He said, in a voice that could’ve made ice run through anyone’s veins. 

“Fuck you.” The soldier stated, pressing the knife deeper.

Ghost’s voice was completely devoid of emotion. “You’ve made your choice.” He fired a single shot, causing the sound to ring through the surrounding walls. 

As soon as the bullet connected with the enemy soldier, both he and Jaguar dropped to the ground. Jaguar fell to her hands and knees, coughing slightly as blood dripped from the knife wound.

“Fuck.” Simon said, the edge in his voice softening. “Artemis. You’re going to be okay. I’ve got you.”

He pulls her close, helping her grab kerlix and saline from her med kit to flush and bandage the wound on her throat. 

“This will sting.” He warns as he cleans her throat. “Hold still, okay?”

She nods silently as he tends to her, a stray tear making its way down her face.

“Did he hurt you anywhere else?” He asks her gently, ignoring the cooling body lying on the floor not too far from them. He began to check her over, gently tending to her. “Does anything else hurt?” He asks softly.

“No, it was just the knife.” She answers.

He nods. “Don’t worry, we’ll get through this.” Simon promises.

“Alright, you should be good for now. Let me know if you start getting lightheaded.” He says as he finishes bandaging her.

Artemis gives him a soft smile. “You might just replace me as the medic.” 

“Never.” He replies, a small smile forming under his mask. “Just breathe, you’re okay.” He opens a water bottle and hands it to her.

“We need to meet up with the rest of the team.” She says as she takes a few careful sips of the water.

Ghost nodded. “I agree.” He looked around the room as he put the medical supplies away. “Can you stand?”

“I’m okay.” Jaguar nods. “Just a little shaken.”

Ghost nods again, taking her arm. “It’s not every day you have a knife held to your throat.” He helped Jaguar to her feet, supporting her by the waist as she stood back up. “Just take it slow and steady.”

“Yeah.” She says quietly.

Ghost’s gaze was steady as they prepared to move forward. He glanced behind them, seeing the soldier he’d killed, lying face down in a pool of his own blood.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.” His voice is quiet, laced with guilt. “If I had been here sooner, then…” He trails off. “I hope you can forgive me.”

“It’s my fault.” Jaguar shakes her head. “I didn’t clear the room fast enough, and he cornered me.”

“Don’t blame yourself. We both made mistakes, but we’re both here. That’s what matters.” He looks down at her, placing a hand under her chin before pressing a kiss to the top of her head through his mask. “Come on, let’s get back to the others.”

As they approach to meet up with the rest of the team, Soap’s eyes widen when he sees the bandages around Jaguar’s throat. “What happened?” He asks.

Ghost looks between Jaguar and Soap. “A little misunderstanding with a knife. She’s fine now.”

He looked back at Jaguar, keeping a close eye on her. She was tough, but everyone has a limit. Simon just hopes she’ll be okay.

“Bastard cornered me.” Jaguar explains. “But I guess my scream carried far enough, Ghost heard me.”

“I wish I had been faster.” Simon says softly to her, a note of sadness in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.” She confirms, gently tugging a strap on Simon’s vest. “I’m okay.”

Simon caught the tug, looking down at her hands. “Is something wrong?” He asks, voice gentle as he lets her tug the strap.

“No, just fidgeting.” Artemis says, shaking her head.

“If you say so.” Ghost replied. His eyes were soft as he looked at her. He placed a finger under her chin, tilting her head up to look at him. “Are you ready to finish the objective?”

“Yeah, let’s finish this.” Jaguar said firmly, looking him in the eye.

Ghost nodded, steeling his nerves before turning back to the rest of the Task Force. “We’ve made it this far, we’re almost there. Let’s get this done.”

As they approached the exit, he spoke up. “Everyone stay alert. We still have enemies out here.”

They finished the rest of the mission with no issues, finding a few more key pieces of intel before crashing the enemy servers.

As soon as the mission was declared completed, they started the exfil process. Jaguar went back and forth between the soldiers, attending to any wounds they acquired throughout the mission. Ghost kept an eye on her, letting out a sigh of relief when exfil came. 

He had been suppressing his emotions the entire mission, and was reaching a point where he wouldn’t be able to for much longer.

One the way back to base, Simon sat next to Artemis, trying to gauge how she was doing. “Are you alright?” He asked softly.

