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#Sorry i disappeared
noramsblog · 1 year
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Found family trope anyone?
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Hi!!
I am totally obsessed with your fics!!! Your writing 🤌💕
I just wanted to request a fic where the reader is new to the task force but she's experienced and tough. Vibez similar to Ghost to elaborate she's more scary than Ghost cuz of her past maybe she was experimented on or trained brutally....
Reader is working hard to prove herself even if everyone knows she's the most lethal person. So one time she gets injured badly while protecting someone from the 141( probably Ghost 👉👈) and she wakes up has an emotional moment Ghost comes know about her Trauma . More like hurt/comfort....
Happy Writing 💝
Guilt-Tripped
CW: Mentions/references of kidnapping, torture, canon typical violenece Hiii Anon!! First off, thank you! Secondly, I am so, so, so sorry for how long this took😭 I did make this a two parter, the first part is kinda like backstoryish and the second part will be the actual story. I was gonna wait until I finished both to post but you have been waiting for way to long so I'll give you the first part now instead of waiting, again I am so sorry! I hope you like it :)) Summary: F!Reader was a part of a special program(LMK if you can guess what it is) and once she was released she joined the military.
WC: 1467 As always, I didn't proof read so lmk if there are any mistakes :3
Life had not been kind to you. Ripped from your family at a very young age, you had never known the type of love and safety a nurturing home could provide. Instead, you grew up in the confines of a Russian base, with cruel instructors and a dwindling group of girls as your only companions.
From the moment you could walk, you had been told you were a weapon. A lethal force to be honed and trained, nothing more than a tool for others to use to further their games. Brainwashed, tortured, and trained into submission, a perfect puppet. Both your brain and body were sculpted into absolute perfection, a rigorous process most people did not survive. By day, they trained to be a lethal force, an unstoppable, unnoticeable, killing machine. At night, you were handcuffed to your bed, listening to the screams of students who did not make the cut.(to this day you sleep handcuffed)
You watched, at first in horror, then with a sense of detachment, as your friendsrivals bit the dust, unable to keep up with what the program demanded of them. It got better as you got older, less girls died from their tasks. But in some ways it got worse. It was a competition now, a fight to see who would remain victorious, to see who would come out on top. It was not a place for friendship and comradery, and you learned that quickly.
You stopped trying to make friends with the other students when you were forced to shoot your best friend in the head after giving her some of your dinner when she was being punished. You were 8. And you stopped trying to even just be friendly with the other girls at 10 years old, when the instructor broke every bone in your hands after your bunkmate framed you for something you didn't do. To this day your hands are not the same, always hurting and forever scarred.
Your world was kill or be killed, and you'd be dammed if you didn't come out on top.
And come out on top you did. You graduated top of your class, a position you had fought and killed for, won through bloodshed and pain. If you had a conscience, it would have been screaming at you for the things you had done to get to the top(You laid awake every night consumed by guilt and grief)
The program was disbanded(re: destroyed) when you hit 18, just two weeks after your 'graduation'. You were given two options: Join the American military, or face a life sentence in prison. 
You had a lifetime of sins to atone for, and knew there was only one way to even begin to ease your guilt. Two days later your background was sealed up and you were shipped off to boot camp. 
And you excelled. This was nothing to you. What was a six mile run when you used to run until you passed out, then wake up and keep going? What was surviving on four hours of sleep when sleep deprivation had been the norm your whole life? What was any of this compared to what you had been forced to do everyday since you were five? 
You scared your instructors. And the other recruits. And everyone else you came into contact with. And you were fine with that. You didn't like when people got close to you anyhow.
Love got you nowhere in the world. It was a lesson you learned hard and fast. You did not care for others, they did not care for you. And you liked it that way. Until you met the 141.
A woman named General Laswell came to you one day with a job offer. Well, not a job offer exactly, but more of a…transfer of positions. A small, (mostly)four-man team that she oversaw.
You had gotten disciplined for beating the ever-loving shit out of a recruit the week before, and Laswell had watched it all unfold. She went back to her office, read your full file, and decided you would make a good fit for John's team.
You took a look at your bunk, at the trunk that held zero worldly possessions, realized there is nothing for you here, and said yes. 
Price had not wanted a new recruit, and told Laswell as much. She simply said he had a penchant for picking up strays and left your file on his desk. It took him a week to actually get curious enough to read it. A paper copy, the only one in existence that had your full, undisclosed background. He pretended he didn’t see her smug grin when he hit accept on your transfer application. 
You had been trained since youth to fight and to kill, yes, but your true purpose was espionage. You were trained to study those around you, to lie, to mold yourself to the expectations of those around you. You excelled at fitting into your surroundings, at assimilating perfectly with your peers. It was all you were good for, in your opinion. So you asked Laswell for files on your new teammates. And she gave them to you. They were full of gaping holes and redacted information, but there was enough there for you to profile them. 
Soap would be the most receptive to you. He most likely would also be the one to not give up in trying to get you to be open with them. Gaz would be receptive as well, but you know that your sealed background would put him on edge, Ghost, well…Ghost was a lot like you from what you could piece together. Yet another person who learned that the world was cruel and unforgiving, who had learned the lesson that love does nothing but hurt. And because he was like you, you knew he would trust you the least.
You felt a small pang in your chest when looking at this masked photo that you hadn’t felt in years. Not quite sadness, but…pity? No. It was different, it was sympathy. It weirded you out. 
