#why do soap always want to kill every character they have?! and then pull a 'ahah not dead' card when fans are upset | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lethalchiralium · 1 year

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wait wait wait!! you mentioned that you wanted to kill the missus quite a few times and mellie’s birth au was just 👌

so how about making simon’s fear with losing the missus with the home birth come true? i mean, atleast she dies in his arms unlike with mellie au? they can say goodbye and simon can self flagellate more by blaming his self for agreeing into this shit show that is now turning into a nightmare. imagine his panic during and his helplessness with needing to care for the baby while tending to you just bleeding over that bath tub. and goddamn it, why is the ambulance taking so long?!

-🥀

all of you are evil like me and i love it. I LOVE IT.

(https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8j9wEah/ , look. LOOK. grown out beard and hair simon is everything i need, he always has been and will always be happiness simon 🤠) (thanks to @as-is-above-so-below for some dialogue and overall delulu with me teehee)

WARNINGS: child birth, blood, character death, grief.

HAPPINESS AU.

Winnie and Mellie were gone for the weekend with Soap and Price by the time you were having your first contraction. Simon rushed home after your phone call, letting the small bag of groceries land on the table without stopping. He was up the stairs in two seconds flat, his shoes dragging rain throughout your house - he didn’t care. It was time. He burst through the bathroom door, similar to the way he did when you miscarried your first son. Now, he burst through the door, ready to help you deliver your son.

You had already set up plastic tarps and towels for your delivery in your bathtub; warm water level kept at a two inch height, a pillow behind your back as your hands gripped the rim of the porcelain. He was instantly tearing off his shoes, tossing them into the bedroom as he asked, “Give me the word and I’ll call the ambulance right now, love.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smirk, eyes screwed shut as you tried to stay quiet during the contraction, but you ultimately failed. A low groan came from the center of your chest as Simon quickly washed his hands, then moved to you. He smiled as he kissed your head, nervous as all Hell but ready to meet his son. His hand gently curled around the back of your head, the other settled just beside your hand that gripped the tub.

As soon as you let go and your eyes opened, Simon took your hand. Kissing the back of it, his smile made your heartbeat climb. He truly was the most beautiful person you knew.

“Ready to meet our baby?” You whispered, your own smile on your face as your empty hand rested on your belly.

He laughed, kissing your lips. He kept his face close to yours as he pulled his lips away, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m ready.” He stayed there for just a second before he moved, getting into the tub to kneel between your legs. His eyes met yours, he spoke softly, “You sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?”

You shook your head, hand reaching for his - your fingers linking together linked together with his as you uttered the words, “I want to do this with just you.” You wanted to have this experience with just him and him alone.

He held out his other hand and you took it, the tremors in your belly grew painful again, another contraction roared its head and you squeezed your eyes shut. He glanced down, his heart racing as he could see his son crowning. Your hands trembled, your head began to compress as you gritted your teeth; this was the worst one yet. It felt like everything was pulling, pulling, pulling until-

Snap.

The scream you let out was terrifying, but Simon still clutched your hands tightly as you squeezed his. Something was wrong.

“Simon- Simon, call the ambulance.”

His eyes looked up to your face, panic instantly running through his chest. “What?”

“Something’s-“ A wince left your throat. Tears fell faster from your eyes, the red hot pain in your pelvis felt like it was increasing dramatically at every second.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What’s-“

He looked back down and all he saw was blood.

He didn’t even remember calling 999 by the time he was in the tub, kneeling in front of you and covered in your blood. He couldn’t even admit to himself that he was scared, he felt nothing but fear as he pulled his son out, taking him into his arms. Blood rushed out of you, Simon pressed a towel in between your legs to try and curb the bleeding, his eyes watching you frantically. With his knee pressing the towel into you, his one free hand reached for you.

Your eyes began to haze over, tears in them as you spoke, “I don’t- I don’t wanna die.”

“You’re not, sweetheart. You’re not gonna die on me.” He spoke, squeezing your hand before he began to move his son to rest on your bare chest. “Gotta hold ‘im, love. Just for a second, I need to try and stop the bleeding.”

You have him a languid nod, your hand coming to rest on top of your baby as he cried against your sweaty skin.

“His name.” Your voice was broken, tired; your hands weak against your strong baby as he cried and cried.

Simon pulled the towel away, it was soaked with blood. He grabbed another from the stack beside the tub, pressing it in between your legs again with his knee before he looked back to you. Your face full of tears, your hands cradling your son.

“Where the fuck is the ambulance?” His head looked up towards the bathroom door, hoping he would hear paramedics enter through his front door - but he heard nothing.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re gonna be fine, Y/N.”

“I don’t want to leave you, Simon.”

“You’re not.”

“I don’t want to be someone who hurts you after… after I’ve done so much to heal you.”

He heard movement, a call from his living room and hope sparked in his chest. His head jolted towards the door, he shouted back, “Up here! She’s up here!” He looked back to you. “They’re here, love. Just a minute longer and they can help you, okay?” He could hear the boots as they ran through the house, he gazed at your exhausted face. “I’m gonna have to move you, love. Hold onto him, hold onto the baby.”

You barely nodded before he let go of your hands, then he was quick to get out of the tub - he pulled you up and out of the tub, his heart stung as he heard your broken scream of pain. He placed you on the ground, taking another towel and pressing it between your legs. There was so much blood, Simon couldn’t even think straight as he placed more towels underneath your head.

“Just a minute longer.”

Your eyes opened, tears pouring from them as you struggled to smile and nod. “Okay, Si. Okay.”

The paramedics came through the doorway, instantly dropping bags of medical equipment onto the tile floor. Simon moved to kneel beside her head, he ignored the paramedics as they began to work on you.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, his eyebrows furrowed as he held your face.

“Don’t. Don’t do that.” He gave you a reassuring smile, trying to keep you in good spirits. He wanted you to be okay, he needed you to be okay. “You’re fine, everything’s fine.”

There was a low rumble that came from your throat, you glanced down at your son before looking back up at your husband. Your wonderful, beautiful husband who loved you more than you have ever been loved in your entire life. “Take him.”

Those words made Simon’s blood turn ice cold. You had waited so long to hold your son, you were meant to hold him, they were working on you. You would be fine. “N-No. You-“

“I’m fine, remember?”

“But-“ If I take him, you’ll leave.

“I’m fine, baby. Take our son.” If there was a moment when he could stop time and admire your face, it would be then. It would be when your smile was small, you looked so hopeful. “…Please, Simon.”

His hands felt ice cold as he gently pulled his warm newborn from your chest, the baby pawed at his chest as he wailed. He looked to a paramedic, they nodded and reached for his son, taking him from Simon’s blood stained hands. Your husband looked back to you, watching your lively eyes begin to dull and flutter closed.

“I love you, Simon Riley.”

“No, baby, no-“

“I love you.”

“Y/N Riley, open your eyes. Open your eyes, goddammit!” One hand gently smacked your cheek, the other held the hand with your beautiful wedding ring on it. “Don’t- Don’t go. Please, don’t go.”

His son screamed across the room, to Simon it sounded like he was begging for you to stay too.

“Wake up. Wake up, baby, c’mon. Wake up, it’s not funny. It’s not-“ He choked on a sob, tears streaming down his cheeks. He would never forget how warm you were, how warm your hand was, how warm your blood was. “Baby. Y/N. Please. I can’t do this- I can’t do this again.”

Nothing left your lips.

His chest curled inwards, his heart crushing with every beat. Red hot spears went through his spine, through his arms and legs - the warm light that came from the light fixture felt like a thousand needles in his skin. He felt anger. He wanted to break his hand in the wall beside him, wanted to scream as loud as he could, for as long as he could. He wanted to die at that exact moment.

He wanted to tell you he loved you, but the wave of grief had walled and hit him dead on. He bowed his head to you, sobs leaving his chest as his hands held your face and hand.

The paramedics sat and watched the display, yet their hands prodded at Simon, trying to move him away from you. A scream ripped from his throat, his face then buried in your neck as nauseating sobs escaped his lips.

You were supposed to stay. You were so excited to meet your son, so excited to have this stupid home birth, excited to be doing it with him. You always loved him so much, and he showed you that he loved you by constantly choosing his career over you - but you were always so understanding. You just wanted to have a baby with him, have him be there with you, to hold and comfort you.

His sobs became silent and painful when he came to a devastating realization.

You would never see your babies grow up.

gotta love the angsty happiness asks

#happiness series #lethalchiralium #lethal chiralium #🥀 anon #simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x wife!reader #simon riley call of duty #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x wife!reader

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cordeliawhohung · 6 days

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https://www.tumblr.com/andmuzzlethat/679840966796050432/heres-weirder-asks-who-isare-your-comfort

ok bonding exercises answer every single one of these (or just a few ones ur comfortable with!)

bet.

who is/are your comfort character(s)?

i don't really have one? simon riley and i are basically the same person tho

lighter or matches?

lighter

do you leave the window open at night?

dogs are too loud and so is the moon

which cryptid being do you believe in?

skinwalkers for sure

what color are your eyes?

wouldn't you like to know weather boy

why did you do that?

thought it would look cool (it never does)

hair-ties or scrunchies?

i usually use claw clips. my hair is too thick

how many water bottles are in your room right now?

which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee?

i hate coffee

would you slaughter the rich?

certainly

favorite extracurricular activity?

sleeping

what kind of day is it?

the kind that needs to end already

when was the last time you ate?

maybe 6 hours ago

do you love the smell of earth after it rains?

yes

are you a parent? (all answers qualify)

can you drive?

unfortunately

are you farsighted or nearsighted?

extremely nearsighted

what hair products do you use?

shampoo, conditioner, mouse, some refreshing spray that sorta helps the frizz

imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?

only if you want them done poorly

do you say soda or pop?

soda

something you’ve kept since childhood?

grief

what type of person are you?

exceptionally mediocre

how do you feel about chilly weather?

would take it over the triple digit desert heat any day

if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing?

listening

perfume/body spray or lotion?

body spray

a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times?

getting away

about how many hours of sleep did you get?

maybe 5?

do you wear a mask?

sometimes at work but not usually

how do you like your shower water?

warm

is there dishes in your room?

some water cups ):

what type of music keeps you grounded?

the music i like usually ascends me

do you have a favorite towel?

thin beach towels, i hate things that are too heavy

the last adventure you’ve been on?

just went on a backasswards adventure with my partner trying to get his truck

is there a song you know every word to by heart?

wayfaring stranger

what’s your timezone?

wouldn't you like to know weatherboy

how many times have you changed your url?

have kept the same one since i created it

someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years?

my partner

a soap bar that smells good?

don't usually use soap bars except the dial antibacterial one that smells like old man

do you use lip balm?

usually at work

did you have any snacks today?

my partner brought me a smoothie

how do you take your coffee?

hate coffee

an app you frequently use besides this godforsaken site?

my phone says second to tumblr is google chrome lmao

what’s your take on spicy foods?

love spicy foods

you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it?

his name is on the tip of my tongue but i couldn't pull the trigger then and i don't think i could now lmao

can you remember what happened yesterday?

do most people not?

favorite holiday film?

don't really watch movies for the holiday ):

what was the last message you sent?

"religion gets away with too much and also puts their hands on too much" (we're talking about cults okay)

when did you first try an alcohol beverage?

my father left his beer laying around when i was a kid and when i was like 5 i snuck a drink because he was always drinking it and it was so gross i didn't touch that shit again until i turned 20 lmao

can you skip rocks?

i can get like 3 skips maybe

can i tag you in random stuff?

sure

#core responds

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soggyriceee · 1 year

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HELLO SOGGY I HOPE THAT ARE YOU WELL AND DOING GOOD, I WISH YOU THE BEST 💗💗💗

ALSO I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH, YOURE ONE OF MY TOP TUMBLR WRITERS!!!

I'd love to request a fic with John "Soap" Mactavish, if you are okay with writing him. If not, you can 7se whatever character you think will fit to this!

And my idea is:

Soap finally got his days off the work, so reader wanted to make him a welcome home suprise. He came home very tired, to eat his favourite food that she made him for dinner, and go to sleep with reader. But reader bought a new pajama. A sexy pajama, that instantly turned him on.

Anddd we all know where it goes hehe.

I would really love if this was a soft, gentle smut. They're very happy to finally touching themselves again c:

- 🦝 (That's me :D)

missed you | John "Soap"

yess, guys plzz request more of the other MW2 men I write for all of themmm~ (not edited)

warnings: oral(f!receiving), soft dom Soap, fingering, praise, missionary, cowgirl, breeding kink but like..cutely??? just really romantic, lovey dovey seggs, listener and Soap orgasm twice

you knew what you were doing. wearing the lace pink, see-through lingerie dress, with a light pink matching set. what you loved the most about it, was that flowers were decorated all over. you had white ribbons on the side of your underwear, a light pink flower in the center. your bra had tiny 'John' chain in the center, the cups a lacy pink. it was beautiful.

but of course, you hadn't put it on until you got out the shower. you wanted to have a romantic night with him. you hadn't seen him in 7 months, he was off in Chicago for another mission he had given you little information about. he hated you knowing how many people he'd have to kill.

"dinner was delicious my love." he smiled, kissing your palm, looking into you eyes. your cheeks couldn't help but turn pink, giggling as he pulled away. you had cooked his favorite meal for dinner, wanting to make sure the night was entirely perfect for him. you both missed each other so much, you couldnt help but spend the whole day perfecting your house. and he couldnt help but bring you far too many gifts from Chicago consisting of clothes, food and random items he found in gift shops or stores.

" go shower, I'm gonna clean up before we get too comfortable in the bed." you smiled, standing from the table. "I can help you baby, dont be silly." he chuckled, grabbing his own plate before you could. but no. as much as you loved cleaning with him, you needed a reason to shower and put on the lingerie. " please, I dont want us both to stay up late. for tonight let me clean for you, you go rest and relax. you had a long mission." you said, taking his plate.

thankfully that excuse was good enough. he agreed and went to shower, quietly sad you didnt want to shower with him. aside from the sexual factor of showering together, he truly did just want to have an intimate, romantic moment with you after the romantic dinner you set up for him. but he knew you were a stubborn woman and he wasn’t going to argue with you.

stepping out the shower, you grabbed the towel he had laid out for you, drying your body. successfully, you were able to sneak in the new set, hiding it in the sink cabinet. of course, it worked. why would he look under there anyways?

you pulled it out, examining the new set with a smile spread across your face. John always loved pink on you. it was the color you wore when you met him. you remember it like it was yesterday. and it always brought a smile to your face when you thought about it when he was away.

it was actually pretty funny. you hated him at first. but he fell in love with you the second he walked into the bakery you used to work at. he came in every day, ordering the same coffee with a croissant. and he’d flirt with you the entire time you’d take his order. you of course, being a college student focusing on nothing but your studies and money, paid him no mind and found him pretty annoying. especially with the constant bragging of his muscles.

“you know, when you get off there’s still this ice cream bar open down the street. i think you’d like it.” he smiled, leaning on the counter completely oblivious to the long line of people forming behind him. with a sarcastic smile, you handed him his receipt. “great i’ll check it out. next.” you responded, looking past him.

but he never gave up obviously. it got to the point even your manager was encouraging you to give him a chance. so, the next time he came in, before he could even say anything, you agreed. “okay. let’s go out.” you said, handing him the croissant you already had beside you.

from then on he’s been completely unable to leave you alone, still making his daily trips to your job to see you. and naturally, as time went on, you became equally obsessed with him. that was three years ago, and a year ago, he officially asked you to move in with him.

of course with that came a lot of alone time. with him being away in the military, which was something he had bragged a lot about during his little flirting moments. “i shoot guns and stuff y’know? lots of super hero activities.” he would joke, wiggling his eyebrows to you, despite the blank stare your give in return.

but with time, you got used to it. not fully. nights were the worst. but it got easier. he called you every chance he could. sent you letters that ,sometimes, never ended up getting to you until even after he got back from wherever he was stationed at.

you snapped back from your little day dream when a small knock came to the bathroom door. “my love.. is everything okay?” he asked, twisting the door knob. quickly, you pressed against the door, holding the knob still. “y-yea just looking on my phone. i’ll be out in a second.”

you began to apply the lotion, rushing so he doesn’t actually walk into the bathroom, spoiling the surprise. you felt a bit rushed, and you were praying you looked as beautiful as you were imagining you would. with the last fix of your hair, you walked out the bathroom and into the connecting bedroom.

on the bed, John laid on his back, pillow over his head. it was a technique he told you he learned in the military that helped him and a few others sleep when away from home. but once you walked closer to him, he removed the pillow, sitting up. and his jaw, literally, dropped. “oh my.. "

as you stood shyly at the door, John slowly made his way over to you, his eyes moving up your body slowly before meeting your eyes. "you look beautiful.." he breathed out, his hands moving to grab your waist. " so beautiful."

as he pressed further against you, his hard on became more and more difficult to ignore. he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. the kiss wasn't rough, but it wasn't gentle either. it was more so passionate. his fingers gripping your waist, pulling you more into him as if that was even possible, your boobs hurting from the pressure. your hands found his cheeks, cupping them as his tongue slid into your mouth.

he began to back away, keeping you on his body. when his legs his the end of the bed, he fell, back pressing to the mattress. your hands found their way on either side of his head, holding yourself up as the kiss continued.

pulling away, he looked up at you. " you look so beautiful I just.. I wanna worship you.. can I do that?" he asked, his hands moving up and down your body, your smooth skin putting him in a trance like state. when you nodded, he smiled brightly, flipping you over.

your head rested on the cotton pillows, your legs being spread apart and John's head in between your legs before you could even realize. his fingers hooked around the waistband of your lacy underwear, dragging them down slowly. he took in how your bare pussy gleamed for him, his bottom lip tugging between his teeth. oh how he'd dreamed of this moment since he got on that plane back home.

once your underwear got to your ankles, he kept them there, lifting your legs to dip underneath them and allowing them to rest on his shoulders. his hands found your hips, pulling you onto his face. yes he was desperate and he for sure was excited. but he didnt know if it was how long he was gone for this time, or just the fact you looked so beautiful, but he wanted to take his time with you tonight. he wanted to make love with you.

the second he felt the heat from your pussy on his lips, he leaned in, sighing in pleasure as he tasted you for the first time in 7 months. your mouth opened slightly, a short breath leaving your lips as he pulled you clit between his lips. his eyes fluttered shut, head resting on your thigh as he gently, slowly made out with your cunt.

