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queenxxxsupreme · 1 month

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At the End of the World

(Cooper Howard x Reader)

A/N: I have no idea what is going to happen next ya’ll. I need to figure out what direction this shit is going in cause I’m so lost 😭

Warning: mentions of child death, mentions of panic attacks, nothing outside of canon

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: You open up to Lucy about your past. Here is Part 1 and here is Part 2

As you followed Cooper back down the hallway towards the kitchen, Lucy passed you both.

“We’re leaving soon, girly.” You told her.

“Okey-dokey! Just gonna get my things together really quick.”

Back in the kitchen, Alma was lighting herself a cigarette.

“Icy May said the girl is the daughter of a Vault-Tec big wig.”

”What’s it to you?” Cooper looked over to Alma.

“Cooper.” You said his name almost scoldingly. He didn’t need to be rude to Alma. She had been gracious enough to let the three of you stay the night.

His eyes flickered over to you. He took a puff of his cigarette, flicking the ashes into a metal pan on the table.

Lucy was just beginning to make her way back down the hallway when she heard her father’s name.

“She’s gonna be our key to get close to Hank MacLean.”

Lucy stopped, her brows furrowing together as she listened more carefully. What were they talking about?

“How do you feel about that, Icy?” Alma asked. There was no answer for a couple seconds.

“I’ve thought about killing her so many times, Alma. I-I lost my Grace and that bastard got to see his little girl grow up—,” You abruptly stopped talking.

Lucy took a step backwards. You had thought about killing her? Lucy couldn’t believe it. You had been so nice to her, so much more concerned about her than the Ghoul was.

***

”How do you feel about that, Icy?”

Your gaze found Alma. You were quiet for a few moments, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’ve thought about killing her so many times, Alma. I-I lost my Grace and that bastard got to see his little girl grow up and—,” You stopped yourself, shaking your head softly.

Alma watched you, a pitiful look twinkling in her eyes. She knew your story, had heard first hand from you the heartbreak and the horrors that you had had to face.

“But she doesn’t…. She doesn’t know about her father, Alma.” You pulled a chair out at the table and sat down in it. “Her vault believed they would be the ones to repopulate the earth, that they were the chosen ones…. She has no idea that he was instrumental in destroying the world.”

”Well, I’m sure she’s finding things out the hard way.” Alma sighed out.

As she left the room, Cooper tried to follow her, but you stopped him.

“Why won’t you tell me what Lucy said to you, Coop?”

He stopped in his tracks, shoulders falling slack as he let out a heavy breath. He adjusted his hat, tilting the brim down a little more to cover his face as he turned to face you.

“She, uh…. She asked if I loved you.” His voice was quiet.

You looked at him, almost shocked by what he was saying.

“If-If you…” You tried to repeat his words but they got caught in your throat.

In the two decades or more that you knew the ghoul, neither of you had spoken such words to each other. Maybe it was a little ridiculous that it hadn’t happened yet, but to share something so special, so beautiful in a world marred with death and destruction…. It felt wrong. It felt dangerous.

Cooper stood there for a few minutes, watching the wheels turn in your head. What were you going to say? How were you going to react? Now wasn’t the time to be discussing such things. Not in Alma’s kitchen, not while Hank MacLean was still stirring in the front of your mind.

“Why did you get so worked up over the question?” You murmured.

Still, Cooper was silent. He peered out from underneath his hat to meet your gaze.

“I reckon I don’t like her askin’ me questions like that, doll.”

You nodded your head gently. You stood to your feet and closed the space between the two of you. You messed with the lapel of his jacket, fingers gripping the old, worn leather.

“Don’t let that vault dweller get under your skin, old man.” A little smile tugged ever so slightly at the corner of your lips. “You got bigger fish to fry.”

A crooked grin crossed his features. His hand slipped around your waist to draw you closer to him.

“We better get this show on the road.” He dipped his head down to seal a kiss on your lips. You brought your hands up to his shoulder and the side of his neck, pulling him as close to you as possible. His hand on your waist moved around to your lower back, offering you support as he pushed even harder against your lips.

“Careful—,” You tried to speak but his mouth prevented you from doing so. “Easy-Easy…. Cowpoke.”

You pushed him back a little, giggling as he fought against you. He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth and then your cheek and your temple.

“You’re kissing me hard enough to leave bruises, old man.”

”Just you wait ‘til we don’t have that vaultie to worry ‘bout.” He finally loosened his grip on you and adjusted his hat. “Bruises will be the least of your worries.”

”Oh, I’m shivering in my boots.” You teased him. “I’m going to go get our little vaultie.”

”You girls need to hurry up. We’re losin’ daylight.”

You slipped around him to go down the hallway and see where Lucy was.

“Are you ready to go, Lucy?” You poked your head into the room she had been staying in. She was in the corner of the room furthest from you, standing rigid with her arms by her side.

Your left eye picked up on her heart beating fast.

“What’s wrong?”

”You’ve thought about killing me?” She whispered.

Your shoulders fell. She had heard you. You let out a sigh, crossing your arms and leaning against the frame of the door.

“Yeah, I have.” You nodded. “Your father has done horrific things, Lucy.”

”No. No he hasn’t.” She firmly shook her head. “My father is a good man.”

”I don’t know how to get you to believe me. Vault-Tec, a company your dad works for, dropped the bombs. They killed so many people, Lucy.”

Still, she didn’t believe you. Her blue eyes stayed on you, brows furrowed together.

“Grief has a way of making you feel certain ways. Part of me has thought about killing you many, many times as a way to get to your father. But I wouldn’t hurt you.”

”I don’t believe you.”

You nodded your head gently.

“Either way, we need to get moving. Cooper’s an impatient man.”

Lucy crossed her arms.

”I’m not going anywhere.”

”You can do this my way— and come with us willingly —or Cooper will come in here and tie you up.” You turned and left the room.

***

For the first hour or so of your walk, none of you spoke.

Part of you felt bad. She had begun to trust you and you knew just how bad it felt to have someone you trusted betray you.

“I had to kill my husband, Lucy.” You spoke, making sure your voice was loud enough to hear from where she walked just ahead of you.

Upon hearing your confession, Lucy stopped walking so that she could fall in line beside you.

“Why?”

”It was just after the bombs dropped. We were barely making it. Everything…. It was so much worse then than it is now. I didn’t know the things I know now…. My husband’s name was Adrian. He, um, was affected by the radiation. No one knew what a ghoul was at that time. We had seen people around us turning, seen what they were capable of. There was no medicine to keep them from going feral…. We were staying at a camp just outside of Anaheim here in California. My husband and I…. We saw a mother who was affected by the radiation attack her own children.”

You paused to take a deep breath. You could still hear the sounds of her hissing and growling, the sound of her tearing her children into pieces.

“Adrian and I decided that we couldn’t stay there any longer. We didn’t know if it was some sort of sickness going around or what but…. We left the camp. A week later, my husband began to get worse. The coughing, the hissing….” Goosebumps rose across your skin as the memories echoed in your head. “He begged me to kill him. He-He didn’t want to hurt me or to hurt Gracie. At that point in time, I hadn’t killed anybody. Hell, I had never even thought about killing anyone. But my Adrian was my first.”

”Icy, I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head, blinking quickly to get rid of the tears in your right eye.

“Shortly after that happened, Vault-Tec found me. They put my girl in a cryochamber and started their little experiments. Took almost everything on my left side. My eye, my arm, my lung, my leg…. All of it is what they called cybernetic. After they were done, they threw me in one of those chambers too.”

”How did you get out?”

You took a deep breath.

“The vault the chambers were being kept in was raided. Me and my daughter barely escaped. That was about twenty years ago, give or take a few.”

“You don’t look that old,”

”Whatever they did to me, it slowed down my aging.”

”And your daughter? What happened to her?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. It took you a while to be able to say it out loud.

”Icy.” Cooper’s raspy voice came from behind you. You came to a stop, eyes dead set on the vast emptiness ahead. “Your heart’s beatin’ too fast.”

He knew you were about to talk your way right into a panic attack.

”I’m okay.” You took a deep breath once, twice, then three times. You needed to regain control of yourself.

“You don’t have to tell me.” Lucy shook her head.

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” You insisted. “We need to keep moving.”

”We’ll make camp tonight and tomorrow, we should be passing through Bolder some time in the morning.” Cooper looked to Lucy and nodded his head in the direction that the three of you had been walking. “Get movin’, vaultie.”

Lucy gave you one last glance before she started walking.

“Come on, doll.” Cooper reached out to put his hand on your back, offering you support through the small touch.

”Don’t treat me like I’m crazy, Cooper.”

”I ain’t treatin’ you no way. Just don’t want to see you get yourself all worked up. You’ll start hyperventilatin’ and then you won’t be able to breathe right. You’ll fuck yourself up for the rest of the day with that iron lung of yours.”

You said nothing.

***

Later That Night

Cooper stood in the doorway of the rundown shack the three of you were staying the night in. He leaned against the worn wood, a cigarette perched between two fingers while his eyes scanned the Wasteland before him.

It was dark out, but every so often the clouds would part enough for the moon to shine its light over the emptiness.

The Ghoul glanced down, watching the ashes from his cigarette fall to the ground.

Movement behind him made him turn his head. Lucy was awake. She glanced over to him momentarily.

”Can’t sleep.” She said, pushing herself to her feet.

”Welcome to the club.” Cooper placed his cigarette between his lips.

Lucy slipped past the ghoul, who watched her carefully. What was she doing? Surely she wouldn't try to make a run for it, not with him watching her.

Cooper’s hand found the rope hanging on his hip. He was ready to use it if need be, but the Vault Dweller sat down on the side of the hill that led up to the shack.

She pulled her knees loosely to her chest and looked up at the sky.

Cooper took the cigarette out of his mouth, blowing smoke through his nose.

“I never knew the stars could be so pretty.” Lucy commented.