It was hard at first, joining the 141. You had court-mandated therapy you had had to attend, and you had slowly come to realize that some trust was good, necessary even, for life. You knew you wouldn’t be able to open yourself up to them, that you would never be able to feel the sense of brotherhood you had seen amongst other soldiers, but you wanted to try. 
It was harder than you thought it would be. Hard joining men who already had comradery, who had a bond that had been forged with blood, sweat, and tears. men who weren't sure how to fit another person, much less a female, into their group. 
As you suspected, Soap was the most receptive. He was fun, you thought. His Scottish accent and affinity for filling the silence made him a very pleasant conversationalist. You didn’t have to do any of the talking.
Gaz was wary of you, but did a good job of not showing it. As you suspected, he stopped inviting you out after you said ‘no thanks’ for the third time. 
Ghost didn’t like you. You could see it in the slight tensing of his muscles when you walked in the room, the way his eyes pinched when you spoke. 
It was a rough, rocky start, full of distrust and misunderstandings. Everything about you set his senses on high alert. They way you could sneak up on him completely silent, the way you could hold your own when you sparred with him, even the way you moved had his hair standing on end. It wasn’t until a mission that would have ended with Soap's death if you hadn’t risked your life to shove him out of the way that Ghost began to trust you. 
And then he began to notice something else about you. And the more he noticed, the more concerned he grew. He noticed the way you threw yourself into battle, what little regard you held for your own life. He noticed how you never instigated conversation, never gave away the slightest bit of information that could be used against you. Noticed that you always wore gloves. In fact, he's never once seen your hands.
His constant observations of you had an unintended side effect. The longer he watched you, the more he realized you were a lot like him, the more he was drawn to you. And vice-versa. 
You found yourself willfully seeking Ghost out, willingly sharing information with him. Nothing about your past, no, you would never tell anyone the things you had done. But little things, how you liked the food served this week, how your mission went, that your new pants were really itchy. And he told you things too. Told you really bad jokes, told you Soaps stupid Scottish saying of the week. And slowly you branched out, agreeing to go to the bar the next time Soap asked you, telling Gaz that you liked his new sunglasses. 
It was nice, having people who looked at you like you meant something to them. Having people who didn’t know what you’d done, people who didn’t look at you with disgust and distrust. It was nice to have…friends. 
So of course everything had to go downhill from there.
End scene :3 let me know what you think!!6 and be on the look out for pt.2, I hope you're ready for a buttload of angst >:) Also requests are open <3
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damianito · 1 year
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Kiss kiss fall in love ~♡
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propheticscrewup · 2 months
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places this at the main tags doorsteps like a cat with a leaf and scampers off
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rheiadear · 9 months
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this guy
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Hey.... Heyyyyyy.... How y'all doing.... take the Nimona headcanons that have been rotting in my notes app for the past four months
Ambrosius has kept track of the weirdest things he’s signed for a fan
At the very tippy top is a dinner plate a dog crate and a baby
And by baby I do mean living breathing crying baby
He tried really hard to find something else to sign but for some reason the parents were really insistent on it being their baby
And for some reason he did it
There are hundreds of photos of this infant with a signature on his forehead 
And that kid to this day will whip out his baby photos and show people that he was that baby 
Multiple knights (cough cough Todd) tried to recreate that situation but it didn’t have the same effect 
I feel like Bal gets really bad migraines (which kind of comes with the territory of using your head like a bartering ram) 
And when they do happen Nimona and Ambrosius do everything in their power to make sure that it doesn’t get worse 
I feel like Ambrosius is stupidly good at video games 
I have this little headcanon that books and games were kind of an escape for him
His own personal little oasis from being the golden child with a million expectations and responsibilities on his back 
He's not very good at playing with other people tho because he was always scared people would figure out who he was just based on his voice alone (and he’s not wrong for thinking that)
Nimona is also really good at video games (I mean she’s also half of the reason they were invented but that’s a long ass story) 
So because I’ve been away for so long I wanted to bless you with my friend's reaction to the movie
Just for some context tho it did take us months to finish because we all have work and school and we couldn’t see each other for a while so if I missed some stuff I’ll add it later
“Aw boyfriends” (When they were on the catwalk)
“Why are they so cute” “they’re literally my otp” and “they have cute banter” (The entire time before the knighting ceremony)
JB: “Oh she’s got Daddy issues huh” Me: “why do you say that?” JB “cause why else would she follow a man”(As they’re walking through the kingdom)
JB: “God what a fake fucking bitch I hate the way she talks” (As the director is scolding the knights)
“He knows him so well”(He hates freestyle jazz)
“It’s his boyfriend” “aw bae why’d you throw a smoke bomb at me” “look how frantic he is to find him” “he can’t shoot look at that face” (the entire subway/market scene”) 
JB: “I think this scene is curing her daddy issues and yours” (the alley scene)
(Same scene) KO: “why is he acting like it’s hurting him more?” Me: “Cause that’s his kid” KO: “wow this really is healing your daddy issues” 
JB: “What am I even watching?” “I fucking knew it she was such a fake bitch” (The squires video) 
“Oh my god he’s so embarrassing” “is he really jealous of a kid” “oh my god the director really doesn’t give a fuck huh?” “He didn’t say that out loud” “but does she?” “No” (Ambrosius freak out) 
JJ: “oh my god this is like Archane” Me: “shut the fuck up about Archane” (in my defense he kept mentioning Archane the whole time)
“If I could turn into a dragon I’d never turn back” “same I’d love to breathe cereal” (during the fight) 
“He’s so embarrassing why is he dying that dramatic” (proceeds to make fun of Ambrosius' “death” the whole time) 
“Did they really upload her confession to their version of YouTube” “is his account name really BalliSTAR?” “Why are they dancing?” “His username is Loins_of_gold? Why is he such a dork??” 
