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sugurism · 29 days

Note

ah your red /green flag post was really good. How about doing the type of person they are most likely to be attracted to..and if they would fall first or harder?

FALLING DOWN. ୨ৎ jjk men: their type of person + fell first, or fell harder?ㅤheadcanons

featuring ♰ㅤmultiple. (choso, higuruma, megumi, nanami, gojo, geto, sukuna, toge, toji, yuji, yuta)

warning(s)! ♰ㅤNO PRONOUNS AND ANATOMY FOR READER. SFW (?) — toxic behavior ! possession ! some are delusional + yandere implied ! again, very much made based on personal opinions + i tried to write the characters off as canon as possible, but my favoritism will probably show ! sukuna (he's a warning of his own) ! violence + blood + death (mentions) ! cannibalism (mentions) ! obsession and possession ! not really all dark content but i will tag as so just to be sure, sukuna's part is insane ! mentions about marriage ! sadomasochism ! suggestive (sexual ideas about you) !

author’s note ♱ㅤthank you for everyone who's enjoying the red / beige / green flag post! you're all so sweet, it made my day, truly. im so happy, and this suggestion was so fun, anon. a small reminder so no one gets lost, though — please, read my rules before interacting. i don't take requests, but i consider suggestions. wrote this because i enjoyed the idea! it's not good, though. wrote this in a hurry and im currently working on other WIPs. don't know if i liked the result, tbh.

୨୧ CHOSO KAMO — attracted to someone's soul. fell harder.

the type of people choso likes is honestly pretty hard to describe. he is a romantic by nature, even if he is not aware of it. he really likes someone willing to cooperate with him and his family. anyone with an honest desire to protect him and his family and allow themselves to be protected as well.

with a body that was given to him (a dead body, even), he cares very little about physical appearance. a large part of him seeks to understand the essence of those he loves so that he can understand them without saying a word.

the moment he realized he fell in love with you was after a bloody battle. he was covered in blood and injuries while using his body's natural regeneration to recover. however, you forgot that ── you forgot his strength, you forgot his ability. you saw him as human as yourself, and by extension, fragile. bruised. mortal.

“choso! are you okay?” your warm hand touches his face, and choso's stomach twists at the thought of your delicate, perfect hands getting dirty because of his rotten blood. the blood of a cursed creature, neither human nor curse. and the way you look at him now: with affection, care. with the desire to want to protect him, as he would like to protect you.

and at this moment, he knows. what he feels is love. he feels like he's been struck by lightning, electrified to the last cell in his body. “y──yes. of course.”

god, he needs to marry you. now.

୨୧ HIROMI HIGURUMA — attracted to an opposed strength. fell first.

this is personally inspired by my view of higuruma (and inspired by oc), but it would be an amazing cliché if he fell in love with a prosecutor. it is not exactly a person, but rather a dynamic. hiromi's type of person is someone who can argue their convictions and has the determination to defend their point of view. the kind of person who could get him back on track. someone who would argue back if he were wrong.

the moment he realized he fell in love with you was a very simple day. nothing unusual. the weather a little dark, a late afternoon full of heavy clouds threatening to pour their rain on him and you. when you looked at him and smirked after “winning” an argument, he felt his own heart skip a beat in a way he never thought it could before.

he wonders if you can notice. it's obvious, how could you not? how could he not notice it earlier, he wonders. for some reason, the idea makes hiromi flinch. his mouth opens to retort, but he gives up. will saying something make it obvious how much he is in love with you? he should wait before saying something. he can do that. he can wait and wonder, will someday, your heart jump like his, when he is around you?

୨୧ MEGUMI FUSHIGURO — attracted to chaos. fell harder.

this may sound ironic, but considering megumi's deranged nature during fights requires equal and opposite strength. aka, someone as passionate and convinced as himself. someone who will turn and smile at him with blood on their hands as everything explode around you two.

the moment he realized he was in love with you was during a fight against a curse. a simple exorcism, in theory, but one where a creature suddenly appeared and was about to make him lunch. until its interruption, of course. shouting as you annihilated a curse so far from his level just to protect him ── a determination and raw fire in his eyes. it made you look like you could do anything, even kill gods.

it made his mouth go dry and his cheeks grow red. and megumi knew, it wasn't from adrenaline. it was something much, much stronger.

୨୧ KENTO NANAMI — attracted to calmness and stability. fell harder.

nanami already has a very chaotic presence in his life. satoru gojo's ironic giggles and crude jokes are terrifying. his senpai's irreverent behavior will haunt kento until the day he dies. therefore, nothing fairer than a partner who is calm, but not in the way he is calm ── cold, slightly arrogant, semi-distant from everything that is real. calm as water, in a serene and subtle, loving way. someone to share his burdens and allow himself to be vulnerable with.

the moment he realized he fell in love with you was — weird. stress gets to even the toughest of men, and someone under as much pressure as nanami, for all his composure, is still susceptible to it. the smallest things can make a stressed salaryman's day hell, like today.

nothing worked. absolutely everything backfired in the worst way possible. he spilled coffee on his jacket, had to ask for another one, where the barista got his order wrong, and in the end, he was almost late to start his work schedule. as he passed you through the jujutsu high campus (in order to avoid that tall, white ghost that terrifies his underclassmen to this day), you made him stop.

being an assistant teacher isn't exactly an easy job, considering the vast array of (potentially problematic) students that inhabit jujutsu schools. but you are always able to get them all on track without using a drop of harshness. there's a firmness to its sweetness, sure, but it's not intimidating. the brats even apologize to you honestly when they make mistakes.

when you see him, you wave gently and smile. and that smile makes kento exhale very slowly. the stress escaping him as if drained away. not entirely, but it was something. and nanami has a talent for spotting things that seem insignificant, but actually aren't.

oh, your smile. your smile always does this to him.

୨୧ SATORU GOJO — attracted to gentleness and honesty. fell first.

despite all the compliments satoru receives, he is completely sure that ninety-five percent of them are not at all sincere. it's like a poorly done bribe in an attempt to get the favor or appreciation of the strongest, because he will always be that. first the strongest sorcerer, then satoru. first a title and then a person. it's just how things work, there's no point complaining about them.

but a person who can honestly see him as a human being first and as who he is, beyond his title. a trustworthy and caring person, someone he can genuinely let his walls down with without it being a decision he regrets later.

the moment he realized he fell in love with you was on the verge of death. well, not at the brink of his death, but at yours. so many things could happen if he wasn't around, and they did. a fight with a curse user, and your obvious victory, but at what price? now he was waiting at the hospital anxiously, his fingers drumming the arm of the chair as he watched each person pass by.

every doctor, every nurse, every one of those miraculous people who could save your life. every second melted into its own agonizing torture, and satoru couldn't understand why. why was it so hard to calm down? he has been here before, so many times, with other friends in their deathbeds. it was agonizing all the same, but somehow, now it seemed worse.

when they finally said he could enter, satoru wasted no time. walking through the door and lowering her sunglasses towards him. you and your bruised body, lying on the bed and slowly turning to look at him. smiling through the pain, and his lips parting to murmur. “’toru. you're here.”

he sat down in the nearby chair and chuckled slightly, feeling his worries disappear. your voice, so gentle and truthful. so happy to see him — a friend, someone dear. not the strongest sorcerer, but him. “yeah. of course, i am.”

୨୧ SUGURU GETO. — attracted to passion. fell harder.

passion is one of the determining driving forces that makes humanity the sinister creatures that they are. passion for something can be good, like artists who created revolutionary works and opened the world's eyes to their problems. or, it can be terrible, as in geto's case: his passion is the cult and his new world.

he would like someone who is as passionate about something as he is about this philosophy itself. bonus points if the passion in question is the philosophy itself, but any number of other things might be acceptable.

it's difficult to describe a moment where suguru realizes he's in love with you, without defining a passion of yours. maybe it's a hobby like art, or maybe it's caring for a pet. it's necessary context, but whatever it is, he realizes your determination and ends up completely falling in love with it. with you.

be it watching you smiling while finishing a painting, petting your cat proudly, or anything that reveals you're determined to stick to your own principles. like he will stick to his.

୨୧ SUKUNA RYOMEN. — attracted to violence. fell harder.

i saw a post once, talking about how a sukuna's ideal type (assuming he had one) really is someone who wants him dead. it's hard to explain it, but he's definitely attracted to the more disturbing aspects of a person. in particular, a taste for violence and independence.

however, he might not like it so much if this independence became a challenge. he is willing to allow very extensive freedom to any human who interests him ── within certain limits. a king must not allow the absolute insubordination of those beneath him, after all.

he wants someone raw, and visceral. bonus points if there is a possibility that he will mentally destroy you and turn you into some kind of obedient pet. someone who was not made to be his, but could become, if he shaped you to be his and only his. don't kings enjoy having pets? he should, as well.

the moment he realizes he is in love with you is definitely a bloody scenario. you have just ripped apart a curse with your bare hands. watching you like a hawk, he sees you — covered in purple blood and panting. sukuna wonders if you would show this same voracity in other situations.

if he took you to bed, would you agree happily, spreading your legs at him and laying down obediently for him to do as he pleases? or perhaps you would try to stab him, or open his chest with your bare hands, as you did with that inferior little creature? ripping his heart out, looking him in the eyes while you take a bite of it.

he licks his lips at the thought.

୨୧ TOGE INUMAKI — attracted to spontaneous and joy. fell first.

toge does not have the ability to communicate in words normally, due to his technique's nature. he is fortunate to have access to other means of communication ── cellphones, notepads, even sign language. but something that attracts him is the perspective of someone who understands him well, and who has the energy to speak for him.

the moment he realizes he is in love with you is during a conversation. he, you and his friends are all walking and gathered together, discussing casual things. even with the hectic routine that you all have, it is very important to have these moments where you can act like normal people and not just wizards (he will bring sweets for panda, to make up for him not being able to come).

maki turns around, asking what he wants to eat. toge considers for a few moments. he honestly doesn't feel hungry tonight, but before he can respond in his ingredient language, you look at him for a second and help him communicate.

“hey, wait! i don’t think he’s hungry. right, toge?” he nods, a little surprised that you can understand before he even says anything. and while the sounds of chatter disappear around him, he focuses on you and your face. you, who always pays attention to him. you, who understands him.

୨୧ TOJI FUSHIGURO — attracted to a mix of chaotic and calmness. fell harder.

the loss of mamaguro affected toji in indescribable ways. a man should never be forced to bury the love of his life, but that's what happened. as a result, he returned to bad habits and destroyed his own life. so, his type ends up being something very difficult to define. i think he would still like someone like mamaguro, but not completely. the type of person who can be chaotic as well as calm. someone who doesn't necessarily fix him again, but someone with whom he can see companionship and honesty. kind of like partners in crime.

of course he appreciates your kindness, but he really lacks showing it back. a part of him stays awake at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering why you're so good to him — when toji is fully aware he's not good enough for you. generally, he wouldn't mind. he moves from woman to woman, relationship to relationship, simply for money. why is he caring now?

the moment he realized he was in love with you was actually during an argument. toji is someone who is extremely difficult to deal with because of his relaxed and self-serving nature ── plus, he purposely acts annoying during fights, but you never freak out. well, today you freaked out. and while you're swearing at him from the rooftops and pointing accusingly, he can only stop and feel himself melting. for some reason.

it doesn't make sense, of course it doesn't make sense. but your calmness contrasted by such abrasive anger is extremely attractive. it's more than attractive. he feels like gasoline and you feel like a match. and god, how he wants to burn.