Cooper said nothing, not that she expected him to.

Silence fell between them. The only sound that could be heard was the breeze blowing through the few trees around the shack.

“I’m sorry about earlier.” Lucy apologized.

“Don’t worry about it.” The ghoul muttered.

“How did you meet Icy?”

Cooper finished his cigarette, throwing the end of it onto the ground.

“You just like to yap, don’t you?”

Lucy looked away from him.

He stood there for a few moments, debating on whether or not to entertain the vault dweller.

What the hell.

Cooper moved to sit down, putting plenty of space between himself and Lucy.

“‘Bout twenty years ago, there was a bounty put out for her.”

”What was the bounty for?”

”Didn’t say, but she said it was Vault-Tec. They wanted her back, I reckon, ‘cause of whatever science experiments they were doin’ with her. The bounty notice didn’t say anything about the little girl travelin’ with her.”

”Grace.” Lucy murmured.

“If anyone had gotten their hands on Icy for that bounty…. who knows what would’ve happened to Grace.” Cooper pulled out a carton of cigarettes and took another cigarette out. “So I agreed to help get them across the Wasteland. West of here was a city many considered a refuge. Icy just wanted me to take her and her little girl there.”

Lucy watched as the ghoul’s face lit up as he put the flame of the lighter beneath his cigarette.

“We got a day or so into the trip when we came across this run down dumpster of a place. It was an old trader’s post turned into a little village but the folks who lived there had long since disappeared. What we didn’t know was that a paranoid fella had set up shop. Littered the whole place with traps and trip lines. Grace got ahead of us. Icy saw the line she was about to run into and…. Well, there wasn’t much that could be done after that.”

“Oh my gosh.” Lucy whispered.

Cooper could still feel the way you had gripped him so tight as he shielded you from your daughter.

“I can’t…. I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose your family like that.”

Cooper flicked his cigarette, shaking his head gently.

“Ain’t a feelin’ I’d wish on my worst enemy, vaultie.”

Lucy looked over to him, eyebrows drawn together just slightly. That was perhaps the first time she had seen something in his eyes that resembled humanity.

Taglist: @green--beanie @mack-attack420 @miniemonie2001 @eykismyfav @fallout-girl219 @msrawog @midwesternwitchery @classaysstuff @keyofgigi @sunnexaltation @ghcstvibess @jayden-okayden @grippleback-galaxy

(I’m so sorry if I missed anyone, and tumblr was being stupid and wouldn’t let me tag a couple of you :()

#fallout #queenxxxsupreme #fallout tv show #the ghoul fallout #the ghoul #cooper Howard the ghoul #cooper Howard #cooper Howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper Howard fic #the ghoul fic

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ghosts-cyphera · 7 months

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Here I am your biggest nightmare, I have a request from my not so beloved Graves with the prompt 27 “You’re a bad liar did you know?”, but I have no idea what to ask for with it, so good job love you bye *kiss kiss*

turns out that you, darling, were my biggest blessing because this is what got me out of my writing slump. fucking graves, lmao. it's far from my best work (besties please go easy on me), but I'm so very grateful to you for sending this in! ♡

warnings/content: phillip graves x gn!reader, 18+; mdni! angst with suggestive themes, mentions of the (in this drabble upcoming) massacre of las almas. reader working for the shadow company. blackmail leading to a kiss, implied future sex. petnames: sweetheart, baby. wordcount: 515

"I'm done." with shaking hands and a pounding heart, you stormed past graves, your boots falling heavy against the concrete floor. "I want nothing to do with this."

"if you think—," graves' fingers around your arm yanked you back to him. his touch was so tight, so unforgiving, that even through your tactical gear you knew your skin would be kissed by bruises after. "—for a goddamn moment that you can go and walk away from me, baby—"

"I am not your fucking baby, graves," you spat out, jaw clenched. "not after tonight's orders. I can't stop you from taking over las almas, but I sure as hell want nothing to do with it." your fingers moved to tear off the patch on your shoulder, and you let it fall on the ground. "I quit."

where you'd expected exploding rage: his face to turn red with his anger, and the scar on his cheek to scrunch up as he yelled... somehow this was worse.

the darkening eyes. the tilt of his head. the quiet amusement that finally—after what had seemed like a minute of him quietly observing you—turned audible as he parted his lips. "what do you think will happen to the people of las almas if you leave?"

"what?"

even more than you hated the way your voice had cracked, you hated the way that he laughed, low and breathless.

"you are what calms me down." he took a step toward you, fingers around your bicep tightening their grip as his chest pressed against yours. "you are what keeps me sane. take that away and—," his lips brushed against your earlobe, his voice low. "well. how much blood in your hands can you live with, sweetheart?"

your heart was racing: your thoughts clouding. "stop talking, phillip."

"why?" he raised a brow, his breath warm against your skin. familiar. "afraid you're gonna walk away? afraid you're gonna have to live with the guilt of knowing that if you had stayed—," he tilted his head, "if you had given yourself to me one more time—" his thumb moved to brush against your lower lip, and from the touch you shivered. "you could've saved them all?"

"get your fucking hands off me."

"no, walking away is not what you're afraid of," his voice was amused as he wet his lips. "you're afraid because you know you can't."

you jaw clenched as you swallowed, dry. "I never wanted any of this."

"you're a bad liar, did you know?" he laughed. "what you and I have is good. we both know it. fuck, if I didn't know any better I'd even go as far as to say that you learned to love me."

"yet you know that I hate every last thing about you."

"yet you will stay."

"not for you."

"for me, for them," he tilted his head as his lips moved to brush against yours. "doesn't matter." his lips captured yours in a kiss deep and dark—full of denied need, and guilt, and shame.

enough to bring the heaviest of tears to your eyes.

"the only thing that matters is that at the end of the day—"

enough to make your thighs clench.

"I will always win." his finger cupped your cheek, possessive. "never forget that, baby."

a/n: we hate him we hate him we hate him we want to fuck him we hate him

#phillip graves x reader #graves x reader #phillip graves x you #graves x you #philip graves x reader #phillip graves fic #m:pd

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miracles-and-butterflies · 2 months

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Posting an old AU, which did later and very loosely inspire my work: Intertwining Threads of Gold.

Allow me to introduce Severed Threads AU.

As this is a really old AU (the second Encanto AU I made after Fracture), it’ll be no surprise to you that’s it’s already completed. No spoilers or withholding information here! So, with that said, I’m just gonna drop the plot below.

Story starts in 1951. (For reference, Casita’s rebuild/the return of the miracle came about at the end of 1950).

With Isabela no longer having to be the golden child, there is a huge question of who will be Alma’s successor. She is leaning towards leaving the matriarchy to her children, the triplets, when she passes but the council talk her out of this. The council want to rule themselves but do respect most people wouldn’t accept a leader outside of the Madrigals, as Pedro was the one who sacrificed himself and it’s their miracle that has made their town a paradise. So… their candidates are limited to the Madrigals.

It doesn’t take them long to settle on Mirabel, as the weakest link, and plan to rule through her.

They easily manage to convince Alma to appoint Mirabel as her successor, who agrees that Mirabel (though will need some training) would be a good candidate. After signing over the rights, she doesn’t tell any of the Madrigals, naturally wanting to wait until Mirabel is older. The only Madrigal who does know is Dolores because of her gift but she is sworn to secrecy.

Though the council did initially plan to just wait for Alma to die, they just get impatient as they realise that may be further away than they first thought because of Julieta’s healing food. They plan to murder her.

Cut to early November. Mirabel is usually away with Dolores at the Guzmáns preparing for her and Mariano’s wedding, which makes her ties with the family distant. The council decide now is the perfect time to strike because Dolores is out of the way. At a party, one of them slips poison into Alma’s glass and she quickly dies over the next few days.

Before the news of Alma’s death can spread through the entire town, the council take Mirabel to the town hall and basically announce the death of her abuela, read out the documents naming her the next town leader and officially make her the next town leader. So… Mirabel is going through a lot. Because what the f—

The death is immediately suspicious to the rest of the Madrigals, as it came out of nowhere. Only made more suspicious by them finding out, through the other townspeople, that Mirabel is now the town leader. They don’t get a moment to ever talk or even see the girl, who is incredibly busy and being pulled like a puppet on strings. The council are purposefully keeping them apart, to keep control over Mira.

Julieta and Bruno are the ones who eventually workout their mother has been poisoned - thought it should be noted that Antonio and Isabela also assisted in this discovery. The news spreads like wildfire through the town and a mob rises up, the Madrigals included, demanding answers and that the person responsible be killed.

Realising this has blown up massively, the council act quickly. They pretty much abandon Mirabel and save themselves. Mirabel is arrested and is to stand trial in the future for her alleged crimes. While under arrest, she is driven “insane” by the lawyers who try to speak with her - they are all being paid off by the council, so they are just trying to make Mirabel confess to being guilty anyway they can.

The council unanimously agree to stand against Mirabel, fishing out any evidence they have and bringing it to court. This also includes the manipulation of Dolores, who agrees to say what they need her to. As she is made to believe that by Mirabel being guilty, she can be saved because of her age.

The trial runs over a couple of days. Mirabel finds out that Dolores is to stand in trial on the last day and plans to an escape (into the prisons garden) to be able to plead with her cousin as she head to court. Which, to her credit, does work. Only Dolores is pulled away and Mirabel never gets any sign that her cousin thinks/knows she’s innocent. Mirabel realises that she is completely screwed; she’s going to die.

Mirabel is found to be guilty and her means of death is left to be decided by the head of the council. As there is no official town leader, the rest of the council are left to make the choice. Based on something Mirabel said when they first made her town leader about Marie Antoinette, they pick beheading. Mirabel dies shortly before her seventeenth birthday.

Julieta becomes the next town leader a few weeks after. The council thought she would be the most controllable after Mirabel, which they were right on.