"J-Johnny.." you breathed out, fingers finding his hair. that was his favorite. whether it was to simply massage his head or when he was between your legs, he loved the feeling of your tugging his hair. it was peaceful for him.

his tongue slid in and out your cunt, soft squelching sounds coming from it. your head rested on the pillow, back arching slightly off the bed. his hands gripped around your waist tighter, holding you close to his face. it wasn't like you were going anywhere, but he loved the idea of controlling your body movements.

he opened his eyes, looking up at your arched back and slightly open mouth. "feels good love?" he said into your pussy, circling his tongue right to your clit. you nodded, whimpering at the circular movement. he chuckled, continuing exactly that.

your breathing picked up, head lifting to look down at him. he smiled up at you while pulling your clit into his mouth, sucking right back on it. you hadn't even realized it, but his fingers pressed right at your entrance and slowly, made their way inside you. gasping at the double pleasure, your head fell right back onto the pillow.

"oh fuck Johnny.. too good." you whined, your feet now pressing flat on the bed. he felt you trying to pull away from him, but he was far too drunk off your pussy to give you a break. his fingers slowly moved in a "come here" motion, hitting right at your g spot, his tongue moving in circles around your clit at the same pace.

your stomach turned pleasurably, preparing for the first orgasm you'd be having in months. of course, with Johnny being gone you managed to buy yourself toys to keep you company. not even just for that, but also to try and incorporate them into sex with Johnny. but you only ended up using them for maybe a month or two before realizing it wasn't the same as the real thing. it wasn't the same as Johnny.

" look so beautiful love, so beautiful." he whispered, kissing your clit while his fingers continued to move inside you. your slick ran down to his knuckles, only making him harder. he couldn't help but move his hips against the mattress, trying to relieve some of the pain. but it didnt do much. and it only got worse once your legs began to shake on either side of his head.

it was embarrassingly fast you were going to cum. and you tried to think of a billion other things to help you not cum around his fingers and tongue. but Johnny made that increasingly more difficult. " cum for me baby. show me how much you missed me." he moaned against your pussy, grinding faster onto the mattress.

panting, you raised your head to look down at him. that sight alone made your orgasm take over. "I-im cumming.. oh Johnny~" you cried, your legs shaking fingers gripping onto the sheets. Johnny whimpered beneath you, slurping every last but you had to give him. he held your hips down onto his face, helping you ride out your orgasm.

as your legs began to calm down, he slowed down his tongue movements. "j-johhny please" you choked out, trying to get him off of you. but he wasn't budging. his hands sunk around your thighs, squeezing them gently before tugging you back onto his face further. as he did so, his tongue slid right back into your still throbbing hole, sighing as he tasted the sweetness of your juices on his tongue.

your head pressed back into the pillow, whimpering out as he moved his wet muscle in and out of your hole slowly. "missed the taste of you so much.. gimme one more. can you do that for me love? please." he begged between your thighs, taking his thumb to rub at your sensitive, puffy clit. you gave him a weak yes, gripping onto the sheets firmer, nails digging into your palm simultaneously.

his thumb moved in a faster circle, tongue moving to match that speed. "taste so good. love being between your legs." he moaned, shoving his face deeper into your pussy.

your eyes crossed as you felt his tongue rub right against your spongy g-spot, the feeling of his thumb on your clit adding to the sensation. "i'm s-so close.. " you whimpered, grinding your hips on his face. moaning into your pussy, he looked up at you. keeping eye contact, his thumb rubbed faster against your puffy clit.

he didn't even have to say much before you felt your second orgasm take over your body. "thats it baby.. feel good for me." he cooed, sucking gently over your overstimulated clit. weakly, you shove him away, this time successfully. " sorry.. just missed you so much." he smiled, lifting himself up from the mattress.

as your legs stopped shaking, he positioned himself between your legs, rubbing his tip up and down your slit. "did you miss me too my love?" he whispered, looking up into your eyes. your head nodded quickly, pushing up slightly enough for his tip to push inside. a gasp slipped past you both, his hips quickly moving back.

giggling, he moved his hands to your hips. "so impatient. but its okay. i'm impatient to." he whispered before slowly pressing into your tight warmth. your hands were quick to ball up, mouth forming into an 'O' shape. as he bottomed out into you, his forehead pressed against yours. "fuck I missed this." he groaned, pulling his bottom lip in-between hips teeth.

your hands cupped his cheeks, pressing his lips onto yours. the kiss was passionate. not your usual desperate, sloppy makeout. this one was surprisingly slow. slow but deep. your tongues danced together as his hips slowly pushed away and slowly moved forward again. he sped up a tad bit, nothing to the point bed was creaking or shaking. it was a steady, deep speed. one that allowed you both to just feel each other.

his hands roamed your body, cupping your boobs through the bra. you pulled away to look up at him, a smile on both faces. "I know.. we keep saying I-it but.. I missed you a lot." you said, small moans coming from you before the words could. he chuckled at your small struggle, rubbing his thumb against your cheek. " I missed you so much more my love.." he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek.

his other hand made busy with your clit, thumb rubbing it slowly and adding just enough pressure to the still puffy nerve. it didn't take long for his finger to get coated in your slick. "so wet.. don't know how long I can take." he moaned, picking up the pace slowly. you weren't complaining about this. and you honestly weren't expecting him to last too long after 7 months of using his hand alone. maybe a DIY flesh light if he even had the time and tools to make one. which you figured was very unlikely.

his balls slapped against the curve of your arse, his head falling into your neck. his moans slowly turned into whimpers and you knew by that alone he was definitely close. your hands wrapped around his neck, his head slowly lifting up. his eyes were hooded slightly, bottom lip again caught between his teeth. "g-gonna wait for you love.. so we c-can cum.. together." he groaned, looking in your face but quickly looking away. but where else was there to look? your face alone was enough to make him finish right then and there, so that wasn't an option. your body was perfect, the way it looked in the lingerie. the way the lighting in the room illuminated your skin and every curve you have. and oh how your moans and whimpers only made his balls tighten.

through all his struggle, he lost the battle and ended up cumming right then and there. "f-fuck..” he groaned, pressing his body over yours, panting into your neck. you smiled softly, running your hands through his hair as he grinds his hips into yours. “i.. thought i’d last a bit longer.” he breathed out. you could feel the heat from his cheeks against your neck.

you tugged his hair, pulling his head up gently. “sit back.” you said, pushing him off you. as he slid out, you fell his cum seep out of your pussy. he lazily sat back against the headboard, looking up at you as you shifted yourself over his semi hard on. you grabbed it with your hand, using his own cum and your juices as lube.

his hips bucked up a bit, still sensitive. “god you so beautiful.” he breathed out, scanning over your body. his hands reached out, pulling you closer into his chest. he leaned in, biting your nipple through your bra. you whimpered, gripping onto him a bit firmer. he smiled, pulling away to look up at you. “sorry.” he said.

rolling your eyes, you pumped him a bit more. when he was fully up again, you rubbed the tip against your folds, humming as the mix of your wetness and his cum covered your pussy. “come on baby.. don’t do this to me.” he whined, thrusting up gently. giggling, you gave into him and slid down onto his length. gasping, you both leaned your heads back.

his hands were quick to find your hips, guiding you up and down slowly. your body’s moved together, filling the room with little quiet skin slaps with a mix of your moans mixed together. “oh fuck Johnny.. love you so much.” you whimpered, looking down at him. his mouth was slightly ajar, eyes rolled back. as much as he did wanna respond, your pussy was too much for him to even process fully what you said.

your slick ran down to his balls, only making his fingers dig deeper into you. gently, he began to thrust up into you. your fingers remained in his hair, tugging on it gently. his eyes met yours, hands still gripping your hips. “so perfect.. your so perfect.” he panted, “w-wanna start a.. family with you.”

at first you thought it was simply the sex making him talk like that. but you remembered how before he left he’d talk about starting a family, what it would be like to be a military dad. every time you both went to the store he’d make a 10 minuet pit stop to look at the baby clothes.

as you processed what he said, you began to feel your stomach turning and you knew you were close. “i love you so much.” he moaned, picking up his pace slightly. his legs very gently began to shake, his head falling into your chest. “come on love make love with me. show me how much you love me too.” he whimpered.

your hips matched his speed, the sound of skin clapping growing louder. you grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up and kiss you. another deep, passionate kiss. for some reason, you loved this type of sex more than the rough “coming back home” sex. you felt like you both were bonding. spiritually and physically. you loved it. and you loved the idea of carrying his baby even more.

“i w-wanna start a family t..too.” you whined, pulling away from the kiss. he smiled up at you, slowing his hips down. as your hips continued to move, you felt yourself coming closer to the end. your pussy pulsed around his length, hands gripping onto him firmer. “g-gonna cum.” you whimpered, moving slightly quicker.

just as you came around him, body shaking and head tilting back, he thrusted up deeply into you, moaning your name out. his head found the crook of your neck, panting into it as his hips thrusted up into you slowly, pushing all his cum inside you. your hips came to a halt, letting him ride out his and your orgasm. “fuck i love you.” he whispered, slumping back against the bed again.

you smiled, resting your head on his chest while he softened inside of you. you both ended up staying like this, discussing the risks of having a baby right now. but also the positives. “i’m ready for this if you are.” you said as he slid out from below you. gently, he laid you on the bed, pressing a kiss to your neck.

“i’m ready to spend the rest of my life with you my love. whatever you want to do, i’ll do. if you wanna have this baby with me, i’ll make it the best and easiest pregnancy i possibly can.” he said, standing from the bed.

smiling at him, you nodded your head. “okay. let’s start a family.”

omg i really hope you all like this😭 i’ve never written a vanilla smut but the idea was so cute it honestly is one of my favorite works. anyways PLEASE REQUEST OTHER CHARACTERS I WRITE FOR ALL OF THEMM

#cod #call of duty fan fiction #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #soap cod #johnny soap mactavish

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trashiewrites · 2 years

Text

MW Halloween HCs

Happy Spooky day yall! Here are some HC’s i cranked up for the boys plus Farah 👀 spending time with you of the fateful day!

Price:

+No....

+you tried to do something at least decorate the house. He shut you down so fast.

+Plus, He doesn't believe in it and thinks it's a waste of money.

+You told him "THiNk AbOuT THe CHilDrEn JoHN" and I shit you not his response was "Sure I'll give them a good scare" As he pulls out his gun he carries.

+ You then make him aware of the potential lawsuits for you know BRADISHING A GUN TO CHILDREN

+He proceeds to put the gun away "No decorating"

+You ignored him, you bought small decorations anyway with your own money so he couldn't complain. Your favorite is a skeleton bowl that you placed on his nightstand one night after he fell asleep, woke up, and yelped because he woke up with a skeleton in front of him.

+Proceed to laugh in his face. To be honest, he laughs too cause it did get him pretty good.

Soap:

+ Wouldn't be surprised if Soap signed up for a decorating contest cause I feel he would love to decorate these types of things

+He even makes custom stuff

+you help him OFC, mainly by going out and getting supplies when he needs them.

+ He takes such pride and you as an extra touch Help Soap Get costumes that help match the theme of the decorations for the wear so that way when you guys hand out treats together you guys look in character and can trick a few scared in!

+Soap loves interacting with the kids. Honestly seeing the kids walk up amazed at his work on the house is why he does it.

+DadTavish energy vibes are especially high. Like he is so close to having a full-on baby fever episode.

+He gets really sad the day after because he knows he's not gonna be able to keep his props. But you guys sell the props online because they actually have a big market for this kind of stuff. Saves up money for next year's theme!

Ghost:

+He tries so hard...

+He usually doesn't pay any heed to such a holiday but he wanted to try it

+TBH the only reason he never did is that kids are normally scared to talk to him due to his mask. He's always been marked as intimidating.

+he bought simple decorations for the outside of his house and a silly little skeleton bowl for the candy he was gonna give out.

+He asked you to help him set it all up. But it was really just for the nerves

+ Day of Halloween, he didn't really dress up per se. He just kinda wore the uniform.

+Halloween became his favorite holiday that day :)

+ "Wow Mister! I love your Skull Trooper costume!" He doesn't know where exactly it's from but it meant so much to him

+ After that night he was so silently happy. Whenever it happens, he looks over at you every time with a glow in his eyes. It is so fucking cute

+Now he looks forward to Halloween every year!

Gaz:

+COUPLE COSTUMES AND YOU KNOW IT!

+He spent the entirety of the month chatting with you about different duos you both could be. This is the heaviest debate every year cause you two can never agree.

+you want to do a duo from your fav show while he would want to do the cliche couple ones like Peter pan and Wendy; just some Disney.

+You guys compromised this year by doing a duo from your favorite animated movie. (For example, Chihiro and Haku from spirited away, but you choose whatever)

+ Once the whole costume problem ends, you can finally decide what you guys go do for the holiday itself. Which is something you guys luckily can easily get behind each other's ideas. At least, you guys have civil conversations about it.

+ he usually tries to bring up doing a haunted house and then heading to a party. This year Shut him down on at least the haunted house. Why you may ask, well Gaz doesn't do haunted houses very well... Like horribly.

+ It's either he gets too on edge and almost kills an actor, or he panics and passes out. Two years in a row... So you really don't want to deal with another hospital bill. Despite him saying He'll be okay and he won't do it... You highly doubt that... Cause he has always been pretty jumpy.

Roach:

+He wanted to go trick or treating... REALLY BADLY.

+ Yeah you didn't believe him at first when he asked you about you, "Aren't you too old for that Gary?" You wouldn't believe how loudly he gasped.

+ "YOU'RE NEVER TOO OLD FOR FREE CANDY!" Gary shed a single tear as he ran to your shared bedroom. You couldn't hold your sigh as he went off on his dramatic antics again. Every time, this happens every single time...

+ When you finally agree to it, he celebrates and does a little happy dance. God the shit this GROWN MAN does that makes him the world's oldest 5-year-old.

+ That happy dance stops when you ask one question, "So, what are you going to be?" He stops right where he is and stays for a bit before looking back at you... "u h h, shit... I don't know."

+ He dragged you to the Halloween shop with him so he can try out the costumes, which might I add, took about 3 hours of your day.

+ He couldn't pick between being Michael Myers or some other creepy monster you didn't know the name of. Of course, he asked your opinion, aka you choose which one he picks cause he's so damn indecisive.

+ On Halloween, he was practically jumping off the walls in the evening!

+For you, enjoying a nice stroll in the cool breeze but seeing Roach so happy is nice too. Even better when you two stop for a break and he reaches into his candy sack and hands you your favorite candy cutely. "Thank you for coming with me (y/n)."

+ Before anyone asks, yes, yes, he does get really weird looks because he is semi-tall... Like they aren't going to say anything cause he's wearing a mask and even if he wasn't wearing one, he has a baby face so he still would get his candy.

Alex:

+I'm going to be completely honest with Ya... He seems like the guy that likes true crime.

+ SO, instead of typical Halloween stuff like Horror movies and cobwebs. You both are watching true crime documentaries while making little knife cookies!

+Honestly you two get really sad at the end because you can't help but feel horrible for the victims of these killers you had watched. So, after the documentary binge, you both just relax and watch normal things.

+Honestly Alex forgot it was Halloween until someone came to the door for a trick or treat. Sadly, he had to bear the bad news to the kids. He didn't have candy but offered a knife cookie.

+ With the consent of the parents, he put them in a little sandwich baggie and gave it to them.

+You looked back at him with a small glare at him giving the cookies, "what you want me to leave them empty-handed?" You nodded, "Oh come on (y/n), not like you're going to eat them all anyways." You took that as a challenge.

+ you got sick the next day :D Alex was also mad that you legit ate all the fucking cookies. He only got to have like 3 out of the 14 or so.

Farah:

+ So, Farah doesn't really get the purpose of Halloween. But she gets one thing. It is the one day she can scare the living shit out of you all day and you can't be mad at her for it.

+She hinds in the most obscure places and somehow knows where you are going to go at all times.

+ Honestly, it freaks you out how many times she can scare you in one day... Her record is 20.

+ Poor you get so anxious and somewhat competitive cause you want to catch her before she can scare you. Have you done so? no, currently you have zero points on that front...

+ "Boo!" you screamed and fell backward, "Haha! got you again (y/n)!" she lends you a hand as you proceed to tell her that this isn't what Halloween is supposed to be. "Well, it is this for me and I quite like this holiday. Keeps your senses sharp, doesn't it?"

Alejandro:

+ You two don't really celebrate Halloween, the most you two do is buy decorations and make little Halloween snacks. Also, Alejandro has a weird obsession with candy corn...

+ You guys also watch Horror movies but that really is for Halloween, nothing special.

+ You guys celebrate Dias de Los Muertos, which is really big for him! You guys have an ofrenda in your house and his family usually hosts a big party to celebrate the day which you are happily welcomed to!

+ If you have ever been to a Mexican party, you can probably expect what it's like. If you don't know, just know its fucking amazing! fresh food of all kinds, all kinds of booze, and top that with a loud stereo or a live band!

+ Personally believe that Alejandro would bust out a guitar and play a song or two! Aka, I believe he has a killer Spanish singing voice, English... He's okay with it.

Graves:

+Take this as you wish, But I'm telling you right now this man is way too fascinated with slasher films... I MEAN IT, HE LOVES THEM SO MUCH!

+ Legit you guys prob had a bucket that you would handle the trick-or-treaters because he won't leave that screen. HE'S SO FOCUSED!

+ It honestly shocks you how many of these types of movies this man can watch in one sitting cause honestly it prob gets boring after about 3 of them. I'm sure he watched maybe 14 movies throughout the entire day. MIND YOU, THIS ISNT A FLEX!

+ Cheers and makes comments about the character deaths, "That girl totally deserved to die, like who the fuck is that stupid to go that way like honestly dear fucking god..."

+ One character's head got, you know, smashed and I SWEAR, the first thing out his mouth was "Haha! Pop!" LIKE IT WAS NOTHING!!! not even a flinch... I refuse to believe this man isn't a walking red flag

#CODMW #cod mw22 #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 remastered #captain price #captain mactavish #john price #John Mactavish #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #simon riley #happy halloweeeeeeen #halloween #spooky

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faccal · 6 months

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🌲 What is the kindest thing your OC has ever done for someone? What is the kindest thing someone has ever done for them? On the flip side, what is the worst thing your OC has done to another person?

🌾 What would your OC be like if they were evil. Or if they’re already evil what would they be like as the good guy?

🌼 Describe one of your OC’s worst nightmares.

Yay!!!! More stuff I can drop about Scotty!!!!

These are from this ask list.

Full warning, long ass post ahead. Also CW for mentions of violence.

🌲 Kindest thing your OC has done for someone: feel like for this one I'm really gonna have to think long and hard because the thought has never occured to me before.

I'd say the nicest thing Scotty has ever done for someone wasn't actually related to his team for once, and instead directed towards others in need.