୨୧ YUJI ITADORI — attracted to gentleness, honesty, and pride. fell harder.

yuji's destiny has always been marred by constant and untimely misfortunes. he loses friends and fights, he fails in moments where he should win, and the destruction upon him is both physical and mental. but there is hope. a kind person who genuinely understands him and can help him take the reins or share the burden when it all gets a bit too much. someone who watches bad movies with him and laughs at the terrible jokes he makes. someone who is willing to help him forget the horrors of the world for five minutes, or be rational when he is emotional.

the moment he realizes he's in love with you is when he leaves the cinema. a (very disgusting) sequel to his favorite horror film series just came out, and you were the only person who agreed to watch it with him. as he excitedly searches the bottom of the popcorn bucket for some leftovers, he notices you looking at him. "what?" he mumbles, crunching on the popcorn.

you laugh lightly, reaching out to wipe his crumb-covered cheek. “yuji, your face is all dirty! wait, i’ll get a napkin.” that little contact of your palm with his cheek is── scorching. there is no other way to describe it. the sensation is so sudden that as you move away to grab a napkin, he lets the practically empty bucket fall to the floor.

there was so much tenderness in your stare, so much care and appreaciation. even if it wasn't your cup of tea, even if the movie would be a horrible set-up for a date, was this a date? even with all that, you— enjoyed it. enjoyed spending time with him, being with him, caring for him.

oh god. he is so in love.

୨୧ YUTA OKKOTSU — attracted to roughness and sincerity. fell first.

honestly, yuta's type can be a mean person. he wouldn't admit it, because he doesn't know how to say it without sounding almost like a masochist, but someone dragging him around by the collar while he smiles like an obedient dog is a pretty attractive prospect. he feels that he could cooperate very well with someone who is the very opposite of him ── as strange as it may seem. his type of person isn't really specific, he kind of just wants the basics: honesty, loyalty, affection. but if he could choose? someone more raw and honest, for sure. someone who would set the world on fire.

the moment he realized he was in love with you was in a strange and awkward situation. after an argument with one of his friends, you were just going to turn around and walk away at a steady pace. he doesn't like conflict, guys ── it's very stressful and makes yuta extremely anxious ── so his reaction is to just kind of stand there looking like an idiot. but you grab him by the arm and pull him away. “don't just stand there, yuta. let's go.”

“y—yes. of course.”

despite this, he knows you wouldn't be rude to him, or wouldn't be rude without a good reason. still, the almost angry tone in your voice and the authority you exude. even though he knew that in terms of power levels he would be stronger? totally attractive. he can see himself following you back and forth and a kind of dynamic that works like that. kinder and somewhat socially anxious boyfriend, and you, a scorching flame that consumes everything around you.

he kinda wants to be consumed, anyway.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. thank you for reading! <3ㅤㅤthis was not proofread.

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tacticaldiary · 10 months

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omg hi, i love your writing and saw requests were open for cod. i was wondering if you could write something where reader and simon are in an established relationship (can either be public to the team or a secret) and they are on a mission. reader has a scare during a mission and ghost has an “i almost lost you” moment with her.

Anyone But Her

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Their line of work has never guaranteed the assurance of coming home, but that doesn't make the fear of loss any easier to deal with, especially not when it happens right in front of his eyes.

Masterlist

If asked where one feels the most comfortable, people who respond with something like 'home' or 'the beach', something achievable and wholly normal.

Her? There was nothing more comforting than the feel of hot metal in her tight grip during a mission, the easy reloading of her sniper almost by muscle memory as she gazes down the scope. The commands, the back and forth with tasks and delegations, and the constant movement and adjustment needed to bring home a victory is what keeps her on her feet.

"In position on first building." Ghost's rough voice travels through the comms, bringing her attention away from the scope she's looking down. Laying down on the top of a hill, spotting the other members as they infiltrate a Russian warehouse, was an easy job. In and out before they realised that the team was even there.

It's an ugly thing, what the 141 deals with, but it's so far set from what normal is that she's long since accepted that there's no going back.

Part of her is glad she hadn't tried. If there was never a chance she'd have been selected for this squad, she never would have met the enigma that is Simon Riley.

Standoffish, brash, deadly.

Understanding, confident, loving.

They'd butted heads on her first day harsher than any of the others ever had, and after an order from Price to resolve their tension lest it interfere mid battle, the both of them had come to realise that they had much more in common than they thought.

The rest had been history. They already moved in sync on the field, and after a try they'd discovered they worked just as well together as something more than teammates. It was hard to keep things professional with glances so heated and words that no friend would ever offer each other.

Some of the things he's said to her in the heat of the moment and the privacy of their quarters makes blood rush to her cheeks just thinking about it.

She was just a precaution, really. A failsafe, because the odds may be in their favour but they were never always truly compliant.

"Breaching second on your command." Gaz's voice relays through.

"Sergeant, how are things from above?"

"All clear, L.T." She says, doing another final sweep of the grounds. "No visible hostiles near your vicinity." The good news is delivered with an undertone of caution.

If their intel was correct, this warehouse should be housing stolen US documents, information that could deal real damage to their operations if transported farther than it already had been.

So where were all the soldiers?

The only ones she sees are a few mulling around the grounds, three by the radio tower nearby and another few near the vehicles at the back of the compounds. Surely such valuable intel would be more heavily guarded?

Her gut speaks to attest that something is wrong, but before she can bring it to light, Ghost and Soap, and Gaz and Price breach the doors of their respective warehouses.

"Copy." Ghost rasps. "Breaching now." She pauses for a moment to fiddle with her comms unit, the voices filtering through to her earpiece crackling in a way they shouldn't be if the device was fully functional.

Looking down her scope, everything seems normal. The grass swaying in the wind, the silence that follows and-

Silence?

She stiffens at the sudden lack of noise. It was too still, the clam before the storm. Hand flying to her comms, she speaks into the device;

"Ground team, how copy?"

Static. Then silence.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she repeats herself louder, more firmly, frowning where there's nothing but muted static and crackling. She does another sweep of the facility with her sniper. All seems quiet until her gaze focuses on the radio tower.

Adjusting her scope's distance, her mouth goes dry when she realises exactly what the three at the base of the structure are holding. A device she herself has used many times during missions like these.

A jammer.

Sudden movement makes her eyes snap back to the vehicle form before. Her stomach drops as the doors to the truck swing open and soldiers armed to their necks pour out, spreading all over the facility.

An ambush. They knew they were coming. Jammed their comms to isolate them and hide their forces until the others entered the warehouses probably. Surrounded. They'd be surrounded in mere minutes if they didn't do something.

Her comms are useless, so she can't warn them, and can only watch in muted horror as they start to scatter around the building.

Fuck.

She can't take out the three men at the tower from here. That wouldn't stop the device and only act to reveal her position. Hands-on was the only way.

Slamming her sniper onto the strap on her back, she extracts her pistol, breaking into a harsh sprint down the hill. There was no time, she had to warn them herself. To hell with staying out of sight.

The 141...they were like family to her. Soap and Gaz's constant cheeky remarks and antics, Price's steadfast and reliable leadership, Ghost...Simon's patience and understanding, his muted passion and actions that when decoded conveyed more love than anybody had every offered her.

The day her team took a loss would not be today. Not like this. Not when she could help it.

Finding herself in the middle of the compound by ducking and staying out of view, she kneels behind a crate, unhooking one of her frag grenades, pulling the pin out with her teeth.

This would give away her position, a dangerous gamble while hostiles surrounded her from all sides, but what better way to alert battle-ready soldiers than with the bang of a grenade. A sounds they knew all to well.

She'd just have to hold her position until they could regroup. She's done tougher things before, and this was so or die right now. With the thought in mind, she steels herself and tosses out the grenade at the most densely packed area of soldiers, clenching her jaw and taking cover at the resounding bang that cracks through the air.

The gunfire follows soon after.

Her comms crackle, evidence that someone's trying to reach her, but with the jammer not sounds can be deciphered.

Soldiers yell, and fire at her location, the heavy thudding of footsteps on either side of her clueing her into their intentions to flank her sides and gun her down. Returning fire, she ducks between the crates to make her way to the radio tower, just a couple of metres away. Bullets clink and bang and ricchoet of fthe metal around her, but miraculously, she's mostly unscathed as dives behind a vehicle and takes down the three men aiming their rifles at her.

The jammer lays at the feet, blinking green.

Right in the middle of the open field. She had to get there, had to get it off so they could all communicate with each other and move smoothly. There was a higher risk of casualties if one moved without the knowledge of the others.

Unpredictability was the worst of enemies in the field.

Steeling herself for going out in the open under the inevitable spray of bullets, she unclips a smoke grenade and tosses it, holding her breath as acrid smoke obstructs everyone's vision. Stumbling into the mess, she keeps low to the ground to avoid the blind fire into the smoke and feels around for the device.

Her hands curl around the metal and she sprints back to cover.

She doesn't make it.

Their blind fire proves effective, as a bullet rips through her shoulder, another one through her calf wrenching out a choked scream from her. The smoke was slowly dissipating, and pretty soon visibility would be back and then any bullet wounds she'd sustain would not be as unfatal.

Panic claws up her throat, but years of practise allow her to swallow it down. She pulls herself up, but groans and collapses, her leg unable to support her weight and her shoulder unable to drag her across the ground.

Shit, shit.

Her breaths come ragged and uneven, her knuckles turning white with the harsh grip on the device. Changing courses, she brings the jammer close to her, focusing on it instead, turning knobs and pressing buttons.

If she bit the bullet here, she'd damn well do so making sure the others stayed alive.

The second the jammer switches off, voices filter through her comms, a flurry of mixed yells, gunfire and pounding footsteps.

"Sergeant?!" A familiar voice barks down the line, hoarse...worried? "Are you down?"

Lightheaded, feeling blood soak through her clothes, she can't bring herself to respond. The smoke starts to clear and the best she can do is shift herself behind a tree a few feet away, leaning against the thick trunk for cover while unable to grasp her weapon through the slippery bloody coating her hands.

Was it normal to have that much blood? Feeling a little delirious, she drops her weapons besides her and presses down hard on the wound on her leg, biting back a groan. Gunfire pings around her, gunpowder and smoke acrid in the air.

It's only when Ghost snaps her name through the comms does she come back to herself a little.

"I'm..." She squeezes her eyes shut trying to get her tongue to form words. "I'm down. Bleeding out near the radio tower. Fuckers jammed out comms. Ambush. Had to...had to warn you. Had to fix it." She coughs, spitting into the ground beside her as blood trickles down her chin.