The family, though shaken over Alma’s death and Mirabel being a murderer, they do slowly fall back to normality and learn to move on. All saving Dolores, who is driven mad by her guilt and frequently claims that Mirabel is haunting her - she is kept in her room for the most part. Only her parents, Julieta and Camilo visit her regularly.

Luisa is also not as easily moved on. She gets pissed when Mirabel’s belongings (that she had in prison) are returned to them, mainly just books. She writes on the front page, mentions nothing about what she did or didn’t do to Abuela - just talks about the book itself.

While complaining to Isabela about it, Isabela points out that Mirabel would have been monitored and probably not allowed to write something so freely as her final words or a message of love. Which gets them both to thinking… how much control did their sister have? Both in prison and before?

They basically become detectives. There’s some breaking and entering, stealing things from the council, trying to make sense of anything Dolores has to say, and ultimately realise that Mirabel is innocent and the council are pieces of shit.

Timeline of events:

Late December 1950 - Casita is rebuilt and the magic returns

1st May 1951 - Alma signs over rights of succession to Mirabel

20th July 1951 - Dolores and Mariano are engaged

2nd September 1951 - Alma is poisoned

4th September 1951 - Alma dies and Mirabel becomes the matriarch

9th/10th September 1951 - Mirabel is arrested

4th November 1951 - first of Mirabel’s trial, she pleads her case

5th November 1951 - second day of Mirabel’s trial

6th November 1951 - final day of Mirabel’s trial, she begs Dolores for help and fails

8th November 1951 - Mirabel is sentenced

13th November 1951 - Mirabel is beheaded, Dolores is the only Madrigal in attendance

1st December 1951 - Julieta becomes the new town leader

Summer 1952 - Isabela and Luisa realise something isn’t right

#encanto #encanto au #encanto severed threads au

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gamerbearmira · 10 days

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🌻That Dazzlings AU has me thinking! So, you said you don't know if Alma is a good or bad person in this AU, so what if she doesn't know because she honestly was never let in on the fact that the "gifts" have an additional curse to them. She just notices that her babies have lockets when the Casita was created or when they turn 5 (whenever you decide), but she doesn't truly understand what they mean. Alma maybe realizing that her babies react to emotions more than other kids might, and finds their musical talent as they grow. But maybe she was so stressed in the beginning since, ya know, that she doesn't truly make the connections. And as they grow, her triplets figure out to maybe hide this, and as she's a first time mother without a great indication of how normal kids are supposed to act, the kids never get really caught. Maybe also helped by the triplets deciding to only in emergencies use their abilities against their loved ones, because even evil people can care for people close to them (let us not forget that maniacs can have loving families, and these are far more minor than those).

When the grandkids come along, I like the idea of then not having control either, the triplets sorta taking it in turns to support their kids. Bruno getting more than he needs and giving it to his sisters when they are napping is an image I love, because strong Pepa and perfect Juli don't ask him for help,but he knows when his sisters need more emotional fuel. Just seeing that they gave too much to his nieces and nephews and making up for it when they don't ask him. And maybe him utilizing the already created image of "bad luck Bruno" in these moments. A more bitter man taking a shred of revenge on these people who so often take his visions as cursed deciding to take their suffering and turn it into help for his family is something that itches well at my brain.

Sorry if the rant went somewhere y'all weren't wanting it to, or if it was too much. Just liking the idea of sinister Madrigals, not quite evil but certainly not the prisms of perfection they try to be in canon.

REALLLLL I LOVE THAT <33 I was leaning towards oblivious Alma lmao 😭 but it makes sense! I mean like you said, she's a new parent. She might have been a babysitter in the past but like these are HER kids its its not a one time thing. She's already busy enough as it is, so she's sorta only half keeping an eye on them and they seem fine most of the time. I think they would get the lockets at 5, gift or no gift, it doesn't matter. It's a curse, ain't NOBODY safe 💀💀 and yeah, I'm sure they figured out fast how to use them and what they had to do. Wasn't hard for them, and they were in it for each other, and their family, everyone else is just gonna have to suck it up (not that anyone truly realizes what they're doing).

ALSO STRONG PEPA AND PERFECT JULIETA I'M CRYING :((( Bruno knows that they'll deny his help if he just goes up and asks if they need more energy. But he sees how drained they are and takes any chances. Also I like your idea of him basically capitalizing on the whole "Bad Luck Bruno" thing, I was wondering if he would use that to his advantage. He probably has purposely bad vision. Like imagine he ends up figuring out how to tilt the scales and make them bad 🦅🦅 I mean I doubt he'd leave in this au. Hell, Mirabel's failed ceremony only fueled him and the others. Imagine how much power they got that day 😛

ALSO PLEASE. I LOVE THE IDEAS KEEP THEM COMING...If you want of course. I know there's a whole lotta people with awesome ideas, and for this au no less??? Don't be shy 🤭🤭 I also like the idea of. Pretty morally gray Madrigals. Maybe even power humger like the Dazzlings. Mfs WILL be adored❗❗❗

They're so...😔

#my asks #my asks are open #encanto #encanto au #au #encanto mirabel #encanto alma #encanto julieta #encanto pepa #encanto bruno #the dazzlings #mlp #the dazzlings mlp #mlp au

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leathfaic · 1 year

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so soap fell first. but ghost fell harder.

the moment it clicks he knows he's done for. know he built walls around himself for ages and soap just blew them up like he did the oil rig. finds himself groaning at the thought of johnny's expression at that. later when he stitches his arm up he feels like he's committing a sin every time he touches him. because it's not just tactical now, is it? no it's more. he makes himself go on as usual but it's like a beacon has been lit in the empty cavity of his chest. every time the damn scot enters a room it flares up and ghost is sure every one must know.

soap knew from the moment they met on the tarmac that ghost was going to haunt him. he's aware of the irony. but in between that first mission when his crush hit him like a slap in the face and now a lot has changed. now he's guiding his lieutenant through the prison complex. everything in him is drowned out by the single desire to get ghost safely through this. everything in him tenses when ghost is almost spotted. everything in him is suddenly hot when he sees the brutal efficiency that is ghost with a gun and a knife. when he steps away from the screen to head out with rudy, he knows.

and they might have done something about it in the adrenaline addled state after battling through the prison. might have hugged again like they did after las almas. both unable to just leave it at that. but there was price, revealing what laswell had learned. then there was shepard and a compound to be taken back.

ghost shows his face, shows it to johnny, wants him to see because there is that vague hope that some of those lingering looks might mean more. the rest of them don't matter, not when johnny's eyes are on his the whole time and he sees that tiny smirk on his stupidly handsome face and knows that johnny can see the matching one on his.

things move fast after that. no time to talk. even on the flight to chicago, they sit next to each other like always, but soap just exploded a fucking tank and he collapses almost instantly. ghost is exhausted too, had steeled himself for a conversation but realises it's not gonna happen right now. both falling into dreamless sleep. price smiling as he sees soap's head resting on ghost's shoulder. almost tempted to take a picture when simon's head slowly comes to rest on soap's. he's had a feeling they'd work well together.

it's chicago then that changes things irreversibly. soap again alone, without a weapon but not unarmed. ghost in his ear making him deadly and desperate, he's got to get out of here. he needs to tell him.

it's ghost who feels helpless during the whole thing. resigned to watch from buildings away, glimpses of the wild chase that goes on as johnny takes care of the missile and then of his enemies. he doesn't think he ever felt more sick after taking a shot then after the one that saves soap's life. all too aware of what he almost lost again.

"i think i need another of those hugs lt..." johnny sounds smaller than usual, his voice trembles.

as if ghost could deny him anything. as if he wants to deny him anything.

he makes his way back, but keeps the line open. keeps soap with him until someone finally gets him safely out there. promises him his hug. and with his brain still running on adrenaline promises him everything else he might want from him.

this embrace is different. neither of them is willing to let go. soap's heart is still pounding. simon's starts racing again the moment they collide.

when they finally break apart there is a short, wild moment. eyes lingering and faces too close. a moment that would result in a kiss if there weren't marines and other team members standing all around them. instead there's that smirk spreading on soap's face again, and he doesn't need to see this time to know that ghost is mirroring it.

#ghostsoap #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #soapghost #johnny soap mactavish #cod #captain john price #john soap mactavish #cod hc

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reds-skull · 1 month

Text

BLOOD||HUNGER

[PREV PART] [AO3]

The finale! Post script will be uploaded right after this, fair warning it's a damn long one lol

Thank you for reading this far, this chapter is called "Where All Permanence Rests". Enjoy!

Edit: I forgot to add the final poem before, it's fixed now!

Page 67 of the “Blooede Starvatfōre-dēde”, parable 18:

The village people, hearing of the hunter’s fall, Find before them, the Blind man and the Beast, Yet they do not look with malice, they do not fear, As the veil has been taken away, their eyes see truth, That this is no Beast, but a man. The Beast, the Cursed Man, He does not rejoice, for the Blind Man has seen him justly, When all saw a monster.

Isla,

I don’t think I’ve ever written an actual letter, like this. Certainly not in circumstances like these. But this is the most secure way to contact you. I shouldn’t talk to you at all, if we’re being honest, but… I couldn’t just leave without a word.

In the following weeks, or days (depending on when this letter will reach you), you will receive news that John MacTavish is dead. And for all intents and purposes, in all ways but physical, I am dead.

I’m writing this to apologize, and to thank you.

Simon never thought he would return to Mexico by his own volition. Even before Soap, he refused to take jobs anywhere near Central America.

Only Johnny could give him enough strength to be here.

It also doesn’t hurt that they’re not here to fight the cartel.

“déjennos en paz!” a man screams further down the cobbled street. ‘Leave us alone.’

From the American-accented shouts that follow, the man’s pleas are ignored, “donte esta el Irani?!”

