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dragonnarrative-writes · 1 month

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Forming the Pack - Part 1

Autumn Embers Master List

Pheromones aren’t everything, of course, but you’ll get more cohesive group dynamics if everyone has scents that go together. Scent blockers and diffusers are everywhere in common spaces, so it’s not like people who’s scents don’t mesh can’t be around each other. Lots of people with subtler or hard to pin down scents only go au naturel on special occasions with family and their special someone.

Of course, the military is a whole other beast.

Almost every person serving active duty is an alpha, which lends itself to clashes. And alphas, who already tend to have stronger scents, put out even more aggressive pheromones in close proximity with one another. Industrial strength scent diffusers can only do so much. It results in proximity packs forming, alphas who are scent compatible spending more time with each other.

The 141 doesn’t form because of scent compatibility. When Price finds Simon and forms the task force, he doesn’t much care about what they each smell like. Their scents being on wildly different parts of the spectrum is better than if they were too close, Price reasons. His gear smells a bit spicy, Simon’s always has an earthy undertone. It’s easy to avoid squabbling, and only made easier by the way Simon readily assumes his position as John’s second. No muss, no fuss.

The first year passes. It’s hard work, but Simon makes it undeniably simpler. The Ghost has a presence that demands deference from the temporary members of the task force. And because Ghost follows his captain, that deference extends to Price. The two times someone had tried to upset the balance, Simon had reacted with such swift ferocity that Price hadn’t known there was a problem before it was resolved with a neck under a boot.

“Stand down, Ghost,” Price says around his cigar, the third time.

“'S soon as he acknowledges his superiors, Skipper,” Ghost rumbles, staring down at the sergeant who’s face is going an interesting shade of purple with shame and a lack of oxygen. “Yield, corporal.” The sergeant frantically taps Ghost’s boot. Ghost gives him just enough room to heave a breath, and snarls down, “Yield to the Captain.”

“Captain, I yield,” the young man gasps.

“You ever flout orders again, I’ll kill you myself,” Ghost growls.

After that, the mission had gone smoothly.

Days later, it’s just the two of them again, walking home from the pub. It’s a nice enough night for it, and they’re both too jumpy to call a car. Simon follows without comment, just lights a cigarette and falls into John’s wake, like always.

Four blocks from the base, Simon says, “Gotta piss.”

John snorts. “What, you didn’t go before we left? Hold it.”

“Alright,” Simon drawls. Without breaking stride, he lights another cigarette.

Of course, within another block, John becomes too aware of his own bladder. If Simon hadn’t said anything, he could probably have made it. Annoyed, he steps into an alley and behind a dumpster. His nose does not appreciate the assault on his senses, but he’s a soldier, he’s smelled worse. Simon stands guard at mouth of the alley as he does his business.

When he emerges, he tips his head. “Goin’?”

Simon quirks an eyebrow and exhales a cloud of smoke. “Am I?”

Price hums, takes in Simon’s relaxed posture. Without the skull covered balaclava, he’s softer. Not civilian soft - he’s still almost 2 meters of alpha, hardened by military training and torture. But where most military As balk at taking orders when they’re not in the field, Simon looks for ways to let Price lead.

Simon will do what ever John tells him. It’s a realization that probably shouldn’t thrill him the way it does.

John waves him into the alley. “Be quick about it.”

Without comment, Simon hands his half-finished cigarette over and steps into the alley. John contemplates it as Simon does his business. He prefers cigars, but he takes a drag and tells himself it’s just to keep it lit.

But when Simon re-emerges, John doesn’t hand it back. And Simon doesn’t ask.

#dragonnarrativewrites fanfiction #poly 141 #omegaverse #autumn embers verse #simon ghost riley #captain john price #manic pixie dream ghost #price is right #(in my heart) simon likes a hierarchy #but he never wants to be at the very top of it #(this was part of a larger document that has been sitting in my files for some time)#(posting to remind myself that I don't have to be perfect)#(i'm allowed to put my own stuff on my blog even if it's not finished)

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nobeerreviews · 4 months

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How beautiful the leaves grow old. How full of light and color are their last days.