JB: “Awe nachos are totally their thing” “he remembered he’s allergic he still loves him!” 
JJ: “he’s a knight?” Me “have you been watching this movie with your eyes closed?” 
And then we freaked out about Ambrosius saying I love you and Bal not saying it back 
We said nothing when Bal pulled a sword on Nimona they kind of just sat shocked 
JB kept mentioning the flashback and after it happened all I said was “you wanted the flashback there’s your fucking flashback” while she sat in sad silence
They also just kept saying in shock “that’s her? That’s Gloreth” while I laughed 
We kind of spent the rest of the movie in silence until Bal and Ambrosius kissed at the end and then everyone collectively lost their shit
They lost their shit again when Nimona showed back up and JB went upstairs because even tho Nimona came back to life she was still sad
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nocturnal-stims · 9 months
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✨️ Faye Minerals on IG
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explosivecarbonjelly · 7 months
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Just breathe
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sleepyboywrites · 10 months
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Creepypasta with a s/o who pushes people away/is a runner
You don't want to cause problems in fact that's why you push people away and have a bag packed just waiting for the right moment.
Tw: miscommunication, mention of blow-up fights, physical/emotional abuse, manipulation
Eyeless Jack
• You better pray that you're running away from something, someone, somewhere else and towards him because otherwise you aren't getting far.
• Running from him will trigger his hunting instincts and you will be missing a few organs by the time you wake up with broken legs and tied to a surgical table.
• He might even harvest an organ or two of yours if you stop running up on sensing him regardless to ensure a part of you will always be with him and to ensure you're in too weak shape to pull that stunt again.
• He'll scream at you until you break down into sobs or scream back that you were trying to avoid issues.
• In the latter he'll probably freeze for a minute before screaming that you left him and all that did was cause problems.
• You will have to apologize for hours until he calms down. And then daily afterwards for quite some time.
• Expect to be restrained or clung to any walking moment. He can't have you leaving him again.
• Also expect to be treated roughly for the upcoming weeks because the likelihood of him being soft with you is slim.
• Think claws digging into your skin as he holds you to his chest or as you are walking around.
• If you push him away or start acting coldly towards him in an attempt to make him hate you then the opposite will most likely happen first.
• He'll start treating you as if you're made of glass. Checking in and asking how you're doing/what's wrong all while taking notes on your vitals he can sense as he does so.
• If this works and you talk to him then things will be resolved and your insecurities reassured. If not, you are on thin fucking ice.
• He'll try to be patient and calm. Essentially trying to lure you back in and keep you in a relatively happy healthy relationship and state of being.
• If these attempts fail however I suspect he would start mirroring your behavior. Acting as if he doesn't care and giving you the same treatment you've given him.
•He'll begin stirring in his insecurities and eventually he will become paranoid of you hating him and attempting to leave him. Then you'll be treated as if you had left him.
Laughing Jack
• If you think that you got away you didn't.
• More likely than not you are simply in an illusion as he tries to decide what to do with you.
•He could eat you. Or lock you up to make sure you are always by his side.
• What ends up happening depends entirely on how you're reacting to your so-called escape.
• If you seem happier than you were with him he will probably eat you or turn you into a permanent attraction to his circus, a nice new pinata if you catch my drift.
• However a few meltdowns and you'll most likely just spend a couple weeks with him in his realm until he's sure you won't leave for real
• Man's has abandonment issues and blatantly so. So if you do just run he's more likely to be hurt and angry and less concerned with your well being.
• In fact you won't be able to try and reassure him for a while because if you get too close he might accidentally kill you with three deep slashes from his nails in your abdomen as he screams at you to stay away.
• A lot of sitting across from one another as he stares or screams at you to the point where you may wish you'd actually ran away.
•Definitely the least stable in this situation. Think screaming one minute and whispering begging you to stay the next.
•Actively attacking you if you get too close complaining that you won't hold him the next.
• To be completely honest I don't know if you guys would ever get back to normal if you behaved this way.
• Additionally, if you tried to make him hate you by being cold, distant, and rude he would first try to cheer you up then if his efforts failed he'd try to comfort you but if both are unsuccessful he'd eventually start treating you the same and once that happens again you're in danger of him killing you because you aren't any fun anymore.
Ben Drowned
•One of the more gentle about it ones but don't let that get to your head.
• Once again if you thought you got away you didn't because this man is stalking you constantly even when you guys are in the best part of your relationship.
• That man is a screen behind you the entire time. It doesn't matter if you are traveling by horseback to an abandoned cabin way off grid he is hopping nearby towns rapidly because one day you'll need supplies.
• and He will find you the second you do and pull you into the digiverse with him which is where you'll live now.
• Unlike the others he won't scream or yell at you instead he'll essentially attach himself to you.
• Slinking his arms around your chest, shoulders, sides, waist, wherever he can get his hands and he'll stay there until you complain about the weight of his body dragging on yours in causing you pain.
• He may also alternatively carry you instead of clinging to your being otherwise after you complain or whenever he feels like it.