A woman joins the man, screaming that they don’t know. Simon continues sneaking past dark roofs. They can’t afford to attack just yet - their target has far too many soldiers in their disposal at the moment.

A couple of shots ring out, making his steps falter. The woman screams in anguish. He closes his eyes, attempting to not sink into the familiar embrace of cold indifference, like his instincts tell him to.

Being more than a weapon has its downsides.

“Ghost?”

“Johnny. Solid?” Simon answers on their private comm line, his partner’s voice relieving some of the uncomfortable ache cinching at his guts.

“Aye. Think I can see ye.”

He looks around for a moment, finding the red skull mask across several rooftops, crimson barely visible in the low light, “did you find any sign of the Vaqueros?”

Simon can almost feel Soap’s frustration from here, “negative. Only thing Ah’m seeing are American bastards and fucking corpses.” he grunts, “feels like the Hunter all over again…”

“Focus, Sergeant.”

“I am, LT.” he watches Soap’s form disappear between buildings, “gonna get on the ground, search for anyone we could rescue.”

“Copy, I’ll keep an eye on Graves.” Simon clicks off, knowing they both need the silence.

I’m sorry I couldn’t be a better brother to you. That I couldn’t take my head out of my arse and simply live a normal life, be normal. I think I never learned how to. But you deserved better. Could you tell maw I’m sorry as well? I don’t think I’ll make it to Christmas in the next… However long I have left to live.

Don’t worry about me (I know you always do, and always will), this is why I wanted to thank you.

After you called, on the day I got the notice of the eviction… I realized I couldn’t do this anymore. Couldn’t pretend I was fine, couldn’t keep this same, soul-crushing monotony, day in, day out.

Laswell contacted them two days ago, asking them to land in Las Almas and keep an eye on an American PMC called “Shadow Company”. They came to Mexico to collaborate with Mexican Special Forces to capture an Iranian and his stolen missiles. On paper, the citizens of Las Almas shouldn’t have been involved at all.

Graves and his Shadows move to another building, where several men have been rounded and lined up against a wall.

Reality never seems to match what’s on paper, when it comes to wars.

The Shadows lift their rifles, and shoot the civilians.

They don’t know what made Graves turn. But that’s not Simon and Soap’s job to figure out. Their only interest is to minimize civilian life loss and rescue the Vaqueros, the Mexican soldiers the Americans betrayed.

A weak voice on the other side of the block catches his attention. Simon makes the split second decision to take his eyes off Graves and investigate.

“No- let her go!” a woman, a mother, screams at a Shadow ripping a child away from her.

The kid in his arms cries, “Mommy! Mommy!”

“What do you think you’re doing, I’m with the police-!”

Simon catches another soldier moving to shoot, and in a flash, he takes hold of two throwing knives, and buries them deep within the Shadows’ throats.

The policeman and his family look at the soldiers fall with horror and confusion. Simon jumps down, revealing himself.

“Find a vehicle, and get out of the city. The Americans are not going to stop until they find what they want.” he grounds, staring at the cop’s eyes.

The mother asks shakily, “what- why are they doing this-?!” but the cop pushes her and the child, nodding grimly to Simon.

He climbs back up not a moment later. A voice in his mind tells him this maneuver might’ve costed him his cover, but alongside it, Simon doesn’t feel regret. He has learned to appreciate any win, no matter how small. And for those people, it is not small.

So I ran. I can’t tell you to where. I can’t tell you what I found there.

But I can tell you who I met. He’s… fuck, how could I describe him?

He was such a cunt at first, you would’ve ripped him a new one. But I learned he was also running away, in his own way. That he’s been running for a long, long time. And when I met him, when we actually started working with each other…

I felt like I was alive for the first time in a year.

“Ghost” Johnny startles him from thought, “found a Vaquero. Yer…?”

“Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra. Who are you?” a farther voice barely comes through the radio.

“Soap. Laswell sent us.”

“Kate Laswell? Are you with Shepherd?!”

Simon grinds his teeth, “we’re not under anyone’s command, Parra. Not military.”

“You’re… you’re mercenaries?” he can hear Parra curse under his breath, “is it just you two?”

“Aye” Soap answers, “Laswell hasn’t burned ye yet - she asked us to help ye.”

The Sergeant Major seems to sigh in relief, hopelessness coloring his next words, “I’m glad. Though… no.”

He sounds more assured when he speaks again, “my soldiers and Colonel have been captured by Graves. I’ll need any help I can get to rescue them.”

“You got it.” Simon rumbles, “any intel on their location?”

“Negative. Alejandro has a safe house outside the city, I might be able to find out if we get there.”

“Alejandro?” Soap asks.

“My Colonel.” Parra says, noticeably sadder than before.

“We’ll get him back, mate.” Soap attempts to comfort, “Ghost, still got eyes on Graves?”

Simon internally grimaces, “...negative. Had to help some civvies.”

He didn’t expect the pride in Johnny’s voice, but in hindsight he should’ve, “understood. Ye see the church tower from here?”

Simon looks at the far distance, a tall building lit by an orange glow towers over the city, “affirm. Lets RV there.”

“Aye. Keep yerself safe.”

“You too Johnny.”

I don’t know how, but I have the feeling me and him were meant to meet. Not in a soulmate kind of way… I’ve been feeling things like that a lot, since I ran. Like this is where I would’ve always ended up being.

You will not meet me again, most likely. Me and him… Just our presence will put you in danger. There’s a reason they had to kill us both on paper. Can’t tell you what we’re doing that required that, but you know I was never one to stick to things like “rules” and “laws”.

We’re not alone in this, we have allies, people that want to do good, but are stuck in a system that refuses to change to do that good. I wish you never experience the amount of evil truly festering this world, and we are fighting so you never will.

He begins combing the streets for Graves’s trail, mostly tuning out the conversation between Soap and the Sergeant Major. From what he does listen to, Graves’ betrayal seemed to come out of nowhere - they had successfully disarmed a missile not a day prior, having interrogated a cartel lord who aided the Iranian.

They were so close to finishing the mission. Which is why, when the Shadow commander turned around and stabbed them in the back, only Parra managed to shake off the shock and escape.

Graves is still on the hunt for the Iranian, convinced he’s hiding in Las Almas, while also searching for Rodolfo. It won’t look good for business if he can’t wrap up things cleanly, Simon muses darkly. He had enough encounters with PMCs in the past to know how they operate.

He eyes a group of Shadows standing around a couple of fresh bodies, all seemingly focused on their comms.

After a few moments, one of them answers to whoever is ordering them, “I’m here with a few others, sir, we can go search the area for the Mexican.” the soldier pauses to hear the response, “yessir! Let’s go, they spotted him at the northern plaza!”.

The group instantly starts sprinting, Simon following while radioing to Soap, “Johnny, Shadows heading to the northern plaza, said someone saw Parra!”

He hears the Sergeant Major through Soap’s comms, “mierda!”

Simon has to jump over an alley when the roof he’s been running on ended, “I’m on my way to you, can you hold them?!”

Soap huffs in a way that tells him he has something up his sleeve, “we’ll smoke up the plaza, they don’t know Ah’m here.”

He can just imagine Johnny’s sharp grin under his mask, “going undercover, hm? A man after my own heart.”

“Always, Simon.” Johnny whispers, just for his ears. Simon ignores the way it makes a shiver go down his spine.

Up ahead, a plume of smoke rises between buildings. Soap leaves his comms on, letting Simon hear how Johnny takes hostiles down one by one, going quiet until his cover is blown.

In the streets below, more and more soldiers funnel towards the plaza. Simon grits his teeth, pushing his legs to run faster. He will not let Johnny enter a losing fight, not if he can help it.

The shooting abruptly stops, making his heart still. A few moments pass before he can hear Soap’s voice growling, “let him go.”

He can hear the Shadows laughing, a churning noise grating on his ears. Simon slows, keeping to the swaths of darkness.

A half circle of Shadows formed in the plaza, Parra and Soap facing them. In the center, a shadow holds a pistol to a young boy’s head.

Simon doesn’t even attempt to swallow down the disgust that rises in his throat.

“No can do, pal. Drop your weapon and give us the cowboy, or the kid gets hit.”

He drops behind the Shadows, knife slipping down his sleeve silently. With careful steps, he closes in on the center soldier, while Parra curses at them.

Over the soldier’s shoulder, he meets Johnny’s eyes. With no words, they communicate. He waits for Soap’s signal, watching his Sergeant lower himself. To the Shadows, it seems like he’s bending down to place his SMG on the ground, but Simon can almost feel the tension coiling within Soap’s muscles, readying himself to fight.

“Alright, Alright!” Soap shouts, “I’m dropping my gun, just let the boy go.”

Johnny nods minutely. Simon strikes.

In a motion he’s done a million times before, the knife swings in an arc before burrowing into the Shadow’s neck. Simon doesn’t waste any time pushing the body aside, grabbing the young boy and pulling him back.

Soap snarls, righting his gun and spraying bullets to his left, clearing a path for him to take the kid and shove him into cover.

He swings around, ducking under a hostile’s incoming knife, unsheathing one of his own and easily stabbing it into the underside of his jaw. He throws it at another attacking soldier, noticing Soap and Parra being pushed back into a corner.

One of them gets the jump on Soap, the two falling to the ground in a struggle. His heart leaps to his throat, where it shouts, ‘Johnny!’

Simon takes a rifle off of a body, inhales to steady his breath.

Focuses his rage on the targets and shoots.

He drops the gun, rushing to Soap. The bodies on the ground don’t move.

A fast-paced chant screams in his mind ‘where is Soap is he broken is he dead have you failed him-’

“Ngh… Steamin’ Jesus, this fucker’s heavy.” Johnny grumbles, shoving the body covering his off.

Simon stares at him for a moment, before dropping to his knees and pulling him up. He searches for injuries on Soap’s body before two gentle hands stop him.