“I’m okay.” She nods.

“Good, I’m glad.” He says, a small smile crossing his face.

When they arrive back to base, Jaguar grabs her med kit in preparation for debriefing before heading to the med bay to restock and help with any casualties.

“Jaguar, wait.” Ghost calls to her. “I’ll come find you when you’re done and walk you back to the barracks.”

“Alright.” She smiles gently at him. 

When Artemis was done in the med bay, Simon was waiting for her just outside, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

He held out his arm for her to take, and they started walking over to the barracks together. “Stay close, okay?” He said. Simon had something important to tell her, but he wanted to make sure they were alone before saying anything. 

“Okay.” She said, wrapping her hands around his outstretched arm. 

Simon looked around before opening the door to his barracks room, gently closing the door behind them, sliding his mask off as he does so. 

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you, Artemis.” He started quietly, avoiding eye contact as he spoke. It was obvious he was a little uncomfortable with what he wanted to say, but he pressed onward.

He cleared his throat before continuing. “I care about you…a lot. In a way I’ve never felt about anyone before…I…I love you.”

Her eyes widen in surprise, but a smile crosses her face, a faint blush accompanying the smile. “You…you love me?”

His eyes meet hers for the first time since he started speaking. He nodded once, holding eye contact. “You heard right.” He smiled. “I love you.”

Simon knew he hadn’t been this emotionally vulnerable in a long time. He had never admitted feelings like this before, much less out loud to someone else. But he knew he needed to tell her, especially after what had happened today. 

“I love you too.” She replied softly as she carefully wound her arms around him, being mindful of the bandages on her throat.

Simon wrapped his arms gently around her, pulling her into a strong, secure hug.

He kissed the top of her head, a wide smile splitting his face. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to tell you that.” He whispers.

“Probably about as long as I’ve been wanting to tell you.” She giggles softly.

He let out an emotionally charged sigh, before laughing. “Then we’re both a pair of idiots, aren’t we?”

It was amazing how quickly things could go from horrible to perfect.

“Maybe.” She laughs as well. “But that makes me your idiot.”

Simon let out another amused laugh, before pulling away slightly so he could press his lips to hers. “Well then maybe I’m your idiot too.” He smiles into the kiss, his arms tightening around Artemis slightly. 

A/N: Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and feedback are appreciated!

Masterlist

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

ooooh just looking at the tropes i thought this would be fun.

so with Simon him needing to drug/make the reader fall asleep so she doesn't cause a distraction after he hurts her. him also being soothing rubbing her back as he forces her the drug but he can't help but get a lil handsy and oops suddenly their fucking when their meant to be quiet. him using his hand or underwear for her screams. (Which he of course steals after) maybe he's like 'oops love we don't have a condom'

maybe he tries to gass light her with 'you can't get pregnant if i fuck you like this love. Your not coming enough love' 💀

TW for darker themes!

The Drug In Me Is You

Simon Walker x afab!Reader

“Oh, dear.”, Simon caught you by the shoulder as you dangerously swayed forward, effectively losing your center, “You better sit down, no? Had a bit too much tonight but who didn’t, right?”

Stumbling along on two wobbly legs, your already out-of-focus gaze couldn’t catch up with Simon’s weird, somewhat lopsided smile. What even was that expression on his face? You couldn’t decipher it even if you wanted, eyes squinting down so narrowly it almost hurt to even just recognize the ground you tried walking on.

“T’was you.”, The words came so horribly slurred, trickling from your lips like crystalline honey, “S’was you gettn’ m’so waste -”

Simon’s clasp around your ribcage fastened because the realization of him willingly fucking you up to this point rendered you erratic. However, the epiphany on the inside hardly translated to your outsides, only so much so, that you started swaying harder, trying to get away from him whilst willingly ignoring that you needed him to not just collapse into yourself like a wet washcloth thrown into a sink.

“Now, now there, why would I do that, hm? There’s nothing wrong with having a good night out, love.”, His broad palm pressed against the small of your back to shove you along with him until he slumped you down onto a bench far from the parking lot behind the Chaz Chaz, “Whoops, careful.”

A pained groan rolled over your tongue as your ass met with the hard wooden panels and although you knew you got seated, the world was spinning around you.

“Si…mon..” You mewled at him, hand pathetically palming at the seam of his shirt.