• The only signs of his anger at you leaving is if you ask to leave and go back to the "real" world, or if you complain about him clinging to you in any other way then "Ben this hurts" after a decent amount of time where you'd be expected for it to hurt.
• In which case he'll grip you tighter and glitch against you as he tells you that this is only happening because you left and this is the only way he can ensure you never do so again.
• Or if you've said enough to really piss him off he'll leave you alone in this blank digital void until you beg him to come back.
• If you try to explain yourself he'll either stop you by saying that it doesn't matter cause you'll never do it again or he'll listen in silence before clinging to you and telling you he's sorry he made you feel that way and any issues you have you guys can work out together.
Jeff the Killer
• least tolerant
• you're dead :)
• he killed you.
• Especially if you had been adjusting well previously because obviously you're a liar and never loved him.
• You can cry and plead all you want but it'll fall on mostly deaf ears.
• If you're lucky he'll just horribly mutilate you, thinking he killed you, but on further inspection you won't be dead and then he'll haul you back to the mansion and have someone fix you up.
• Once you're healed you'll most likely be thrown into a dungeon, locked up for "re-training."
• Where he will thoroughly break you into an obedient mindless husk of your former self with no identifiable personality.
• a pet if you will.
• His ass will not notice the signs leading up to your attempted escape. After all he talks so much he doesn't notice when you go silent and he is focused on anything but your emotions.
• While he saw something in you incredibly interesting his perception of emotions is wildly morphed after all he doesn't percieve emotions correctly himself. Pain makes him laugh and he finds what most find disturbing incredibly visually pleasing. That applies to you as well. Ie: you're tracing a scar from his knife he left on you with a frown he thinks you miss his blade against your skin or how passionate you two were when you both first met and will therefore bring out his blade or show you some passion.
• So he won't notice any of the signs and since he's finally allowed you to wander around with him instead of being chained somewhere if you run away regardless of the signs he will just be pissed.
• He'll act in a rage and horribly mutilate if not flat out kill you.
Homicidal Liu
• Much more tolerant than his brother but not necessarily less violent.
• I feel like Liu and Sully would give you a day or two to come back on your own. 2 if overnight trips had previously been allowed for you.
• If you don't come back however... 60/100 chance of survival.
• Survival chances depend entirely on which alter finds you and how you react.
• If it's Liu, so long as you run into his arms crying, apologizing, and explaining yourself after he calls out to you, you'll be fine but if you try to outrun him or make any moves away from him and you'll probably trigger a switch in which Sully will come out and I doubt you'd escape him unscathed or even breathing.
• If Sully finds you however you will have until he starts to talking to convince him not to kill you. One of the ways being if you run over to him and clung to him the second you notice him. It might trigger a switch to Liu and even if it doesn't Sully will dig his nails into your sides or hair and as he inhales he'll calm down enough for you to apologize. But if you try to explain to Sully before he's calm enough to discuss it with you himself, he'll call you a liar and slam your head into the nearest surface until you're limp and silent.
• Also if you try to interrupt Sully's monologue as he approaches you he'll choke you until he's finished but if you wait more than 3 seconds to speak afterwards he'll go "What!? Nothing to say!? You're worse than all of them who made us this way..." Before lunging at you and killing you with his bare hands watching your blood drip from your veins and the light fade from your eyes.
•If you survive they'll take you home, make you a meal, and then drag you to bed placing their entire body weight into you mumbling about how they hadn't slept since you left.
• They'll ask you about it after things have settled and your back with them where you belong. A week or so with the new rules in place.
• He doesn't want a mindless pet, the reason he likes you so much is because you make him feel like who he was before the accident, loved, and accepted. So they won't break you but they will restrict "privileges". Such as no more closing doors, public outings, or unsupervised times for the foreseeable future.
• If you try pushing him away you'll send him into a spiral.
• He's the most susceptible to this because he'll start feeling like you don't give two flying fucks about him after all and seeing as you remind him of before his traumas he may regress.
• You can expect several outbursts from Sully trying to hurt you or force you away from him because he's the trauma holder and by treating him coldly he's forced to relive some of his traumas.
Ticci-Toby
• You are his favorite person, and you left him. Tsk tsk reader, bad move.
• We also know his outbursts tend to be angry/agressive so chances are while attempting to pin you to something with his hatchet he might pin you to a tree through the square of your chest and you'll die. Therefore your best chance at survival is best if he finds your packed bags or comes back right as you were about to leave. Pray he's in a manic high and not a manic low.
• If you successfully start running away from him worst case scenario, he will chase after you and possibly accidentally kill you within 24 hrs, purely out of his blind anger and panic. He'll cry over your body saying it was an accident and he didn't mean to over and over until he calms down enough to bury you afterwards. Best case, he'll miss and you'll trip over his axe or he'll pin your pant leg to the ground. Then he'll take you home and your legs will be broken in such a way that you won't be able to walk without crutches ever again because how else can he ensure you're unable to leave him while still keeping the parts he loves about you the most.
• if you're really good at hiding and you manage to avoid him for a couple of weeks to let the crash really set in, you may be able to reason with him and survive essentially unscathed, though your insane if you think he's going to let things return to where they used to be, you aren't leaving his side ever again.
• if he walks in as you are leaving he'll either laugh at you and ask you what you think you're doing. Or he'll drag you back to him by your hair if he thinks you're leaving him and you don't walk yourself back to his side in a timely manner. Like see him, drop back, walk over, in that order within 10 seconds. Or a mixture of both.