“Ah’m good, mo chridhe. Solid.” Johnny’s hands don’t let go, instead caressing his bloody palms.

An unexpected wave of emotion crashes into him, filling his lungs with warmth. He doesn’t know if it was the split second moment where he thought Johnny might be dead, or the gentle way he’s now comforting him, somehow always knowing when he’s panicked.

Maybe it’s all of it, that makes Simon blurt out, “I love you.”

And Johnny, despite having the majority of his face covered, looks up at him with so much care, blue eyes almost glowing behind the red mask.

Those eyes crescent with joy, Johnny pushing his forehead to bump against Simon’s in affection.

“I love ye too, Simon.”

And Simon finds himself thinking, that this is what he was meant to be.

Fighter.

Human.

Loved.

I’ll be trying to write as much as possible, but if this is the only letter you’ll ever get…

Just know that if I died, I went down fighting, and I went down with him. And I couldn’t have been happier with the way I lived.

I love you so, so much.

-J.M.

Page 100 of the “Blooede Starvatfōre-dēde”, parable 20:

Where is your destination, now that the curse has been lifted, The Blind Man asks, with nothing but kindness on his tongue. I have no place to belong to, the once-Beast answers, Nowhere, but the path I walk with you, my fallen knight. Then we shall travel together, until we return to the earth, And perhaps, if God is to be so merciful, The paths we take will always, and forevermore, Be only by the side of the other.

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axelnyx · 2 months

Text

Desolation Part 6

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 previous part

can also be ready on ao3

Chapter 6: Stubbornness and Pride

Soap was walking towards Price’s office with a single goal in mind, the file he had printed and filled out clutched tightly in his hand. Anyone he passed in the halls looked at him in concern. How could they not? Soap looked like a mess. His hair disheveled, bags under his eyes, and he seemed to walk favoring one side over the other. Soap paid no mind to his fellow soldiers’ concerned looks as he grew closer to Price’s office. He knew the office was locked, Price always locked it when he was off base, but there was nothing stopping Soap from sliding the file under the door. Well, almost nothing.

“How’d I know you would try to come up with some stupid plan to get out of doing what Price told you?”

Soap was snatched from his thoughts at the sound of the voice. He sighed in frustration as he saw who spoke to him. “Laswell,” he greeted. She was leaning against the door to Price’s office, arms crossed over her chest and a look of disappointment on her face. “Soap,” she replied, not unkindly. “What’s that you’re holding?” she asks, nodding her head towards the file in his hands. “Somethin’ for Price to read when he gets back,” Soap responded. “That so?” “Yes.” “Well I can hand it to him when he gets here. It would be a hell of a lot easier than just sliding under the door.”

Soap took a step back from Laswell. “No.” Laswell sighed. “Soap, listen,” she started, “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you’ve got everyone worried.” A stab of guilt shot through Soap, causing him to feel a bit sick. “They don’t need to.” he replied softly. Laswell rolled her eyes. “It’s our job to look after you, Sergeant.” And with that the guilt Soap felt vanished. “Right,” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm, “I must have forgotten.” “I didn’t mean it like that Soap,” Laswell said softly. Soap pauses for a moment, slightly surprised before he scoffs. “Whatever you say, Laswell.”

Laswell sighs. “Let’s just get you to medical,” she says, taking a step towards him. Soap takes another step back. “I don’t need to go to medical.” he replies. Laswell’s look of disappointment increases. “Your breathing says otherwise.” And sure, she wasn’t necessarily wrong, he did sound pretty bad, but he had it handled. “I don’t need to go to medical.” he repeated. Laswell sighed again. “Soap-” she started but, before she could get anything else out, Soap turned and started walking back to his room. “Where do you think you’re going?” she asked, starting to go after him. “Follow me and we’re gonna have a problem, Laswell,” Soap said through a clenched jaw. Laswell stopped, unsure of what to do as she watched Soap walk away.

When Soap made it to his room he pushed his door open harshly, causing it to slam against the wall with a loud bang. He was pissed. Everyone kept ruining his plans. All he wanted to do was spend his leave on base and be left alone. He could handle a couple bruised ribs on his own. He didn’t need to be coddled like some child. Especially not by people who only care because it’s their job to.

Soap took a deep breath, despite how it made the ache in his ribs worse. He thought for a moment. If he couldn’t leave the file in Price’s office, then the man would just have to find it here, in Soap’s room. Not like Soap would be here when Price stopped by anyways.

Soap placed the file on his nightstand before heading towards his closet on the other side of the room. He opened the closet doors and grabbed his empty duffle bag from the floor of it. Soap then went through his entire room, grabbing whatever he thought was most important for him to take. He paused as he saw the knife that he had found in Las Almas. It was Ghost’s. Soap had expected the man to demand it back, but he never did. In fact, when Soap had tried to return it to him, Ghost had simply shook his head and told him he could keep it, that he had enough knives to last him a lifetime and losing one wasn’t that important to him.

Soap shook his head to clear it before picking up the knife and placing it in the duffle back as well. He gave one last look around the room and zipped up his bag, deciding that he had everything he needed. He quietly left his room, looking around to make sure no one would see him. When he saw no one was around he gently closed his door, making sure to lock it behind him. It wouldn’t do much to prevent his teammates from realizing he’s gone, but it would slow them down just a bit.

Soap walked down the hall, making his way to the nearest exit slowly and quietly. It didn’t take him long to get there. He knew the base like the back of his hand. Soap cautiously made his way outside.By now, the sun was beginning to set. Meaning that most people were either heading to bed or eating in the mess hall. There was a fence that surrounded the base and beyond that was a dense woodland area. However, Soap knew where a weak and unguarded spot in the fence was. He also knew that just past the woods there was a small town. All he had to do was navigate his way there and then he could stay in a local hotel for the night. He would just have to move on in the morning to avoid his teammates catching up to him. If they even come after him that is.

Soap made his way to the weak area of the fence. It was located towards the back of the base, mostly hidden from sight. He and Gaz had found it after a particularly stressful mission. They were both exhausted and wanted some sort of break from everything. They had decided to walk around the base together. Talking about anything they wanted or nothing at all if they didn’t feel up to it. Gaz had been the one to spot the flaw in the fence. They had debated telling someone, but they were desperate to get away for a bit. So, together they made their way through the fence and into the woods. They stayed out there for hours just enjoying each other’s company.

Soap shook his head to push away the memory. He’s sure the security cameras have seen him, but it doesn’t really matter. Once he’s off base and Price reads the file Soap left for him, then Soap is no longer the 141’s problem. It would take a few days for the paperwork to go through, but after those few days Soap would return to base. He wouldn’t stay long, of course, just long enough to grab whatever else he needed and then leave.

Soap made his way through the fence, making sure that it wouldn’t rattle behind him. He then turned towards the woods and began to walk. If he made good time, then he should make it to the town around midnight. It wasn’t too far away. He could make it.

That’s what he told himself anyways.

#john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #mw2 fanfic #cod mwii #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #modern warefare ii #tf 141 #task force 141 #kate laswell

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captain-mj · 1 year

Note

The soapghost amnesia was *chefs kiss* but could we get just a little graves price amnesia?

Either graves thinking he's still under Shepard's command or price waking up, seeing graves and thinking he and his boys are in shadow company's "detainment" and all that entails?

I chose Price because I think his is more fun. Apparently high fevers can cause amnesia! The more you know.

Price had an illness the past few days. It was abnormal for a number of reasons, both in the fact that Price got sick in the first place and how bad it had gotten. His fever went well over 101 degrees and stayed there a while before breaking. The med staff was afraid he might have a seizure which made Graves's nerves even worse than they had already been.

But around day four, it started to break. Price was either unconscious or incoherent most of the time, but that was expected. Graves stayed with him mostly. They had him drinking green tea mostly, hoping to keep him hydrated. He had let it cool quite a bit before having him drink it though and even dead to the world, Price still grimaced at the lukewarm tea.

Graves tried not to laugh at the scrunched up face he made and Price managed to finish a cup. He'd need to go make more. If it wasn't for the fact he knew Price would glare at him, he'd just make some iced tea so he wouldn't have to individually make each cup.

Could you make iced green tea?

Graves thought about it. Black tea can be iced no problem. He saw no reason it couldn't.

Price jerked away from him suddenly.

"You okay?" Graves perked up, excited. This was good! If he could move around, he must be doing better.

"How..." Price's voice was hoarse and rough from disuse.

"Don't worry about that. You've been sick." He went to gently push Price back down and nearly got punched for his efforts. The only reason he didn't get hit was Price's bad aim and slow movements.

"Get... away..." Price started to cough hard, nearly doubling over.

Graves stared at him for a moment, not really sure what to say, what to do. Could he do anything?

"Where's..." Price was having trouble breathing and Graves just... stared. He wished he had been able to convince Price to move to the medical wing instead of his bedroom. Maybe the nurses would get it. Be able to explain what was happening.

"Where's Kyle and Simon and Johnny..."

First names. Weird. It took Graves a minute to even realize who Simon was.

"They're here. They've been worried about you."

"If you hurt them I swear to God." Price tried moving and almost doubled over. His breathing got even hoarser and Graves stepped back.

"I'm... I'm gonna... The nurse." Graves ran. He felt like a coward but he ran. The nurses went in and tried to reassure Price but Graves could hear his distress. He stayed in the base's approximation of a living room and stayed there. It was hours before someone came in again.

Gaz frowned. "Why aren't you sitting with Price? He okay?"

"I don't know. The nurses are with him I think. You should go visit him."

"Are you alright?" Gaz looked hesitant, but his adopted dad was sick so it made sense.

"Yeah, he just... He acted weird. I don't..." Graves hadn't eaten and now that he was thinking about it, he hadn't even drank anything. A headache was starting to build at his temples. "I'm sure he'll feel better once he sees you."

Gaz nodded. "I'll let him know you're worried if he asks."