Whenever he was off duty, since he couldn't return home, he'd volunteer at different shelters or rehabilitation places to help those in rough situations and mindsets. He wanted to help those in similar positions to what he was once in, and also he sometimes saw his parents in the people needing rehabilitation or who needed help recovering from addictions. He knew he could never undo what he did to his father, but he thought that maybe if he could help others in the ways he could not help his parents, then maybe he could move on and be forgiven.

Nicest thing done for him: I'd say the nicest thing someone has ever done for him (in his eyes) is simply be there. Soap(or Price depending on the version) pulls him out of a bad situation with a different team. The captain was a POS and Scotty was damn close to a discharge that would not have been good. Soap managed to get the necessary people convinced to hand him over. People were confused why Soap wanted him, and then were angry when they saw how well Scotty performed and everything he could do. He just needed proper leadership. Scotty's always been a little lost, never quite fitting in until the 141. Soap saving him from himself and others was the kindest thing that ever happened to him. Later when they rescued Price, Scotty immediately fell in line behind him. He respects and admires Price and Soap. They're important to him.

Worst thing he's done to someone else: I'd say the worst thing Scotty has ever done to another person (aside from killing people for a living) is beat the shit out of his father. He ran away to the military after doing so, but he beat his father so close to death that when the man recovered he did not seek any action against his son because he was so petrified. After years and years of torment from both his parents, Scotty finally had enough, and during one of his parents drunken nights where he was almost attacked, he finally loses it. He grabs his father's bottle, smashes it on his head and proceeds to bash at the man's face, arms, anything and everything he can reach. He then pummels at his father's face while his mother screams and sobs from the corner. It's only when his father's near non-existent breathing manages to reach him over the pounding in his ears that he stops. He nearly just killed his father. He can't ever recognize his father's face and there's glass and blood everywhere. He leaves after that, grabbing nothing by his cross, his Bible a friend had gifted him, and a photo of his old dog. He never returned and he never sought his family out again. He's grateful they never sought action against him, but he knows it's because they were scared. He was scared too, and every so often has a nightmare where he relives what he did.

He hates himself for it.

🌾 What would your OC be like if they were evil?

Usually this is a thought that I apply to my characters but I hadn't thought of anything for Scotty. To be completely honest, if he were ever to be "evil", I truly believe he'd resemble Shepherd to some degree. That kind of action derived from such a horrible moment in Shepherd's past is something that Scotty can understand. Your men, your people were killed. 30k of them with a nuke and the world just watched. That kinda shit changes you. If something similar happened to Scotty, I can see him feeling similarly. Now would be so exactly what shepherd did? I don't think so, but I wouldn't put it past him to kill anyone who got in his way or was responsible.

So I guess what I'm saying in regards to "what would they be like if they were evil?", is that he'd be angry. Full of rage and pain. He'd want to hurt those he deems responsible for whatever situation happens. There are a lot of different definitions for evil, but Scotty is definitely one of those "destroy the world to save who he loves" type of guys. He may not act like it, but there's a lot of darkness behind those eyes.

🌼 Describe one of yours OCs worst nightmares.

Well "worst nightmare" can be taken two ways, and as I accidentally got its meaning literally the first time, im gonna give two answers.

1. One of his worst nightmares is definitely losing the 141, specifically Soap as he's the one who saves Scotty and is like a big brother to him. (Though in some versions it's Price who saves him) But they're all his family. He loves Price, Soap, Gaz, Roach and Ghost. They're his people, his family. They're all he has and due to his past he does have recurring nightmares of them dying. He also has a massive fear of drowning, and before joining the 141 he would have dreams of drowning almost every night. Then he met his team and it slowly shifted to losing his team. He's forced to watch them die and then wakes up before he himself dies. These dreams slowly fade as he gets used to his team, and since he knows how capable they all are he doesn't have them as much. That's not saying he doesn't still have them though, multiple nights per week he still manages to have varying nightmares about losing them, and it just leaves him worn down.

2. The "Worst nightmare" in the non literal sense I guess, would still be very similar. Losing his team, or anyone he loves. He's always found it hard to connect, and that no one has ever really understood him. They find him weird, odd, reclusive. They question his scars, his often jittery nature and overall hyper vigilance. The 141 takes him in and he manages to relax a bit. He still maintains hyper vigilance, especially in precarious situations, but when it's just his team his much calmer. So his worst nightmare, both literal dream wise and reality wise, are losing the 141. His team, his family. He doesn't talk about it, feels it makes him weak, but they're his family. He's never had a proper family, they're the first one he's ever gotten to experience.

Thanks so much for these dude! I spent some time going over them, and idk if I'm 100% satisfied, but I really had to think on some of these because the questions had never occurred to me before. It was fun exploring more of my OCs background and lore. Scotty grows and grows. Thanks again!

#tokillamockingbird #oc questions #oc game #scotty macdonald #oc scotty

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azazraelz · 2 years

Text

Lucky Number Seven

Wooo first post! Anyways, I couldn’t find any fan fiction of Ghost x male reader that appealed to what I wanted and were long enough, so I’m making my own. Your name that your character goes by at first is Angel, you will find out why later in the story. This will be an ongoing fic so I’ll update as often as I can. This is an informational post as well as the start to the story. You join task force 141 at the beginning of the campaign. You are a special operations soldier from the marines, trained in hand to hand combat as a teen. This isn’t going to follow the story of the campaign though, rather some side missions and stories that aren’t in the game. People just call you Seven (that’s your code name). Every chapter will have a trigger warning pertaining to what shows, whether it be violence, cursing, anything along those lines. Darker topics will be in red. This is for male/masc readers only so please so she/her or she/theys interact with this. So anyways, on with the fic!!

TW: death, cursing, somewhat extreme(?) violence, suicide (not super detailed but still there)

Part 1

Always simple, stupid, too naive, that’s what they always said. My lack of street smarts always causes trouble for my adoptive family, yet they still love me. Though I don’t think this time they’re going to forgive my mistakes. I should have known to stay away from those men, the biggest gang in my small town of mostly Hispanic families, but I didn’t. I couldn’t tell! They were so kind, took me in and said they would protect me, for a cost. I said I couldn’t pay it and thanked them for the offer. They didn’t take it lightly.

The blood, there was so much blood. I never knew how much of it there was in his body. I didn’t realize how fast it flows, how hard it is to stop it once it starts to come out of places it shouldn’t. When he told me to come to his side, I didn’t know that would be where he says his last words. My brother, my favorite person, he died in my arms while telling ME everything is ok. I couldn’t do anything to stop it, the gunfire wouldn’t cease and I had no escape. I tried pulling him to safety before he passed, but was yanked away from him before I could start dragging him. The military. I screamed, cried, tried to pull away, anything to get back to my brothers body, I couldn’t just leave him there. Well they had other plans.

When I was finally safe, I couldn’t bring myself to return to my family. So I ran away. Spent my days hiding and keeping active, only traveling at night. Something changed in me that night, for the better. I became wiser, grew the fuck up and acted my age instead of the sheltered child I was. I turned to parties for entertainment and social time during the night, and eventually found an off the books job at the ripe age of 17. Then that’s when I met him, a marines recruiter. He told me to come to him when I’m 18 if I’m interested in joining, and that’s exactly what I did. My name is Angel, no longer is it y/n. I don my mask to hide my identity, and I put up my walls. Cliche? Maybe, but I refuse to let myself get close to anyone, because eventually they will die, and they will not be my problem.

“Angel…Soap, keep your head in the game, this is a capture or kill. We need Almagro alive for questioning but his gang will do anything for him, they will aim to kill. You have kill rights if need be, but avoid it if possible, now move.” Ghost’s commanding voice rips through the silence of the aircraft carrying the three men towards their destination, only stopping to let them out before taking off. The cover of night and the fog keep the aircraft out of sight, for now, but there’s no telling if that will be the case if they need air support. Angel follows behind Soap and Ghost, watching behind them through the thick fog to make sure no one sneaks up on them, only turning his attention away when his shoulder is grabbed by Soap.

“Be careful, these guys don’t mess around.” His thick accent making him slightly grin under his mask. Angel has been with task force 141 for about a month now and has gotten pretty close with Soap and Price, he even started getting to know Alejandro, bonding over their common knowledge of Spanish. The sound of the door creaking open pulls him away from his thoughts and he pulls his gun back up, being the first one to enter the building. It’s a warehouse but it feels like a maze with how much stuff it has in it.

“Take a look at this, drugs, guns, and money.” Angel points into a small room while whispering. He’s noticing everything is quiet, too quiet. That’s when he finds it. A room with four chairs in a circle facing each other, dripping with coagulated blood. The smell of iron is so strong it stings his eyes. He walks further into the dark room, his boots hitting against something soft on the floor, and when he looks down, his expression softens for only a moment. A body with a piece of paper on it. He looks back to see if Soap or Ghost are there before picking up the note.

“It’s all in Chinese, I don’t speak-“ A sharp pain in his spine causing Angel to let out a cry of pain before he’s yanked by his hair and tossed to the ground. He was kicked in the back by someone much stronger than he. He tries to shoot but the weapon is pulled out of his hands, luckily he took Ghost’s advice and carries multiple knives on him. The assailant gets on top of him, reaching for his throat, but Angel is faster. He grabs a knife and stabs it through the man’s hand before trying to shove him off, the man wailing in pain before walloping punch after punch onto Angel. He does his best to block them but a few connect with his face and ribs. An abrupt searing pain in his upper arm causes him to let out his own scream of pain which finally alerts his teammates. Ghost and Soap rush into the room, Ghost taking the man out with a M9 pistol before the two approach Angel who has sat up, holding his hand to the knife sticking out of his upper arm.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Let’s just check who that was and get out of here.” Angel says before yanking the knife out to the protests of his two teammates. Soap seems concerned but listens, checking out who the attacker was. Not Almagro. While Soap and Ghost discuss further plans, Angel wraps the wound up with a bandana he had in his pocket before standing up, stumbling. His vision fades out but he doesn’t collapse, he stays standing. Shaking it off, Angel walks with the two, scouring each room until they find who they were searching for, taking him into custody and escorting him back to the plane that brought them here. It’s still awfully quiet, but they aren’t going to complain if things are going right. Angel slowly trudges along, slowly falling behind the two. He’s lost a lot of blood already and is turning pale, but he continues on until they get back. Once they’re in the plane, he sits down and immediately loses consciousness, only rousing to the sound of the plane landing. Surprisingly, Ghost helps Angel up and brings him to the medic, but he doesn’t leave right away. Ghost stays in the doorway, watching, waiting, making sure everything goes right and only leaving when forcibly removed. Angel was too hopped up on painkillers to even notice the worried look in Ghosts eyes as he walked away.

#simon ghost riley x male reader

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crotchety-old-emu · 1 year

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What’s wip #3 about? 😁

thanks so much for the ask! <3

water out of wine is a stucky-fic that i started writing after i'd seen captain america: the winter soldier for about the 14th time (all of these viewings were at the cinema, by the way, i was OBSESSED). i've been working on it on and off ever since. i don't think of myself as a particularly gifted writer, but i am so, so proud of this story. it's one of the only ones i've ever written in which i truly feel i've got the characters down perfectly (natasha especially). i might be entirely wrong about that, but that's what it feels like, at least.

it was supposed to be about bucky figuring out how to be himself again, but somewhere along the way, it became a story about steve's OBVIOUS DEPRESSION THAT NO ONE IN THE MCU ACKNOWLEDGES. sadly, i'm not sure i'll ever finish it. because that's just the kind of writer i am, i'm afraid.

the first nine chapters (out of 31) are up on ao3, but about three-quarters of it is written. i'll share a scene from an unposted chapter, just because i like it and it sometimes makes me feel sad no one's ever read it. no one has to, of course, so it's under a cut.

'Don't -' she says hesitantly and rests a hand on his arm. It leaves a wet stain on his shirt, some soap bubbles stay behind when she pulls away. Steve stares at them for a second. 'Don't buy into everything he says, okay? It seems early days for you to trust him already.' 'He's trying, Nat,' he says, vowels clipped and short, and wishes he didn't feel anger boiling in the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t know why everyone who was at first warning him not to run is now telling him he has to keep his distance. He can do one or do the other, not both. 'Of course, he's going to have a couple of bad days every now and again, but at least he's trying. And it would be wrong for us to judge him for it.' 'Look, Steve, I'm just saying,' Natasha says, unimpressed. Her voice is soft, but she looks so fierce that Steve would have flinched if he didn’t know her so well. However, he can tell her anger from her protectiveness by now, and he knows this is the latter. 'As someone who's had pretty much the same training as him, I recognize the tools of the trade. Be careful.' 'I know. But HYDRA was messing with his head for far longer than we've been trying to put it right. It's gonna take time,' he says in his most reassuring voice. Natasha stares at him for a long time, she quirks one eyebrow but doesn't move otherwise. 'What?' he asks eventually. 'One of these days,' she says affectionately as she shakes her head, 'you will stop surprising me with how genuinely nice you are.' 'I thought it would take more to surprise you,' Steve tells her, corners of his mouth turning up. 'You keep thinking, buddy.' She smirks and gets started on the cutlery. Then she makes a sound of disgust. ‘I’ve always hated doing these. Why don’t you have a dishwasher like all normal people?’ ‘To me, this is normal,’ Steve replies. ‘Back in -’ ‘Don’t say it,’ Natasha says quickly, holding her index finger about an inch from his lips. ‘If I have to hear it one more time, I will smash all your plates.’ As if to demonstrate, she takes one off the drying rack and holds it out, ready to drop it to the floor. Steve laughs. ‘All right. We’ll just -’ He motions her over. ‘We’ll switch. I’ll do the forks.’ She gives him a grateful smile as she takes Steve’s towel, but it fades fast. She doesn’t look at him, and she’s quiet when she speaks again. She makes sure to appear more interested in trying to get a smudge off one of Steve’s saucers than the point she’s trying to make. ‘Nice people generally don't stay nice in this line of business.’ Steve wants to contradict her, tell her that he's been around for quite a while, and no one's told him he's changed for the worse yet. But she continues before he has the chance. 'When that happens to you, I will hunt down the person responsible for it and kill them. Even if it is James.' She puts the wet towel on his shoulder and pats it for good measure, even though the dishes are far from done. Steve can feel the clamminess of it sink through his shirt. ‘Be careful with him.’ And then she's gone. He thinks about her words for the rest of the evening. In the end, he believes that this is her way of letting him know she likes the way he is, and that she has his back. Still, he can't help but feel that escalated quickly.

#my writing #stucky #fic writing #answered asks

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lynnpaper · 3 years

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"shh, that's okay, get everything out" with Ahsoka and a character of your choice? I really love your writing!

😊💕

from these prompts

Ahsoka is quiet in the gunship as they fly back up to the Resolute. She is quiet as Anakin debriefs his men, weary faces and soot-stained helmets held under aching arms. She is quiet as she curls up on the floor in the bridge of the flagship, her back against the wall, hugging her knees to her chest as she holds her lightsabers so limply they could fall right out of her grip.

“Are you alright?” Anakin asks quietly, kneeling beside her.

She nods. She knows Anakin knows it’s a lie. He doesn’t call her out, and for that she is grateful. He doesn’t coax her to return to her quarters either, and for that she is grateful too.

When she opens her eyes again, there’s a heavy, warm robe draped over her shoulders and her lightsabers are gone. A burst of panic nearly compels her to look frantically to the side, but it immediately dissipates when she finds Anakin sitting beside her. On the floor. The floor of his flagship. The general of the 501st Legion, sitting beside his teenage padawan, on the floor of his own flagship. Her lightsabers are clipped to his belt.

She feels pathetic.

Anakin sits up straighter when he realises she’s awake, reaching out almost instinctively to tuck the robe under her chin where it had slipped down.

It must be his. He never wears it.

“Are you alright?” Anakin asks, for the second time.

Ahsoka nods mutely, lying again, for the second time. Anakin knows, yet he doesn’t say a word. She wonders why he even bothers asking.

The robe is warm and the ship is cold but her legs are stiff and sore. Ahsoka stretches them out painfully before staggering to her feet, bracing herself against the wall before her knees can buckle again.

Anakin holds out a hand to steady her. She doesn’t take it.

The robe is too long and drags on the ground behind her, but she’s cold and it smells like him and the familiarity of dry-soap-ozone-engine-grease keeps her grounded better than any words of reassurance will. So she bundles it up and folds the hem and wraps it around herself, tucking her hands into the folds. She can feel Anakin’s hand on her back, the gentle pressure urging her forward through the layers of fabric.

Anakin walks her back to his quarters, because there’s no way he’s going to send her to her own with no company. Ahsoka stares straight ahead, never meeting the smiles that the clones in the corridors give her, never returning the salutes they give their General. When she can no longer ignore them, she bows her head, and Anakin could have sworn she was counting the ridges on the floor if it wasn’t for the utter blankness of her gaze.

She will crack soon. He knows.

Anakin keys in the code for his quarters and the door slides open with a hiss. He enters first, waiting for Ahsoka to follow him, and she does—then stops. Stops just past the doorway, her boots planted into the hard ground, as if she can’t—won’t—take another step.

The door slides shut behind her, and Ahsoka crumples.

Anakin knows the mission was rough. He knows there isn’t always a half-hour post-battle grace period of adrenaline and harrowing relief, knows success is not measured by claps on the back and whispers of “well done” and seven new inside jokes for every bloody campaign. Sometimes the reality is this: numbness and denial, a reality check like a punch in the gut, knocking the wind right out of her, shoving her to the ground before she can take another breath.

But he doesn’t know how to deal with the helplessness that overtakes him as his padawan cries, hunched in on herself, her little shoulders shaking so hard and her arms wrapped around her stomach like she’s trying to make herself small enough to disappear.

Ahsoka takes a clumsy step back, falling against the door. A blurry peek through teary eyelashes gives her a chance to watch as the concern etched on her master’s face shifts into full-blown distress. She prays and prays and prays that the distress will not shift into pity.

Something warm and dark presses up against her cheek. Ahsoka blinks away her tears to find herself held by strong arms to Anakin’s front, the part of his chest usually covered in armour now covered in only his tunic. She can hear his heartbeat through her montrals, slow and steady despite the sorrow he must clearly be feeling.

Ahsoka wishes she could suppress the sobs that wrack her body non-stop, wishes she was more in control of her emotions—a proper Jedi and a proper commander, instead of a childish, sensitive padawan. She sobs, trembling uncontrollably, and there’s nothing to cry for but so much crushed beneath her chest that she has to has to has to let it out before it ruins her from the inside.