-- John Burroughs

#autumn #autumn leaves #leaves #colors #john burroughs #nature photography #quote #switzerland #nature #beauty

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john-noe · 1 year

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the mirror of the soul

By John Noe

#switzerland #landscape #artwork #nature #john noe #sunset #photography #artists on tumblr #forest #light #canon #woods #love #photographers on tumblr #sky #flow #autumn #autumn aesthetic

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fleursscaptives · 10 months

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pre raphaelite ginger ladies ♥️🧜🏻‍♀️

#pre raphaelite #dante gabriel rossetti #ginger #art #art history #florence + the machine #john william waterhouse #john waterhouse #rossetti #autumn de wilde #dance fever #florence welch #vintage

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heaveninawildflower · 7 months

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'Mariana' (finished work and pencil study) by John Everett Millais (1829–1896).

Oil on wood (1851). Pencil study (1850)

6wGvnPEiyH8RFA — Google Arts & Culture

Victoria and Albert Museum.

Wikimedia.

#John Everett Millais #pre raphaelite #Mariana #Autumn #19th century art

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halloweentrickortreat · 10 months

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Michael Myers 🔪

#halloween 1978 #halloween #michael myers #autumn #fall #spooky #horror #john carpenter #art #painting

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autumnleaves1991-blog · 6 months

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"I don't actually believe you." Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F! Reader x John 'Soap' MacTavish

Summary: After returning to base in Las Almas, the team gets a surprise when Graves turns out to be the true enemy. During the confusion you get injured and taken with Alejandro. To bad for shadow company you're more than a teammate to Soap and Ghost, and their coming for their girl.

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F! Reader x John 'Soap' MacTavish

Warnings: 18 + for language, canon typical violence, blood, guns, reader goes by the callsign Phoenix, poly.

Cross Posted on AO3

“Let’s not make this any harder than it has to be, gentleman.” You clear your throat, “and lady.”

“My men are in there!” Alejandro holds out his arm, his voice impassioned, “let them go.”

“No can do, amigo,” Graves chuckles, “I like this base. I think I’m gonna keep it. And everyone that comes with it.”

You turn your head, Ghost already has his eyes on you. “So what’s the plan then Graves?” You turn to look at the shadow leader, “you gonna kill us?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “absolutely not. No one has to die tonight.”

“You know what? I don’t actually believe you.” Alejandro takes a step closer getting in the commander's face.

“I’m not leaving without my men.”

“We’ll then,” Graves grabs a hold of Alejandro’s vest, pushing him into the van, shadows holding both his arms as Graves knocks him out with the butt of his gun. “Grab the girl!”

You scream, fighting like hell, Shadows falling down around you before someone grabs your hair and pulls you back a gun under your chin. “Let me go, you piece of shit!”

“Tsk tsk Darlin’. You kiss your momma with that mouth.” Graves grins looking ahead and you see Ghost and Soap staring you down. Their jaws are locked, pissed off beyond belief. “Or just these two boys?” He laughs, “This little girl is the key to keeping you boys compliant. I control her, I control you.”

Ghosts finger tightens on the trigger, Soap going for a knife strapped to his side. “Let. Her. Go,” Ghost growls, his chest heaving, “I won’t fucking tell you twice.”

“Oh so you’re the one she’s been fucking?” Graves tightens his grip and you hate the whimper that slips through your teeth.

Simon raises his gun, blowing the head off of the Shadow beside you. The soldiers lift their guns, all of them focused on Ghost. “Next one goes in you,” he aims at Graves.

“I wouldn’t do that,” he digs the gun harder into your throat. “You shoot me and she dies.”

“I wouldn’t be so worried about her,” you can hear the smirk, “she can take care of herself.”

“Seems I got the upper hand this time,” he gropes your breast, “and what a nice handful it is.”

“Fuck this,” you slam your elbow into his stomach, whirling and dropping as the bullet flys directly over your head. You lift your leg and kick him in the sternum as the bullets fly. You toss your body, rolling down the hill with a pained cry as a rock hits your shoulder, dislocating it.