"Don't. I think it would be better if we wait for a while." Graves looked up at him.

"Alright. I won't. Though, you don't look so good. Make sure you're not getting sick either."

Graves nodded and eventually got up to make himself some coffee. He didn't want to eat. Sounded like too much work.

Eventually, a nurse came to him. She was one of the ones that he had been most familiar with.

"Fevers can cause amnesia. It's not exactly common, takes a high fever, but that's all this is. It's temporary."

Graves felt the floor fall from underneath him. "He doesn't remember me?"

"He does. He remembers until Los Almas. He knew who you were." She looked a little unsure, like she wanted to comfort him but didn't have anything to tell him. "He'll remember soon. Just give him time."

"Should I go to him?"

"He's asleep. Now might be the best time actually."

Graves nodded and took his coffee and sat next to his unconscious beau. He watched his gentle breathing.

Price thought he was a monster. Thought he'd hurt his boys.

Graves didn't take offense to it. They had been on opposite sides of the war at the time. But he didn't know how to tell him they had moved on from that. They were together. Had rings. Maybe they weren't married, neither had the time, but they had rings. He called him his beau and Price called him his love. It had become a joke around the base that Graves never lacked hickeys. Right now he did, Price having been too sick to even kiss.

Graves really wished he'd kiss him now.

Price looked up at him and stared at him. His breathing got a bit harsher but he didn't do much else. He started to sit up.

"I'm not going to do anything." Graves choked out. He wanted him to feel comfortable again.

Price stared at him. "I saw Kyle. Are the nurses with your shadows? Didn't know mercenaries needed a hospital."

"They're your nurses."

"I'd hire nicer nurses." Price grumbled and stretched, groaning softly and face scrunching in pain. The fever must've made him sore.

Graves laughed softly. "I think seeing me freaked out made them a little upset. They've been very nice." He should leave. No point riling Price up. "Do you want me to get one of them for you?"

Price glared at him immediately. "Don't touch them." He tried to move but ended up falling back against the blankets. His hair stuck to his face, soaked with sweat. Graves had kept a shirt on him, mostly because he didn't think he'd want to be seen by all the nurses, and it was also soaked.

"Do you want a new shirt?"

Price nodded a little. "How did you get in my room?"

Graves ignored the question to get him a shirt. He hesitated. "Let me help you."

"Why?" Price huffed at him. "Like seeing me like this asshole."

"No. I don't." Graves grabbed the bottom of his shirt and lifted it over his head. "There you go."

Price grumbled more but he must've realized he was too weak to fight him. Graves put the new shirt on him. "There. Feel a little better, beau?"

"Bow?" Price frowned and fell back into the bed.

"It means handsome."

"Don't flirt with me." Price whined. Graves thought it was just a little cute. Just a little.

"Not flirting. You're just hands-" Graves paused. If his kidnapper made these jokes, he'd be worried. Maybe best to put those to the side. "Alright. No flirting." He instinctively went to push the hair back from his forehead, but he didn't want to scare him. And Price did look so scared. His eyes were glassy but so nervous, glancing everywhere. If Price was in a better state, Graves wondered if he would've killed him. If this had been different circumstances, if Price had hit his head instead, or just wake up like this, would he be dead? He had seen the way Price killed men with his hands. The idea of those hands around his neck...

Graves shuddered and pulled away from him. "I... I um.."

Price continued to stare at him and for a moment, Graves quickly sat back down.

"We were in Los Almas. What... How did you get us to Britain?"

"We flew. We're in your base. You're safe."

Price narrowed his eyes. "Something's wrong here."

"You forgot some things. You're going to be okay, just... need to relax."

"Did you drug me?"

"No. I'd never hurt you, John." Graves mumbled and watched him.

Price frowned and slowly relaxed. "Gaz told me you were worried. Thought it was odd." He noticed the rings and spun his around his fingers.

"I'll leave, if you want."

"Please."

#cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #Phillip graves #John Price #Captain John Price #Price x Graves #Graves x Price

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cod-z · 2 months

Text

[NSFW 18+] GB!141 Series (Anon Reveal)

Your media consumption isn't my responsibility | TW: NSFW 18+, Title itself explanatory

Pairing(s): GB!141 (+LV) x Reader

| One-shots | A/N: My anon reveal and brain-rot. For those who knows said story, yes, I am THAT anon from said blog

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

GB!Simon—Who would you have on a leash for disobeying off and on orders from her because she’s all about control, your orgasms are her orgasms. 100% you’re a pillow princess, no questions asked, but unfortunately it FEELS like torment. The way she would have you cum at least 3 times on her fingers before she even THINKS about fucking you with a dildo / strap-on. There might be even DAYS where she leaves you whining like a fucking bitch because she says so. Only time she’ll fix it is if you’re on your knees, crawling and begging her to fucking do you like the damn whore you need to be—

GB!Price—Who is more merciful than GB!Simon but would make you work extra hard for your orgasms, won’t do the work all on her own, you gotta grind on her FUCKING THIGHS— Cover it cum or your slick! Show this woman that you’re a good fucking girl/guy for her because she needs this power over you. 😩 Like Mommy Price? Please dominate me, tell me what to do! You need to be an empty headed soldier who can’t do shit without being commanded by her. Grind her boots, grind her thighs, use her to tongue how you want it but fuck- it’s not enough. You need HER to move the way she wants it to, how you NEED her to.

GB!Johnny—Who HEADLOCKS you into submission, will use dildos, strap-ons any toy she could get her hands on, 100% will treat you like a fucking mutt, it’s YOUR turn to be the mutt. Will praise you 100% but with degrading words. “Such a slut, but a good slut for me, yeah?” Has stamina for days! Will 👏 keep 👏 you 👏 in 👏 place 👏 FOR HOURS— till you can’t take it anymore. Till you’re brain fucked into tomorrow! Doesn’t matter how much you beg to stop, she’ll keep going to there’s a fucking puddle on the bed. Did I forget to mention she’ll fuck you anywhere and anytime? Price’s desk? Sure. Simon’s bed? He ain’t there. In the heli waiting for the others? Fuck yeah.

GB!Kyle—Who fucking teases you until the end, will edge you till you’re begging for her fingers, her mouth, her toys. 👏 She 👏 will 👏 edge 👏 you 👏 Change my fucking mind. She is unhinged the moment you bring her to your bed or vice versa. Like GB!Simon, you are the pillow princess but you won’t fucking cum till she says so because she wants to appreciate your beautiful body! She fucking loves it when you moan out her name, begging and crying for her to let you have your orgasm after being edged for an hour! You’re about to go crazy. Did I forget to mention she’ll even leave you for a bit just to un-horny you then once you’re down she’ll fucking make you horny again? SO EVIL— but she’ll let you cum once she makes sure her name is the only thing in your mind before fucking you good and proper 😩🤌

GB!Alejandro—who treats you like a goddess, beck and call on good days, appreciates and caresses your body behind closed doors and loves to hear you whimper her name. Call her mi alma, she’s on her knees eating you out no questions asked, she’ll let you come whenever and however you want. She’ll fucking spoil you because you are her world, she can’t say no to a pretty thing like you.

…On her bad down days? She is grinding on you like you’re fucking dancing on the dance floor, though you have no clothes on and she’s practically overstimulating you, degrading you with both spanish and english words, doesn’t matter if you don’t understand. YOU know that she’s saying something so filthy it has you creaming on her tongue, the single dildo she bought for you that just stretches you out and hits the deepest spot because she loves to spoil her little whore too 😳 She’s not letting you off that bed because she needs you, she owns you right now and to damn hell she’s not gonna let you go. Not until your hair is a mess, your legs shaking, you breathing quaking, unable to comprehend words of affection in the aftermath 🫢🔥

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notbecauseofvictories · 1 year

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Hmm any tips on surviving stuffy corporate/federal type jobs? Gonna be living on my own too so any advice on how to keep my soul from crumbling into shreds would be sincerely appreciated. I've been following you since you were in Philly and I've always admired how you articulated your thoughts, frustrated or otherwise, and kept hacking away at every challenge thrown at you.

This might seem like you're asking two different questions, but really you're asking the same question different ways:

How to survive a stuffy job that doesn't fulfill you? Develop a rich life outside of the office.

How to survive living alone, and not spiral into soul-shredding depression and isolation? Develop a rich life outside the confines of your own apartment.

In both situations, the answer is to find other places, other people, in which to invest your time and interest, such that you're not relying on your job or even your own self to provide 100% of what you need. (No one is unto themselves perpetual motion machine.)

I understand that from the perspective of a full workday and a nice, quiet apartment at night, interrupting that routine can feel like death. However, I promise, you will never be as miserable as when you try to stuff all your eggs in one basket. Your eggs were not meant for that! And the basket could be a job, it could be a single relationship (no relationship is meant to be 100% load-bearing) it could be just your own apartment and what's inside it at any given moment. However great a metaphorical basket is, it's still not a good idea to put everything into that one basket. You have to grab some more baskets! You'll be happier, surer of yourself, if you can spread out the eggs between multiple baskets.

This is a lot of work, but there's really no alternative. The nice part is that you can customize---I like book clubs, family, work happy hours. You may want to join a gym, throw yourself into online dating, or find a bar that plays your alma mater's football games. Maybe a side hustle is your thing, or creative work; maybe you want to play music with the local coffee shop band, or volunteer with a deserving charity. The ways to seek out more "baskets" is infinite.

But you do have to go out and find them. Because the job doesn't love you, and the apartment doesn't love you, and so you have to find things that will---or, if they won't, they'll at least give you reason to love yourself and what you can do, say, think, explore.

It's a process 🤷

#sarah gives advice #.....haven't used that tag in a while!#no wonder the company has to secretly manipulate you

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imrowanartist · 7 months

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So how are we all doing after that campaign? 😬

I for sure have my thoughts and opinions on it, but I’m not gonna bore y’all with that. Instead, I’ll just drop this little ficlet I wrote that ties into the end of the campaign.