“I’m right here, sweets, all good.” He stepped forward, allowing you to pull at his shirt for guidance as he took it for your consent that you needed him there with you right now.

“Let me just take your phone and call you a cab, yeah?” The blonde crouched down to be on your level as his hands started roaming your body, leaving a warm trail to slip underneath your jacket.

“Hey.” You brabbled in a weak tone as you felt him groping at your tits shamelessly, pushing the heel of his palm into the supple flesh until it nearly spilled out of your bra.

“Calm down. will ya.”, He sneered, voice changing violently from warm and comforting to a harsh whisper, “ ‘M just looking for your phone, no need to fuzz over it.”

One of Simon’s hands crept down to the front pocket of your jeans, ready to let his thumb dip amidst the valley of your thighs until-

“Walker?!” Brendan’s distinct voice bellowed from behind, the bright column of a flashlight finding the two of you shortly after.

“Jesus fuck, I’m looking for her phone!” Simon sputtered immediately whilst pulling his hand from your thigh.

“Left it at the bar, must’ve slipped from her purse, hm?” Brendan was breathing heavily as he caught up to the bench, pulling your phone from his jacket.

“Yeah, must’ve. Thank you, Brendan.”

[baskervilleshound]

No one asked for this but I really feel like I should go into a deep dive of why Simon Petrikov is a very personal character to me, and why I care so much about him and his themes.

This is going to probably be long, so I’m going to put a cut here. But this stuff is why you’ll likely see certain recurring themes in my writing.

First we have to talk about Simon and Marceline during the Great Mushroom War and its aftermath. Simon took Marceline on during this time, and it was just the two of them against the world. Simon did everything to protect her; even sacrificing himself and his own sanity.

He would have died of radiation poisoning without the crown, I believe. So that put even another layer of pain in there. He literally kept himself alive, and destroyed his body and mind for this little girl. All to keep safe and taken care of. That really resonated with me.

And then we have Simon in Fionna and Cake. Depressed Simon who lost the love of his life, is very sad about it, and just feels like he’s drifting through life without purpose. But even though he’s miserable and sad, he doesn’t take it out on anyone. When he gets hurt on Finn’s impromptu adventure, he doesn’t lash out at him. No, he thanks him.

He doesn’t lash out or get mean when Fionna and Cake are kind of unfair to him in the beginning, not seeing Simon as much of a person or caring for him right away. Simon had literally just met these people, and he was already on board and ready to save them, even if it meant destroying himself. Even if it meant becoming Ice King again. Just because honestly? He’s a good person, his issues aside.

He’s that person who was empathetic in every way, shape, form, and he always wanted to know if the people around him were okay, even if he himself personally wasn’t okay at all.

This all hurts me super bad and makes me want to write about Simon because it all reminds me of some parallels with my own father. Growing up, we didn’t have the easiest life- dad had his heart broke and felt like a zombie for years over it. But even so, he was always my rock. Always on my side. I never had to question if or when he would be there for me; I knew it was always permanent. He is the reason that after all these years, and all the things I’ve been through, I have not lost my mind.

In my younger years, when I was really little, it really did feel like we were stuck going through a post-apocalyptic war, just wading through the wreckage, trying to find small moments to be happy about. It wasn’t easy, but the experience, regardless of how hard it was sometimes, was beautiful. Especially now that I’m almost 26, and able to really see how much dad shaped me. And all the sacrifices that were made for me, even though he was hurting so terribly.

So that’s why Simon, and Simon and Marcy’s relationship really makes me feel things from a very deep and profound level. We need more single dads in media taking care of their young girls, because boy, did I feel heard watching those scenes years ago.

Now that I have a bit of a hyper fixation though, I plan on writing some fanfiction if I can, and a lot of the themes will be heavily found family/paternal stuff. It’s sort of my way to vent and express some of those feelings I’ve had over the years. That’s what writing is for, right?

The other thing too is that I’ll eventually be finishing and publishing a book that I’ve been working on for ages about a single father (who happens to be a monster) and his newfound little daughter, and how they face the world together. But unfortunately? I can’t really share much of that with you guys yet because I need to get it published. But I’ll tell you what- my character and Simon are very, very similar in a lot of ways. So if you end up liking my Simon/Fionna and Cake writing, you may be into what I have in store later on, when I can get around to finishing and publishing my work.