“Fuck,” you groan, grabbing your gun and shooting blindly back at the Shadows.

“Phoenix!” you hear Johnny shout, and you look around blindly when something hits you hard on the back of the head and the world goes dark.

When you come to, the room is dark but you can see two Shadows in the corner their guns resting lazily against their chest. The floor beneath you is cold and you sit up, biting your lip and muffling the scream when you notice your shoulder. “Fucking asshole didn’t pop my shoulder back,” you mumble, cursing his name.

“Graves,” one of the Shadows mumbles into a radio, “she’s awake.”

“Fucking finally,” you can hear the smile in his voice, “I’ll be right down.”

The door slams open a moment later and you flinch, your vision swimming. “Seems like you haven’t lost your fire, Phoenix,” Graves strolls in like he owns the place, pulling a chair to sit down before you. “I’m glad your awake, had me worried there for a moment.”

You ignore him, focusing on a point on the wall behind him and retreating to the recesses of your mind. This isn’t the first time you’ve been tortured but a first for it being someone you know. “Aww, don’t do that, Sweetheart,” he leans forward putting his hand on your neck and squeezing as he brings you to your knees.

He squeezes tighter and your eyes widen as you struggle to take a breath, digging your nails into his wrist, your right arm hanging loosely at your side. “It’s rude to ignore your hosts.”

He lets go and you fall to your side, coughing and sputtering as the air reinflates your lungs. “I’m surprised,” Graves stands looming over you, “I thought Ghost would be into a little choking.”

Ignoring him you think of Simon and Johnny, and you laugh. It starts off as a giggle, then a chuckle before you’re laughing manically on the ground. Graves doesn’t like that very much, standing quickly and putting his boot on your arm, pressing down. You scream, blood curdling as he presses harder, leaning down to your face, “you think this is funny?” he shouts, “tell me, bitch, what’s so fucking funny?!”

He finally lets up kneeling beside you, his gun in your face, and between the tears streaming down your cheeks you see the two shadows stepping closer. “TELL ME!” he screams, and you start laughing again.

“They’re,” you gasp between each word, “gonna, fucking, kill, you.” The blood stains your teeth when he wacks you across the face with his gun, the metalic tang on your tongue.

“We’ll see about that,” he stands, staring down at you for a minute before, looking over his shoulder, “put her in the holding cell with Alejandro and lock it down.”

“Yes, sir,” the men nod, watching him retreat before they lift you, ignoring the way you cry when your obviously broken shoulder jostles.

They dump you on a stale mattress in the corner of the room, another soldier holding a gun on Alejandro. “What the fuck did you do to her?!” he screams fighting the one holding him back. They slowly retreat out of the room before locking the door to the cell behind them. Alejandro rushes to your side, brushing the hair out of your face, “Jesus.”

“Looks worse than it is,” you whimper, allowing yourself a moment to cry when he tries his best to clean you up.

“Graves really fucked you up,” he mumbles, tearing off his shirt, leaving him in a white t-shirt, “this is going to hurt,” he warns before popping your shoulder back down. A scream tears its way out of your throat, and you clutch at his arm, sobbing. “It’s broken,” he whispers, “but that should take some of the tension off.” He makes a sling out of his shirt, and helps you sit up to rest against the wall.

The room is silent save for your heavy breathing, and the drip of water in the corner. “He-” Alejandro starts, rubbing his hands together, “he didn’t-”

“No,” you cut him off, understanding, “no he didn’t.” You close your eyes, “doesn’t mean he won’t take the chance the longer we’re here. Or maybe he’ll hand me around to the Shadows. I think this has shown us, Graves is the furthest thing from a man of honor.”

“They’ll come for us,” he looks up at the ceiling, “they’ll come for you.” You turn your head and give him a small smile, he turns and returns it. You sit in comfortable silence, your head resting on his shoulder, hating how your body tenses when you hear the slightest noise from outside.

Hours later, the building shakes with a boom, and Alejandro leans over you covering your head as a few small rocks rain down from the ceiling. “The cavalry,” he pulls back smiling down at you, “has arrived.”