Contains spoilers, obviously, but no other warnings beside fluff apply.

It was quiet when Rudy entered the medical center, the door sliding open softly as he let himself into the entry hall. Darkness had already fallen outside and the day shift had left, leaving only two nurses and the doctor on call.

Camila looked up from the nurses station at his presence, giving him a soft smile.

“Back again, major?” she asked, nodding at Rudy as he made his way to the hallway with the individual recovery rooms, kept for their most gravely injured.

“He’s my friend,” Rudy answered her, with a smile of his own that he was sure didn’t entirely reach his eyes, “I can’t have him feeling alone. Any change today?”

“He’s lucky to have you.” Camila told him, before pulling up a chart and flipping it open. “Still stable. He’s starting to show more response to external stimuli and the cranial swelling has gone down. I’m sure it won’t be long now until he wakes up.”

Rudy nodded, the news lifting some of the heaviness in his heart. It had been a week since they had brought Soap here. A week since he and Alejandro had gotten the devastating news that their friend had been shot multiple times, and that his life was hanging by a thread.

Rudy still didn’t know the full situation, a lot of it being classified and top-secret. Something about faking Soap’s death to keep him safe while he fought for his life.

Alejandro had offered to help right away, no questions asked.

Their medical center was state of the art and Soap deserved the best. Pulling some strings through Laswell’s contacts, somehow the 141 had managed to stabilize him enough, before flying him to Las Almas.

And for the past week, Rudy had been by his friend’s bedside every night, watching as, despite the odds stacked against him, John MacTavish had been stubborn enough to pull through.

As he entered Soap’s room, he could see Camila was right. Though the Scot still had a myriad of tubes hooked up to him, his skin already looked less pale than the day before and while he still needed additional oxygen, the breathing tube had been removed.

Softly, Rudy made his way over to the chair by Soap’s bedside. Before sitting down, he smoothed out the blanket tucked around his torso and gave the hand that rested on top of it a gentle squeeze.

“Hey, hermano,” he greeted, letting his eyes drift over the bandages wrapped around his friend’s chest and head for a moment, “heard you might be waking up soon. Hope you won’t be too mad they had to shave off your hair…”

Soap didn’t squeeze his hand back, he wasn’t conscious enough for that. Yet. But Rudy felt a slight twitch in his fingers anyway and couldn’t help but smile at it.

“Ale will be by later,” he said as he sat down in the chair, “he’s still finishing up some work.”

He grabbed the book resting on the little side table and opened it. “Do you want to hear another Sherlock Holmes story? We’re on the adventure of the speckled band, it’s one of my favorites.”

He watched Soap’s closed eyes, hoping to see some sort of reaction, but besides the steady up and down of his chest, there was nothing. One step at a time, Rudy reminded himself, as he searched for the right chapter and started reading to his friend with a steady voice.

He must have nodded off at some point after he finished the story, because the next thing Rudy became aware of, was the soft ding of his phone.

Blinking awake, he grabbed for it, squinting as the bright screen blinded him until his eyes adjusted.

A text from Ghost. Short as usual, it simply read how’s he doing? Smiling at his screen, Rudy replied A little better every day. Saw some movement today. Camila says he might wake up soon.

Ghost had been texting him almost every day, something that had come as no surprise to Rudy. He’d known something had been going on between the two Brits ever since he and Soap had shared some private conversation during a long night in a silent safe house. And over the past year, he’d gotten to be Soap’s go to person for relationship advice on several occasions.

Good. Keep me updated. Came Ghost’s reply. Three dots appeared, indicating that he was typing more. Then they disappeared and reappeared several more times until a short Thank you appeared.

To anyone else, it may not have seemed like much, but Rudy knew expressing himself did not come easy to Ghost and those two words held everything else he couldn’t say.

Always, hermano. Stay safe. Rudy sent back.

He knew they were still in the middle of their mission. Although he wasn’t sure if that was still about ridding the world of evil or if at this point it had turned into exacting vengeance on their fallen brother. Knowing Ghost it had likely become both.

But whatever happened, Rudy would make sure that Soap would be cared for. It was the least he could do for the men who had become his brothers.

He would make sure Ghost had someone to return home to.

#john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #rodolfo parra #soapghost #mw iii #call of duty #mw iii spoilers #ro writes

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callsign-bunnie · 2 years

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currently writing a long fic that is gonna be centered around rudy n ale ,, and in it i made rudy not originally from las almas. personally i think rudy is much more of ocean guy than a mountain guy <3 do u have an hc's for aledolfo and the squaad during a beach day?

Sure!

Rodolfo packed everything for the trip, because he’s the only organized one

He also drove, my mans needs a break

He makes Alejandro set up the umbrellas and giant beach towel, though

Price def has those like dad swim shorts and a hat just for the beach

Ghost wore a tee shirt but Soap managed to convince him to wear swim trunks so they could swim together

Soap has those damn speedo shorts and everyone makes fun of him but also everyone stares for a moment

Rodolfo, Alejandro, and Gaz just have swim shorts like normal people

If surfing is an option, Alejandro surfs, if not, he sunbathes with Rodolfo

Gaz and Soap hit a beach ball back and forth and manage to rope Alejandro and Rodolfo into water volleyball as well

Price and Laswell gossip about their adopted children

Laswell has one of those big sun hats and fancy sunglasses because she has class

If Valeria is there, she easily has the most expensive, fanciest swim suit and flirts with anyone who notices

She also brings a radio and plays music, but like good music

Price grills on those little public grill things, I dunno if those are a thing everywhere but they were where I lived so. Gaz helps him

Soap builds sandcastles, he’s actually pretty good at it. Ghost is impressed.

Ghost notices that Soap loves seashells and hunts for them on the downlow when no one is paying attention, ends up later dumping a fuck ton on top of Soap like “here”

Laswell makes everyone put on sunscreen. Alejandro, Rodolfo, and Gaz have a laugh that everyone else gets burnt by the sun. Laswell reminds them about skin cancer and they quickly put it on as well

Soap and Gaz def find a secret cove that they immediately try to show everyone. They end up not being able to find it again and no one believes them

Two separate seagulls attack Price and he curses at them for a solid 20 minutes, each

Soap deadman floats and gives Ghost a heart attack

Ghost doesn’t talk to him for a solid hour, afterwards

Rodolfo usually either sunbaths or lazily floats in the water. He’s a really good swimmer so he has life guard duty.

Gaz and Soap brought snacks and drinks so they disperse them

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trainwrecksys · 2 months

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ok!!!!!!!! i am!!!!!!! going to just say it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! long long post ahead!!!!!!!!!

yes i look like an out of touch stan with a victim complex for one character when i draw no one but bentham in my fanart and completely ignore everyone else to feel sorry for him and yes i am aware and no i dont know if anyone else sees this in me or im just paranoid but bro i am annoyed with myself !!! i hate how stannish i am sometimes because yes bentham had every reason to be called evil but yeah i had a good few reasons to have a complete breakdown when i read that in the book !!!!!!!1 too much writing under the cut about a lot of stuff that is in my head and needs to get out for better or for worse idk

i have made a severe and continuous lapse in my judgement and i do not expect to be forgiven but genuinely the way me being a stupid shameless stan can come off to others even subconsciously is actually important because it makes me look like someone who would see a situation like the bentham siblings' in real life and side with the STRAIGHT WHITE MALE who has made more than mistakes and hurt people in moments of heightened emotion (end of library of souls)- but like not in defense of bentham for ONCE IN MY LIFE everyone feels emotions everyone gets hurt and he had a right to not be perfect after everything he went through but that doesnt mean hurting people is the course of action and bro i have completely ignored that and skirted around it for two years and IM NOT GONNA KEEP APOLOGISING FOR MAKING THIS TOO LONG BECAUSE IT BLEEDS INTO REAL LIFE AND I REALISE HOW MUCH OF A STUCK UP DICK I COULD BE NOT ONLY ABOUT THIS BUT IN GENERAL LIFE AFTER I READ THE BOOKS AND GAINED AN ATTACHMENT TO BENTHAM

the stuff im talking about is honestly mainly between me myself and i and most of the art i post is him either chilling or feeling a bit sad but the way i completely ignore miss peregrine's issues and betrayal to focus on how oh so hurt and betrayed myron was like there was no reason he was exiled

like yes years in a big mansion with three people to keep him company in the middle of devils acre with no way to resolve his trauma can do shit to someone but what about years feeling his sisters guilt, BASIL????? what about how she mustve felt after both her brothers DIED due to their own hubris???????????? what about how she felt she was a bad sister when she literally had to be like their mother with all the baggage she had then actually mother children while thinking her slightly better brother might have been getting better with him saying he was gonna give them info on caul only to see him SIDE WITH CAUL when he had just done something that COULD HAVE HELPED HIS CAUSE and then spitefully capture her and lead them into the mouth of hell OH MY GOD

and how jacob and emma had to deal with his bullshit being all "lets talk over tea!" and waiting for when it was right in the exposition to tell them who he fucking was, then telling them he BASICALLY KILLED JACOBS GRANDPA while giving excuses and them finding out later on that hE KEPT THE SUUL FOR HIMSELF?????? i made some bullshit reason up why he did that for my headcannons but lets be real the only reason they could have at least imagined was that he was planning on using it in the library. the information betrayed them either way and to alma again it was only a stab in the gut because he hurt a guy who was basically her son

overall hes not some aesthetic victimised pookie bear hes a more than flawed man who only did some things to mend his image and cant be excused for what he did and this whole post was basically me shouting at myself

#which is on brand because #theres two sides of the argument living in my brain #and more than one me #mphfpc #now time to listen to music and ignore the fact i posted this #myron bentham

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mushpired · 8 months

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I’m back! And with a new chapter! This one is shorter, but I still hope y’all will like it!