So for now! I get to vicariously share my feelings through depressed, stressed, empathetic antiquarian man. And I’m pumped for you all to be on board with me.

If you made it this far, wow, you’re cool. Thanks for reading and listening to be blab about why a little cartoon man on a show touched my soul lmao. 💕

[hvrricaneromeo]

PLEASE DESCRIBE TO ME ROMEO'S NIGHTTIME ROUTINE, HOW HE SETTLES IN FOR HIS FIRST SLEEP AFTER HIS TUMULTUOUS EXPERIENCE AT THE SYMPOSIUM FOR THE MINDS WHERE HE, SOMEHOW, GOT KICKED OUT WITH ANOTHER FOR PARTICULARY DUBIOUS DECORUM.

romeo doesn't go to the athena cabin, he doesn't go to the zeus cabin.

instead, romeo goes to the infirmary. it's where he told the other's he would be. after being looked over by the satyrs and nymphs, he slips into one of the private rooms to sleep. it's…not the easiest to fall asleep. there's a heavy weight on his shoulders, a feeling of disappointment curling in the pit of his stomach.

he'd done the right thing. he'd saved one of their own. he had to. he couldn't let erik do to simon what he'd done to him. he couldn't. he wouldn't.

he wouldn't.

he rolls over onto his side, closing his eyes, curled up with an arm underneath his pillow and tries, desperately, to get some sleep.

ROMEO keeps himself up for a moment as he replays the events from his initial encounter with ERIK ODNSON to then seeing him taking a comrade into a nearby bathroom. the thoughts plague him ; the taste of sweetness drives him insane that something so foul could happen and what in the world were the chances of it all going the way that it did. he beats himself up being the bulwark the camp needed, even if everyone else would never understand how heavy that burden actually was. sleep slowly finds it way to ROMEO as the man is quickly pulled deep into his own body, passed his rib cages and the veins of blood through his heart to an atomic level where he floats in a nothingness of white light until the tiniest thrum of lilac from a deeep and dark purple sphere radiates through his surroundings.

the nothingness reminds him of that dream with his father, when his hand reached inside of romeo's chest and tore out the storm inside of him. the nothingness that followed was a stillness that he wouldn't wish on anyone. an absence, a loss.

as white gradiates to lilac, emerald eyes flicker toward the sphere that pulses and radiates.

how did he end up here? his brows furrow together. nothing ever good happens in his dreams. not since accepting his divinity.

he reaches for his power, letting the lightning crackle around his fingertips and wrists.

slowly, tenatively, he walks toward the sphere, ready to call down lightning upon it if needed.

the sphere reaches itself toward ROMEO for him to grab onto. " DO NOT BE AFRAID OF US, ROMEO VALIENTE. WE ARE YOU AND YOU ARE NOW OF US. DON'T YOU FEEL US, DEEP DOWN? WHAT IS YOUR DEEPEST DESIRE, SON OF ZEUS? WE CAN AID YOU AND YOU US, IF ONLY YOU ALLOW US TO DO SO. THE WORLD IS BLEAK AND FILLED WITH ANTIQUATED AND FLAWED SYSTEMS. WE ARE TO SHAKE THE WORLD AND COURSE CORRECT TOGETHER. "

what is his deepest desire?

desire, noun, a strong feeling of wanting to have something or wishing for something to happen.

all his life he only desired to ever be enough for people. to reach their skyscraper expectations and finally be told that he did it, that he was enough. he took clenched fists to skin and cursed words to his mind and heart from those who were supposed to care and nurture him and yet, he still had wanted to be enough for them. enough for the to be happy that they had him as a son, that they had him at all.

that same motif traveled with him through most of his life. relationships were never enough because he was never enough for them. love was never enough because he didn't know what it meant to be in love and he to be someone worthy of love. he wanted to be enough as he is, wholy, and without fear.

but he never was. he still isn't.

after the divinity, all he wanted was something that was his, something he could work for that wasn't told or expected of him. yes, he is the son of the king, he's a prince among them, but the crown wasn't forced upon him. he wasn't reluctant when it came to stepping into a role that had eyes on him, that put a target on his back as a leader—he wanted it, he wanted to earn it, he wanted to work for it.

he had wanted it and, at every corner, he failed. his power harmed those he kept close and that turned people against him. when he stopped violence from happening, people said their snarky comments, they had their thoughts about him. when he showed power, it was never his. it always belonged to someone else. he failed and failed and failed.

again and again and again. a carosel of sorrow and disappointment that he didn't know how to stop.

even with atticus. he desires him, present tense, current. he wants something with him that he can't even explain and yet he doesn't know how to form that into words, doesn't know how to make it last, how to keep him safe, how to keep him his.

what is it that he truly desires?