Definitely not normal.

Swallowing is hard, her thoughts swim as the grass beneath her is stained crimson. Her body feels too heavy, head to light and she wonders if this is really the end.

Someone speaks through her comms, words to muddled in her head to make out. Gaz? Or was that Price? Maybe Soap? Or Simon?

God, what she wouldn't give to hear Simon again, just once. Her eyes flutter shut with a groan. Just once more. She just wants to hear that gruff voice one more time through the comms, saying her name. He's never told her he's loved her verbally, even when she expressed it herself, but words haven't ever been his strong points.

His actions spoke far far louder.

The ways he's memorised all her little routines, her favourite foods, her favourite activities, the particular way she likes to store and clean her weapons. the silent moments at night where he pulled her close and the shared a book together, the nights spent together in bed where he showed her that he was not lacking in love when it came to her.

Simon Riley had left a mark on her life that she wore with pride, and if this...this meant that he lived on another day. She grits her teeth, shallows pant soft breath as blood pools between her fingers.

Then it was damn well worth it.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

An unstoppable force by nature, Ghost is the scariest anybody's ever seen him right now.

That last comms transmission from her had made his heart practically stop in his chest, even if he was as apathetic as ever from the outside. He had called out to her again, demanded she stay awake and give a precise location but no matter how much he shouted and order through the comms he was met with a deafening silence.

Silence that suggested the worst.

Fuck, no. No way. This wasn't happening, this simply wasn't something Simon would allow to happen.

Not her. Not any of them, really, but especially not her. Not her soft smiles and meaningful glances, not when she made him feel as if he might not break everything he comes into contact with.

Not when she was the only one who's ever coaxed out Simon Riley from Ghost.

His actions grow harsher, more brutal. The moment he hears she's near the radio towers bleeding out, he's a man on a mission, and none of the others make a peep of protest as he clears the way through to her, a spartan leaving a trail of blood behind as he moves.

He does not rage. Rage implies something uncontrolled and fierce. No, this is not rage. This is something much colder, much more calculating. Every throat that he slashed with his knife, every bullet that lands home in a skull is done with precision and deadly force. He means every bit of hurt he causes, hurt that stems from his own panic at her sudden silence.

This was not rage. This was icy cold desperation disguised as cool anger.

He's the one who finds her after everybody spreads out to clear the facility.

Back to a tree, eyes closed, hands limp at her side.

She might have been sleeping if not for all the fucking blood.

Dropping down beside her, he shakes her shoulder firmly, calling out her name.

"Wake up, Sergeant." He orders, eyes raking over her figure to find the source of her injuries. His jaw ticks as he notes the two fresh wounds. She doesn't move when he extracts a rolls of gauze from his belt, doesn't flinch when he tightly wraps her injuries.

Does not wake up to notice how his hands are shaking as he ties the final knots.

"Wake up." He says, voice much lower, something deeply needing. Shifting closer, he pulls her into his arms, away from the rough bark of the tree. Her head falls to his shoulder limply, making his breath hitch, true, cold fear gripping his heart. "Wake up, sweetheart, c'mon." He urges. She's still alive as per the shallow rise and fall of her chest, but she won't fucking wake up and it's killing him, making panic claw at his throat because not her, not her, not her.

Reaching around, he pinches her sternum hard, relief slamming into him when she finally groans and whimpers, a weak hand reaching up to push his away. "That's it, love. There you go." He mutters praise, hooking an arm under her legs and hoisting her up, carrying her. "Keep those eyes open for me, yeah? Don't you dare fucking close them, you hear me?" His accent is thicker than normal

"..Simon?" She groans, barely a whisper, making his heart wretch painfully.

"It's me." He confirms, clutching her tighter as he makes his way back to the exfil he'd ordered Gaz to request. The heli stand waiting near the first warehouse, a mass of dead bodies paving the path for them to step over. "I've got you, love. Stay with me, just a little longer.

He doesn't know if she can hear him let alone understand what he's saying, but it seems to work, her groggy gaze taking in their surrounding, watching but not really seeing.

She shoves at his chest suddenly, weak but firm. "No...you gotta-they're here." She rattles in a breath that makes even him wince. "Ambush, Simon. Gotta-get yourself out."

"Fucking hell woman, you think I'd leave you?" He hisses, hiking her up closer so their bodies are pressed together. He feels a rush of anger peer through the crushing panic and worry he's beating down.

"No time." She breathes. "Leave-"

"Not another word." He warns, angry at the thought that she'd even think for one moment that he'd let her die on his watch, that he'd ever leave the one good thing in his life.

Her compliance scares him to the bone.

Simon practically runs the last few meters towards the evac heli, barking out instructions for a medic as they bring out a stretcher. Gently, an action so at odds with the flames burning through his veins, he lays her down on it, staying by her side as they hoist her inside.

The jolting makes her whimper, aggravating her injuries no doubt. "Careful," Simon demands, and a single glare from him is enough to make the team move her with much more cautiousness.

The team clamours in and it's not long before they're all in the air.

A silence is passed around the space, an acknowledgment and shared anger at her state, how she was riddled with bullets like a target because of her selfless nature to save and give.

They hadn't gotten the intel, but Simon has never given less of a shit about anything before, not when she's laying next to him pale and trembling, looking up at him as if he might be the one to make her pain go away.

May God strike him dead if he doesn't try his fucking hardest.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The steady beep on a heart monitor and the sharp smell of antiseptic is what slowly brings her back to the living world. She feels...

Well she feels like shit.

That's kind a given though, judging by how she determines by the scratchy sheets under her that she's in a hospital bed. One would be more disorientated by waking up like this, but she's seen her fare share of white bedspreads and jello cups.

Finally gathering up the courage to blink her heavy eyes open, she squints at the ceiling light, slowly getting her bearings.

They were...on a mission. She tries to recall. Warehouse. Men. Jammer...

The jammer! Were the others alright? All she remembers is passing out by the tree and-what else?

Alarm ringing through her, she moves to sit up but immediately groans at her body protesting, her limbs burning at the movement. Shoulder and leg tight with stitches, she tries to force herself to sit up when a large, warm hard pushes her back down.

"Easy does it. Lay still for me." The familiar voice washes away the alarm and when she slowly, groggily turns her head, there sits the one person she wanted to see.

Simon sits beside her bed, looking ragged and poorly even beneath his mask. She can see it by the tension in his shoulders.

"Wh-" She trails off, coughing and wincing at the pain in her dry throat. There's a rustling, and then a hand at the back of her neck, guiding her lips to a cup full of cool water. "Drink." Simon says simply, helping her swallow the liquid until she pushes on his hand.

"What happened?" She finally manages, meeting his eyes. "You look...like shit. You okay?"

Amusement may have flickered into those eyes of his, but it's next to nothing with the other concoction of worry in his eyes.

For someone so stoic, he had very expressive eyes if you knew how to read them.

"Am I okay?" He stares in disbelief. "Considering I didn't get shot twice and nearly bleed out, I'd say I'm doing better than you."

"Ever the comedian." Her joke doesn't crack a smile from him and that's when she knows something is truly wrong. "Simon what-"

The scrape of his chair cuts her off as he stands abruptly, moving over to her side. He seems hesitant for a split second, arms pausing as they reach out.

He decides to push away the doubt, however, because moments later, strong arms are wrapped around her, pulling her into him. She relaxes at the familiar scent of him, of his clothes as he tucks his chin over her head.

His heart is racing under his cheek, her fist loosely gripping his shirt.

She knows he'll speak in time, that she just has to wait for him to gather the words and decide how to express them out loud. So she does exactly that. She waits while he regulates himself, gathers his thoughts.

His arms tighten around her. "Thought I lost you." He says, and if it had been anybody but her, they might have missed the slight tremor in his voice. "When I saw you bleeding out against that tree...Fuck, I thought you were gone."

"Not that easily." She hums, pressing into him further. "Never than easily."

"Better fucking not be." It coaxes a hoarse giggle from her, what he growls in her ear.

"I'm alright, Simon." She assures him gently. "Alive and kicking."

He nods against her head minutely, his lips pressing against her head through his mask, a gesture that makes her melt because if Simon was resorting to such a thing he must have really had a scare. He hated PDA and although they were the only ones in the room, normally they reserved this kind of intimacy for their own rooms when they're alone together.

He stays like that for a while, convincing himself that she was there, that she was alive and breathing and in his arms and untouchable as of now. All the while she runs a soothing hand up and down his strong arms, mumbling assurances of their safety.

She'd do it again in a heartbeat, would put herself in harms way to save her team, but as she sits there pressed against him, the sun spilling into the room warming it with it's rays, she can't help but think of how thankful she is to have felt this again.

To have the chance to continue experiencing the protective love of Simon Riley.

Requests Are Open!

(25/06/2023)

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braimin · 1 month

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Zoro and his lack of true connection to the ocean.

Zoro hungers for a good fight; he only see the water as a means of travel, a way to get to his dream. And Sanji longs for the sea, he chases after waters that collect fish from the whole world. Zoro was never really drawn to the ocean the way Sanji was, the way most of the crew was. When he joined, he was drawn to Luffy, his energy and the promise of something entertaining. He wasn't thinking about the ocean, he was completely indifferent to it.

But Sanji was already reaching out for the sea before he ever knew them, already wanting to find his all blue. The majority of the crew already had a connection to the ocean before they decided to join Luffy; Nami wanted to chart the waters, Usopp wanted to see the things his father did and become a warrior of the sea, Franky builds boats meant to sail the entire ocean, Brook was called by the song of the waves, Jimbe is a child of the sea herself. But Zoro didn't, he wanted to be the greatest swordsman, he didn't care about living on the ocean until Luffy asked him to join him.

Zoro's relationship to the sea is different from the others. Especially Sanji's. Sanji loves the water, he can watch the waves for hours, his interest never wains. His joy in swimming, in seeing fish, in the sound of the waves runs so deep. Even the smell of the salt water pulls Sanji in, he can find the shoreline from that alone, no matter where he is on an island. It all lights something up in Sanji that Zoro will simply never understand.

He's not upset over it, but sometimes it is weird to not get what it is about the water that pulls him in. Zoro spent the majority of his life on land, he's never felt the sea's call. Even now as he travels on it he just can't feel whatever it is that the others feel. His dream doesn't involve the water in any way, he could achieve it and never go out to sea again and it truly wouldn't effect him. But for Sanji, the ocean is his dream. There's no separating him from it without killing his ambition. It truly is like Sanji was born from the sea, his ties are unbreakable.

So when all is said and done, when Luffy becomes the pirate king, when Sanji finds his All Blue, Zoro feels lost. He's won his title and achieved his dream. So have the others, and as they move on and build the rest of their lives Zoro isn't sure how to move forward. His instinct is to fight, but Luffy's interest in adventure and exploration is different now, there aren't as many fights as there used to be. And Sanji has a home on the All Blue that he doesn't intend to leave. It's very hard for Zoro to take his mind out of the soldier mindset he's been in for years. He doesn't need to protect anyone anymore, they all can take care of themselves; they've reached their goals, there's no need for uphill battles and risking their lives. Zoro doesn't know what to do, where to go.