I had trouble writing this, but I still like how it came out.

The idea of the permanent or semi permanent tear tracks is from another account here on tumblr, but I can’t find it, when I do, I’ll tag them!

5 times someone thought that something was wrong with soap + 1 time they realized that’s just how soap is.

3. Alejandro

“He makes no sound when he walks”

When he told this to Rodolfo, he thought he was just being paranoid, after all, all soldier are trained to make as little sound as possible while on missions. Some get so used to it, that they don’t make sound while on base, or at home.

Los Vaqueros had arrived to the 141 base some days ago. Captain Price, Lieutenant Ghost, and sergeant Garrick had been there to greet them, but the other friendly sergeant was nowhere to be seen.

He didn’t pay it that much attention, but after days with no glimpses from the Scott, he decided to ask Captain Price.

“ Captain Price, it’s been a while since I’ve seen Sergeant soap, is he currently deployed?” he asked after all, the young man had been of great help during the Las Alma’s mission, I’m not seeing him was quite weird since he used to always be socializing with everyone.

“ Sergeant MacTavish is on break on base, he has been feeling ill since we came back from another base” captain price said, his eyes, revealing that a simple illness was not the whole truth to it, but who was Alejandro to pry on it? So he decided to ignore it, if the sergeant wasn’t feeling well, he wouldn’t bother him.

It wasn’t until night, that he would finally see the man, and it earned him a heart attack!

He was in the common room, simply making himself a tea, when he felt a cold shudder and a whisper that made shivers go down his spine

“Would ye make me a cup?” The sergeant spoke in a low voice

He jumped

“Hijo de las re mil putas! Dios, hermano que mierda?!” He got so scared that he didn’t bother switching languages. He turned quickly to keep on shouting at the other man, but the moment he saw him, he immediately disregarded the idea

The man was covered from head to toe. A hoodie that obviously wasn’t his fell to his mid thigh, paired with some ratty and worn sweatpants and a jacket that was simply draped over his shoulders. He looked like he hadn’t seen daylight in a month

“Sorry hermano, didn’t expect you to get so surprised…” Soap spoke, but his voice was all wrong, too low, too scratchy, as if he had been screaming for a week, and when he saw his face, he almost punched himself. His face was covered in tear tracks that looked like scars, as if he was a sculpture, and the tears had been carved on his skin. His eyes were red, contrasting the normally beautiful blue. He truly looked terrible

“Ah, don’t you worry brother, was my fault, was not paying attention” he tried to talk as usual, so to not make the other soldier feel bad

“Thanks, so… what about that cup of tea?” He said, a small grin on his face, and a tiny light in his eyes “actually, make it two”

“Huh? Two? I was already making one for myself”he asked, confused at the request

“I know, one for you, one for me, and one for Ghost. Sir, you gonna come out?”

And as if he hadn’t been scared enough for a night, the big form of the lieutenant appeared from the shadows of the doorway, making Alejandro think that maybe the whole 141 was crazy

“You okay Alejandro, you look like you have seen a ghost?” Said the sergeant, now with a shit eating grin

“Haha, sergeant, you think you are so funny” said the bigger man, his covered face saying nothing, but there was an amused shine in his eyes

Deciding that he didn’t get payed to deal with this, he focused on making tea for the three of them, and prayed that there wasn’t another hidden somewhere

He heard the lieutenant asking the other how he felt, how he had been, if he needed anything and thought, ‘was I that bad before confessing to Rudy?’

He laughed silently at that

When the tea was ready, and he left the common room and the lovebirds alone, he remembered

The sergeant hadn’t made any noise when he entered the room.

He hurried to tell his lover that.

@swiftwaterprawn , you asked me to tag you! So here it is! Hope it doesn’t disappoint.

#ghostsoap #soap call of duty #soap mactavish #price call of duty #soap mw2 #soapghost #ghost x soap #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #banshee! john mactavish #banshee! soap

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alienaiver · 11 months

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Ummm I’m gonna go with!! 3 my lucky number and Kanda obvs. Thank u !! 🥰

my beloved bestie! 🧡✨ i could not write it any other way that i did because.... i didnt wanna give u angsty-angst bcos u and kanda deserve all good!!!!! u are so cute together i swear <333333

number three cashed out the sentence "just please open your eyes." ✨

it turned out to be 1.1k words and theres no real warnings except that there's a fight/argument between reader and kanda and he had a ..... special .. way of helping u emotionally. we love a strange little man!!!! ilysm!! i hope you enjoy and I APOLOGIZE AGGRESSIVELY FOR THE WAIT, i hope this is worth it !! 🫡🧡🧡🥰

”You can’t be serious.”

You’re seething with anger, warmth heating your cheeks and tears lining your lash line from the overwhelmingly growing frustration building up in you.

Kanda doesn’t spare you a glance from the couch where he takes a sip of his tea. You want to rip the cup from his hands and hurl it towards the wall. He knows that’s what you want to do – he wants you to try.

Calmly, he puts down the cup, with the little finger hitting the table first so it makes no sound as he was taught by Edgar.

“I am.” He answers cooly, leveling your stance with a glance in your direction. Your hands are clenched at your sides.

You’ve been holding in your anger for the past week, ever since getting fired from your job. No emotional reaction, no comments; Kanda hates when you hold it all in.

He knows the road paved to your emotions can be walled up though, so telling you directly to react will simply make you stubborn; make a point out of being just fine.

“That doesn’t mean you have the right to go and actively piss me off for a week straight!”

You’re yelling. Good. Kanda knows it’s about to hit. He’ll take most hits if it helps you, doesn’t even consider them hits, really. He prepares for more yelling, for punching a wall or the couch but what you end up doing is tremendously worse.

You turn around and walk to your shared bedroom. You don’t stomp, you don’t slam the door shut.

Kanda sits wide-eyed on the couch, confused. This isn’t like you; this is a reaction out of his scope of experience with you. Shit.

He fucked up.

Logically, Kanda knows this wasn’t the best route to take, that he sounds like what Lavi would call “red flag-ish”, but he prides himself in successfully getting to know you and your needs over the years you’ve been a couple. If he simply forces you, you will go the other way, refuse to mold into what people want – even if it is what you need.

Some emotions come for you, easier than they do for Kanda, but others do not. Kanda has through trial and error taught himself how to navigate what can often be considered a whirlpool of your emotions. But he’s gone left where he should’ve gone right somewhere the past six days. He’s not entirely sure where.

Kanda doesn’t like being reminded or becoming aware of his shortcomings so the anger he wanted you to feel just a few short moments ago, is suddenly bubbling up inside him for being too emotionally stunted to figure this out on his own. He refuses to call for help. Lavi and Allen would be of absolutely zero help – Lenalee and Alma on the other hand would kindly navigate the situation with him, however, the chance that either of the two are hanging with the two aforementioned idiots is way too high for him to risk it.

All there is left is to simply bite the bullet.

He gets up from the couch and stretches his back, feeling several joints pop into place. He doesn’t remember being this tense before he relaxed the muscles actively.

He won’t admit it to anyone, but he’s tiptoeing down the hallway, dreading the moment he reaches the door. He likes you the best when you’re at your brightest and bubbliest but he likes it the worst when you’re closed up – especially if it’s his fault.

With three concise raps, he announces his presence by the door. There’s no sound from the other side, so with furrowed brows he knocks again.

He’s rewarded with complete fuck all.

With a scowl he opens the door – the least you could do was answer him. He finds you wrapped up on your side of the bed, with your back turned towards him. He knows you’re not asleep; your routine is different than this plus it’s only been a few minutes.

He clicks his tongue as he rounds the bed to get to your side. Further proof that you’re not actually asleep is the way your face is scrunched up almost dramatically, to signal that you’re both angry and pretending. He shakes his head and pushes at your hips unceremoniously to make room for himself to sit on the edge. You let him without any complaints.

He sits there for a moment, silence falling heavy over the both of you. You’re clearly trying to control your breathing as best as you’re able, making it visible how performative it is. Kanda holds back from rolling his eyes.

“Stop acting like a child.”

You huff out a sound before pulling your duvet over your face – or you try to, but Kanda’s weight is stopping it by your chin. Maybe not the best way to start his apology, he notes.

“Get it together.”

You let out an imitation growl before you trash around to turn your back to him. He grabs your shoulder to stop you and sigh out, almost as dramatically as you’re being, “I’m sorry.”

It stops you from trying to turn away from him. Other than that, it doesn’t seem to do much else in Kanda’s favor. His hand that is still resting on your shoulder starts drawing mindless circles into it. He hopes it’s soothing; he wants to be soothing for you. He lets a few more beats pass before he talks again, “just please… open your eyes.”

You seem to listen to his plea, as you peek open one eye to scowl at him, “I won’t forgive you, dumbass.”

He can’t hold back the smirk. You have forgiven him by now if your reply is that. He leans down to kiss you but you pull back, “I don’t accept kisses from assholes.”

His face stays as close to you as you let him as he raises an eyebrow, “hm? That’s odd, given that you gave me a welcome home kiss a few hours ago.”

Your palm hits his face in a matter of seconds. He laughs and kisses your palm instead. You make a grossed-out sound and pull it back, “you’re infecting me with your dumbassery! Go away!”

He rolls his eyes but holds your hand, “if you’re already infected, I feel like you can give me a kiss anyways…”

You pout and huff out before you look at him, “be mindful next time you try to help me, okay?”

He nods, “I promise.”

You lean up the rest of the way and connect your lips. He’s happy he learned something new about you today; you’re his favorite thing to keep learning about, no matter how many years it’ll take. He’s looking forward to each and every one of them.

#for real hes the funniest little man by the time he settles with someone. SO sappy but also weird too #aaaaaaah. i want him to piss me off too fr #dgm x reader #d. gray man x reader #kanda yuu x reader #writing game #nohr.dgm #nohr.writing

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