“Shh,” Anakin consoles her. “That’s okay. It’s okay. Get everything out.” He rubs her back in soothing circles, and Ahsoka knows she should feel guilty and ashamed and embarrassed and all the horrible, horrible emotions that usually come to plague her in moments like this, but all that remains in the space of her chest is hollowness.

She wants to pull away—needs to pull away—because this is no way to waste her master’s time after a mission. He needs to write reports and she needs to help in the hangar and he needs to tend to his troops and she needs to stay out of the way, at least for now. In her experience, grieving is sometimes best done alone.

“I couldn’t save them,” she whispers. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t save them.”

Keep the citizens safe, he’d yelled, then ran off to join Rex and the rest of the squadron, leaving her with a group of terrified innocents and an unfair task. But then the bombs started falling and people started dying right before her eyes, men and women and children younger than she was. She’d watched as families were torn apart, brothers and sisters rushing to their unmoving siblings only to fall under shattered glass and shrapnel, and all she could do was urge them away into shelter, forgetting so easily that she too could have been hit and killed in a heartbeat.

She hadn’t disobeyed. She’d tried so hard—

Anakin cradles her head to his chest, holds her tight, tight, tight. She clutches weakly at his tunic, desperate for something to hold onto before she’s swept away by the mess she’s made.

“It was an impossible order,” Anakin says quietly, guilt thick in his voice. “I’m sorry, Ahsoka. Nobody should have had to bear the burden that you did.”

The sweet, sweet relief of validation feels like the first touch of ice on a burn, the first drop of rain in a desert. A thousand different emotions rush out of her, first the fear and grief and regret, then the complicated combinations of self-doubt and guilt at her failure, scorn at the impossible task that had been placed on her shoulders, resentment for the two sides that simply do not stop fighting.

Anakin walks backward to the bunk, his grip never faltering, and Ahsoka staggers forward with him. He sits on the edge of the mattress, pulling her down to follow, and she shifts awkwardly to sit beside him, mourning the loss of warmth.

“Stay here for now, okay?” Anakin says softly. He slips an arm around her shoulders, tugging her to his side. His other hand comes up to join the first, smoothing out the robe wrapped rushedly around her body.

Ahsoka nods, trying to press herself even tighter against Anakin. He obliges, arms tightening just a little more.

She isn’t alone now.

Her head is clearer, the weight on her chest easing up.

Anakin is not angry. She failed, but Anakin is not angry.

“Are you alright?” Anakin asks. He will keep asking, she knows, until he is absolutely sure she is.

Ahsoka nods. Anakin does not have to ask anymore. Here, safe in his arms, it is the truth.

#lynn writes #my writing #snips and skyguy #angst #hurt/comfort #anakin and ahsoka #writing prompts #post-trauma sentence starters

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writings-of-a-hufflepuff · 3 years

Text

Pheromones

Fandom: Mass Effect

Collection/Series: N/A

Pairing: Selene Shepard x Garrus Vakarian

Writer: @writings-of-a-hufflepuff aka @hufflepuffing-all-day-long

Rating: T - Suggestive themes but nothing NSFW

Warnings: N/A? I think (if i’m wrong let me know!)

Summary: Selene’s a little confused about something Javik says to her, she naturally asks her Turian boyfriend about it.

Notes: Based off this conversation with Javik. I’ve never actually written Shakarian stuff in all my years of loving the ship. But, with Mass Effect: LE taking over my life, why not?

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“So...Javik said something really...weird when I went to see him earlier.”

It had been a long day; finding out Cerberus was turning people at Sanctuary into husks, seeing Miranda again, stopping her father from killing Oriana...it had taken a toll and then to come back and have a really bizarre conversation with their Prothean teammate? Well, Selene Shepard was glad to be back in a pair of yoga pants and a large jumper.

If Selene was completely honest with herself she was exhausted. The war was taking its toll on her, all the responsibility that lay on her shoulders only seemed to be lightened by the support of her team and most importantly, Garrus. Her cybernetics had been bright and bold across her skin as of late, a sure sign that she was running out of steam. Despite the exhaustion, Javik's words weighed on her mind, confusing, curious and just a reminder of how alien he really was.

Garrus came out of her, no, their shower, towel around his cowl, visor, no longer obscuring his face for once. God, it is so utterly domestic between the two of them now and something in her aches with the awareness that this might all be cut short, that domestic might never be a long term option for them. She hopes it will, hopes silently that they’ll get to retire somewhere, have a couple of kids, a varren or two, and life out their days into old age.

“Weird? Weird to humans or...just weird?” The dual tone of his voice rings with curiosity. It had taken her two whole years of missions with him for her to actually get a good grasp on his subharmonics and even now there were things her weak human ears couldn’t quite pick up on, or even hear at all.

She thought for a moment as Garrus sat down next to her on the bed, nuzzling his face between her shoulder and neck like he always did. It was something she’d taken as a turian sign of affection, the way his plates scratched at her skin and mandibles fluttered across her shoulder, she could only compare it to a human placing kisses down. A nuzzling that he never failed to do, whether they were standing and he had to bend over or they were sitting or lying down.

Leaning into him with her eyes closed, she traces a hand across the plates on the back of his neck. “I...think it's just weird? He said he could tell we were ‘joined’ because of my...pheromones…”

Garrus froze in his nuzzling, pulling back with his face plates drawn together, mandibles fluttering in confusion. “Well, yeah? I scent you all the time, been doing it since you agreed to be a one turian kind of woman. I thought...I mean I smell like you too…?”

“Scenting? I what?” Selene was decidedly confused, Garrus didn’t smell like her at all. In fact, the little scent that he had was of the more metallic and engine grease kind from spending all his time tinkering with things or modifying his sniper rifle. She certainly didn’t smell like him, not to her nose anyway.

She pressed her face into his cowl and took a big, over exaggerated sniff. Nothing. He didn’t even smell like her shampoo or the jasmine soap she’d managed to find on the Citadel. Just...Garrus.

Garrus chuckled, three fingered hand cupping her cheek, filed down talons grazing carefully across her skin to smooth out the furrow between her eyebrows.

“Oh, right, you humans and your terrible sense of smell. Cute.” His grin flared his mandibles out wide, sharp teeth on show in a display of good humour.

“Garrus!” He liked getting a rise out of her, enjoyed seeing the pale skin of her cheeks turn as red as a Palaven sunset, something Turians just could not do. It was always so distinctly human, glaringly alien, but adorable. Not that many people would describe the Commander Shepard as adorable, but most people weren’t in a committed relationship with her...or he hoped most people weren’t.

“Honey, it’s normal. We sleep together, we make love,” She groaned a little at the word choice as he returned to nuzzling underneath her neck, talons moving up and down her back in soothing motions, “we shower together, we go on every mission together, we spar together…” Selene can’t help the little moan that leaves her mouth as his breath warms across her skin before that tongue of his, blue and ridiculously dexterous, carves a path over her shoulder and up her throat, lingering on a spot behind her jaw that he knows all too well.

“And turians are kind of known for scenting their partners.”

“What does that even mean? Scenting? Like a cat? Are you marking your territory?” She’s never taken Garrus for being possessive, in fact, he was decidedly cool under pressure whenever someone decided to try it on with her. Occasionally he’d shift in a way that told people to back off, pressing his chest to her back, but that was only in instances where the person didn‘t know when to quit. Usually an overzealous asari or persistent human. The idea of him marking his territory, or even seeing her that way was kind of out of character to her, he just wasn’t like that. They were equals in everything they did. He was her person and she was his, one of them wasn’t more dominant in the relationship, they were partners.

“Yes and no. You're not my territory, honey, don’t get me wrong. I’m glad you're a one turian kind of woman, but I trust you and I know you can handle yourself. It’s a habit really, an instinct. I’m surprised you don’t know, you do it too.”

It’s a relief to hear him say that. While she finds Garrus ridiculously hot when he goes all bad boy vigilante turian on someone, the raw power he exudes is something else entirely, something different that starts a fire in her belly, she also doesn’t want to be seen as an object or possession.

“I do?” They’ve gravitated, as they always do, towards each other. Selene finds herself curled up in Garrus’ lap, arms wrapped around his cowl and nose pressed to the junction of his neck, pressing light little kisses there had become a favourite pastime of hers. Calming, soothing.

“Mmm...all the time, that little nuzzling thing you’re doing?” She pulls back, startled, eyebrows almost comically high and red still tinting her cheeks, “Yeah, I thought you were just a little possessive, but maybe this is one of those interspecies miscommunication things, huh?”

“I...oh.” She curls back into his neck, bashful in a way no one else sees. Garrus enjoys seeing her like this, out of her element but trusting, seeking comfort in him even as he’s the source of her embarrassment. Their relationship is unconventional and with it has come embarrassment and nerves from both sides, but it’s the trust in him, and his trust in her that’s made it work, that makes it worthwhile.

He runs his fingers through the red of her hair, the strands soft and silky, a sensation that he still finds fascinating all this time on and one that he knows she finds soothing. He can only compare it to how he feels when she caresses underneath his fringe.

“So is that why that C-Sec officer stopped flirting with me every chance he got?” She thinks of the dark brown turian, bright orange markings across his face. Before she’d seen Garrus again, before they’d rekindled their relationship, he’d been determined to flirt with her, no matter how many times she politely turned him down. He’d since stopped, his tone always overly polite and formal, nervous even. She’d assumed Bailey had given him a dressing down, but...maybe not.

“Mmm, probably.” His chest rumbles with the hum, soothing and deep, reverberations running through her, “Most turians aren’t going to flirt with a taken woman, ever seen two turians get into a proper fist fight? It’s more claws and teeth than anything else.” No turian wanted to get into a fight over someone they had a passing fancy for, that Garrus knew for a fact, best to leave someone alone if they were clearly in a relationship.

“Would you? If someone tried it on?” She’s curious, deeply so. Part of her wants to know he would, but part of her wants to know that he’d think about it, and take his time to decide if it was necessary. Garrus had always had a bit of a temper, quick and righteous and determined to put things right. But, he’d mellowed with age, with her nagging him and convincing him to spare people who’d wronged him and others. He was more calculating these days.

“Depends.” A hand falls to her waist, circles being rubbed into the skin underneath her jumper, absent minded and soothing as his blue eyes look to the skylight above her bed, staring out at the stars. Contemplating his next words.

“On?” She leans up to press a kiss underneath his chin, the soft exposed skin tempting her.

“Do you want me to? How badly are they trying to get into your pants? Are you in danger? Do you need me to? Is it someone I know and despise?” His voice rumbles in his throat, she feels the vibrations against her lips and ringing through her ears. That was something about being with a turian that she loved, the subharmonics were soothing to her ear, the rumble that always seemed to roll through his body was comforting. She wouldn’t call it a purr, mostly because Garrus would fix her with that look, narrowed eyes, mandibles drawn tight against his face. He’d probably go back to calibrating the guns for a week or two straight. God, she hated that.

“Are you telling me you wouldn’t fight for my honour?” She’s teasing him, but she can still feel him tense up. Her lack of subharmonics tended to confuse him whenever she joked and he couldn’t see her face.

Taking pity on him Selene pulls back so he can see the amused little smirk that tugs at the corner of her mouth, freckles scrunching up across her cheeks and nose.

“I...you’re messing with me aren’t you?” There’a a palpable sigh of relief from him as his shoulders relax and he rolls his neck before pinning her with a playful glare, huffing through his nose at her. He’s the only person she can truly be playful with and she knows he enjoys it, the closeness of their relationship isn’t lost on either of them. He makes her feel less tired, more alive, younger, even if it's for a brief moment before reality crashes back down again.

“Yeah, just a little, big guy.” She tugs his face down gently by a scarred mandible, he follows easily, putting himself in reach so that she can press a kiss to his cheek, across the blue colony markings that are oh so familiar to her. Affection with Garrus is easy: “I love you, but I don’t need you tearing someone’s throat out for me...unless it’s Kai Leng, you can tear his throat out.”

The assassin was a thorn in her side and she was close to snapping, her usual restraint and desire to talk things through was failing. She wouldn’t negotiate or talk with Kai Leng. If she finally got the chance...well, he probably wouldn’t be recognisable afterwards.

“Oh, I'm tempted, believe me. There’s nothing I'd like more than to put every ounce of my anger and hatred into beating Kai Leng into a bloody pulp. Buuuut, I think you deserve the satisfaction yourself.”

“I love you, you know that right? Even if I'm walking around stinking like a turian vigilante.” She caresses the lengths of his crest and underneath, scratching short nails against the soft skin there and the purr, because it is a purr, that rumbles from his chest is almost as satisfying as the thought of finally getting revenge on Kai Leng.

“Reaper Advisor actually.” He brushes his cheek against hers, hard plates brushing against soft skin, gently, not hard enough to chafe or rub. “I love you too, even if I'm walking around stinking like a self-sacrificing human spectre.”

#shakarian #selene shepard #selene shepard x garrus vakarian #female shepard x garrus vakarian #fem shep x garrus vakarian #shepard x garrus vakarian #garrus vakarian #mass effect

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miraculouscontent · 3 years

Text

Didn’t Need Burrow (May 3rd-May 22nd)

Anonymous said:

Don’t Need Burrow to know that Ladybug’s distrust of Volpina will be played off as though she was simply jealous of her because she thought she was going to steal Adrien/Chat, even though she didn’t like Chat! Oh, but she did, she didn’t know it yet. That’s why she kissed him in Dark Cupid!

Not like she didn’t have a bunch of other reasons to distrust Volpina.

(the show also does this a lot where Marinette has an extra reason on top of “““jealousy,”““ like in “Oni-Chan” where the thing she was concerned about actually ended up happening, but the fandom boils everything down to jealousy anyway)

Anonymous said:

Didn’t Need Burrow: Su Han will take the Miraculouses from all the girls because he thinks girls don’t have the “physical and mental fortitude” to be heroes, giving them tto guys instead. The girls will find out about each others’ identities and join in the battle to get their Miraculouses back without any powers, led by Marinette, despite the fact that the genre of Miraculous Ladybug is supposedly Magical GIRL and thus the girls being powerful should be a given

(there was another part to this but I didn’t get it all so I clipped this ask a bit so it could work alone)

tbh the true ending should just be Marinette and the girls kicking each misogynist to the curb without any powers, and Su-Han goes last.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Luka and Zoe, from their styles and hints like the ice cream Luka holds in Truth and the flower on her shirt.... I'm sure at this point the writers will either send him on a tour with Jagged, or make him Zoe's bf offscreen somehow... Also more torture for Mari mentally :)

Of course. :)

Gotta make sure Marinette doesn’t have any choice but Adrien. :)

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Zoe will be Adrien's new love interest because she's "very sweet". Mari will be okay with it because she feels the Guardian must be alone. (And she's still punishing herself for hurting Luka.) The New-Bee and Chat also bond, making her feel even more alone. (But now Lila can't claim she's jealous and her hold over the class is lessened as Zoe becomes more popular.)

I’m super not here for Marinette punishing herself (and the show possibly presenting it as her “growing up” and “doing the right thing”) and for Ladybug getting jealous over the playboy cat.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Prince Ali/Rose turns out to be endgame, while Rose/Juleka gets Lukanette'd -- their relationship happened mostly off-screen and we only see them pulling apart. Juleka has to let Rose go so she can live out 'every girl's dream', possibly even being put on a bus/written out of the series.

In which the Couffaines aren’t allowed nice things because they’re poor-coded.

Anonymous said:

I can’t believe the Pig’s weapon is ACTUALLY a tambourine. I’ve had that down as my guess for the pig miraculous for ages but I never thought I’d actually be right. On that note - Didn’t Need Burrow: the Ox’s weapon will definitely be a hammer, and the Goat’s might be a shepherd’s crook or grappling hook, and the Rooster’s could be a horn.

Congrats on being right!

We’ll definitely see on the whole weapons things.

Anonymous said:

Don't Need a Burrow: That Rose's mysterious sickness from "Guiltrip" episode will be ignored in other episodes.

Honestly, it was ignored in “Guiltrip” too. Rose’s illness seemed to be related to headaches and then they literally have her headbanging in her transformation.

Anonymous said:

Don't Need a Burrow: After "Guiltrip", the dynamics of Juleka and Rose's relationship will revert to the "romantic standing next to each other somewhere in the background".

Just look at them doing [friendly task]... romantically!!

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Tikki's comments about not really understanding love are later treated as her being in denial about her being in love with Plagg. Because the two of them are 'soulmates' *just like Adrien and Marinette*, and there's no such thing as a PLATONIC bond. Plus, it's denying another feminine-identifying character the right to define and declare her own feelings -- she's not ALLOWED to not love him that way! If she says otherwise, she's either in denial or mistaken! Or both!

[flashbacks to “Animan” where Alya denies feelings for Nino as being “like a brother to her” and then gets together with him at the end of the episode]

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: In the upcoming Mr. Pigeon episode, Chat Noir's behaviour toward Mr. Ramier in Lies will not be brought up at all.

Yeah, this is why I knew writing “Lying on the Job” was the right choice. :P The show wasn’t going to do it.

(part of me hopes that this acts as a jinx but I doubt it)

soap-lady said:

Didn't Need Burrow: It will be revealed Adrien always knew about Mari's crush. He tells Plagg it's because not only would rejecting a friend be hard, her akuma would be even scarier than her dad. He later admits at the end of the episode to Plagg that having an "awesome person like Marinette" crushing on him makes him feel good about himself. The show will frame this as charming rather than egotistical.

wow i hate it

throw the whole man away, Marinette

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: The "reverse love square" will happen as a result of Adrien being drunk on a love potion/under the control of a spell which makes him fall for Marinette. This will result in Marinette being uncomfortable with Adrien's relentless pursuit of her...AGAIN...which is, of course, played for laughs...AGAIN. Her friends will probably shame her, saying, "why are you so upset? You used to like Adrien and now he's returning that affection! What is WRONG with you, Marinette?". Meanwhile, during battle sequences Chat Noir will be less playful and intrusive of Ladybug's personal space because he's in love with Marinette now and not her, which is good(minus the"in love with Marinette" part, obvs), except that it will cause Ladybug to suddenly fall in love with the new Chat Noir who is being respectful(and "just like Adrien used to act"), and she'll act like a giddy schoolgirl over him, which will be used to humiliate her for comedy as Chat treats her like a freak now. And no, the show will NOT "call him out" for suddenly being averse to the affections of the "girl of his dreams" but will treat him as justified, because guys who pursue girls are gentlemanly and entitled to love back, while girls who pursue guys are pushy and obnoxious. There will even be a lesson on how you shouldn't have to put up with unwanted advances. Chat will be the one to learn it. There will also be a lesson on how you can't force someone to love somebody else. Adrien will be the one to learn it.