He didn't ever think about what'd he'd do when everything was over. He figured the fight to be the worlds greatest swordsman would be long, then he promised to help Luffy reach his dream and he assumed that would also take a long time. Zoro thought that once he reached one of those goal, he'd just move onto the next. He picked up his dreams from other people he didn't have a plan for what would come next. He doesn't know how to pick path for himself, or where to start.

He travels with Luffy for a while after. It just feels like what he's supposed to do. But something is missing. He can feel it calling out for him, but he can't tell what it is. It's frustrating. Zoro wonders if this pull is what the other's felt for the sea, and if it is, then why is he not satisfied yet? He's out sailing the ocean, why is it still calling for him?

It takes a while, but after a few years of wondering it finally clicks. Luffy decides they're going to the All Blue, he misses Sanji, and Zoro is happy to join, he misses the cook's food. As soon as he sees Sanji's restaurant there's a feeling of peace settling in his chest. When they dock and step foot on the ship it really hits him. Long waves of blonde hair, deep blue eyes, and Sanji is so happy to see them; he welcomes them as Luffy wraps around him in a hug. There's a sense of serenity that washes over him.

It's not the sea that's been drawing him in, it's Sanji. His Sanji, his All Blue. Zoro decides then and there he's not leaving, regardless of what the cook may say.

#zosan #sanji #zoro #one piece #I was thinking about some of the things I wrote when someone asked about 40yo zosan #also there's a dojinshi that kinda talks about this #I read it a few years ago #And I haven't stopped thinking about it since #I think it's called Noah's Arc ? something like that #But it's kinda about how Sanji really has the soul of a pirate #and Zoro just can't get it for a while #It's really good and now that I'm talking about it I might go reread it lol

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heli-writes · 1 month

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A dragon's heart, part 7.

Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader

Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.

Disclaimer: mentions of injuries, mentions of dead animals, hunting of animals, kissing, allusion to arousal

[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Series Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

„You shouldn't move yet!“, y/n says angrily. Katsuki is up and walking around camp. It seems as if he's getting ready to leave. Y/n follows him closely.

„Seriously! This wound is not even close to being healed yet. You can still rip it open again!“, y/n keeps scolding him but Katsuki simply ignores her. Y/n grips his arm and pulls it which has no effect on Katsuki whatsoever. He's just too strong.

Y/n doesn't give up yet. Quickly, she catches up to him and stands her ground in front of him. „I'm not joking, you need to sit down!“, she says loudly and stares up at him.

Katsuki almost laughs in her face. She's glaring up at him, anger twinkling behind her eyes. She has put her hands into her sides and huffs at him. Her cheeks are slightly red. He doesn't need to understand her language to know what she is saying. „I'm fine, you little shit. I've had worse injuries and went into battle with them.“, he grins at her. Y/n shakes her head in disapprovement and Katsuki ruffles her hair.

When they're all packed up, it's time to mount the dragon. This time, y/n pulls her up by herself and even helps Katsuki up with his injured leg.

Y/n doesn't want to admit it yet but she's growing more comfortable to ride the giant beast. She clutches the handle of the saddle a little less tight and even takes a closer look at the view.

She's never been this high before. Everything looks so small. Hungrily, she takes in the landscape around her. Now and then, she gleefully points out things to Katsuki.

Katsuki doesn't catch on the things y/n discovers but he's content watching her this excited. It's the first time she truly enjoys flying and her reaction makes him want to take her on a joy ride more often.

This makes an idea pop up in his head. He grips the reigns and y/n tighter and grumbles in her ear: "Hold on tight".

His deep voice sends shivers down y/n's spine. Her neck and stomach suddenly feel really hot. Before she can recover from this sensation, the dragon takes on speed. The wind makes her eyes water and she presses her legs into the saddle.

Suddenly, her sight turns and before she knows it, she's upside down in the air. It happened so fast, that she didn't even have time to scream. It's over just as fast again. Katsuki's booming laugh can be heard against the wind.

Y/n turns around to him and shoves his chest. "You asshole!", she yells half laughing. "Asshole, hm?", Katsuki repeats with a grin. He knows that's an insult. Y/n huffs. "Of course, you know that word.", she says sarcastically and twists around again.

Katsuki laughs again and pulls her closer to his chest. "You're naughty, eh.", he grins.

They fly only for a little while longer before Katsuki lands in a secured area. He leaves the dragon to rest and prepares for hunting. He secures his weapons and then gestures at y/n to come over to him. He gives her a hunting knife and a spear.

"Are we going hunting?", she asks him unsurely. She's pretty sure she will only stand in Katsuki's way but the man gestures to follow her. The dragon takes to the air and follows them as a small point above their heads.

Katsuki scouts the area looking for tracks. Y/n follows him trying to be as quiet as possible. Her father and mother took her hunting a few times and she learned that being quiet is essential to being successful. Once her father wanted to shoot a pheasant and y/n stepped on a branch scaring the bird away. While trying to conceal it, her father was really angry and she had to promise to gather vegetables for the entire family to make up for the lack of dinner.

She watches Katsuki closely. He crouches to the ground looking at the ground intently. Y/n knows what he's looking for. While she's not an expert at reading tracks, she knows how to identify tracks of certain animals: foxes, rabbits, deer, pheasants...

Wanting to help out, she looks around for tracks as well. It's hard for her untrained eyes to see more than leaves and dirt. She can hear Katsuki curse behind her.

Then, she finally sees something that might be interesting. An imprint of a hoof in the dirt.

"Katsuki, look!", she whispers excitedly and waves behind her. Katsuki stops his string of curses and walks over to her. Y/n points at the hoof print.

"Jackpot", he mumbles and gives y/n an appreciative pat on the head. His eyes follow the rest of the trail that y/n didn't notice. He gestures y/n to follow him which she does so on quick and light feet.

They follow the trail for a good half an hour. Eventually, y/n doubts that Katsuki even knows where they are going but every now and then she recognizes a hoof print in the dirt.

They arrive at the edge of a clearing. Katsuki gives her a hectic sign to get down and y/n quickly ducks behind a bush. Katsuki crouches next to her and readies his spear. Y/n lures over the edge of the bush and sees a flock of deer resting in the middle of the clearing. There's a mighty stag just in the middle of them.

Knowing Katsuki, that's probably what he'll aim for. Katsuki nudges her and gives her a sign to stay down and be quiet. Y/n nods and Katsuki gets in position.

The element of surprise is an essential part of the hunt, y/n knows that. She can see how Katsuki's brows furrow in concentration. He looks pretty like this, y/n thinks.

Then, he tenses his muscles getting ready to jump. Before y/n can blink, Katsuki's in the middle of the clearing. Even though y/n knew it was coming, his speed still surprised her. Y/n raises her head above the bush. Almost she gets run over by a fleeing deer.

Then she sees Katsuki ramming his spear into the stag and wrestling it to the ground. The stag tries to defend itself by throwing its antlers into Katsuki's direction but Katsuki throws himself onto the stag's side pushing its body and head down. Katsuki lets go of the spear and struggles to get his hunting knife out. When he has it secure in his hand, he expertly cuts the stag's throat.

Slowly, the stag's movements become heavier. Katsuki stays on top of it nonetheless. It seems as if he's whispering to the stag. Y/n gets up from her position at the edge of the clearing and walks closer as the stag takes its last breath. Katsuki puts his hand on the stag's head and mumbles in his language. To y/n, it seems as if he's saying a prayer. Katsuki closes the stag's eyes and gets up. He lowers his head in respect and y/n stays silent. This seems like a sacred ritual that y/n doesn't want to disturb.

When Katsuki raises his head again, his eyes meet hers. Y/n gulps. She doesn't really know how to behave in this situation. Katsuki removes the spear from the stag's side. He dips his thumb into the blood and draws a line on his forehead. He dips his thumb into the blood again and gestures for y/n to come over. He draws a similar line on her forehead.

"You're a successful hunter, too.", he tells her, "Without you, I wouldn't have found the flock."

Y/n looks up at him with those big, clueless eyes and Katsuki almost has to laugh again. He pats her head then turns to look at the sky. He whistles and the small point in the sky becomes bigger and bigger until the dragon lands at the clearing.

Katsuki drags the stag to the side into the shade. After that, they set up camp. The dragon is relieved of the weight it is carrying. Y/n and Katsuki stack the bags in a way that makes it easier to get ready to fly in the morning. When a bonfire is lit, y/n and Katsuki settle down to eat. They still have some leftovers from yesterday which they eat in silence.

The cold slowly creeps in once the sun has set. Y/n shivers and holds her hands towards the fire in an attempt to keep warm. Katsuki chews on a bit of meat as he watches y/n. Y/n rubs her arms. Katsuki swallows the last bite. Then, he grabs y/n's waist and pulls her over to him. Tucking her into his side, he drags his cape over y/n's body. Instinctively, y/n leans into his warmth and Katsuki puts his arm around her.

Unknown to her, Katsuki's heart starts pounding. Now's the chance to find out if she's interested in him like that, he thinks to himself. Slowly, he shifts and grabs her legs. Y/n is startled when she's suddenly pulled into Katsuki's lap.

Katsuki pulls her close and y/n's head rests on his chest. She can hear the beating of his heart and his raspy breath. Katsuki runs his hands up and down her arms and legs. Y/n's own heart starts to pick up. What is he doing?, she wonders.

When she looks up, his intense red eyes meet hers. There's a certain determination behind them that makes y/n swallow thickly. There's that warm feeling in her belly again.

Slowly, Katsuki drags his hand up her arm, along her shoulder, up her neck until it lies firmly against her cheek. Y/n's breath comes out heavy in anticipation. She knows exactly what is going to happen next. She'd be a fool not to notice how Katsuki's eyes flicker down to her lips.

Then, Katsuki pulls her face closer and presses his lips against hers. Electricity shoots down y/n's spine. It takes a second for y/n to react. Katsuki is just about to pull back in defeat when y/n jerks forward putting pressure behind her lips. She helplessly grabs onto the necklaces that hang around Katsuki's neck.

Relieve floods Katsuki's veins. His hand finds y/n's lower back and he pulls her closer, deepening the kiss. Y/n kisses him back more feverishly. Her arms snake around his neck and one of her hands find their way into his hair. Katsuki kisses back just as feverishly and he pulls her body flush against his.

He can feel the mounts of her breast against his chest and he feels blood rushing into all the wrong (or right?) places. He shifts y/n on top of him so she doesn't notice. It's not the right time for this.

He groans as he lets go of y/n. In all honesty, he didn't expect y/n to go all in like this. She did strike him as one of those shy, easily sexually intimidated girls. Seems like y/n hides a lot more behind her kind, soft eyes.

Y/n's cheeks are red and her breath comes out in slight puffs of air. Katsuki has to smirk at her disheveled appearance. He pulls her close once again giving her a quick, but deep kiss. When he lets go of her, she looks embarrassed.