• If he finds your packed bags it is going to cause a blowup fight. Think of him screaming, crying, throwing the shit you had packed around the house.
• or he'll drop your bag in front of you agressively in silence, which is when your best chance of talking about it arises. If you don't blowup fight will occur.
• Unlike some of the others, he'll notice the signs. If you try pushing him away chances are he'll first assume you're having a rough go of it and try to cheer you up.
• Then he'll assume he did something wrong or you guyd have a problem and start asking about it because as unhinged and unpredictable as he is, he generally tries to communicate. He doesn't want to end up anymore like his dad than he already is.
• though he may ask bluntly "What's up with you/us?"
• Regardless I recommend that you open up when he approaches you. Take the olive branch or suffer the consequences of him being upset and angry at both himself and you. More aggressive outbursts, cold behavior even when seeking affection, etc.
Tim/Masky
• He'll notice something is up immediately and start investigating it.
• He'll figure it out and fix it.
• And if he somehow misses it, he got too busy at work or his game was off a week, he will find out you're planning on leaving before you leave
• He found your packed bag and emptied it and when you repacked it later and he found it's new hiding spot he just took it.
• He'll see you as you're rummaging for your bag and hold it up in front of you and say "Looking for this, (y/n)? What were you planning, hm?"
• He'll then laugh at you as you sputter or if you lie and tell him nothing
• You will tell him one way or another. He assured you of that and informed you that it'll be in your best interest to just let him know now.
• If you comply he'll keep up his persona created specially for you and snuggle up to you spewing out words to comfort you.
• After all appearances are important to him and while to you it'll appear as nothing has changed he will be keeping closer tabs on you. Ie: you tagging along to paperwork work days and more cameras hidden in gifts. Maybe going as far as putting trackers on you.
• Anything else however and that will immediately drop.
• He'll lock you up for a few days and then ask again and this process will continue until you are honest with him but once he lets you out you will be expected to go with him everywhere that he goes.
• If you somehow still manage to run away you may get farther than you expected to just to be dragged back once you stop for the night or knocked out from behind and taken home only to wake up with a bruise and a cold cloth to your forehead as Masky goes "we need to talk" through gritted teeth.
Brian/Hoodie
• Knows something is wrong, doesn't know what, doesn't approach you about it because if it matters he expects you to tell him. If you're pushing him away he'll give you the space he thinks you're asking for to the best of his ability.
• Instead, he tries treating you as gently as he is capable and doing things to attempt to cheer you up. Ie: bringing home your favorite food, drink, trinkets that made him think of you. Offerings to you so you'll show different signs, ones of love, appreciation, wanting to stay.
•Even going as far as too avoid you when he feels an episode coming on.
• If you still try to run away I think his reaction would be a more even mix of upset than angry. He tried to encourage you to talk to him from his pov, tried to change this outcome and now he still has to hunt after you.
• Once he finds you, he will simply stalk you for a while. Watching you, waiting to see if you'll notice him, and waiting for the right moment to take you home.
• He doesn't want to force you to come back, he'd much prefer to be a hero in your eyes than a monster so he'd wait until you broke down then swoop in to comfort you. But I give him a week before his patience runs out and you wake up chained up as Hoodie stares straight through you before getting up and leaving the room.
• Then he'd return and leave periodically untill you decided to talk about it.
• Unlike with some of the others, (Masky, Toby, LJ) your physical needs will still be provided in this aftermath.
• Most likely to understand where you're coming from, reassure you, and then have things go back to a form of normal with no further changes or consequences.
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primcri · 1 year
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Her alt. outfit looks cooool 😚 
(will probably clean this up later)
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lochnessyzmonster · 2 years
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Helpfun Sun Part 42! Uh... Hi! 😅
Sun loves hugs! Gregory... Tolerates them...
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elderlune · 4 months
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the autism is autisming so hard about the quarry rn
expect quarry writings 😋
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A Kiss And A Key(Happy Ver.)
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TW: Blood, torture, violence
Paring: GhostxReader Summary: You had to go undercover and as a result, Ghost thinks you had betrayed him and the 141. He gets brought in to the base you are undercover at, and now you have to decide whether or not you let him suffer and protect yourself, or help him and risk the whole operation.
You were undercover, trying to get information on Makarov for the 141. It was a hard and painful mission, but you had said yes anyways. You had said yes, knowing you would never be able to hold the trust of your teammates, of your friends, of your family ever again. Price had not wanted to ask you, but he did, and you had agreed, much to his chagrin. You knew you were the only one who even had a chance of pulling this off, and you weren’t going to pass it off to someone less skilled only for them to get killed.
Things were going fine,for the most part. The hardest thing you had had to do was reveal you were a traitor. You will never forget the look in Ghost’s eyes as you shot Soap and walked away with Makarov. Of course, you didn't hit Soap anywhere fatal, just pistol whipped him and grazed the side of his skull, but from any point of view other than your own, it looked like you had shot him in the face. 
You rose in rank quickly after that, being able to dedicate your full time to ‘the cause’. Things were going well, and you started to think you might actually make it out of this alive. That is, until Ghost showed up, beaten, bloodied, and caught. 
You stand on the other side of the one-way mirror, watching Ghost get beat 9-ways to Sunday as he refuses to give out information. You hear him let out a small, pained cry and close your eyes, knowing what you have to do, even if it‘s going to get you killed. 