Wow, how’d you get the synopsis to Season 5? Impressive! (⊙o⊙)

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Chat will complain about Ladybug not trusting him, so she tries trusting him with further responsibilities which he then shirks, blows off and whines about. Naturally, Marinette is Wrong for DARING to think that her 'partner' should share more of the burden -- no, she HAS to carry everything herself and enable him to keep treating their duty as a game! It's not FAIR for her to expect anything more from him--!

oh my god

he would *gestures loudly to “Lies”*

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Chat Noir will *deliberately* mess up a vital task that Ladybug assigned/entrusted him with, either to punish her for some petty/imagined slight (which is treated as Incredibly Serious and Deserving his retaliation) or because he simply doesn't want to have to deal with the extra responsibility. Much like somebody who 'never learns' the right way to load a dishwasher/do laundry/other chores so that somebody more responsible is forced to pick up their slack.

Sounds about right.

“Bonus” if Chat Noir is presented as in the right because Ladybug’s task was “too difficult”/”she didn’t instruct him right”/”you can’t expect him to be perfect on his first try,” or Chat Noir’s shirking is treated as “payback” for something she did that he maybe doesn’t even know about.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Marinette gives up on becoming a fashion designer because her duties as Ladybug/Guardian take priority. Tikki protests not for Mari's sake, but because she enjoys her creative drive/justifies it as a form of honing Marinette's creativity. Thus the lesson is not that Marinette was Wrong because she deserves to have things that make her happy/goals outside of her duties, but because she can fold them into her Greater Purpose.

Miraculous: Tales of Marinette Not Being Allowed to Be Happy

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Chat Noir will be (temporarily) killed during one of his 'Pity/Praise Me!' stints, because he decides that he can't function without Ladybug kissing his ass and she's too busy fighting the akuma to coddle him. Naturally, this is presented as Marinette's F-Up of the Week that she must fix at all costs and apologize for, insisting once more that she 'can't do this without him' despite being constantly forced to do this without him.

It’s Ladybug’s fault that Chat keeps sacrificing himself, obviously! She’s just not telling him not to in the rIgHt wAy, and she should be

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Ladybug will finally learn the truth about how Theo was akumatized, but Chat Noir will insist that he didn't lie and that she really WAS to blame for it. And anyway, that was 'so long ago' that she's not allowed to be mad over it anymore. (Bonus: this or other episodes will have callbacks showing that Adrien is still salty over things like being 'stood up', with HIS frustration presented as perfectly valid, as there's no expiration date on HER screw-ups.)

[flashbacks to “Stormy Weather 2″ where Plagg retcons Ladybug’s avoidance of Chat’s date as her standing him up]

+ Yeah, I don’t see Adrien not having expiration dates on his mistakes, and his are always for the better (i.e: stealing the book in “Volpina,” which was wrong obviously, and then Marinette covered for him immediately to get him back into school).

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Chloe is given a 'redemption arc' after all... in the vein of her falling for Kim or some other male character and being convinced to change her ways for/by them. On top of being grossly sexist, this lets them slam Marinette even more, painting her as a failure who couldn't help Chloe despite that never being her responsibility in the first place.

“Bonus” if it’s Luka who does it.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Rather than confirming Juleka/Rose, CHLOE is officially revealed to be a closeted lesbian, retconning all of her bullying into the tried-and-trite 'They're only tormenting you because they LIIIIIKE you'. Bonus points if this is used to reinforce the notion that Chloe is irredeemable because 'Evil Jilted Lesbian can't be saved by Hetero LI'/she lied about crushing on Adrien/other toxic and heteronormative bullshit. AND her evilness is Mari's fault for not loving her back!

It’s always Marinette’s fault for not loving people back.

Also, this just reminds me of how much I hate the “lesbian bully” trope fdkjgdfgdfg.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Chat Noir throws another Pity Me Party in the middle of a fight; Ladybug is sniped by the akuma while scolding him to stop fooling around. Naturally, this is presented as HER fault for not immediately accommodating his demands for attention. After saving her, Chat mockingly echoes her words about concentrating and keeping her head in the game.

╰（‵□′）╯

EVERY TIME!!

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Chloe gets another chance at redemption by learning how to mimic Adrien/Lila and feign niceness. Whether or not her 'redemption' sticks depends upon her patience level; if she sticks to it and 'grows' into another Lila/holier-than-thou lecturer like Adrien, it's considered good (and Adrien gets full credit for helping her change 'for the better'), but if she goes back to being *openly* judgy and bitchy, it's another sign that she's 'irredeemable'.

Ugh, when Chloe’s options are either to be a Lila or an Adrien. All I feel is disgust.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: The Love Square is reversed when Adrien learns Ladybug's secret identity and decides to focus on pursuing her as Marinette. Mari is put off by his advances/still convinced that she can't HAVE a romantic relationship with all her other responsibilities, and is further distracted and concerned by Chat Noir growing distant (as he's bitter over his failures and taking it out on LB/holding a grudge after learning she confided in ALYA and not HIM).

i hate it

And of course the method of “now she’s not interested so I’M interested.”

Anonymous said:

Didnt Need to Burrow: Despite being 'twins' with Juleka, Luka will never show up in another episode. Ever. And the only mentions of him are only about the breakup. Even in Juleka-centric episodes, Luka will only be a passing mention. Oh, and Juleka will 100% stick to just mumbling outside of episodes where shes akumatized. Because gIrL poWeR

I’m honestly just--expecting Luka to have like one/two episodes, maybe to get a charm, and then he’s gone forever.

I don’t know if it’s a mercy or an insult, but the constant mentions of the break-up between Marinette and He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Outside-Of-Spiting-Him definitely are an insult.

Anonymous said:

Don't Need a Burrow: "Gigantitan <insert high number>" episode

ANYTHING BUT THAT.

Anonymous said:

Didn’t Need Burrow: Ladybug and Cat Noir will be able to power up in some way, but they have to form a special bond (this is implied to be a romantic bond). They use this power up to defeat Hawk Moth. bEcAusE tHe pOWeR oF “LoVe” cOnQUerS aLL! Bonus if the characters imply that Ladybug should’ve accepted his affections sooner (Adrien won’t be mentioned at all, i wonder why:p)

I’m cringing so hard right now. I hate everything about this because you sound so correct.

Anonymous said:

Don't Need a Burrow: Lila will be written out/ret-conned from a show because she was only a Unredeemed!Chloe stand-in for time of Chloe "redemption arc". Every speculation about Lila (next Hawkmoth etc) will be applied to Chloe instead as a "plot twist".

I’m half-expecting that she’ll get akumatized as a season finale bad guy, then just immediately move.

Anonymous said:

Didn't need Burrow: Alya is the one who comes up with the akuma repellent charms and Marinette is going to be jealous that Alya is so much a better guardian. Alya'll also probably be able to wrangle the kwamis better than Marinette.

Honestly I might as well just put this one on the card right now. :P

Anonymous said:

Didnt Need Burrow: When Ladybug tells Chat that she told somebody her secret identity, hes gonna be mad, talking about how she broke his trust and the show will portray it as her fault for breaking under the pressure of being guardian. Meanwhile the fandom is gonna be mad at Ladybug. Ignoring, of course, the entirety of the New York Special.

We could sum up the fandom card as just, “Adrien is right and a sad uwu sunshine child, Marinette is wrong and OP and doesn’t give Chat the respect he deserves.”

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Rose's 'mysterious illness' will naturally flare up during times where Pigella might have been useful, with Ladybug getting blamed for her flare-ups/worsening condition.

BANNED

I HATE IT DX

Anonymous said:

Didn’t Need Burrow: Building off of the “Adrien knows about Marinette’s crush and manipulated her for it”, any time Marinette does something Adrien doesn’t agree with or disagrees with Adrien himself, Adrien will play the cute, naïve, sad boi we all know and “love”, complete with Bambi eyes and gratuitous long eyelashes, forcing Marinette to give in to what he wants. This is treated as cute, quirky, and hilarious, never abusive, selfish, or misogynistic.

I mean, considering Chat Noir and “Chameleon,” yeah.

Anonymous said:

Don't Need a Burrow: a) Episode, where Chat Noir is even worse than in "Lies" b) Situation where Chat Noir during meeting with Ladybug is like always (M'lady, Bugaboo, unwanted psychical contact etc.) then Ladybug reveals that she recognized him as impostor because "real Chat Noir never will be so pushy" (bonus points if false Chat Noir is akumatized Felix) c) Writers somehow manage to put both above options in one episode (obviously with real Chat Noir being even worse than his impostor)

“Copycat” but worse

differenttriumphdragon said:

Didn't Need Burrow to somehow correctly predict Zoe's identity as a joke based solely on some blurry pictures and an offhand comment about "secret siblings". Like, a YEAR or two ago.

I’m guessing this is referring to the writers creating her?

Because yeah, probably.

Anonymous said:

Didn't need the Burrow: We will get Lukagami. One of the reasons will be the clash of the Tsurugi-Motto of "No Second Chances" and Luka's snake power of "Second Chance" resulting in some weird sparks flying.

*puts head into hands and groans loudly* kill meeeee

Anonymous said:

Don't Need a Burrow: The Multimouse!Mylene's model will be based on the Multimouse!Marinette's model (in the same way that the Rena Rogue's model is based on the Volpina's model)

plz no

plz

Anonymous said:

Didn't need burrow: Guilt trip hints at Adrien having actual depression, which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but knowing the show, two things will happen: 1. His depression will only exist to make people feel bad for him instead of exploring his mental state and seeing him working through it, and 2. his depression will be magically cured when the LS becomes canon because "true love heals all your mental issues".

All of the above, yes. :|

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Ladybug gets a fresh new look (for the sake of more Real-Life ML Merch), and Chat Noir gets sulky about it. Both because he didn't get an upgraded appearance at the exact same time (despite doing absolutely nothing to earn it), and because he didn't get any input on her new look. So he passive-aggressively complains about the change, saying he preferred 'classic Bugaboo', and Marinette is presented as Wrong for not letting him dictate her power or appearance.

*stares at “Mr. Pigeon 72″* I’m waiting.

Anonymous said:

Didn't need burrow: Imagine after you made that fic where Bustier and D'argencourt get the miraculous they reveal in the show that Bustier's husband/boyfriend/fiance is D'argencourt.

I WILL DIE.

OF LAUGHTER? OF PAIN???

THE ANSWER IS “YES.”

“Bonus” if it’s a DJWifi dynamic where Bustier can get D’Argencourt to do whatever she wants and suddenly becomes aggressive/upset when he doesn’t, which D’Argencourt immediately folds to (because the only “““girl power”““ the show knows is “lol girls are scary when they’re mad”).

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: The Love Square gets 'Reversed' via Alya deciding that Marinette MUST have a crush on Chat as well, since she personally ships LadyNoir. All insistence to the contrary is waved off as denial, and Alya is bound and determined to hook up her BFF with ONE of her crushes, come hell or high water. Thus, Mari gets shoved towards Chat in much the same way she's forced towards Adrien, creating much awkward hilarity at her expense.

Marinette’s entire being: i want to go home

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya learns about Marinette getting jilted by Chat Noir during 'Weredad', possibly from Tom and/or Sabine. She rubs this into Mari's face as proof positive that she really DOES have a thing for Chat, crowing about how she 'does her research' while teasing her about her awful luck with guys. This casual cruelty is 'balanced' by her insistence that she'll help her hook up with ONE of them by forcing her towards both.

Alya, looking at her plans and just shrugging: Hey, now her odds of getting a guy are doubled as far as I’m concerned.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya will insist that all of Marinette's romantic woes are her own fault due to her being interested in multiple guys. (Mainly meaning Adrien and Chat Noir; 50-50 on whether she acknowledges Luka's existence as more than just proof of her 'fickle heart'.) She 'supports' her by shoving her into humiliating scenarios with her love interests, blaming all her failures on her 'divided loyalties' and giving her grief for being a 'dirty two-timer' that can't even get off first base.

Yyyyup.

And of course Luka would only be mentioned to shade Marinette.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Tikki will keep nagging Marinette about her inability to solve her romantic woes until Mari snaps that Tikki doesn't know what she's talking about, throwing her own words about how kwami don't understand love back in her face. Naturally, this is Mari's Mistake Of The Week, as Tikki is driven to tears over the rebuke and all the other kwami get pissed off at Marinette for upsetting her, giving her grief until she apologizes. Tikki barely apologizes in return, if at all.

Ugh, I am just dreading an almost-inevitable “all the kwami are mad at Marinette” episode, since Marinette literally cannot escape from them since the Miracle Box is in her room.

Anonymous said:

(Mylene's personality anon) Don't Need a Burrow: Mylene's "Marinette's trait" will manifest in Multimouse!Mylene's introduction episode.

Mylene: Soon, I will have successfully swiped a personality trait from each of my friends to form one of my own.

Anonymous said:

Don't Need a Burrow: Characters who are popular fandom choices for alternate Miraculous Holders (Bee!Aurore, Fox!Lila, Cat!Felix etc) are akumatized into evil versions of Core Five Miraculous Team (Ladybug, Cat, Fox, Turtle and Bee)

Season 2462 finale.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: There will be more immediate self-contradictions, where Marinette is berated about how something she's doing/done is Wrong, badgered into following somebody else's 'good advice', and then promptly punished for doing so when the results blow up in her face. These turnarounds will become so fast that they happen within the same episode. Naturally, this is treated as entirely her fault.

At the rate her treatment is escalating, I would be 0% shocked. Still disappointed, but not shocked.

Anonymous said:

Don't Need a Burrow: It will turn out that the mysterious future Hawkmoth successor that Timetagger talked about is simply the Shadow Moth.

I laughed at this one so hard because it’s so accurate. I don’t know for sure if it’s a reference to the whole “new villain who’s been around since the beginning who just turned out to be Shadow Moth” thing but omg.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: The akuma-resisting pendants are used as an excuse to push Marinette even further past her breaking point, subjecting her to ever worse humiliations and traumas. If the fact that she basically NEEDS the pendant to survive is ever brought up, it's in a chiding way; obviously, as Ladybug, she needs to be mentally stronger than this and not rely on a 'crutch'. Nobody else is insulted for needed the pendants' protection.

Imagine the pendants as metaphors for medication and this takes on a whole new meaning.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: In a counterpart to "Chat Blanc", one episode visits a Bad Future where Marinette was akumatized. Naturally, this is depicted as entirely her fault, with both Maris being raked over the coals. No matter what the breaking point was, it's treated as though it was petty and pathetic for her to let it effect her so much. For bonus points, this was at a point after she got the pendant, but she accidentally ditches or pitches it while reacting to whatever broke her back.

Especially with the reveal of two new seasons, I’m very much expecting Marinette to get akumatized at some point.

“Bonus” for a “Miracle Queen” set-up where Adrien needs to wear the ladybug miraculous and is suddenly good at it despite being awful at it before, ala Snake Noir.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Marinette will wind up making most of the anti-akuma amulets. This is purely so that, when they inevitably fail, she can be blamed for it.

It’ll probably be like--Marinette needed to do something specific to make the pendants and they’re “only as strong as she is.”

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: The Love Square gets reversed when Alya decides she ships LadyNoir more than MariAdri, pushing her newfound agenda over her BFF's protests. Meanwhile, Adrien reveals that he knew all along about Marinette's crush, starting to pursue her because he just doesn't uNdErStAnD why she's pulling away, feeling entitled to having her chasing after him even if he never intends to actually reciprocate. Marinette is caught in the middle and blamed for all this drama.

Marinette, counting down the days where she can finally drink alcohol.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: One or some of Adrien/Chat Noir's past lies gets revealed to Marinette/Ladybug... for the sake of a moral about forgiveness and 'letting things go'. Meanwhile, he continues to grouse and hold grudges against Ladybug for her supposed slights against HIM without being seriously challenged.

I’m seething.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Marinette is shown a 'better world' wherein she never developed a crush on Adrien. In this 'better world', Ladybug and Chat Noir are romantic partners. Bonus points if this pushes forward the agenda of reversing the Love Square by getting Marinette to start seriously considering Chat as a potential love interest, treating this as her 'missing the point' of what she was shown... even if the goal was rather unclear beyond guilt-tripping her for having FEELINGS and DESIRES.

The true goal/moral is that Chat’s feelings are valid while Marinette’s are not.

Anonymous said:

Don't Need a Burrow: Hawkmoth will somehow get Black Cat Miraculous and attack as Moth / Cat Fusion (Cat Moth?). After defeating this form, Black Cat Miraculous will be taken from him and without any questions returned to Adrien. Whole thing will happen in one episode.

“Bonus” if Hawk Moth just stumbles upon the ring and doesn’t question it.

Anonymous said:

Didn’t Need Burrow: All Ladybug and Black Cat Holders are soulmates/ have gotten romantically involved. This gives Chat even MORE motivation to invade LB’s boundari-I MEAN to pursue her. Also, LB reacts in horror to this (who wouldn’t?) but its played for laughs.

At this point, I feel like this is the only way for them to push the love square as hard as possible. “Chemistry” has just flown out the window and they need a crutch.

Anonymous said:

Don't Need a Burrow: Reveal that Rose has rich parents because ML writers can't make sad blond(e) character who doesn't have rich parents (and also to increase the "You see! They love each other despite so many differences between them" factor of JuleRose)

Zag, “Stop Giving Rich Kids Sad Backstories” Challenge.

Part of me imagined an episode that just shipbaits JuleRose constantly, with Juleka constantly asking Luka and others advice on “getting closer to Rose,” which just ends up being Juleka asking Rose to be best friends.

#Didn't Need Burrow

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factual-fantasy · 4 years

Text

I got 25 asks that took me WAY too long to reply to! :}

I have two top favorite episodes, the cone snail episode and the beluga whales episode.

When it comes to my favorite part of both episodes..?

..Not happy parts...

I have absolutely no idea what you just suggested.

(Referring to this post)

Thank you! That was the intention. :} I was worried that their faces all looked weird..

You want to learn more? Man.. maybe I should post that headcannon draft..

Yeah haha, this blog has taken quite the U-turn hasn’t it? I’m just glad everyone seems okay with it so far. <:} I’m excited for season 5 also! I hope it comes out soon! :D

THANK YOU, I WILL CHERISH THIS LOVE YOU HAVE GIVEN ME FOREVER

Yes and no.

Does he think of his crew as children? Absolutely not. They are all fully grown, intelligent and capable adults, and he darn well treats them like it.

But you bet that if one of them is in danger or is frightened, he’s dropping everything he’s doing and rushing to their aid as if they’re his cub that just wondered out onto the highway.

ME TOO! I always felt like he had this fatherly vibe to him with some professionalism sprinkled on top. Like he’s always looking out for his team because he cares for them and worries about them, but its kind of disguised as him just doing his job as the Captain.