"what can you offer me that i don't already have?" if this can truly offer him what he most desires, it should be able to answer for him, shouldn't it?

" THERE ARE NO GAMES HERE, ROMEO. WE DON'T FEEL THE NEED TO PLAY THEM. WHAT DO YOU DESIRE? WHO DO YOU DESIRE? POWER, PROTECTION, COMMUNITY. THE LIST CAN GO OWN, BUT WE ARE TO LEAD YOU AND HOPEFULLY OTHERS LIKE YOU TO SALVATION. " the sphere takes a moment and begins to stretch out as it encircles the man becoming a table with many different amorphous figures sitting around ROMEO, who stood in the middle. " DON'T YOU WISH TO BREAK SHE SHACKLES OF THE TYRANNY OF THIS WORLD? LEAD HUMANS TO A BRIGHTER FUTURE? THAT IS WHAT WE OFFER AND IF YOU SIMPLY BELIEVE, WE WILL SHOW YOU ALL IN TIME. "

he turns, looking at each figure that sits around him. he tries to discern faces, shapes, if he's seen them before.

he thinks about the question asked, about what this…thing claims it can do.

"power and control." it's what he struggles with. "i want to be enough to lead them. i want them to believe in me."

it's a simple truth, not easily stated and it tastes like poison on his tongue.

[ 8 ] ROMEO sees the figures but is unable to recognize any of the masked faces that surround him. " THEN NURTURE THIS GIFT WE GIVE TO YOU. ALLOW US TO SEEP INTO YOUR DIVINITY AND WE WILL GRANT YOU AND YOUR FATHER THE RELEVANCY YOU DESIRE IN THIS NEW WORLD. "

he pauses for a moment.

he looks down at his hands, lithe fingers that can cause destruction, that can conduct lightning like a symphony and summon gale force gusts to slice and beat against an opponent. it's those same hands that can also hurt those around him. those same hands that he's clenched into fists time and time again when he's felt the weight of disappointment and doubt cast upon him by some of the other godlings.

he hears virgil's latest comment, he sees oliver's and the others and how he should have composed himself better to not get kicked out. he hears rio's voice, he reads every word of the group chat the night of the banquet hall disaster.

but it's also those hands that have held atticus' hand, that have touched remy's lips, that have helped rebuild a destroyed cabin and helped others get back to their feet.

"no." romeo says, looking up from his hands toward the masked figures. "i don't *need *you."

" THEN WE SHALL TAKE YOU BY FORCE." roll a wisdom saving throw at disadvantage. [ 14 ] the son of ZEUS sees the dark purple around him condense itself into a tiny little orb once again before a thick tendril forces itself deep into ROMEO'S body and wrapping itself around his heart before ROMEO is shocked awake to his eyelids unable to be opened.

romeo tries to open his eyes and he can't. he clenches his fists into the sheets of the infirmary bed before he brings his hands to his eyes, rubbing them, trying to see if that might help.

ROMEO feels an ooze-like substance all over his hands as he attempts to rub his eyes.

"what the fuck?" romeo wipes his hands on the sheets of the bed and tries to summon his powers, trying to create a small rain storm to wash away the ooze.

ROLL A SPELLCASTING CHECK AT DISADVANTAGE. [ 21 ] the RAIN STORM washes away the ooze from his eyes and he's finally able to see, opening his eye lids and seeing runny purple ooze on his fingertips.

romeo blinks, letting the rain come down and wash away the ooze over his eyes. he focuses, trying to get it to wash over his hands, too. he doesn't care about causing a small storm inside the infirmary—he's destroyed enough buildings by now, what' s one more?