"Seriously", y/n huffs, "what are you doing to me?".

Katsuki presses another kiss into her neck with a chuckle. He feels happy, triumphant even. This makes it easier on what comes next. He'll take her home and present her to his mother. Then, he'll take her as his mate.

He leans back stroking over her back as she leans into his chest. Bringing home a mighty stag and a woman to his people. How better can he prove himself worthy to be their leader? He's securing their future, no matter what comes.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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thosewildcharms · 1 month

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i'll be thinking about 1x04 for the rest of my life probably, but currently i'm thinking about how genius it was that instead of the episode being about convincing rick to fight the CRM, as I originally thought it would be, it ended up being a battle to bring rick himself back to life. it's both rick and michonne fighting to revive a dead man who is doing anything he can to stay dead.

the show had already established that rick metaphorically killed himself and made okafor's mission his own instead of committing suicide and that from the moment she arrived he went into panic mode and was doing everything he could do put himself between her and the many threats aimed at her. like, we knew all of that going in.

and then this episode blows that wide open in the first, what, ten minutes? the CRM thinks they're dead. they can leave. and still, rick clings to okafor's mission. and in the hands of lesser writers, in the hands of any other production team who did not understand these characters as profoundly as danai and andy understand them, that's where it would have ended. rick would have genuinely been fully brainwashed and have been coming from a place of misplaced egotism, and they'd be having a very different fight. it would be rick insisting he had to fight the crm alone and michonne arguing that they can fight them together with nothing deeper than that going on.

but of course that's not it, because that's not rick grimes, and this is danai gurira's pen. he's not brainwashed, he's broken. he's so deeply and profoundly traumatized that clinging to this mission as a way of maintaining his own metaphorical death has become the last and strongest wall of his self-defense mechanism. and he spends the whole episode desperately trying to keep that wall up, and failing.

when he sees michonne's scar, he immediately looks for the PRB. because the physical proof of how much danger she will always be in reminds him of how much he can no longer bear to witness it. when michonne tells him about RJ, he asks her to give him the PRB and when he learns that RJ calls himself Little Brave Man, he doubles down on okafor's plan. because he can never lose another child (the way he lost carl twice) if he never knows or meets him in the first place. when michonne blows up about how scared and guilty she feels about not being with their kids he goes completely cold and blank and tells her to go back home. because if they're all out of sight and together they'll always be alive in his mind. because he's already dead, but they don't have to be. he becomes truly recognizable to michonne, to remain unmoved in the face of her pain like that.

and yet. he lasts about ten seconds before sprinting after when she leaves the room. he fusses over her when she can't stop coughing and refuses to leave her side when she's in danger. several times michonne checks in, to see if her rick is still there ("do you still love me?" "I just needed to hear you say it") and confirms that yes, he is. he's emphatic that he has never stopped loving her and never will, that she never has to thank him ever, for saving her life or for anything else. over and over, his love for her wins out even though he's trying so hard to keep that wall up. to remain dead so she will leave and keep living. he's trying to convince both her and himself that he's already gone, but always breaks at the last minute because the immediacy of seeing her right in front of him is more powerful than his own fear. tries to shut himself down, can't resist her, rinse and repeat.

and god, michonne. i've been yammering about the intensity of rick's love for michonne for weeks now, but michonne has done nothing but prove that she's right there with him, if not more. to reveal that rick is the only person who has ever made her feel safe, only to have him continually reject her and be a stone wall against her anger and pain and fear and confusion was so fucking heartbreaking to watch, and still she spends the whole episode banging and scratching and tearing at that wall around him, begging to understand why he's lying to her, why he's being so antithetical to the man she loves. and once she figures out that there's something else going on, that the rick she loves is undoubtedly still in there, she knows exactly what to do to save him. she forces him to say how much he loves her, how much he can't bear to actually let her leave him, so both of them can hear it and then reminds him of how he loves her. this woman spent a decade alone, afraid, raising their kids and facing horrible trauma herself, almost dies trying to find her husband only to meet a stranger once she does, and still does not give up on him. fucking incredible.

i said in a previous post that the only thing that could keep rick grimes from doing anything to get back to his family is a threat to their lives. and it's still true - his grief and trauma is so profound that even the nebulous threat of losing them is so horrifically terrifying to him that he's refusing to go home to them, keeping himself dead to protect himself from their possible deaths. but ultimately, michonne's love for him is even stronger than that. it took almost a decade for the CRM to break him, and michonne brings him back in a day. because the love they have for each other is more powerful than anything. as she says, it can't be denied.

it's honestly the most romantic hour of television i've ever watched. there's so much more that i can say that i haven't even touched on here, and i'm sure i'll be thinking about it for a very long time.

#richonne #the ones who live #i think it goes without saying that danai and andy's performances are fucking insane as well.#twd

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the-whispers-of-death · 2 months

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Lesson Learned

CW: Angst at the end!

You decided to help Fallen God!Ghost see that mortals weren't so bad (not knowing that he was already starting to see that himself), so you start bringing him to a soup kitchen you volunteered at where mostly homeless veterans attended. You figured the homeless veterans and those who ran the soup kitchen would hammer the point home, since Ghost is the God of Warfare.

Ghost is not pleased at first, since he had wanted to spend the evening staring at you with lovey-dovey eyes (he'd never admit he does so), but he wants to make you happy so he doesn't complain. His first reaction in the soup kitchen is to sneer and be disgusted, because surely this is beneath a god like him.

But he eventually warms up to the homeless who go to the soup kitchen, and the soup kitchen staff. He gets to know them as people, hearing their stories of war. Some of these veterans had fought in battles where Ghost has watched over and had a hand in who won and who lost, seeing up close the damage his own bloodlust had done as he sees them with missing limbs, fractured minds.

And as he continues to come with you to the soup kitchen and help around, he slowly realizes why God!Price and the other deities had said mortals were still important. Before his fall, Ghost had thought mortals had long ago stopped praying to his pantheon, but he hears these homeless veterans pray to Price and some of the other deities.

What truly hammers in the importance of mortals for Ghost is when he hears one veteran pray to Ghost himself, feels what the prayer does to him. Even though Ghost's powers are locked away, he can still feel them beneath the surface. And when the veteran prays to him, he feels the locked power grow, prolonging his divinity and life-span.

That's when he realizes, mortals' prayers give the deities power. They keep the deities relevant and not fade away like those forgotten deities. He's still here because of mortals. They keep the memory of when he was at his peak, when deities were still revered, alive.

The night he comes to that realization is also the night he decides to finally tell you his feelings. He cares for you, sees the value and beauty in you. You're so kind for a mortal, even deities aren't as kind as you are. And you deserve to be loved and to know you are loved.

You two are in your house now, you about to turn in for the night.

"{Name}, wait," Ghost says, calling out to you. He takes a deep breath as you turn back to face him. "I understand now the need for mortals. You all keep us from fading away into the void that created us. Your prayers give us power."

His eyes scan your beautiful ones as he continues, "And I realize something else. You've shown me something more than understanding, you've shown me how to be kind. And you've shown me love. You love so deeply, so openly. You care for others and you don't hide it from anyone, you don't let them judge you for it."

He takes another deep breath.

"It's made me fall in love with you."

You're shocked at the revelation, at the confession. You hadn't expected a god like Ghost to fall in love with you. But you can tell he means it. You can see it in his eyes, the way he looks at you like you're his entire world.

A smile graces your beautiful face, feeling relieved that he shares your feelings. "I've fallen in love with you too, Ghost," you admit, shy for the first time since he's met you.

"Really?" Ghost asks, stepping towards you. When you nod your head, he gently cups your cheeks in the palms of his hands. "Oh, I'm so glad to hear that. You've taught me how to live, how to be a proper god."

"I love you, Ghost. Not because you're a god, but because you have a heart of gold underneath that tough exterior." You stare into his eyes, your smile widening. "I didn't teach you how to be a proper god, I just brought out the humanity inside of you."

"And I thank you for it. I really do. I love you so much."

Silence washes over you two, the tension growing thicker in the air. You find yourself leaning in, wanting to kiss him. And Ghost leans in as well, having been craving you for weeks now.

So close, he thinks to himself. They're right there, right there for me to kiss. Just a few more inches.

His lips are just brushing against yours when he feels the air shift, power rushing towards him as his divinity and powers are given back to him. He finally has his powers back, he's finally a true god again.

But he can't rejoice, because he's back in the paradise realm.

The change of scenery makes him sink to his knees with his hands still up and reached outwards from where your face had been cradled in them, his lips tingling with the lingering feel of your lips on his. He feels Price's presence in front of him, but he doesn't look up at the other god, his eyes focused on the marbled floor of his temple.

A temple he never thought he'd see again.

"Congratulations, Ghost," Price says, oblivious to the turmoil Ghost is going through. "You've learned the importance of mortals and have earned your way back to the paradise realm. It takes a great amount of strength to do the introspection you did, I'm proud of you."

The air shifts again, signaling Price's departure from the temple, leaving Ghost alone. Without you.

Ghost's breaths come out in short and panicked huffs, his chest tightening as despair creeps up on him.

You're not here, he's not with you in your living room. He's not kissing you and pouring out all of his love into the kiss. He's not following you into your bedroom and spooning you as you two lay in your bed. He's not burying his nose into your hair and taking in that scent of yours that he loves.

"No, no, no," Ghost wails, the empty walls of his temple bouncing off with sound. "Take me back. Take me back to the mortal realm. Strip me again of my divinity and my power, just take me back! Price, take me back!"

Price doesn't hear his wails and pleas.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

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annaphoenix1994 · 1 year

Text

Only One Boundary

Masterlist:

When it comes to his body, Simon is all ears for anything to do for you. However, he only has one boundary that he’s hesitant to compromise with now.

“Not here. Anywhere else is yours.”

🇬🇧 Photo Credit: vhenan_virabelasan on Instagram! The work is amazing!🇬🇧

Tags: Smut/Mild Angst/Domestic Simon/Dominant Simon/Sensual Sex/Romantic Sex

He was home - finally home from what was promised to be his last tour. To say he was exhausted was an understatement. For the first few days, he did nothing but practically lay around and do nothing. His body physically told him no.

After the passing few weeks, you noticed that Simon became a bit more relaxed with being home. He still shut himself off on some days, but one thing was always the same: how he treated you. From driving you to work, to helping you in the kitchen, and pleasing you in the bedroom - he never changed that side of him.

Although you were both ecstatic to be home to be together, when Simon would shut down, he shut down completely. He still didn’t know how to comprehend all of the negative thoughts he had on himself as well as fighting his own battles within his own head. He truly didn’t want to lash out at you, but sometimes you made it hard for him not to as he couldn’t look at that gleam of worry in your eyes when you’d ask him what was wrong. He always had anger issues, but never once would he raise his voice at you. To avoid this, he’d simply isolate himself to cool off. But as said, you made it hard for him to not isolate himself. It wasn’t healthy, but he didn’t care. Being completely alone and fighting was the only thing he was used to.