You spend the day preparing, packing a go-bag, obtaining the key to his cuffs, making sure you would be on rotation to ‘question’ him. You set the cameras to loop for 10 minutes at 8:30, make sure the power will shut off, knowing it will take 9 minutes to bring everything back online. You spend the day high-strung, on-edge about someone catching you before you even have the chance to save him.
 The time comes and you make your way down the hall, down the stairs, and to his cell, key stuck under your tongue. You nod to the guard outside of the door and take a deep breath before stepping in. 
“Traitor.” Ghost hisses when he sees you. His mask is off, blood running freely from his mouth. You say nothing, just kneel in front of him. Your heart hurts at how bloodied and bruised his body is. You touch his cheek, running a finger gently along a cut under his eye. He flinches back, spitting blood at you.
“Don't think so little of me.” You murmur softly, wiping blood from your cheek, “Why are you here? Did Price send you?” 
“I’m not telling you anything.” He snarls. You sigh softly, resisting the urge to cry at the absolute hatred in his eyes. 
“I’m sorry.” You whisper, digging your thumb into a wound on his arm, “I’m so, so sorry.” He hisses, face contorting in pain and your heart falls even more. You continue like this for almost 15 minutes, you doing your best not to hurt him too much, and Ghost remaining tight-lipped and angry. 
“You know,” He gasps out finally, “Soap had hope for you. Said that you could have killed him but didn’t. It’s almost sad that I’l have to tell him he’s wrong.” 
You feel a flicker of hope in your chest, relief that maybe someone other than Price will show up to your funeral. 
“Tell him I’m sorry, will ya?” You ask softly. He opens his mouth to respond and you seize your moment, grasping his face and pulling him in for a kiss. He makes a muffled sound of protest and tries to push you off, stopping when he feels cool, hard metal being pressed into his mouth. 
“This hallway will be clear in 30 minutes for exactly 9 minutes.” You whisper in his ear, pressing a hand over his mouth as he tries to ask you a question, “Tell Price I’m sorry that I couldn’t give him everything he needed.” You press a kiss to his forehead, rise, and walk out the door. “Anything?” The guard by the door asks.
“He won't talk. He is as infuriating as he was when I left.” I roll my eyes, “Never did know what was good for him.” 
“Cheers to that.” You nod to the guard, walking briskly down the hallway. If you are going to have any chance of surviving this, you have to get out now. 
Rescue
Of course, it wasn’t that simple. You did still have a job to complete. You began to collect every scrap of intelligence you could find, anything to ensure this whole mission wasn’t in vain. It took you 3 days to get everything together, but finally, after 3 days of being scared of your own shadow, you were ready to leave. You planned it all out, preparing to slip out under the cover of darkness, when the guard changes. But life is never so easy. 
In those 3 days, they managed to figure out you were the one who helped Ghost escape, and when they did, all hell broke loose. You were dragged to interrogation, handcuffed to the table, and questioned for hours. You said nothing, and soon harsher methods were utilized to get you to talk. 
You didn’t break. No matter what they did, you never said a word. You held your tongue through the beatings, the waterboardings, the white room, through fingernails being removed, through stress positions, through electrocution. You would be proud of yourself for how you held up, if  you weren’t in so much pain. You latched onto the fact that someone *would* come for you, if only because you would miss your monthly rendezvous with Price. That alone gave you the willpower to not give up completely. 
You lay curled in your cell, back up against the wall in the fetal position when the door swings open. Nothing new, the guards liked to try to scare you. You automatically curl up tighter, bracing yourself in preparation for whatever was about to happen. You keep your face pressed into your knees, hiding from the world for one more second.
“I’ve got them!” You could tell he yelled it, but the sound is muffled in your ears. You shift slightly, unused to the sound in the quiet of your cell, and look up. A man crouches over you, his figure blurred and wavering. He looks familiar, but you are so exhausted and in too much pain to think about it.  He speaks again, and hope wells in your heart as you recognize the voice. 
“We’re gonna get ye outta here, okay little bird?” Soap winces at your bruised, malnourished form. Your clothes are in rags, and he can see your ribs through your skin, which is mottled with bruises, welts, and burn marks. His heart hurts as he sees the fear in your eyes when the medics touch you, collaring and loading you onto a stretcher before moving out. 
He follows behind, eyes never leaving your frail, trembling form. Price and Ghost wait outside, and Soap stops next to them, letting the medics take you away. Price looks guilty and Ghosts look haunted, as they see your broken form, and deep inside Soap gloats in their misery. 
“I shouldn’t have sent them on this op.” Price murmurs as he watches the medics load you into the chopper. Ghost stands with him, eyes never leaving your limp form. 
“Ye shouldn’ta sent them with no back-up.” Soap says, slightly annoyed, “It’s against regulations and if they die, it's on yer conscience” 
“I know.” Price says softly. He climbs into the driver's side of the truck once the chopper fades from view, and Soap discreetly nudges Ghost forwards. He takes his spot in the passenger seat, Soap in the back, and they drive back to base in silence.
“They’ll be okay.” The doctor says after hours of surgery, “But they have a long recovery ahead of them. They had a dislocated shoulder, fractured wrist, broken fingers, partially-healed broken ribs, multiple burn marks and contusions, a concussion, a major couple ear infection, and pneumonia. We also had to re-break their femur because it had started healing wrong, and we have them on an IV and feeding tube due to how malnourished they are. They should be coming out of anesthesia soon, if one of you wants to visit them.” 