“Johnny,” you whisper, closing your eyes, “they’ll alive.” Soldiers shout outside the room, and Alejandro stands, hiding behind the door ready to pounce. You hold your breath, hearing shots down the hall and screams through the thick metal of the door.

Another boom rocks the complex and it makes you smile, “that’s my demolitions expert,” you whisper, “come find me, baby.”

There’s suddenly a scream of terror that is quickly silenced, closer than the others. “Ghost,” you whimper, pushing off the ground with a gasp and taking a shaky step towards the door.

“Stay back, Phoenix,” Alejandro holds out an arm, “we don’t know for sure it’s them.”

But you do, the door bursts off the hinges and Alejandro strikes, Johnny pins him to the wall. “It’s us, Amigo,” he shouts.

“Ghost, Soap, Rudy,” he looks at the three men and smiles, “am I glad to see you!”

“Where is she?!” Ghost pushes his way past them, looking around before his eyes land on you. “Phoenix,” he whispers, taking a step towards you.

You step, your knees collapsing but before your knees hit the ground he’s holding you. You gasp, pain shooting up your arm and he quickly lets go, assessing the damage.

“Lass,” Johnny comes around and leans you against his chest. Ghost pulls off his pack and grabs a syringe from a small bag, “relax,” Johnny presses his lips to your head, "we got you."

"Fucking Graves is a dead man," Ghost growls injecting your arm with the good stuff. Your arm aching but nothing compared to the agony of the last few hours. Ghost leans closer, his eyes rimmed red before he checks you over for any other wounds.

His hands tighten painfully when he sees the fingerprints on your neck, "did Graves do that to you?"

"Yes," you whisper, his finger softly trailing down the purple bruise on your cheek, "and that one too."

"Death is too quick," he mumbles, glancing at Johnny, "fucking bastard is going to suffer."

"Aye, I'm right there with you L.T.," Johnny wraps his arms around your waist, "had us scared to death, love."

"We need to get her out of here, I'll go help Alejandro free the Los Vaqueros, then we get the hell out and kill Graves." Ghost stands walking towards the door but freezing when he hears you.

"Simon," you whimper, reaching an arm out for him, "Johnny, help me up." Johnny helps you to your feet, keeping himself pressed to your back. "I thought you were dead for the last day. I thought Graves was gonna come back and touch me, or give me to his men. I just fucking need you right now."

"I got you, Phoenix," he pushes his body to your front and you're sandwiched between the two men you love most in this world. "We'd have burned this entire fucking world apart to find you, love." He chuckles, "I don't know how well you could hear the explosions from in here, love. But Johnny got a head start."

"I knew you'd come for me." You rise up to kiss him, his left hand quickly lifting up his mask before kissing you with all the passion, worry, and fear since you were taken." Simon turns your head and Johnny is there, waiting for his chance to steal your breath away. Safe for the first time since you were taken.

"I fucking love you, lassy," Johnny kisses your nose. "Let's go home."

"I love you too," you whisper, turning back to Simon, "both of you."

"And I love you," Simon pulls his mask back down, "bloody both of you. Between you getting kidnapped and him blowing everything up it's a wonder I'm not dead yet."

"But you love us anyways," Soap grins, kissing your head and helping you towards the door.

"You're right," Simon nods, aiming his gun, ready to defend, "I bloody fucking do."

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #autumn writes #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #Female Reader #Poly #Our boys go a little feral for their girl #Autumn Writes

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overnitereligion · 8 months

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Penny & Batman october 2014

#precious angels #i miss you so much #penny #batman #st johns pdx #st johns portland #portland #oregon #pacific northwest #pdx #pnw #autumn #october #2014

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wronghands1 · 7 months

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#autumn #phonics #fall #phonetics #definitions #language #pronounciation #speech #wronghands #webcomic #john atkinson

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enchantedbook · 2 years

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Autumn Leaves by John Everett Millais, 1856

#john everett millais #painting #autumn

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dragonnarrative-writes · 29 days

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Forming The Pack - Part 2

Autumn Embers Master List

By the time Sergent Kyle “Gaz” Garrick joins the task force, John and Simon have semi-formalized their pack of two. It’s… unconventional, a pack of two alphas. Not the kind of pack John ever saw for himself, but then, he’d almost given up on having a pack of his own. There’s talk, of course. Soldiers always talk. But the talk is always a little quieter when it involves The Ghost. And quieter still when it comes to John Price and his task force.