You two had gotten into a mild argument earlier that day, causing him to shut down after you had left for work. He didn’t see that you were in tears on your way to your job, nor did he care at that moment. He was too heated to care about anything else. He kept himself at bay, shutting himself off after hearing the crack of pain in your voice as all you did was ask him to talk to you about it. You just didn’t understand and that was okay, so he would simply say “Okay.” before isolating himself for the rest of the day.

He ignored your worried texts, checking in on him every couple of hours. It broke your heart to watch him read your messages and not reply. He knew this, too, but he truly didn’t want to say anything to hurt your feelings even more than he already did.

“What’s wrong, Simon?” You asked with a saddened gleam in your eye after noticing he had begun to work himself into his own darkness again.

“Nothing.” He shook his head, avoiding eye contact with you.

You stepped closer to him, attempting to reach out and pull back the hood of his jacket as he was preparing a pre-workout drink. He liked to go out and run before going to the gym. He avoided your touch, keeping his eyes towards the task at hand. You grew slightly annoyed, but chose not to say anything about it. “You know you can talk to me about it,” You said softly, putting your hand on his left shoulder with light pressure, attempting to have him look at you. He could hide his emotions all he wanted, but his eyes always told you what you needed to know. You knew when he was angry, upset, happy, and aroused. You were the only person who knew him like the back of your own hand. “I don’t want you to get lost in yourself, baby.”

“I’m not.” He replied lowly.

You frowned, desperately wanting to wrap your arms around him and hold him in a comforting embrace that he always loved. Craved, even, but not today. He was in no mood to feel any type of soft emotion when he felt he deserved none of it. He felt you step closer to him, placing your palm under his collarbone of his left shoulder. He retracted quickly, grabbing your wrist and holding it towards your own. He looked away after hearing your innocent yelp, immediately regretting it. “Not here. Anywhere else is yours.”

You held back tears, desperately wanting him to talk to you about what was haunting him, but he didn’t want you to know. Any other time, he would always embrace you touching him, especially his chest. You huffed, “What’s wrong, Simon? Did something happen?”

“Something always happens to me when I leave,” He retorted. “It’s nothing new.”

“But this is!” You replied. “Why won’t you let me touch you? What happened to telling each other everything? You had no problem telling me what was wrong before and suddenly you can’t now?”

“You don’t understand.”

“You’re right, I don’t, but that’s why I’m asking you so that I can understand!”

“You don’t want to know.”

“What makes you think I don’t? This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve told me about what’s happened while you were gone,” You reminded him. “Nothing can surprise me anymore.”

“You want to bet on that?” He scoffed. “I’ll give you nightmares if I tell you.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“No.”

You frowned, dreading to have to leave due to the time of your shift. “Well, let me tell you one thing: when I agreed to be your wife, we promised each other it was through thick and thin. I knew what I was getting into and I don’t regret it.”

He didn’t reply, just kept his palms resting on the counter, looking down at the pattern of the marble below him. You had a point, but he was nowhere in the mood for a surrender. The silence was then broken by your next words, “Don’t bother taking me to work today. I’ll get there myself.” You said, knowing the statement would ping in his chest, although you were surprised that he didn’t try to stop you. So, you left. And man, did those words hurt. He felt like you didn’t need him anymore. He listened for the door the shut behind you, hearing the car start after the garage door opened. “I love you.” He mumbled to himself as if he were still talking to you, knowing he’d regret it if he didn’t say he loved you in some way in fear of never seeing you again. You knew he loved you, but without the open words between you two followed by a warm kiss, it hurt.

You returned home that night with a frown plastered on your face. Your mood hadn’t lightened at all throughout the day. You were afraid Simon wouldn’t be home when you returned, expecting him to be blowing off his pent up energy in the gym just a while longer, but when you heard the shower running, you began to wonder how long he had been in there.

The shower in your master bathroom was one of lavish taste. It was a complete walk-in shower with a waterfall-like head, giving a relaxing experience with each use as the walls were glass, perfect for one’s viewing pleasure if desired. You leant against the door as you looked at him, clear that he was swimming in his own mind. He faced the falling water, his breathing deep as he appeared to be enjoying the feeling of the water on his face. The dog tags shone within the steam, leaving your view of his full body limited.

You thought about returning to your evening duties, leaving him to dwell within his own mind, afraid to make the issue worse for him with your prying mind, but another part of you wanted to comfort him as it was now clear he was in a vulnerable state. He knew you were watching him, but he didn’t let you know it. He wanted to feel your comforting touch against his naked and hot skin, but he understood if you chose to retreat from him. Hell, he was used to that.

But he never expected it from his own wife, even though he wouldn’t blame you if you did.

Within a few moments, he felt your delicate hands on his back before your lips pressed between his shoulder blades. You didn’t care that he was still sticky with sweat, but took the opportunity to take care of him as it was clear he needed it.

He enjoyed your kisses to his back, soon to feel a sponge against his hot skin, tilting his head upward to the falling water. You then felt his head tilt down before reaching back behind him, bringing your left hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles as he expected your wedding ring to be taken off, but it wasn’t. It was a symbol of your loyalty and love to him, something he was guaranteed to give you with unconditionality. He then kissed your palm, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Simon,” You hummed, wrapping your other arm around his torso. “You know I’m always here as long as you’d let me.”

He nodded, pressing another kiss to your palm before guiding that hand to the new and deep scar on his left shoulder - a scar that he’d expect you to see with distaste rather than curiosity. He held your hand against it with his own, breathing heavily. The scar was deep and red as it was still healing — a scar that was earned with bravery as an enemy force stabbed him with enough force to break through his vest, thankful that he was wearing it as it was sure to puncture completely through to be a possible fatality. It was a painful reminder that if he hadn’t have been careful, he would’ve been taken from you forever.

After feeling the new scar, you didn’t once question him as to how he got it, knowing it was painful to even think about let alone speak about. Instead, you pressed another kiss between his shoulder blades.

He then turned to you, keeping your left hand secured between his and his chest, pulling it away slowly to let you look at it, keeping his eyes closed. You didn't know why he seemed so scared for you to see it as you had seen every inch of his body anyway, so you assumed that something bad had to have happened for him to seem so reluctant to let you touch him after his last tour. You carefully traced the rim of the scar with the pad of your thumb, beads of water decorating your navy blue nails. It was a deep scar with jagged edges - one with a nasty reminder leaving the imagination to wonder how it ended up this way.

But that didn't make you love him any less. "It doesn't change you, Simon." You whispered, looking up to see his eyes closed as he seemed to be savoring your touch. Unbeknownst to you, he was reliving the battle in his head moments prior to the gesture that left a permanent mark on him. He didn't reply to your statement as he kept his focus on what was going on inside of his head. You then cupped his cheeks, watching his heavy lids open to dark orbs as his gaze was something primal. You ignored his threatening sight as you continued to rub his cheeks with your thumbs. "This doesn't change you, baby. You're still the Simon I know and love. Don't hide it from me." You cooed.

"I could've been KIA--"

"But you weren't," You reminded him, frowning as you watched his eyes close again. "But you weren't." You repeated.

He nodded softly against your touch, his eyes keeping shut as he felt your lips against his sternum, placing a soft kiss there. He then realized that no matter how littered his body was with scars, it didn't change how you looked at him. He looked down at your now-damp hair, admiring how much larger he was over you. Being roughly 6'4", his stature was nowhere near yours -- you were a woman with a maximum height of 5'2", leaving much room between the top of your head and his own chin when standing in front of him.

He loved it -- loved being so much bigger than you as his intimidation factor shot through the roof. He was a mountain of a man with the natural urge for fights and carnage. Compared to you, who was delicate with the only intimidation factor in your body being the sharp comebacks you'd shoot at both him and Soap when they'd want to tease you.

You shared a gaze with him briefly before he made the first move in leaning down to capture your lips with his. The kiss felt submissive and laced with regret for the argument that morning, but you didn't care. You always forgave him as it had always been a desperate attempt to understand what was going on inside of his head, but you were appreciative that he was willing to eventually explain things to you, even if it meant shutting down after the fact.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, the smell of his body wash enveloping your sense of smell as he depended the kiss. You two hadn’t been intimate since he returned home, which was the longest you two had gone without sex. Every other time he arrived home, it was that night he wanted to entangle himself with you, but the thought of almost being KIA ate at him like a disease, refraining him from any action for a long while.

You felt his hands slide down your back, gripping just under your bare buttocks before lifting you up into his arms. You shrieked with excitement, “Simon! Don’t drop me! It’s slick!”

“You’re not going anywhere.” He replied, moving his lips to your neck as he reached behind him to turn the water to a more desirable temperature as he was unbelievably hot with passion. He took your mouth in his again, feeling that familiar tightening below the navel. He had forgotten about how consumed he was in his negative thoughts after feeling the spark of your comforting touch. You were his wife - a loyal partner that he could confine to unconditionally and love even more.

He took your breasts into his hands as your back was now pinned against the wall and his lips were on your neck. The steam from the water concealed your splotches of blush on your chest as his lips traveled lower and lower until they reached your core. “Simon,” You panted, afraid he wouldn’t like the taste of you after a long shift at work. “I haven’t gotten to freshen up yet.”

He smirked, looking up at you before pressing a kiss to your hip, “Do you really think I give a fuck?” He growled before placing another kiss to your hip.

You panted, tightening your abdomen at the feeling of his fingers swiping between your folds. “Already soaking wet for me, huh?”

“Always, baby.”

He smirked, removing his fingers from your folds before holding them up to your mouth. Your lips took in his two fingers eagerly, tasting a sweet/salty texture. “Look at that. If you can taste yourself then you shouldn’t have an issue with me.”

Your chest rose and fell with excitement. He was right. You couldn’t taste anything when he put his fingers in your mouth. He then turned the shower off before picking you up effortlessly, his steps careful as he crossed the tile floor of your bathroom.

The two of you lay on the bed facing each other, entangling your lips with one another as he brought your leg up over his hip. He was rock hard and dripping with excitement to enter you. You were eager, too, but you didn’t want to rush. You felt the head of his member poking at your inner thigh and you couldn't help but roll your hips in a desperate attempt to feel him inside of you.

You moaned as you felt his hand sneak down to himself, teasing your entrance before that familiar white pain spread you open. You couldn't help but grip at the base of his neck, leaning your head back as your hips stilled when he began with a slow thrust.

Your leg that was draped over his hip tightened, giving you leverage to roll your hips onto him even more. He groaned into your neck, nipping at the flesh gently as one arm was wrapped around your shoulders and the other was pinning your hip close to his body. "Oh, fuck." You whimpered at the new position.

He smirked against your shoulder, his dog tags clanking as he moved to where he was on top of you, the tags now dangling in your face. You gently moved the sacred piece to where it was backward on his neck, the tags resting between his shoulder blades as his thrusts were feeling rough and full of need. He slowed briefly to bring both of your legs higher around his hips. Your hands gripped the back of his biceps, feeling the muscles tighten as they held his weight. You dug crescents into his skin as the pleasure was euphoric. "All fuckin' mine." He whispered.