I plan to draw more Protective Barnacles because its my jam, so don’t worry! That side of you will have some more fuel soon XD. And thank you for all the compliments! :}

Daww thank you, it twaz nothin. I’m just glad that people want to see my art.

Well, taking everyone into consideration, the tallest is Captain Barnacles, and the shortest is Tomminow. (This little guy 👇)

The Vegimals aside though? Peso is the shortest.

(And thank you! I’m glad :})

Honestly? Awful. I feel like absolute garbage, I just hope this will all finally go away soon.

Not really no, and no thanks on the cookies, I shouldn’t eat anything until I get super hungry because everything gives me stomachaches.. But a hug would sure be nice right about now.

I can give you a link to their wiki pages if that’ll help, I’m not really good with my words and you can learn everything you need to know about them there. <:}

Captain Barnacles (The polar bear guy)

Kwazii (The orange pirate cat guy)

Peso (The bby Penguin doktor)

Shellington (Tall Otter boi)

Dashi (Doge girl with skirt)

Professor Inkling (Fancy squik)

Tweak (Green bunny country gal chick)

The Vegimals (Little veggie dudes)

All the Gups (Metal fishes)

The Octopod (Momma metal squik)

Whos the youngest Octonaut? Well, if we’re not including the Vegimals, I’d say its probably Peso. And the oldest is most likely Professor Inkling.

Does anyone have claustrophobia? Yes! Captain Barnacles canonically does. He got trapped in a deep hole in some icy caves as a cub, since then he’s been afraid of tight and closed in spaces. I have extended on that fact and thought of many different scenarios relating to the aftermath of the Octonauts movie, but you know.. still not confident in all this Octonauts stuff so I haven’t posted my headcannons yet. <:/

Novelas translated into English means Soap Opera.

You think so? I feel like that’s not Kwazii’s thing, he’d probably like horror movies and action filled movies. But Peso probably would like them not gonna lie, him and Dashi would probably watch them together.

Well, in my draft post I’ve got two headcannons for her so far.

Tweak likes sleeping in the launch bay for the #1 reason that she can hear the water sloshing around in the bay. Which mimics the sound the water in the swamp used to make when she lived there with her Dad.

Tweak gets bad migraines when she’s sick, so the other Octonauts have to do a lot to accommodate her. Because the beds in the med bay aren’t that soft, she prefers to sleep in her room when she’s sick. But then the usually comforting sounds of the water in the launch bay become pain inducing. So the launch bay is emptied of all its water, the lights are shut off and, unless its an emergency, no one is allowed in the launch bay until she recovers.

I looked it up, and its true.

KWAZII WAS A GIRL IN THE BOOKS?? THEN WHY IS HE A BOY IN THE SHOW?? WHY DID THEY CHANGE THAT?? WH??? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like this Kwazii more than I would any other version of him, but still, WHY’D THEY CHANGE THAT?? IM GLAD THEY DID BUT WHY??

Hmm.. let me think...

Captain Barnacles most likely doesn’t ever have uninterrupted free time, and even when he does, he probably still prefers to be up in HQ where anyone can find him if they need him. But lets say for the sake of it that he has some free time and he takes it. He’d probably either want to play his accordion, or want to read a book.

I feel like there’s a lot of different things Kwazii likes to do in his spare time, but goofing around in the Gup-B is probably his favorite.

Peso probably likes to do puzzles and play his xylophone.

Dashi probably reads books while listening to music. How she does both of these things at the same time I have no idea.

Tweak probably plays video games.

Professor Inkling and Shellington both probably read books in their free time.

I’m not too sure what the Vegimals would do in their free time though..

Oh yes, indeed it does.

Before becoming the Captain of the Octonauts, Barnacles had to ask himself, “Am I really ready to be their leader?” Can he handle managing a team of that size? Can he react to situations fast enough and make the right choices? He thought it through and believed that yes. He was ready.

But he wasn’t. He wasn't prepared for that gut wrenching anxiety when one crew member goes missing. He wasn't prepared for the crippling heat that most everywhere else has compared to his home. He wasn't prepared to become so attached to his crew that the thought of something happening to them keeps him awake for nights in a row. He wasn’t prepared for that overwhelming nausea of missing home and his sister.

There was a lot he didn’t know. They’d all turn to him when something went wrong and ask if everything's going to be okay. He’d say “don’t worry, its all going to be okay.” but he’s just as unsure as everyone else.

Now don't get me wrong, he’s not this completely hopeless and unexperienced Captain that bit off more than he could chew, no. There’s just somethings he didn’t think about before becoming Captain of the Octonauts.

Now usually he can really keep himself composed almost always. He’s very level headed and very good at thinking his way through things, But sometimes? He just.. needs a break. He usually cant get a break because he’s the Captain and always needs to be alert, so everyone else that sees it usually tries to help.

Some crew members, like the Vegimals and Kwazii, have a habit of following the Captain around when they see that he’s tired to keep an eye on him. Others like Shellington and Dashi tend to give him space and keep things quiet for him. Some crew members, like Peso and Tweak tend to clean up around the place to take some weight off the Captains shoulders, they all help him out in some way.

Professor Inkling will sometimes find an excuse to pull him aside to have some tea with him. They’ll sit and talk for a bit but then he’s back up on his feet and back to work. This poor bear..

..hold on.. was this a drawing suggestion?

Dashi and Tweak would probably hang out in Dashi’s room and goof around. Not sure what they’d do.. maybe read, talk, play games or.. idk pillow fights? I don’t know what girls do on a girls night.

As for everyone else? I also am not sure, I don’t know what all those characters with all their clashing personalities would do on a boys night. Maybe they would all watch a movie? All attempt bake something obnoxious together? They seem like the kind of characters that would do that.

I’ve never been to a girls night or a guys night, so I don't really have much of a base to go off of.. but both groups would probably get together and do something they’d all enjoy. Guys maybe a funny movie, and the girls just talking and reading books? <:D

For real that’d be hilarious. Imagine if their voices were deep and gruff too but they just make them sound high pitched for fun?

Dude that’d be so funny. Like Kwazii’s up to his shenanigans again blabbering on about some sea monster or what have you, and Tunip out of nowhere just goes,

“Kwazii legit stop, we all know that you’re just talking about some ordinary sea creature that pirates interpreted as a sea monster.“

The whole crew gon be like

If this game existed in their world and they all played it.....

Captain Barnacles would make it through a pacifist run and would be satisfied. He’s some kind of weirdo who doesn’t think of characters as real people and doesn’t obsess over them and cry about them. Overall he thinks the game is pretty neat, but probably not his type of game.

Kwazii would want to test his skills by attempting a genocide, but his heart of gold would get in the way and he wouldn’t be able to complete it. He’d feel terrible for killing goat mom, reset and go hard pacifist next round. Overall he thinks the game is awesome.

Peso would want to talk to every character so they’d all be included in the story. He’d go full pacifist and cry over the story and its characters. Overall 10/10 for him.

Dashi would probably cry over the game a lot and would never attempt a genocide run because the characters are now her family.

Shellington would hate the fighting parts so would delay those bits by walking around and talking to characters over and over again.

Tweak would go through a neutral run because she sometimes accidently kills weaker monsters. Overall she loves the story and its characters, 10/10 would play again.

Professor Inkling would become invested in the story I bet. Complimenting the story arcs for the characters and its creative game play. But I feel like he’d only play it once and probably wouldn’t beat it, but would have fun with it none the less.

Thank you!!!♡♡♡ Man, I never expected such a positive response to switching to Octonauts, I cant believe everyone is so excited about it! I’m so glad you like my Octonauts art, that really makes me feel better and like what I’m drawing is worth while. ɷ◡ɷ

Aww I’m glad! And oh yeah, the animals at the end were always scary. Remember the Boo the spookfish?

Boo was a cute little googly eyed fishy boi who was just so sweet and somft until the creATURE REPORT AND I-

THAT’S MY QUE TO YEET THE COMPUTER

Dawww thank you!! I tried. <:}

#octonauts #my response #octonauts headcannons #octonauts spoilers

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the-crows-typist · 4 years

Text

Time for the 3rd installment of our Valentine’s Event with none other than, Vil Schoenheit and the word: Kiss requested by @twstdaydreamer This was very fun to write and I hope all of you enjoy this as much as I did.

CW: Alternate Universe: Cinderella and The Beast, OOC, Dark past, and discussion of the death of a loved one.

This ficlet features characters singing certain songs so links will be provided for added experience.

While some lyrics are gendered, the reader still remains gender-neutral.

Word count: 7843

Other works: Chocolate Feat. Jade, Cards Feat. Floyd

A Heart from Me to You

There once was a house as beautiful as those who lived in it. Its Lord and Lady produced a beautiful heir who, at a young age, strived for beauty unequaled to anyone in the mortal plane but at the price of the beauty of his own heart. One day, an old woman with a face aged approached the manor to seek shelter from the blistering snow…Only to be turned away with looks of disgust. This angered the lady, removing her form to reveal herself as a powerful goddess who cursed all who lived in that house with an enchanted rose.

This selfishness was what brought upon the family’s curse that when night fell should the family follow. The beautiful boy suffered from the curse the most, in his transformation did he end up killing those loved.

Now, cursed and alone, the beautiful boy lived in a husk of his own home waiting the days for the earth to take him whole.

“How tragic.” You whisper, sitting by the fire with a book on your lap. You enjoyed break times by the fire and being able to read by your lonesome especially when the winters became bitter in Pyroxene. You closed the book just as the head maid came in.

“Oh look at you, you’ve got cinder marks in your uniform. Come here. You must be careful, dear. The cinder marks are harder to wash off than you think.” She said and wiping the still fresh marks off your sleeves. “It was getting cold,” You explained. “But I’ll be careful next time, I promise.”

“Please and thank you.” She smiled at you the way a mother would to her child. “Come along, Vil will be coming home soon. We should go ahead and greet him.” You follow her towards the door just as you thought about Vil. His father was a famous actor that traveled but it wasn’t often that the two of them were in the same house at the same time.

“Welcome back, Vil.” Said the maid and you, bowing your head. “How was the trip?

Vil Schoenheit stood before you, his winter coat shining with fresh snowflakes and noise a sore red. “It went as it should. May I ask for some hot tea with honey?” You could hear the pulled-back shiver in his voice. “Bring it to me in the bath.” His footsteps were quick even in those high-heeled shoes.

“Can I leave it to you?” The head maid asked. “I still need to finish cooking dinner.”

You nod your head and smoothing out your uniform, ready to take on another task as well as the scrutinizing eye of one Vil Schoenheit.

Three knocks on the door and Vil halted in his actions. “Come in.” You opened the door, pushing the tray carrying tea and small biscuits carefully into the warm room. Vil had already exited the tub and dressed in a robe. Just as you had been taught, you poured a cup of tea mixed with honey and presented it to him.

“Thank you.”

Vil was a beautiful being, he really was. The way his body was sculpted and toned made you think he was carved out of fine marble by the finest artisans. His gaze towards you made you realized you were staring too long. “I-I’ll be on my way, Mister Vil. Please enjoy the night.”

“You’re the new one here, aren’t you?”

Vil set down the cup and stood up, the robe seemed to act like a flowing dress that flowed at the floor as he drew closer and closer to you. “I believe you’re the one whose mother passed last autumn.” You nodded your head with a sigh, remembering the stressful days after your mother was laid to rest.

Times were hard for you and your family, after the sudden passing of your mother, all of you had to make ends meet whenever and wherever possible. Your step-father, Mozus Trein, got a position as a professor in a known school while your step-brothers, Angelo and Donovan, set for the Rose Kingdom.

Angelo became a baker’s apprentice while Donovan became a tailor for an apparel shop. You stayed behind in Pyroxene, snagging yourself as a position as part of the staff of the well-known Schoenheit family. While the pay was good, appearances needed to be kept at all times thus why the head maid was often uppity with you especially on your first days.

“Yes.”

“I offer my condolences to you and your family.”

“Thank you…” You say and you look down at your shoes, your chest feeling heavy and empty at the same time. “But the tears have already been shed. All I want to do now is take care of my father and help my brothers.”

There was a smile on his face and he reached over, patting your shoulder with a damp hand. Up close he smelled of clean soap with a hint of citrus. “You have a strong foundation to keep yourself stable. That’s what I want in the people who work here.” He pats your shoulder again with eyes of judgment. “But these marks on your uniform…”

Ah, crap.

“I stay by the fire during my break times.” You admit quickly and Vil only shakes his head. “It would do you good to stay further away. These cinder marks are unsightly.”

“I will keep that in mind, sir.”

He pulled back his arms and turned around as you were about to take your leave. “By the way, I would like to reiterate something while you’re here because I know the other staff will neglect to tell you this one important detail.”

The mirror before him reflected his serious expression, you gulped feeling as if you broke a rule. “When the sun begins to set. Don’t go to the second floor.”

“What’s so special about the second floor?”

All of you ate on a table, the head maid serving up some warm cream stew. “Ah, that.” You gave your bowl to ask for seconds and she much obliged you. The old lady smiled to herself. “Nighttime is the only time Vil can rest,” She explained. “He’s quite the light sleeper so even the softest of sounds will wake him up.”

The look in her eyes was distant and smile knowing as she handed the bowl back to you. “Do you need anything else? We still have some sweet corn and roasted chicken,” she asked, pushing some more food for you to take. You sip at the hot morsel of food after shaking your head. “No, I’m fine.”

The howling winter winds that rattled your window was something you could never shut out of your mind. For as long as you could remember, you had always sought refuge in the beds of your family whether it be your annoyed yet caring brothers or the understanding tiredness of your parents.

Your mother was the best at calming you, though. She always knew exactly what to do…She was your first teacher, your first friend, your primary protector after the split and she became all the more lively after meeting Mozus, your step-father. And while life adjusted itself perfectly for you and your new family, it didn’t hesitate to strike tragedy at the calmest of times.

Your mother, after all the years she had been fighting and keeping her sickness at bay, succumbed one day in front of your step-father. Even with all the magic remedies and medicines in the world to keep her alive, there was no reversing what had already been done.

“I love you.” She said on her death bed, Trein’s hand never leaving his wife’s. “I love all of you very much. I’m sorry I had to leave so early.”

You and your brothers dealt with the grief differently, all three of them going off to their little corners for days and never showing their faces to you. It was days after the funeral when you saw your father cry, holding a picture of your mother close to his chest.

Since then, you and your brothers always needed to remind each other that they needed to be strong for their father’s sake. Angelo and Donovan spared no time in snatching every opportunity that they could while you stayed behind.

Vil’s words to you repeated like a record in your head, reminding you of how he viewed you. “You have a strong foundation to keep yourself stable.” The winds rattled and you brought your knees to your chest. Was your resolve, your foundation as strong as Vil saw??

Cutlery colliding against each other broke you out of your thoughts and startling you back to reality. Slipping out of bed and into your shoes, you made your way into the kitchen with your hands holding your coat tightly for warmth. The plates clattered amongst themselves and you hear the tap opening and closing.

You listen in the dark, waiting for the next noises. The footsteps were erratic and almost cobbled, the clicking of plates loud and sudden as if something was trying to walk. Had someone tried to break in? You hear the door to the living room open and shut and you poise yourself to follow but grabbing a nearby frying pan to defend yourself.

Opening the door, you hear the pair of footsteps climb up the stairs and you begin to panic. Vil’s room was up there! Whoever it was, was targeting Vil. Your movements hesitated, remembering the rule Vil himself told you.

“When the sun begins to set. Don’t go to the second floor.”

The dead of night had already come and everything around you was dark save for the lamps that provided little help in the snowstorm. You hesitated to move, weighing the options and their potential consequences. Should you stay and let Vil rest knowing a thief was roaming the halls or should you break the rules and protect him with all you had?

You bolted up the stairs without a second thought and the frying pan clutched tight, panting as you got to the top and looking wildly and trying to listen for the familiar intermittent footsteps. You turn to your side with you hear another door opening and closing and suddenly all the lessons you’ve learned grappling with your stepbrothers come back to you in a flash.

You inch towards the room in the door, turning the knob to open the door with a soft creek that makes your insides cringe. In the middle of the room was a floating flower protected by a glass dome, it was red-pink petals shimmering and lightings its vicinity in the same color.

It was mesmerizing to look at.

Setting the pan down to your side, you walked towards it with your hand stretching out to touch the dome that protected it. You dropped the pan entirely to take the dome off the rose, its glow, even more, hypnotizing up close. Just as your finger touched its soft petals, the window to your side blew open in a torrent of cold wind and unfurling the curtains that moved like the waves of a dark sea.

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.”

From the darkness within the room, a pair of purple orbs glowed and a growl preceded a warning voice. The intermittent footsteps of a convulsing mannequin were not far off and its happy face brought a lick of terror to your heart.

The creature of the night crawled forwards, its sharp teeth jutting out of its mouth and form menacing and mangled. The windows were soon closed and the curtains dropped to the ground with your foot stepping on the soft fabric.

“Give me the dome.” The monster’s long claws reached out for you and before you stepped back, you slipped; hitting your head on the soft material behind you, the howling winds and the piercing orbs fading to black.

“…I told you not to come in here.”

You stood by the door of your step-father’s study with eyes facing the floor. Angelo and Donovan standing on either side of you. The yellow light gave off a sleepy and exhausted feeling in the realm of books and writing materials. In the very center was a diorama of your family, toys he wanted to surprise the kids with.

And now, the surprise was ruined.

You could feel shame boil in you, it had been only a few months since your mother remarried and you had new brothers to play with…And now your new dad was upset with you. “Come here.” He said, the man suddenly on one knee, your brothers coming over to him in a hug and you followed soon after.

“All of you, such curious little mice.” He said, patting each one of you on the back. “Next time, I want you to ask for permission before you enter the study, alright?” There was a laugh behind you, your mother smiling to herself while she leaned against the doorframe with a blanket over her shoulders. She never got used to the cold she was born in.

“Promise me that.”

“Yes, daddy.” All the children say.

And as you relished the warmth of your new father, something wet trickled down your cheek. Your brother, Angelo, was always the sensitive one of your step-siblings and would not hesitate to stop the sibling tomfoolery the moment things go awry. He held you close, his tears accidentally running down your cheek when you moved, while Donovan sat in the corner with shoulders hunched over. What was once your father’s sleepy study was now the empty hallway of a hospital.

The wind rattled against the windows of the hospital, your mother had succumbed to the sickness on a cold day. And your father was getting everything ready for the eventual end.

“Kids.”

Trein came out of the room, looking older than you remembered. “Your mother would like to talk to you.”