"no, no, no, no, no."

he gets up, moving to the nearest sink, the nearest shower, to try to wash some of this ooze off him. he has a half baked thought in the middle of it and stops, looking for a vial to collect some of it for later. xanthe, chiron, or someone else might be able to help him figure this out.

he collects a vial of the ooze as he attempts to wash it off. he is able to do it for now, something is telling him that there is something vile and menacing deep within his bones and ROMEO now needs to live with these consequences.

ROMEO IS CURSED AND HAS HIS POWER SLOWLY BEING SAPPED FROM HIM.

[sailorblossoms]

In today's episode of "Agatha and Simon were weird as hell together and would never have happened without heteronormative brainwashing"

I have talked about the second part of this: in 3 years together, Simon always went along with what he thought Agatha wanted (he was never doing what he wanted) and he always felt wrong. Breaking up wasn't an option for him, because it made him feel like he was blaming someone else for something that he felt was wrong with him. But there's also another element here: the way Agatha is emphasized, as if the mere idea of someone dumping her is preposterous. And this is very interesting: this isn't Simon telling us that he wanted Agatha, this is Simon unknowingly revealing that his self esteem is in shambles, and that he has attached part of his self worth to an idea he had of Agatha. Because he's there thing: when Simon meets her, he's stricken by her beauty in a way that has him imagining "how does it feel to be that beautiful?". He links it to being untouchable, beauty as strength and as a tool to be loved and wanted, beauty as a way to gain self-worth. He compares Agatha to an unicorn, and that's honestly how he treats the concept of dating her (beyond just playing along with the idea of "the damsel is a prize for the hero"): as if a mystical creature has deemed him worthy of attention, and that means he must be special in some way. That maybe he is worth something. And maybe if he keeps standing besides her, he can absorb some of that beauty too, maybe he can become desirable too (honestly we need to talk more about how in some ways Simon is also caged by gender norms). But this is all on a superficial level: he barely even thinks about her, he doesn’t really understand her, and he's never interested in changing any of this because he doesn't actually like her. He doesn't want intimacy with her, because he isn't attracted to her. Forcing it was traumatizing for him. It's maybe not a coincidence that the closest they ever feel is when Agatha is treating him like a younger brother ("are you in trouble again Simon?"). (Or in the goat scene, when they're both accompanied by their actual love interests).

Breaking up would have required Simon to process his lack of actual, real feelings for Agatha, which he wasn't remotely ready to during CO. But also: Simon didn't break up with Agatha because he felt like he was unworthy, like he would be blaming her, who "did nothing wrong", when "everything was wrong" with him. (It must have been hurtful and confusing, to idealize someone's beauty so much, and then to feel like something is broken when they try getting physical and he doesn't like it, when the simple answer that eludes him is that he's not sexually attracted to her). Simon dating Agatha is comphet, it's following traditional roles and stories, but it's also a consequence of how growing up an orphan in care fucked up with his self-esteem and self-worth.

(I like how Simon is revealing these big, thought provoking about his past in comphet while he simply can't help but be horny for Baz in a suit. Now that's literature folks)

Simon isn't wrong here, but also: he absolutely is. If I was Agatha and I heard him saying this I would sigh so hard I would levitate. Yeah, in a sense, Simon didn't "give up". Dating Agatha, fighting the big baddie and doing what the mage wanted all have the same thing in common: he's following the rules. He's blindly following orders, conventions, instructions, going along with what he has been told he's meant to be doing. He never had to think, he never had to process anything, he never had to figure out what's on his heart.

But also, saying you didn't give up implies that you actually tried. He certainly waited until Agatha got tired enough to dump him, it was easier than facing himself and process his shit. But can you really say "you tried" in a relationship if you don't even think about the person you're dating? It's "trying" and "not giving up" even a good way to measure something you don't actually want, where going through the motions, where trying everything that people are supposed to do when they're in a relationship ultimately only hurts both of you?