"Likewise, baby," You muttered in response, now grasping either side of his face as you tighten your core, feeling your orgasm on the horizon. "Right there. Right there," You panted, your mouth agape.

His pace didn't change as he was desperate to feel your walls contract around him, guiding him to his own much-needed orgasm. Your palms pressed against his chest, feeling his strong heartbeat as the feeling of your hot palms against his pectorals was enough to mark you with his spend. As much as he hated how littered his chest was with scars, he liked that part of his body. It was like his own shield - solid and wide, providing excellent cover for both at home and on the field. He also loved the feeling of your palms on his chest as you rode him, but this sensation he was feeling couldn't wait for another position.

He had to finish now.

You two stayed in that position for what felt like an hour, even though it was more than likely to be almost ten minutes. It was sensual, erotic, and loving. Your mouths were dry by the time you parted your lips. Your breathing was heavy and labored as he kept your orgasm teetering on the brink of insanity. He enjoyed it. You couldn't take it anymore as your release was begging to present itself. He kept up the pace as he felt your walls constrict around him and your thighs tighten around his waist. Your chest heaved as your breathed out, a moan dancing on your tongue. "Let it out, sweetheart." He grumbled against your hot skin before putting himself on his knees and bringing one of your legs to rest over his shoulder and spreading the other with his free hand. You didn't care about any insecurity you had right now. He had you in a vice grip as he watched himself enter you, each withdrawal being coated more and more with the slick from your orgasm. Fucking hell.

His grip tightened on your ankle as his own release came. He stilled as you felt his cock pulsate, followed by a very vague warm feeling when you focused on it. He withdrew, watching his spend ooze from you. He used the tip of his cock to push it back in, wanting all of him to stay inside of you.

Both sensitive and stung from sex, he peppered your sternum with hot kisses as his hands traced up your sides.

Simon was back - the Simon you knew and loved. The Simon that was always warm to the touch and that softened his mood only for you. His palms were warm, matching your skin. You were his and he was yours.

For better or worse.

#simon riley fic #simonrileysmut #simonghostriley #simonriley #simon ghost riley #simon riley cod #cod mw2 smut #Simon Riley smut #simon riley imagines #domestic simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley fluff #simon riley angst #ghost Riley smut

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antianakin · 4 months

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There is exactly one criticism that I agree with my, very anti-Jedi, cousin on and that's the Jedi were TERRIBLE Generals. Generals may TRY to make sure their men mostly come back. But useless sacrifices are not only acceptable, but expected, the men are mostly expandable in war. The Jedi did not consider sacrifices like that acceptable or expected. Sure it did happen. It was WAR. But they tried their best to make sure it DIDN'T. The Jedi were terrible Generals. But they were the teachers and Leaders the CLONES NEEDED.

I'm not sure I'd ENTIRELY agree with that. I think I'd be willing to agree that the Jedi were perhaps less CONVENTIONAL Generals, and they definitely do seem to at least TRY to place the lives of their men above just tossing them away for an easy victory, but you can just as easily claim that keeping the men alive to keep fighting is a good strategy in and of itself.

The biggest piece of evidence I'd point to that the Jedi were actually perfectly good Generals is the Citadel arc and Tarkin's criticisms. The one real criticism he makes of the Jedi as military leaders is that they're occasionally too soft and will abandon a mission if it looks impossible to win without near total casualties (on either side). But he's generally fairly positive about the Jedi and if they were truly awful at their jobs, I don't think TARKIN of all people would hold back on saying so, even to the Jedi's faces.

And we DO see the Jedi willing to make sacrifices and accepting that this is a necessary part of war. The Citadel arc is, again, a perfectly good example of this. Obi-Wan and Anakin go in with like 3-4 men each I think and they come back with a grand total of 3 (Rex, Cody, and Fives). A LOT of clones die on this mission that they all KNEW was basically a suicide mission because the Jedi themselves decided that getting the information about the hyperspace lanes was vital enough to the war that it was worth losing multiple lives over (including their own).

So it's not that the Jedi don't understand that sacrifices are necessary in war or even that they avoid it entirely, they just avoid what they see as UNNECESSARY sacrifice for what might amount to a fairly minor victory. Keeping more of their men alive might, in the long run, be a better strategic choice than losing all of them on one campaign, especially if it's over like one uninhabited moon or something like that. There's nothing to say that the losses the Jedi deem acceptable are things that would've changed the entire tide of the war had they chosen to push forward instead.

The other good evidence that the Jedi acting this way would've been the WORSE choice is the Umbara arc. We are told and then see that Krell IS the kind of General who is willing to lose a lot of clones in order to gain victories in battle, and the clones do recognize that he has a lot of victories under his belt. But never once do they discuss whether those victories really MEANT anything or had a large impact on the war effort. It certainly never seems that the Republic is majorly pushing back the Separatists because of Krell's victories, nobody ever mentions that Krell gained them a major advantage with those victories or took out anyone of any consequence on the Separatist side with his strategies. And by the time he gets to Umbara, he's explicitly using this strategy to WEAKEN the Republic side and cause a loss. Several of his strategies WOULD'VE meant the Republic lost on Umbara and it's only the clones utilizing different strategies that put fewer of them at risk that they actually end up continuing to HAVE victories at all.

I'll also point out that the Jedi continuously getting their men killed en masse would've bankrupted the Republic a LOT earlier because they'd have to be paying for more clones a LOT more often than they did in canon and I can't imagine anyone would've considered that a particularly sound strategy and at some point I'm sure the Senate would've felt obligated to put a stop to it anyway and insisted on strategies that kept more clones alive for longer. So I'm not sure it's fair to claim the Jedi were utilizing BAD strategy by not just exclusively using tactics that meant most of their men were killed for every single victory.

So the ONLY criticism we EVER see of the Jedi's ability as military leaders is Tarkin claiming they're "too soft" and Tarkin is the kind of person who would likely say that until the Jedi started carpet bombing entire Separatist planets. Would it give them a victory? Yeah, sure, maybe, but that's the exact same strategy the Separatists are using and look how well that works out for THEM. Everything else we ever see seems to showcase that the Jedi are in fact perfectly good Generals, not just in that they're kind to the clones and are unwilling to carpet bomb Separatist planets, but also because they're just... good at this. They CAN be strategic, they CAN run wars if they want to. And I think that's the whole point of the Jedi in some ways is that yes, they CAN make war when they need to, they just actively choose NOT TO every time they can. THIS is why Qui-Gon tells Padme that he and Obi-Wan are there to protect her but that they can't win this war for her and they end up going off to fight off a Sith while Padme has to actually win the war with her own people and the Gungans instead. The Jedi don't WANT to be in the position of doing nothing but fighting, but they're absolutely capable of this kind of work.

That's the tragedy of the war in some ways, the Jedi ARE good at this no matter how much they wish they weren't sometimes. But being good at it means they can actually protect the Republic, their own men, and even the Separatist civilians better, so they're not going to just sit there and do things that will screw over a bunch of people. Yes, they're going to fight the war in such a way that they reduce casualties as much as possible, but reducing casualties also requires doing enough to not LOSE the damn war, too. It's a delicate balance they're trying to hold on to and I'd argue they manage it better than anybody else would've ever done in their position.

#star wars #jedi #pro jedi #clones #clone troopers #the clone wars #listen i am not a strategist #i CERTAINLY am not a military strategist #but just looking at what we're shown and told by tcw and the films i think it's fairly the clear the jedi were GOOD at being generals #regardless of whether they LIKED that or not #yes they wanted to protect the clones but they weren't idiots and they clearly weren't causing the republic to lose all the time either #there's a difference between strategically retreating from battles that can only be won by massive casualties with little to no reward #and prioritizing saving the clones OVER necessary victories in the war #the jedi are doing the former to my perspective #if they weren't i think the republic would've been a lot worse off just in general #unless we're about to start claiming that the clones and/or civilian officers were doing all of the real work instead of the jedi #which i personally would not #esp since we see the jedi sitting there going over battle plans and coming up with their own strategies quite often #tarkin's opinion on the matter is suspect - don't take his word for it when he says the jedi are too soft

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touyaspeach · 10 months

Text

Warmth and Lies | Gepard Landau

Tags: mutual pining, accidental confession WC: 1.2k AN: Thanks to @yarnnerdally for the request! I rolled randomly for the characters and it landed on Gepard! Summary: You deliver lunch to your crush and get hurt on the way causing him to confess his feelings unexpectedly.

It wasn't supposed to happen this way. You knew it the moment the words fell from his lips.

Throughout your years of knowing the strong, stalwart Captain, you had come to care for him, that was no doubt. But his feelings toward you, as far as you were concerned, stayed platonic, if not familial. It's fine, really. As long as you got to be a part of his life, that's what mattered more than anything to you.

Over time it had become your habit to bring him lunches and dinners during the week, a welcome warmth against the bitter cold and ruthless battle. He'd come to anticipate this little ritual, and he'd always greet you as far away from the front lines as possible in order to keep you safe. Your guardian, your protector. He took this aspect of his job very seriously.

Only, today he was late; a strategy meeting run too long. And although your path of travel was generally secure and free of fragmentum monsters, today was the unfortunate exception. A culmination of bad luck manifested in precisely the right way, at the right time, to lead to... this.

Your injuries weren't bad, so really he wasn't sure why he fussed quite so much about them. (That is the first lie.) You were fine, it really was just a scratch as you had insisted, so he had no reason to be so angry. (This is the second lie.)

The thought of you being grievously injured just to bring him lunch made him sick. Nausea swirled in his belly. He wouldn't have it. He wouldn't let you do this anymore, wouldn't let you put yourself in danger just to bring him a hot meal. It was that fear that drove you to this argument.

"I will not suffer anymore of this," Gepard said, his voice laced with restrained anger. "This has to stop now. It - it should have never begun in the first place."

His hands were fisted at his side, shaking, his grip on control loosening the tighter they coiled. His jaw was tight, the muscle popping in a way that belied just how angry he really was. How could he have been so foolish?

And truly, it wasn't fair. He'd saved you, regardless, and the scratch was from his gauntlet, not from the monster. How dare he take this tone of anger with you as if you were some frail, helpless child that needed protecting. How dare he-

"You're not being fair," your retaliation was calm, cool, and it made him grimace. You almost died, how could you remain so collected?? It baffled him.

You're right, he isn't being fair, and he knows it, and he can't figure out why it makes him so damn mad. (This is the third lie.)

"I've been bringing you food like this for years and you're going to lose your temper the first time I happen upon one of them? You do know I can take care of myself, right?"

He does know. He has known for as long as he's known you. But you shouldn't have to, he should be there to protect you-- to save you -- to be your knight. Your guard. Your--

"I'll take your silence as an agreement," you huffed, shoving the prepared box of food into his hands. "You can't stop me."

He should stop you. He should do anything within his power to stop you. He doesn't know what he'd do if he lost you. Don't you understand that? Don't you understand, "I love you."