When you turned away from your brother’s embrace, you were seated on the side of your mother’s bed. Her body was sickly and the cold messed with what life remained in her. She smiled at all of you and your eyes began to sting.

“I love you.” She says, her eyes looking so tired. “I love you all very much.” And soon the tears began to fall from her face. I’m sorry I had to leave so early.” You blinked at the hand you held, your mother’s hand soon replaced with Donovan’s as he pulled you from your seat. In his suit, he looked more solemn and his usually long and wild hair was tied back with a ribbon.

“Let’s say goodbye.” He told you and tugged you to the coffin where your mother laid. “Where’s dad?” You turned your head, your hand now vacant and the space behind you a void of nothingness. The door of your father’s study slightly ajar and the familiar yellow light spilling through.

Your steps were echoed and slow, approaching the room slowly. When you were by the door, you peaked through the cracks; your father kneeling on the carpet and holding a figure to his chest. The diorama you once played with in your youth was set up on his table, your mother’s figurine nowhere in sight. There was a held back sob, Trein’s body shaking under his mourning robes.

You took a step back, letting him grieve in his own time.

You knew better than to come in there without permission.

You woke up with a start and a sudden sting to the back of your head. Above you was a chandelier you had no memory of seeing in your quarters and a bed your hands never recognized. Your chest heaved when you pushed yourself up the bed only to be pushed down by the head maid.

“Stay down.” She says, holding your shoulders. The light of the new day filtered through the large window of Vil’s room. Vil stood by the rose with his back facing you, holding the dome to himself just as your breathing leveled and normalized. “You hit your head pretty bad last night,” She explained and felt for the bump that made you hiss.

Last night…

“Was last night real?” You asked, your sudden burst of energy was off-putting especially when you remembered the events leading to the memories you wished to never relish again. “That rose. Was it really glowing? A-and that monster—!”

The dome was placed onto the rose with a loud clack, the glass roughly hitting the marble surface. “T-that’s beside the point!” The maid scolded. “Vil warned you never go to the second floor after the sunsets! Not only did you disobey one of the rules given to you, you hit your head while doing so.”

You bit back a hiss of guilt and opened your mouth to try to retort at your apparent rebellion.

“Elena.”

Vil’s voice was soft yet strict, eyes calm yet sharp. He regarded you for a moment while leaning against the marble table. “Let them be for the day, they’ve hit their head too hard.” You felt yourself shrink under his gaze. “See to it that they have little heavy activities as possible and prioritize that the bump is given care immediately.”

Elena bowed her head, her upset anger still very much apparent.

“Yes, sir.”

Elena’s nimble hands making quick work of dirty dishes. Your head had been bandaged with a compress pressed to where you hit your head. You stared at your meal with little appetite before poking at the grilled fish. “Miss Elena, why does that rose glow?”

The clattering of cutlery stopped and the head maid only sighed, shaking his head. “Always the curious one, aren’t you?” She turned around, leaning against the sink with arms crossed. “That’s one of Vil’s most treasured possessions. An heirloom that came directly from his grandfather then to his father then to him.”

Elena’s eyes looked to the side as if to remember. “I should know. I was there for every passing down. Vil is highly protective of it.”

It might have just been a coincidence, you thought to yourself, that the story you read by the fire had mentioned a rose but that was all there was to it. You ate your breakfast quicker after that. “I’m sorry for my behavior.”

“Next time, listen to your instructions.” She said, taking the plates from you before you could even move an inch to help her.

The feather duster slid against the books, your toes tipping to reach up for the shelves above your head. From there, you took your damp rag and swiped it across the polished wooden table. Yup, this was pretty much not so labor-intensive but it would get painfully boring unless you had some entertainment to go with you so you sang a small song taught to you in your youth.

“A dream is a wish your heart makes when you’re fast asleep.” Your mother loved to sing this song to you and soon, to your new family. Trein especially loved it when they danced together in the living room when the children were ‘seemingly’ asleep. “In dreams, you will lose your heartaches. Whatever you wish for, you keep.” You closed your eyes, feeling the memories of the past come with the melody of your song. You remember the first time you snuck out of bed with your brothers to see your parents slow dancing together. “Have faith in your dreams and someday your rainbow will come smiling through.”

You’ve never seen your mother smile so peacefully nor did you ever see her hug someone so intimately before Trein, in fact, you’ve never seen her do any of those things with your old dad. She was happy. “No matter how your heart is grieving...”

You only wished to see that happiness last longer than it should have. If only things stayed the way they did. “If you keep on believing…”

You envisioned your mother holding you close, singing to you one last time. Just like how she did when could still hold you to your chest. Just one last time…

“The dream that you wish…will come true.”

Sighing, you leaned against your broom saddened by what you made yourself remember. “Oh, I’ll never get my work done at this rate.” You say, taking your equipment with you and almost running out the library with a huff. Next to the fireplace, Vil lay on one of the long couches away from sight. It was only when you went out that he rose from his seat and hunched forward to let his hair cover his face.

He stayed silent, relishing the sound of your voice in his head.

During your break time, you decided to stay outside with a group of mice that decided to keep you company. You never understood why but the small animals around your area always seemed to be kind and almost human-like. When one mouse decided to sit by you while nibbling a small piece of leftover cookies did you begin to speak your thoughts.

“Is there something being hidden from me? Or am I being too nosey?”

One mouse approached you, listening to you at your feet. “I know last night wasn’t a dream, I know what I saw.” You say then feeling for the bump on his head. “It was real, I just know it.” There was a small squeak, one of the female mice touched your hand with her small paw as if to say words of reminder.

‘You’re stressing yourself out.’

Grimacing, you pushed yourself up and patting your uniform off the crumbs and dust. “I know.” You tell them and the mice look up to you in curiosity and concern in their beady little eyes. “I’ll be fine, don’t you worry. I’m a strong mouse just like you! I’m sure I can get to the bottom of this, I just…Need to find a better opportunity.”

The mice squeak in affirmation which makes you giggle. “Ahah, I’ll have to figure it out as I go along.” You tell them and look to the house, knowing that you had to get back in quickly. “I should get going, I’ll come back with some good food tomorrow.” You wave at the mice who give sounds of greeting as you leave.

What you saw on the second floor was real. You know it is. And you were going to prove it. You stopped by one of the mirrors, fixing your appearance quickly. “Huh?” Your hand touches the surface, small cracks brushed by your tips as if someone had driven something sharp into it. Looking up at the sky, you smelled frost in the air. Strong winds would accompany the night again, it seems.

The accompanying snowstorm was as fitting as it ever gave you a feeling of stealth. You always wanted to be a kind of spy when you were younger and here you are living the dream, though some nice gear and some goggles would have helped greatly. The wind blows and rattles the windows harshly when you brought yourself up the stairs.

“Tale as old as time, true as it can be. Barely even friends then somebody bends unexpectedly.”

You walk to the door you saw the beast. Placing a hand on the door to listen. “Just a little change. Small, to say the least. Both a little scared Neither one prepared. Beauty and The Beasy” Hesitantly, you open to turn the door to hear more of the beautiful voice. The room was dark and only the glowing rose giving light to the room around it.

“Ever just the same, ever a surprise,”

A mannequin hunches over a familiar huddle of fur and purple light. The movements of both almost unearthly yet the voice passionate and real…And so familiar. “Ever as before and ever just as sure as the sun will rise.”

The winds rattle harshly again and the beast bundles into a ball in Vil’s bed, the mannequin’s hands shakenly placing its hand on the shivering being. “Tale as old as time, tune as old as song. Bittersweet and strange, finding you can change; learning you were wrong.”

You open the door a little wider and watch the scene unfold. Somehow, it wasn’t your place to interfere at such a moment so vulnerable. “Certain as the sun rising in the east, tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme. Beauty and the Beast ”

The shaking beast’s form calmed itself and the mannequin leaned down, its monotonous face pressing against the mass of fur. A kiss goodnight. The cold of the wind blew through, the mannequin looking at you with its painted eyes. The silence was light and your eyes never leaving each other. Taking a step back, you pulled the door with you until it was shut. Everything was finally coming together.

Vil was the beast.

Breakfast was quiet and the wraps on your head were taken off. Elena made no move or sound to acknowledge you as you ate. “So the beautiful boy cursed by the goddess.” You could hear her hand grip the wet plates tightly and you knew what was coming but, at this point, you didn’t care if you got scolded. “It was Vil, wasn’t it?”

“You were given specific instructions never to go up there at night.” She said sternly.

“It’s him, wasn’t it?” You press again.

“Why are you so pressed on this? What good will it do for you?”

“The mannequin was you, wasn’t it? You were singing to that beast.” Elena fuming, slammed her hand onto the table and that was what made you pull back. “Don’t call him that.” She says and sighs, pulling away from you and straightening her back. “The next time I see you on the second floor, you are out of this house. Do you understand me?”

She takes your empty plates and splashes them into the water. Her breath was harsh and her skin almost sickly looking. A cough leaves her lips and her shoulders shiver. “Would you like some tea?” You ask softly and her shoulders hunch over.

“Yes, dear. Please.”

Just as you took the teapot from the cabinet, she spoke to you again. “Please follow that rule this time. Don’t make this harder for Vil than it has to be.”

You open the kettle and reach for the leaves, hearing the old lady cough.

You were back in the library before the sun began to set and adding wood into the fire for warmth. The snowstorm hadn’t let up since the last night and you were afraid that your quarters was not enough to warm you through the night. Using the heating pair of tongs, you adjust the wood in a way that it would burn properly and not caring if the cinders would cling to your uniform.

During the coldest of nights, you and your mother would love to cuddle by the fire and sleep until the morning. It only became a festive event with the addition of your brothers and your father. She loved the heat, the sleeping feeling it gave her and she loved it the most when Trein held her close.

Your shoulders sag, that was probably the only time you’ve ever seen him at peace. After that…Shaking your head, you push those memories away. You had to be strong, you had to be for the sake of your family. Reaching up, you swat the tears from your face. Your tears had already been wept the day she was buried.

“Stay too close to the fire and your uniform will get singed.”

Vil stood behind the couch, a warm blanket over his shoulders and hair despite being messy made him look immaculate. “I have a request.”

“What is it?”

“You can sing, correct? And sing well.” Ah, you’re not sure if you could answer that one wholeheartedly. Gulping, you nod your head. “I can sing, yes, but well, not really—.” Vil’s huff was hard and eyebrows furrowed. “Do not hide what good you have. It will not grow unless you expose it.”

“O-of course.” You nod your head and Vil closes his eyes. You noticed bags, his skin slightly paled. “Are you here because of the storm, Vil?” Nodding his head, Vil sank down next to you with a sigh. “The windows become too loud at night…I don’t like the sound of it.”

“I understand. I’m not much a fan of it myself.”

“We’re veering off-topic.” He looks to you, “Can you sing for me? At least for a moment.” The windows rattle and he closes his eyes again. You move, patting your lap for him to rest on and he gives you a look. “My mother used to do this to me. It beats having to lay down on flat ground.”

He is hesitant at first but follows after a few minutes of pondering. He lays on your lap, getting himself comfortable and you adjust the blanket on top of him. “Any requests?”

“Anything that will help me sleep.”

The winds rattle and his shoulders hunch. “Alright.”

“Oh, sing sweet nightingale. Sing sweet nightingale high above me.”

Vil’s eyes open ever so slightly, his violet eyes staring in the fire. Any moment, he would transform into the beast of the night. A curse passed down from generation to the next and yet, you stayed to sing. “Sing sweet nightingale, sing sweet nightingale high above.”

Elena had not been feeling well recently, her old age and the blistering cold made for one bad fever that she needed rest for. And while Vil was understanding of that, the winds that rattled the windows never ceased to let him sleep.

“Oh, sing sweet nightingale, sing sweet nightingale.”

But that soon changed when he heard you sing in this very library. It reminded him of the soft coo of a dove and the warmth of a wool blanket. “Oh, sing sweet nightingale sing…” His eyes felt heavy and soon his body became weightless, he yearned for the days he could walk out in the sun without fear of the night that was to come.

He yearned for the day he would no longer be afraid…

He yearned deep within his heart.

“Sing sweet nightingale…”

A black beast laid in the place where Vil once was, its gnarly teeth the same purple as Vil’s eyes. Your hands brushed the black fur as the fire crackled and spat cinders from within. The beast, no, Vil’s body laying peacefully on your lap. You move, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek and his body only moving to keep warm against you.

“High above me…”

The enchanted rose glowed dimly, its first petals beginning to fall to the countertop beneath it.

Your eyes open and the wood that once fueled the fire was reduced to ashes. Elena stood over you while Vil, in his human form, slept peacefully on your lap. The two of you shared glances and you immediately opened your mouth.

“I didn’t go upstairs this time.”

She knelt, adjusting the blanket over the sleeping boy’s long figure. You noticed how his body looked in this position, not too lanky and not too toned…but skin so pale from the days he never went out. Come to think of it, he never usually went out unless he needed to. And when he came back, he would stay in for long periods before taking his leave again.

Suddenly, you thought about his parents and wondering if they knew of his situation. Where were they? What happened to them??

Were they affected by the curse as well?

“I’ll bring the breakfast here,” Elena says. “You stay here and watch over Vil.”

Vil had no qualms about eating in the library, given that the fire was warm and the meal was hot. It helped after the bad snowstorm that passed the house for days. You noticed he had a small appetite and a big penchant for drinking lots of fluids. Well, he is a model so you don’t blame him for following the strict regimens.

“You have a nice voice,” Vil says, putting down his cup. “Thank you for last night. I hope that my beastly form wasn’t much of a problem to you.”

Shaking your head, you quickly swallow the stew you were eating. “No, no, it’s quite alright. I’m happy you think that but…About that form.” You feel Elena’s gaze on you and you force yourself to bite back a lingering question.

Vil himself was also silent. “If they’re going to stay here then they should know.” Elena’s shoulders relaxed but her expression remained unsure. “Vil, are you—.”

“I know a person with ulterior motives when I see it.” He looks over to you with a small smirk and boy does it match the messy hair and too droopy clothing. “What we have with us is nothing more than a curious little mouse.”

And you don’t whether that was an insult or a compliment but your squinting eyes only fueled his laughter, those shoulders of his bopping under the protective blanket. “Then what I saw…”

“Everything you saw was real, down to the very last petal of the rose.”

You knew it! You were right!! A smile graced your lips and you sat back against the chair you sat on. Vil took a sip and proceeded to ask more questions, some of which you didn’t have a direct answer to. “Now that you have all the information you need, what will you do with it?”

You looked down at your plate, mulling it over. “Nothing.” You answer. “You called me a curious mouse with no ulterior motive so I’ll do nothing with it.”

Vil hid his smile behind the cup of tea and Elena only sighed, a small burden lifting from her shoulders as the two of you spoke casually.

Vil was moved to the second floor, letting him rest on a real bed. You look around the room, seeing it with proper lighting for the first time. All the mirrors were covered in cloth, some cracked. The paintings that hung on the wall looked immaculate, beautifully painted…Except for one figure whose face was splashed with black. Your brows furrowed, trying to identify who this person was.

“I assume you still have more questions, little mouse.”

Vil sat up, motioning you forward to sit on the edge. “Who is he?” The family’s portrait hung as a centerpiece, you could identify a baby Vil, and his parents sitting across from each other…But that one person standing over them; you couldn’t make heads or tails of it with all the black paint in the way.

“My grandfather.”

A long sigh left Vil, his finger tucking a hair behind his ear. “Before my father went into acting, he was part of the family business led by my grandfather.” He closed his eyes, imagining the warm shop that housed many items and the many people coming in and out to buy supplies. A small Eric would clumsily put grocery items into a paper bag and wrap it, his father looming over him as he collected payments.

“He was strict when needed but his anger knew no bounds when it was released.” Vil slid down onto his bed. “Running a business is difficult, I understand that, but these fits were often quite scary to witness.” Staring into the rose’s glow, the light formed shadows of a figure hunching over a screaming beast. “It led him down a path of ruin, they went out of business and struggled during the bad brunt of the storm season.”

“He wasn’t the best at controlling his emotions, was he?” Vil shook his head at your question. “Not by a long shot. That was the very same anger that led to all this in the first place.” He looked up at the painting with contempt as if the painting stared back at him the same way. “Try as he may, my father could never outrun the curse…Even after I saw born.”

You remembered the book, the story you read by the fire. “Then…”

Vil’s hummed a laugh, eyes blinking slowly. The shadows formed by the glow of the rose moved to a scared family and a shaking figure holding a shadow of the rose. “He yelled at the wrong people, made enemies of those with magic far stronger than anyone could ever imagine.”

The shadows drew dimmer, the beastly form taking shape, roaring at the rose with all its fury and behind it was a weeping family. It all dissipated like a breaking film tape under Vil’s sigh.

Now, cursed and alone, the beautiful boy lived in a husk of his own home waiting the days for the earth to take him whole.

Your heart felt heavy, remembering the last line of the story. “I’m sorry.” That was all you could say to him but he hunched his shoulders with a dismissiveness. “What happened has passed. As you said before: the tears have already been shed.” The rose’s petals fall to the floor below it.

“Is there a way to reverse this?”

“An open heart.” he looked over to you with a smile unable to be read. “That’s all.”

You hung your head, unable to say anything. Vil only wraps his blanket around himself tighter while you stare at the glowing rose until its ethereal color was seared into your memory.

There was a splash of water, Vil sits in the tub with you preparing his robe and other items. “The snow should have receded by now. We could take a walk if you’d like.” As days passed through the house, you and Vil had grown closer. Now that either of you had nothing to hide, the tension that once felt between you was almost nonexistent.

“It has been a while since I’ve gone out. Some sunlight would do all of us good.” He said, leaning back on the tub with eyes closed. “A day in the sun…”

“Indeed. It would be nice to feel some warmth.” You learned that you and he weren’t very different. Both of you loved music, loved the theatre, just anything to dance to. And you also found out that Vil himself had a wonderful singing voice, almost like velvet.

“All those days in the sun, what I’d give to relive just one. Undo what’s done and bring back the light.”

You found out that his mother passed when he was young and his father, Eric, raised him all on his own after his mother was out of the picture. He was Vil’s first teacher, first friend, his support clutch in understanding why he was the way he was. “Days in the sun will return. We must believe—.”

“As lovers do…”

Your voices mingled together and while embarrassed to admit it, you had listened to it to his movies while cleaning. He may have caught you a few times, though. “That days in the sun…Will come shining…Through…” His deep beautiful voice echoed through the chamber, you imagined hearing it in a large theatre. Oh, you were certain Vil would love to do that.

“I always wondered why you never tried theatre.” You didn’t need to turn around to know his expression. “Do you think I’ll make it there, little mouse?”