Soap looks at Ghost and Price, expecting one of them to say something. But the guilt that's written in every fiber of their being answers that questions for Soap. 
“Ghost’ll go.” He says quickly. Ghost looks at him, and Soap can almost smell the fear. He rolls his eyes, shaking his head at his friend's stupidity. How a man who had faced war, torture, and death on the daily with a straight face could be afraid of saying sorry, Soap would never understand. He shoves him forward, and watches in disbelief as Ghost somehow manages to hide behind the doctor as they walk down the hallway.
Ghost did not want to see you. Well, no. That's not exactly true. He did want to see you, but he didn’t think you’d want to see him. He had accused you of being a traitor, of betraying everything you had ever stood for, and you had saved him anyways. And got tortured for it. So to be the first face you saw when you woke up? He didn’t think you’d like that very much. 
Soap, on the other hand, had believed in you, even after you’d shot him. And here Ghost was, your partner, and he couldn’t even have that much faith in you. He spent this past month wracked with guilt, barely eating or sleeping as they counted down the days until they would be able to rescue you. 
The doctor guides him to your room, and he takes a deep breath, steeling himself, before opening the door to sit by your bedside. 
His eyes rake over your prone form, the guilt deepening as he takes in the multiple stitches and bandages, atrophied muscles, bruised skin, the tubes and wires sticking every which-way out of your body. 
“Hey.” He flinches, honest-to-gods flinches, too lost inside his head to notice you were awake. Awake, and sounding awful. Your voice was low and hoarse, and it hurt him to think about why. 
“Hey.” He murmurs, sliding into the seat by your bed with surprising grace. You don’t miss how his hands clasp together in his lap instead of holding yours. 
A frown crosses your face as you look up at him through glazed, unfocused eyes. Real or not, this sight of him has joy and fear warring in your heart. Joy, because you still love him, and you are glad your sacrifice was not for naught. Fear, because what if he still hates you? What if he never wants to see you again? What if he’s upset that you got rescued. You can’t help but think about how Soap was the one that found you. 
“How are you?” Comes out of his mouth, startling you. 
“D’nno.” you slur, “they’ve go’ m’ ‘n th’ gud dru’s.” He doesn’t respond, just nods and goes back to staring at you in silence.
“How ‘re y’?” You mumble. He looks up, his eyes dark and haunted, heavy with guilt. He doesn’t respond for a moment, surveying your broken form again. You almost cry, never once having seen him lay his emotions bare like that. Wake up.
“Fine.” He says finally, “alive.” He looks down, fingering his gloves. You don’t respond, just sink back against your pillows and watch him through hooded eyes. It amazes you how someone so big can make themselves look so small. 
“ ’m sor-.” 
“Do y’ h-” You stop, both of you speaking at the same time, the minutes of uncomfortable silence finally driving you to talk. 
“Y’ firs’.” You slur. He nods, staring at his hands as he opens his mouth. 
“ 'm sorry.” He murmurs, “I never shoulda doubted you. I jus-” He trails off, still not meeting your eyes. Hope blooms in your heart, a fragile thing you had not felt in months, a tiny little flame in your chest, fuelled by the thought that maybe he doesn’t hate you. You sigh softly, knowing there's no way that would be true. Wake up.
“Don’ be s’rry.  It w’s by d’sign tha’ y’ though’ I w’s a tra’or. I ne’er…I di’n’ thin’ I woul’ b’....I though’ y’ woul’ ha’e me wh’n I c’me ba’.” You pause, breath hitching, “Do y’ ha’e me?” 
“No.” The word is sharp, leaving his mouth without a thought. He shifts, finally meeting your eyes, and all you can see in his gaze is grief. 
“I ne’er…that’s why I was so angry.” He looks at you pleadingly, “I never stopped loving y’, ‘n I was so angry that I couldn’t…when Price said you didn’t show…” He trails off, and you just know that he is biting his tongue under the mask.
 It’s almost too good to be true, you think to yourself. Your exhaustion-addled brain was just conjuring up another story for you. At least this one he forgave you. You laugh wetly, wishing you could stick around. But no, you need to wake up.
 Wake up. 
Wake up and it will be gone. 
Wake up. 
Just wake up and you can stop this self-inflicted torture. 
Wake up.
Wake up! 
WAKE UP!
“Y/n?” You flinch at the touch on your arm, heart racing, your lips parted as you let out a startled cry. Ghost pulls his hand back, and once your vision clears you can see the worry in his eyes. “Are y’ back?” He asks softly, “y’r mind was gone there f’r a minute.” You pant softly, hands shaking as you take in the room around you. 
“Ghost?” You gasp, the room vibrant and swirling around you. Your vision tunnels, and you reach for him, needing to feel, to know that this is real. But you are too weak to even lift your arm that far, much less to sit up. You fall back, black dots dancing in front of your vision. 
Distantly you feel a hand on your forehead, tucking your hair back. A voice is whispering in your ear, but you can’t hear it. Your eyes flutter shut, the meds and exhaustion finally pulling you under. 
"Sleep." Ghost murmurs as your eyes slide shut, "I'll be here."
Part 2?
@alanalanalanalanalanna @bethabear12 @kyojuroslittleflame1 A/N: I'm baack!! Sorry I was gone for so long! I don't remember what order I said I was writing stuff in, so sorry about that. Feel free to remind me if you want :)
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heathers incorrect quotes #50
J.D.: Fuck capitalism. It's a rigged system that keeps us poor and it isn't fair.