Gaz is smart. He asks more questions than some sergeants, but he learns to trust John to make decisions. That trust must show, because Ghost is unbothered when Gaz challenges John in the field, even before he’s officially 141. Off the field, he’s easygoing and avoids getting into fights. Notably, he doesn’t blink when Simon shows John his neck after a debrief, six months in. It’s not until he says something that John remembers that having Simon at his feet isn’t something anyone else has seen.

“Never had more than a proximity pack since joining up,” he observes, perched on a chair in Price’s office. “Nice to see someone yield without having it beat out of them.”

From his position knelt on the floor, hands behind his back, Simon snorts. “Got plenty beat out of me.”

John gives him a little shake by a fist full of his short hair. “Not this, though.”

“No, sir.”

Reeling him in, John presses his nose against the lieutenant’s temple. Pulls him close so Simon’s own nose touches the side of his neck. The scent of trees and greenery and moss flows deep into his lungs and settles him. His second is here. Scraped up and a bit restless, but alive.

Across the room, Kyle makes a curious noise. “That a requirement to join the task force?”

John hums a bit into Simon’s scalp. “Task force isn’t pack.”

“Being on the task force a requirement for being pack?”

When he looks over, Gaz is alert but relaxed. The usual subtle spice of his scent is a bit more pronounced. He’s looking at Simon, taking in how pronounced the lieutenant’s shoulders are in this position, but his eyes settle on John’s face. Interested, but patient.

“Pack’s separate,” John answers. He taps Simon’s shoulder, and the man gets to his feet and rolls his neck. He gives John a significant look, tips his head toward Kyle. So John says, “Do you want to be pack, Kyle?”

“I’d appreciate your consideration, sir.”

“So polite,” Simon chuckles.

“C’mere,” John says, gesturing in front of himself.

Kyle doesn’t hesitate, stands near enough for John to touch and gives Simon his back easily. There isn’t a hint of anxiety in his scent; he’s trusted The Ghost at his six for multiple missions. He looks down at John in his seat with an easy smile.

John leans back in his chair and lets himself really look at him as a man, not a subordinate. He knew Kyle was attractive, objectively, the way he knew the sergeant’s almost cinnamon scent on his gear and the way his voice goes quiet as he’s lining up a shot. Now, he lets himself enjoy the pout of his lips, the breadth of his shoulders. When he holds a hand out for Kyle to offer his own, he admires manicured fingernails and faded scars on his knuckles.

“Get into a lot of fights?”

Simon makes an interested noise and sidles up behind Kyle to look over his shoulder. Kyle rocks back into him as he grins. “You know how it is. Gotta prove yourself, phase one. Especially if you’re not interested in proving anything.”

John gives an interested hum. He can smell the way Simon’s scent goes woodsy with arousal, what he presumes is Kyle’s spice responding. “Prefer alphas, then?”

“No preference, sir.”

Simon rumbles behind Kyle’s ear. “He likes when you call him sir.”

Kyle’s grin is smug. “I know.”

John can’t help but laugh. “What else do you know?”

The hand John isn’t holding comes up to smooth over Simon’s hair. He must telegraph something with the way he shifts his weight, because the two of them kneel in a smooth slide that leaves Kyle pressed up between Johns legs and Simon’s bulk.

“I know you keep your pack safe.”

Simon, the daft, romantic bastard, starts purring.

“No sex in my office,” John warns them both as Kyle leans to rest the side of his face on his thigh. When Kyle guides his hand to cup the side of his neck, he lets himself make a content rumble in his throat. “You’re gonna be a handful, aren’t you?”

“Only if you let me, sir.”

#dragonnarrativewrites fanfiction #poly 141 #omegaverse #autumn embers verse #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #captain john price #manic pixie dream ghost #price is right #gaz appreciation nation #💰💀🧢

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