“You’re Vil Schoenheit, son of Eric Venue. Of course, you will!”

A comfortable silence followed his laugh while you continued to face away from him. The Zen between you two almost unbreakable in the warm bathing room. The flower’s glow dimmed in the emptiness and losing more petals that piled beneath it.

With the music playing in the back, Vil watched from the balcony after getting his fair share of sunlight after the storm had passed. The voice of his father was rich and melodious as his role of a man finally falling in love after years of isolation.

He watched as you trudged around the snow before going back to his room, not once looking at the dimming rose and straight to his television. “I was the one who had it all,” His father sang. “I was the master of my fate. I never needed anybody in my life. I learned the truth too late.” The first time he had transformed into the beast he knew today, he had scared the recently hired help.

“I’ll never shake away the pain.” They were very cruel with their words, to the point that it was Elena, of all people, who told them to leave the house. Though the terror had left, it left Vil with uncertainty and fear of his appearance.

Eric’s character peered out the window just as the heroine pulls out a horse, the determination not hidden from even the viewer. “I close my eyes but she’s still there. I let her steal into my melancholy heart, it’s more than I can bear.” And now you took that place. From the get-go, Vil knew you have gone through hardships of your own. He could see it just by looking at your steeled expression and the aura you held on your shoulders.

“Now I know she’ll never leave me even as she runs away.” Not only had you defied the rule twice, your curiosity only spurred you further on with your investigation. And even when you had all the information you needed and cracked the code, you did nothing with it. “She will torment me, calm me, hurt me, move me…Come what may.”

Vil stands up just as Eric’s character runs up the stairs, the spiraling staircase almost hypnotic from above. “Wasting in my lonely tower, waiting by an open door.” He comes back to the balcony and opens the door, seeing you and Elena hauling in the bag of chestnuts. “I’ll fool myself, she’ll walk right in…” The two of you catch each other’s line of sight.

“And be with me for evermore.”

As the two of you smiled at each other, the rose begins to wilt and hunch over with each petal falling from the stem. The smell of spring drew close, Vil took a deep breath in then sighed it out. When he closes his eyes, all he ever sees are the days he’ll spend with you.

And the envisioning of a grand theatre, the same one he first saw his father in. He begins humming a small tune, thinking of the harmonizing violins, the beautiful costumes, and designs. The rose wilts more, only one petal remains on its dying stem.

The days had passed all so quickly, the winter giving its way to spring them to summer. You stood in front of the theatre, your family next to you. Trein takes you by the hand “Shall we?” entering the grand theatre, you and your sibling marveled at the beautifully crafted designs, the plush seating, and the long curtains.

“It’s beautiful.” Said your father, his smile soft. “Thank you for bringing us here.”

Angelo and Donovan pushed along, overly excited for the play. “Come on, come on.” One of them says. “It’s about to begin! Let’s sit down.”

The lights dim and the curtains open, droves of characters coming in their beautifully crafted costumes. You see Vil in his costume, waltzing with another character in yellow. The horns placed onto him were just as beautiful as him yet, after seeing his breast-like form…It never stood a chance.

The stage dimmed when he took the stage, a single rose in hand. His voice was loud, pure, perfect as he sang the song of a man who found love after years of isolation. His expression perfectly encapsulating the sadness he had felt.

“I rage against the trials of love. I curse the fading of the light.”

You remember the very first moment he bore his heart to you, the moment he asked you to sing for the very first time. “Though she’s already flown so far beyond my reach, she’s never out of sight.” Gone were the days he hid within the confines of his room and gone were the days he needed to hide out of fear.

“Now I know she’ll never leave me even if she fades from view!”

He twirls, his eyes searching the crowd until he finds yours in the crowd. “She will still inspire me, be a part of everything I do.” The background behind him changes, the spiraling staircase he walks one moved at his every move until he reaches the balcony, leaning his hands to sing his heart out with a hopeful look. The both of you stare at each other as he sings his heart out, saying the words he wanted everyone to hear with a voice he no longer feared. “Wasting in my lonely tower, waiting by an open door.”

He breathes, the wind and strings instruments beginning their strong ascend in a crescendo of harmonizing and accenting melody. “I’ll fool myself, she’ll walk right in.”

The rose glows in his hand and he hunched his back, readying himself. “And as the long, long nights begin.”

Vil looks up into the light, his expression one of pure passion and love. “I’ll think of all that might have been.” And the grip on the rose tightens but only for a moment.

“Waiting here…For ever—.”

Vil lets the rose float out of his hand and ascends up to the center of the room.

“—More!” The flower burst into a rain of petals that add to his last note and accompaniment of the instruments.

The last petal of the glowing rose falls, the stem falling on a pile of dried rose petals following the applause of the crowd. Vil regains his breathing, his eyes listless as he stares up at the ceiling when the music ends, the curtains fall, and the lights go out.

You pass through the crowds of colors and thrills, looking for the familiar mop of blond and purple hair. “Vil!” You yell out to him just as he comes to view in the sea of people. His arms are ready to take it in, “You were amazing out there!”

The sun begins to set during the embrace, Vil’s face continued to smile at you and soon giving a solemn bow to your father and brothers. “Mr. Schoenheit, it’s a pleasure to meet you. That was a wonderful performance.” He says, smiling at him with eyes trained to your hands holding the actor’s. Ah, gets it.

“Thank you, Mr. Trein. I’m glad you liked it.”

“Vil Schoenheit, you’re needed for a picture.” Says one of the stage crew and Vil reluctantly pulls away. “Coming. I’ll see you later?” He asks you and you tip your toes to him, pressing a light kiss to his lips. “I’ll wait outside. Bye Vil.”

You run out of backstage and yet he had a feeling that finding you won’t be that much of a problem. He touches his lips. “So this is love…” He whispered to himself and made his way to his troop, readying himself for the pictures.

#works from the typewriter #twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #g/n reader #valentines event

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rpmemestorehouse · 3 years

Text

Monster Island Buddies Starters: Season 3

Change wording as needed

“A long, long time ago, at your fat, fat mom’s house...”

“Ah, the great outdoors. Finally, I can enjoy some peace and quiet, and I can be alone with my thoughts.”

“What the f- what did I do?!”

“Come on, what’re you doing?! Put me down!”

“I’m gonna hunt down every monster responsible for [Name]’s death, one by one.”

“Come on, listen. The leader played us all!”

“Now let’s have a roll call!”

“Thou thus thee! Thou thou, thus!”

“How did he know burning my flesh was my weakness?!”

“I mean, obviously the bad guys keep escaping custody and causing problems, so, doesn’t it just make sense to kill them and end it there?”

“Hulk WEEPS for fallen foes!”

“Can I still use the team’s dental plan?”

“I got a cameraaa!”

“Tell us about your new movie!”

“Nyeah, look boss! The kid’s taping us!”

“[Name], finish with the transdimensional portal. And put a shirt on!”

“Wait, hold on I can do this.”

“Please, Master! Save me! Why are you just standing there watching?!”

“Hehehe, Turtle Power!”

“We’re ninjas! This is what we do!”

“You’re holding a sword! Drive it through his heart!”

“*whispering* Dude, he’s fucked up.”

“[Name], listen. What happened to [Name] isn’t your fault.”

“...must...keep...going...”

“That hurts even though I’m metal!”

“Hello. My name is [Name]. You killed my friend. Prepare to die.”

“I come from a planet behind Jupiter.”

“Ah, you must be the great [Name].”

“I know everything. I know that you seek revenge.”

“I want what you want: revenge for an unjust death.”

“Hooooly SHIT, Batman!”

“I’m just gonna drink until I die.”

“Alright alright alright! We don’t have to watch that again!”

“[Name] why you talkin’ like that? That ain’t your motherfuckin’ voice.”

“I’m just in-character. I’m a professional actor, see?”

“What’s the matter? Afraid I’ll win another fight against you?”

“...You know as well as I do that our fight was a tie.”

“Aaah shit, I smell a rematch y’all.”

“Yeah, here’s your rematch.”

“Trick-or-treat, smell my ass, give me candy!”

“Whatever you do, don’t go the old mansion on Elm Street. It’s haunted by nutcrackers, you know!”

“*incomprehensible, possessed babbling*

“I played a priest once on a daytime soap opera!”

“I vant to suck your nuts!”

“Aah, Frankenstein, we meet again.”

“Even in the afterlife, I want you dead!”

“...Thanks for taking one for the team, man.”

“Don’t you ever fucking talk to me again.”

“It’s HAMLET! Read a book!”

“Isn’t it FUN doing group activities TOGETHER?!”

“We’ve found you at last!”

“Now you guys chase US!”

“FIRE POWERRR!!!”

“There’s no need for things to ever get awkward!”

“Now I’m in the past again!”

“Looks like you’re in quite the pickle, old sport!”

“Why are you always breaking in and stealing my sock?!”

“What? How did you find me?!”

“We finally got you! What do you have to say for yourself?!”

“...Fuck you.”

“Think I threw out my back on that one.”

“You and I now share a bond. You should stay with me.

“My place is with my friends.”

“Oh, hey [Nickname]. [Name]’s helping me do my taxes.”

“Yeah, apparently everyone wants me dead.”

“You idiots. Guns can’t hur- OOWWW!!!”

“Jesus [Name]! How do you manage to piss everyone off all the time?!”

“You owe the IRS 317 dollars″.

“Complete this scientific equation: E=mc...”

“HAMMER!”

“Raymond Burr was spliced into this Japanese movie for it’s American release...”

“Weren’t you supposed to be with [Name]?”

“I’ll stick my hand up your butt and pull you inside out! I’m gettin’ better at it! I’ve had practice!”

“I’m more powerful than you now!”

“I’m fine! Just a little tummy ache!”

#ask meme #ask starter #sentence meme #sentence starter #original memes #source: youtube #inbox meme #inbox starters #rp meme #rp starter #rp prompts #Author's note: yeah i kno it's july yet this has some halloween-themed prompts; i celebrate that sht year round

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of-tatooine · 4 years

Text

for the record. | chapter 1 - alpha

off-duty time would not last you for too long.

After all these years, the world never ceased to remind you that rules never changed.

While the players of the game always rotated along with the enemy and the friendly alike, this dangerous life that many chose to lead had undeniable constants - etched onto your brain in a devout mantra, something to remember in your darkest or most fleeting moments.

Kill, or be killed.

That was the first thing that they taught you, at the beginning of those long and arduous days of training in the barracks. Scout out the situation and if there is any sign of remote danger, pull your gun first, or you will end up with a bullet in your head. Sometimes, it was better to shoot first and then ask questions - if you were still alive by then.

Though in your line of work, the learning phase never ended. Warfare shifted and changed constantly, forcing you to adapt. It was something you had to just come in terms with. At that point in your career, as sad as it was to think about it from a civilian’s perspective, it was all more creative and effective ways of getting confirmed kills. New weapons, new tactics brought with them new problems - along with new ways of dealing with them. Technology tackled advanced aircraft and armor, adding up to your arsenal.

One thing remained the same.

It all added up to the big stirring pot of the everlasting recipe - mass destruction.

And with destruction came in the casualties. The aftermath of modern combat. The rivers of blood on pavement, hands clawing at the burnt metal, scathed bodies crawling out of the smoky debris. Sights and sounds and screams you wanted to erase from your memory for a lifetime. The pain coarsing through the body after the penetration of a bullet. Sickening roars of helicopter engines giving out.

Yet, as a soldier, all you could do, all you were authorized to do was to bury them deep down - so you could live to see another day. Another day to fight for the flag. For peace, for honor and for the sake of lives.

The lives of many against your only.

The warm mug a welcome distraction in your hands, your eyes would wander around the busy Regent Street of London, people walking around in the usual hustle and bustle of the shopping district. The smell of freshly ground beans from the cafes scattered around, mixing in with the pleasantness of the gray post-rainfall. A spectrum of vibrant colors of shopping bags and clothes pleasing your eyes - it had been a while since you had gotten to enjoy a couple of hours all saved for yourself. The book whose pages were between your fingers moments ago then closed, as your conscience lost itself within the faces creating the sea of people.

The lives you were sworn to protect. Sometimes it felt like remembering another life, far far away - that you had been one of them. A civilian. Who needed protection in times of immediate danger.

Some were smiling and laughing, without a care in the world, radiating energy and happiness which had been a blessing in the usual London gloom. Some were in professional attire, their strides just a bit faster and their expressions harboring that of stress, concern and exhaustion. Not too long ago, you had been one of them - but your brain did not let you dissociate from the constucted reality you had left just yet.

None of those troubles mattered when snipers left and right rained bullets on you. The stress of studying for a big test was nothing compared to being caught in blast radius, fearing to look around you so you do not see your friends dead and gone.

The echoes of your last name originating from an accented, deep voice reached your ears, rippling inside the busy cafe you had chosen to visit for the day. Coming closer and closer until they associated with a couple thuds of heavy feet and finally, a face, as you turned around to face whomever was looking for you.

Out of all places, Captain.

It did not take you too long to get to your feet out of respect and sheer habit, offering him a nod in an attempt to hide your surprise. “Sergeant,” he would greet you with your rank, the commanding voice he used on the field to lead dampened - yet still powerful. It even had a small smile attached to it too, which was not unusual.

It made the thumping of your heart slow down. A civilian visit from your Captain usually meant bad news and noticing his mouth curl up under the beard calmed you down more than you ever thought.

“Captain Price,” you greeted back, arm gesturing to the seat right in front of you across the marble table, inviting him. “Please.”

The man, whom you had become so used to seeing in the famous military green was dressed in the simple and casual combination of a black jacket with jeans. It was a welcome change - not often did you see your commanding officer at a coffee shop in the heart of the city. Consequently, the air had been a bit awkward - just like how it felt when you felt the need to always show your best self, like there had been no room for mistakes.

That did not mean you could not try to get on his better side.

“Can I get you anything, Sir? Tea? I doubt they have a good pint here.”

That was when he looked directly in your eyes.

They said all soldiers had this blur in their eyes wherever they looked at. That no matter how happy they had been, no matter how much sparkle covered their worn-out irises, the dusty haze that veiled them was ever present. His familiar blue glint was subdued by some unknown, yet not lifeless. Not soulless. There was some sort of drive fueling him, the origins of it unbeknownst to you - the only thing you could discern was that it must have been for some good, judging by his chuckle and the slight shake of his head.

A file stamped with the all-too-familiar red confidential sign slid across the white marble along with him as he got settled in the chair, leaning his elbows slightly over the top.

“Raincheck, Sergeant, but I do have something that you might like.”

And with that, his fingers pushed the rather thin file over to you, blue eyes gazing around the shop as he undoubtedly made sure everyone was minding their own business. Here at London, he knew he had been safer than most places and yet you could only attest to the cautiousness of the man.

An eyebrow slightly raised as you leaned a bit forward, the initial welcome surprise slowly yielding to apprehension of what was inside the document. Another mission assingment had been the last thing you wanted to see after the literal living hellhole of the battlezone you had last been to. A part of you did not want to open up that cover but the other half of you yearned desperately to.

With a quick look to confirm, once you got his nod, you yielded to your other half.

And with every second spent looking at the papers containing profiles and overviews adorned with the faint Crusader shield watermarks, your eyebrows would furrow even more in confusion. Towards the bottom of the page, you could spot the one-liner character profiles for soldiers - some you had recognized and worked with, some names ringing no bells at all.

Then there it was. It was a mystery to you why it had taken you that long to find it. Right under the line occupied by a certain “John ‘Soap’ Mactavish” was your full name, with a old picture of you that belonged to one of your earlier days of training.

What the hell kind of a name is Soap?

“Now, I know you’re on the reserve for the time being,” Price spoke, breaking you out of your silent concentration as your head snapped up to divert focus into him. “But your skills in combat were not unnoticed.”

That made you proud inside, yet on the outside - it manifested in a subtle way of a simple yet courteous nod as you waited for him to continue. Closing the file for the time being, you felt the air shift as he leaned in towards you - voice dropping lower and tone growing grave.

“We have a huge war looming in the horizon, Sergeant,” he said, piercing orbs staring right into your soul. The kind of stare that could have the toughest of soldiers crack and break down, that could stop the bullet in trajectory.

“Millions of lives are at stake. You saw what happened in Urzikistan - you were there, on the frontlines.”

The mere mention of the place made your jaw clench and a gulp run down your throat, the memories of utter bloodshed still fresh in your mind.

“It is going to happen again.”

“How can I help?” slipped out of your mouth before your brain could control it, completely forgetting the fact that you had been granted off-duty time and was currently on it. Forgetting that you had to worry about taking care of your own demons in your head first, before jumping right into a war you thought you had just ended.

“I want you to be on my team,” he simply said, a look of reassurance thrown your way as he folded his arms on the table, head tilting just a bit to gauge yur reaction. His finger reached out to gently tap on the folder, gently opening the tab and pointing to the list of soldiers including yours truly.

“You will be working with handpicked warriors, the toughest of them all. Undertaking the most covert and dangerous operations - changing the world as you do it.”

There was this tone of finality in his voice that made it feel natural for you to follow everything he was instructing you to. Of course it was - he was your commanding officer, yet what he was asking out of you this time was much more than a simple recruitment for an operation.

No, what he made it sound like was that his team would be something akin to a ghost - working behind enemy lines, not alerting a single soul. It honored you that he had included you along with the names of seemingly renown soldiers, selected for off-the-grid duty due to your previous success. But was there really a need to add any additional danger to your already-risky life? It was a miracle you had not died yet and you were not so sure if another covert operation team would help with your chances. These kinds of operations only ended in either of the two ways - your mutilated corpse in a body bag or carrying your friend’s instead.

There probably also would not be many other occassions where Captain Price, one of the most trusted officers in the Services, would approach you with such an opportunity.

As your mind raced in crazy thought traffic, the sounds of the outside world and the otherwise peaceful cafe had been muffled. It was only you, him, and that little paper file you grazed your fingertips on, in order to maintain at least a slice of reality. Decisions like these had never been easy to make, especially when they would completely change your life and possibly your entire outlook. They never would be easy - there was not much “easy” associated to your line of work.

And yet going into it in the first place was something you had willingly chosen.

After all of that blood, sweat and lead - how could you say no?

Taking a deep breath as your lips moved to echo your determined voice, you spoke sofly with a nod. Chest loosening as you let out a breath you had no idea you had been holding for so long.

“I’m in, Sir.”

The ghost of a smile turned into a real one as his hand extended itself over the table, an almost proud nod as you shook it as firmly as you could.

“Welcome to the 141.”

next chapter

#here we GOOOO #lmk what you think!!!#john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #cod #modern warfare #cod reader insert #lets goooooo #john price #captain price #mw #mw2

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