J.D., playing Monopoly: Sorry, if you wanted to win you should have tried not being poor
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akicult · 2 years
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3:09 AM | g. suguru.
contains…fluff, established relationship. slight angst at the end. just a short drabble. not proofread.
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getou likes to play a little game with himself.
he gets home from work late each night. the early hours of the morning tend to get to you too—being so used to hearing the dark haired man creep into your bedroom well past you’ve gone to sleep. so you’ve grown accustomed to following his sleep pattern.
so the game he likes to play is; “where’s my girlfriend sleeping this time?”
he knows you try to stay up to the point where you can greet him when he comes through the door properly, but you can’t push yourself to stay up as late as you’d like.
usually, he finds you on the couch, passed out with a half eaten bowl of popcorn in your lap and head hung over the armrest. only sometimes does he find that you’ve surrendered, and tucked yourself into bed. and a few times does he find that you fall asleep in the most absurd places—the kitchen table, bathtub, on the toilet, (he got a funny picture of that one.)
and this time, he was greeted with the rare sight of you sitting on the small island counter, your head hung low looking down at your phone, only to be quickly whipped upwards at the sight of your boyfriend.
“ha! i did it!” a grin spreads across your cheeks, and you triumphantly throw your arms in the air.
he’s only slightly startled, because yeah, you have stayed up late enough to see him before, but that was rare. so, he offers a smile of his own.
he’s quickly engulfed by your arms, your phone long gone and sitting atop the counter. you perch up on your toes, wrapping your arms around his nape, and happily bury your face in the crook of his neck. he smells faintly of cologne, and maybe some cigarettes if you payed closer attention, but for now, you were just happy to be in his arms.
“it’s so late, love. i’d rather find you passed out, to be honest.” he hums with a joking tilt, although he wasn’t joking very much at all.
“i know,” you whine, and pull away to plant a quick kiss to his soft and pillowy lips. “but don’t you like not needing to drag me into our room every night?”
he offers you a little exhale, looking down at you with love swirling deep in his irises. actually, he doesn’t mind it. he always finds himself feeling a sense of protectiveness, security, whenever he has to run his fingers over your soft skin, kissing your forehead and quietly needing to carry your slouched frame back to your shared bed. sometimes you’ll wake up, and others you’ll be so knocked out you won’t even budge.
“i guess so.” he lies, his fingertips reaching to brush some of your messy hair out of your face. he silently notes the small dark circles under your eyes, and guilt swells in his stomach.
“are you hungry? do you need to shower? need me to do the laundry?”
despite all of your questions, getou can easily see through your act. you’re exhaused.
his smile never falters, however. his warm hand cups the side of your cheek, wordlessly leaning down to plant a much needed, deeper kiss to your lips. maybe to shut you up, maybe to keep you going. or maybe just because he felt like kissing you.
your hand clasps lightly onto his wrist, chin pointed upwards to kiss him better. his free hand wraps around the small of your waist, giving your skin a gentle squeeze before he decides to do what’s best—even if it means you’ll complain.
he slides both of his hands down to cup your ass, using little strength to pull you up, and his hands press against your bare thighs. you grin against his lips, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist that was still clad in his work uniform.
you feel a slight breeze as he whisks you across the hallway to your shared bedroom, still your lips mold against his needily, and the feel of his hair that was falling from a loose bun wraps around your fingers.
you smile when your body tips horizontally, feeling the comfortable pressure of your mattress and soft pillows press against your back, and your legs slowly unravel from his waist, keeping position faintly pressed against his hips.
“hah, sugu—“ you murmur between the kiss, “i’d still rather you eat something before we do that.”
“oh i will.” he only chuckles into your kiss, allowing it to deepen for only a second, before an arm that had previously scooped it’s way under your back slides out. it was only then you noticed he wasn’t on the bed himself.
he pulls away from you entirely. your eyebrows furrow, watching in confusion as he lifts the thick comforter up, and happily wraps it around your body.
“wait—wha—?” you question, attempting to sit up but he presses his hand against your chest and pushes you back down into the mattress. he tucks the blankets around your body, all the while carrying a shit-eating grin.
he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, ignoring your eyes that burn through his. “go to sleep, love. i’ll be with you in a little, okay?”
you gape as he flicks the bedside lamp off, the comfort and warmness of your blankets consuming you.
getou knows, however, that if you weren’t actually exhaused, you would’ve ripped the blankets off of your frame the minute he had put them there. but when he comes into the bedroom a mere twenty minutes later, stomach full of the delicious dinner you made, and body clean from the brisk shower, he finds that you didn’t put up a single fight.
your body was rolled to the side, mouth slightly ajar and getou couldn’t help but smile at the peaceful hum of snores parting your lips, and your body cocooned towards the middle of the bed.
he knew you were tired. he knew you were forcing yourself to stay awake just to satisfy him—thinking that’s exactly what he needs—when in reality, what he was looking at was exactly what he needs.
knowing you’re serene and safe in your shared home, able to fall asleep without the large dip in the bed next to you.
because one day, he fears you may never stop waiting by that door. waiting for a man in the deep hours of the night. waiting for a man that may never walk in to wake you up again.
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sorry i’ve been gone for nearly three months. i’m in a rut rn i need writing inspo!!!!!!!!!!!
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lazirayxi · 9 months
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This gent. So peculiar.
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Hi tumblr
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