Of course, by the time he's with Baz, everything he had believed in has crumbled, and he's left with the fear that it's only a matter of time before he loses him to. And like @carryonsimoncarryonbaz told me, for Simon it's basically: if something he didn't even want didn't work out, what hope is there that something he desperately wants would? ... with Agatha, he never had to wonder about fighting for someone vs giving up, because not having feelings for her meant that he wasn't invested in the relationship, he was just willing to believe in traditional straight fairytales until he died on the battlefield, because he also didn't actually believe he would live to actually fulfill them. But now he's choosing to live outside of the battlefield, and he's learning that HEA aren't real, and loving someone means choosing them everyday. Knowing he can lose terrifies him, because he doesn't think he can survive losing Baz. And I'd argue that running after Baz, in spite of his fears, and choosing to never give up on their relationship because he loves him: that's the first time Simon is actually choosing not to give on something in his life (outside of his actual fights). There's no manual for this, no fairytales to brainwash you, no one to give you orders. Just some good ol' "following your heart"

[wilhelmloverera]

@rondoolie0324 don't be sorry at all!!! I'm so glad someone wants to hear my thoughts cause I have Many!

Especially about Marcus.

At first I was very middle of the road with Marcus - I didn't want to hate him because he was simply being Simon's rebound because that's not his fault! But that was because I didn't care about spoilers and actually while many were saying that the live triangle wouldn't happen, or that it was lazy, on my other account I said how I actually didn't hate the idea all that much considering how good the writing for it would be. I KNEW Marcus was a love interest for Simon. Knowing this fact made it easier to see him as a neutral character hence why I think my now hatred of him isn't unjustified.

He's no August, but his actions were still bad on a personal level. He was completely manipulative when he pulled out the dad card, also when he said Simon didn't want to ruin a beautiful thing despite Simon telling him that he wasn't ready for something serious. I feel no empathy or sympathy for him like i may have done had he not forced the nature of the relationship

Now, the wording is important because he didn't force Simon to seek him out, but he manipulated Simon to stay there and to enter a dynamic that he said he wasn't ready for. And then Marcus got upset for Simon acting in the "wrong way" for a relationship (kissing Wilhelm + i think sleeping with Wilhelm by the time Simon fully called it off for good) despite Simon not even wanting to be in an actual relationship.

To me, Marcus was emotionally manipulative, used Micke against Simon, and used Wille and the s3xtape to bolster himself up whenever Simon tried to end things. It's also ironic because Marcus didn't even realise that him not being like Wilhelm was why Simon didn't want him. And even if he was, Simon was in love with Wilhelm, even if he sort of wished he wasn't, so chatting shit and trying to make himself seem better definitely didn't help Marcus' case. If he had listened to Simon then maybe he would have been able to see that Simon was still hung up over Wille.

I haven't seen many people talk about this either, but I really hated how Marcus used Wille's prince status against Simon. He really used the fact that Wilhelm was the Crown Prince and alluded that was (at least partly) what drew Simon to him - like some sort of gold digger or drama lover. As if Simon isn't an anti-monarchist who can blame all that went down (following the sex tape leak) on Wille's royal title.

All in all, I really despise Marcus for all he put onto Simon before insulting him and trying to make it seem just because he was at Hillerska that he didn't face anything negative from the rich people there (which we know isn't true). He was belittled and seen as an other due to his class and this mf who knew him for ??? A few weeks??? Thinks he gets to call Simon out? I hate him

And then!! The things he could call Simon out on (like having something going on with Wille while Sircus were "together"), i still can't say he has a right to do since Simon tried to say he didn't want anything serious

All in all, Marcus was emotionally manipulative and wanted to get his way - either he simply wanted to sleep with Simon and thats it, or he saw it as a pride thing and the fact that Wilhelm was chosen over him was the worst. Maybe he was written this way to show the incompatibility with Simon, but it just comes off manipulative.

Wilmon had their miscommunications and only at the end of S2 did they finally see things from the others POV, realising their love meant needing sacrifices on both sides (a maturing yet still exploring kind of love), but we have a direct juxtaposition between Marcus and Wilhelm when it comes to Simon's emotions this season when Wille tells Simon of August being his back up. Wille was honest, said no he didn't tell him so Simon didn't go to the police, saying Simon had to do what he had to do, but Wille needed to communicate and be open about his feelings (something Simon wanted from him). He said this in front of Rosh and Ayub - he didn't híde them away from everyone when he could have (another thing that Simon talks during their locker room argument is being open and not secretive). And then he left, expecting nothing of Simon and letting him do what he needed. It was only when Simon could get in trouble that Wilhelm chased Simon down to stop him.

Wille was flawed in s1, so was Simon, but while they may have fought they never manipulated one another it was just miscommunication because so much was happening all at once. Marcus simply ignored Simon's wants for his own gain, including the very nature of their "relationship".