That did stop you, mid-stride, after turning your back to him and marching toward the city. Turning back to look over your shoulder at Gepard, you really saw him for the first time today.

His head was hung low, dark circles framed his eyes, his blond hair far messier than usual. He was exhausted, he'd been on the front lines for days without rest. And he loved you.

"What?" It was all you could manage to say, turning to face him fully. Your voice was soft, emotion swelling in your throat and choking you.

"I-" he hadn't meant to say it. Hadn't acknowledged that it was true until the words spilled from his lips and poured into the air between you. He'd never admitted it to himself in all this time of knowing you. Years spent longing, yearning for you. How could he have when you were so far out of his league? So far out of his reach?

Gepard gulped, his mouth dry, his tongue too heavy to continue. It wasn't meant to happen like this. It wasn't mean to happen at all. But he'd said it, and he loved you, and it was the total, brutal truth.

By everything he knew to be holy, he loved you. He'd do anything for you, he realized, even if it meant driving you away to keep you safe. He'd do it, and he might regret it, but he'd do it anyway. If you turned your back now, rejected him, at least that meant you wouldn't endanger yourself just for... for... He looked down at the meal you'd prepared, just briefly. His favorite, of course, and it was still warm. You must've rushed here to give it to him.

He loved you, and the realization felt like the warmth of a hearthfire ignited in his chest and bloomed outward, thawing him from the inside. It chased away the bitterness from a moment ago, the anger, and filled him instead with a soft, gentle hopefulness that he'd long since suppressed. That he'd long since tried to ignore and push away.

And then, as soon as it came, it extinguished like a candle at midnight. How could someone like you ever see him in the same way? Someone so radiant and perfect and divine? Gepard pursed his lips, took a step away from you. It didn't matter, anyway. He was sure of your rejection and he wanted to get away from you as soon as possible to nurse the hurt that cut his heart to ribbons.

"Nothing," he dismissed.

"Say it again."

He started, blinked at you owlishly for a moment. Why would you want to hear it again? To laugh at him? Mock him?

"I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't say anything," another lie.

"Yes you do," you insisted, "please."

He inhaled slowly, shaking now for a different reason. Blue eyes watched you for a long moment, and you both knew that, if things were different, this moment should have been different. It should have been intimate and sweet and pregnant with love and adoration. Not this cold, bitter anger and hurt.

"I love you," he said on a sigh, and his eyes fell to the ice at his feet. How could he face your rejection head on? It hurt too badly for a love he'd only just now realized, and hadn't even had the chance to thoroughly explore. Hadn't had the chance to truly feel it's warmth before it was raked across the coals and doused in the cold of permanent winter.

Gepard's thoughts swirled like a blizzard in his mind, churning up ice and snow and burning, aching. He didn't notice you step toward him. He didn't notice you closing the distance until he felt the warmth of your palm against his cheek.

His eyes were ocean blue as he looked up at you, cerulean and clear and beautiful; and so full of everything.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this, but when your lips pressed against his, and every doubt vanished in the blink of an eye, he was glad it did.

#gepard fluff #hsr fluff #gepard x reader #requested

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esther-dot · 4 months

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Do you think Jon and Sansa will meet again at Castle Black, and from there, they will plan to take Winterfell? Or will Sansa take Winterfell on her own and reunite with Jon along the way? I’m of the idea of two lost souls who, when united, find the strength in each other to take the land of their family. But I don’t know, I haven’t finished the books yet so I need guidance on this.

I don’t consider myself an ASOIAF expert, anon so I don't offer guidance, but I will def share my thoughts with you!

In order to talk about this, I'm afraid there are some ADWD spoilers, though. If you mind that, maybe revisit this post after you've read it? Short version, I agree with you. Sansa should be involved in retaking Winterfell because we need a Stark there:

Battles had been fought at Winterfell before, but never one without a Stark on one side or the other. (ADWD, Jon VII)

but I think the reunion happens first because of the The Girl in Grey theory. I'll explain more below the cut due to the major Jon spoiler.

In ADWD, a character named Melisandre tells Jon about a vision she has:

She stood beneath the scorched stones of the Lord Commander's Tower, cloaked in darkness and in memory. The light of the moon was in her hair, her red hair kissed by fire. When he saw that, Jon's heart leapt into his mouth. "Ygritte," he said. "Lord Snow." The voice was Melisandre's. Surprise made him recoil from her. "Lady Melisandre." He took a step backwards. "I mistook you for someone else." At night all robes are grey. Yet suddenly hers were red. He did not understand how he could have taken her for Ygritte. She was taller, thinner, older, though the moonlight washed years from her face. Mist rose from her nostrils, and from pale hands naked to the night. "You will freeze your fingers off," Jon warned. "If that is the will of R'hllor. Night's powers cannot touch one whose heart is bathed in god's holy fire." "You heart does not concern me. Just your hands."

"The heart is all that matters. Do not despair, Lord Snow. Despair is a weapon of the enemy, whose name may not be spoken. Your sister is not lost to you." "I have no sister." The words were knives. What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister? Melisandre seemed amused. "What is her name, this little sister that you do not have?" "Arya." His voice was hoarse. "My half-sister, truly …" "… for you are bastard born. I had not forgotten. I have seen your sister in my fires, fleeing from this marriage they have made for her. Coming here, to you. A girl in grey on a dying horse, I have seen it plain as day. It has not happened yet, but it will." She gazed at Ghost. "May I touch your … wolf?" The thought made Jon uneasy. "Best not." "He will not harm me. You call him Ghost, yes?" "Yes, but …" "Ghost." Melisandre made the word a song. The direwolf padded toward her. Wary, he stalked about her in a circle, sniffing. When she held out her hand he smelled that too, then shoved his nose against her fingers. Jon let out a white breath. "He is not always so …" "… warm? Warmth calls to warmth, Jon Snow." Her eyes were two red stars, shining in the dark. At her throat, her ruby gleamed, a third eye glowing brighter than the others. Jon had seen Ghost's eyes blazing red the same way, when they caught the light just right. "Ghost," he called. "To me." The direwolf looked at him as if he were a stranger. Jon frowned in disbelief. "That's … queer." "You think so?" She knelt and scratched Ghost behind his ear. "Your Wall is a queer place, but there is power here, if you will use it. Power in you, and in this beast. You resist it, and that is your mistake. Embrace it. Use it." I am not a wolf, he thought. "And how would I do that?" "I can show you." Melisandre draped one slender arm over Ghost, and the direwolf licked her face. "The Lord of Light in his wisdom made us male and female, two parts of a greater whole. In our joining there is power. Power to make life. Power to make light. Power to cast shadows." "Shadows." The world seemed darker when he said it. "Every man who walks the earth casts a shadow on the world. Some are thin and weak, others long and dark. You should look behind you, Lord Snow. The moon has kissed you and etched your shadow upon the ice twenty feet tall." Jon glanced over his shoulder. The shadow was there, just as she had said, etched in moonlight against the Wall. A girl in grey on a dying horse, he thought. Coming here, to you. Arya. He turned back to the red priestess. Jon could feel her warmth. She has power. The thought came unbidden, seizing him with iron teeth, but this was not a woman he cared to be indebted to, not even for his little sister. "Dalla told me something once. Val's sister, Mance Rayder's wife. She said that sorcery was a sword without a hilt. There is no safe way to grasp it." "A wise woman." Melisandre rose, her red robes stirring in the wind. "A sword without a hilt is still a sword, though, and a sword is a fine thing to have when foes are all about. Hear me now, Jon Snow. Nine crows flew into the white wood to find your foes for you. Three of them are dead. They have not died yet, but their death is out there waiting for them, and they ride to meet it. You sent them forth to be your eyes in the darkness, but they will be eyeless when they return to you. I have seen their pale dead faces in my flames. Empty sockets, weeping blood." She pushed her red hair back, and her red eyes shone. "You do not believe me. You will. The cost of that belief will be three lives. A small price to pay for wisdom, some might say … but not one you had to pay. Remember that when you behold the blind and ravaged faces of your dead. And come that day, take my hand." The mist rose from her pale flesh, and for a moment it seemed as if pale, sorcerous flames were playing about her fingers. "Take my hand," she said again, "and let me save your sister." (ADWD, Jon VI)

The vision keeps coming up and dictates some of Jon's decisions. Jeyne Poole (Sansa's friend) was forced to marry Ramsay in the guise of being Arya, she escapes, and people expect her to reunite with Jon and be the girl in grey (escaping a marriage, she was pretending to be his sister). Others point to Alys Karstark who runs to Jon to escape a marriage. The problem is, Mel doesn't know who it is, she only knows sister. People pick Jeyne because of the Arya connection, but neither she nor Alys are Jon's sister. And Jon has another sister, Sansa.

I would argue the reason that the girl in grey is Sansa (ie Sansa will flee North to escape LF's plots and reunite with Jon before Winterfell is taken/she is in a position of power), is if you read Jon's passage about the girl in grey, Jon being dead is written all over it. His white breath, the reference to him as a stranger, Jon telling himself he isn't a wolf...you see, here is the major spoiler...

Jon is assassinated at the end of TWOW.

Now, he may not actually be dead-dead, some of us have said he might be in a coma like Bran, but a) we believe he warged into Ghost (I am not a wolf--he will need to come back to himself, not lose himself in Ghost), b) the stranger = Jon is dead, c) the white breath = his body being cold cuz he's dead etc. The other side of this is, the way Jon sees Mel and remembers a different redhead can be viewed as foreshadowing for recently undead Jon seeing a redhead and mistaking her for Ygritte. The description of Mel's words like a song made people think of Sansa (it's been speculated Sansa's singing will help Jon remember things post rez/help him return to himself), and Ghost's strangely positive reaction to Mel may foreshadow how he reacts to Sansa as a familiar person. So, when I read that passage, it sounded to me like Sansa and Jon will be reuniting shortly after his rez, or even perhaps before his rez, so yes, I imagine that happens at the Wall.

Way back in 2013, a famous Jonsa essay predicted that Jon and Sansa would be reunited first of all the Starks, and then in 2016 that happened on the show which spurred a lot more discussion in the Jonsa fandom about Sansa being the girl in grey in the books as well.

I'll link some additional posts with various thoughts on how it might go.

Jon as the Stranger, Sansa as a silent sister. Pertinent quotes:

Then one morning she spied three women in the cowled grey robes of the silent sisters loading a corpse into their wagon. (ACOK, Arya VII) The women in grey bowed their heads. The silent sisters do not speak to the living, Catelyn remembered dully, but some say they can talk to the dead. (ACOK, Catelyn V) Grey was the color of the silent sisters, the handmaidens of the Stranger. (AFFC, Brienne VIII) When we find the Imp, we will find the Lady Sansa too. She is not dead . . . but before I am done with her, I promise you, she will be singing to the Stranger, begging for his kiss." (AFFC, Cersei IV)

@loveroflemons wrote a post in 2017 talking about Mel's prophecy and the map of the North to explain why Sansa is the Girl in Grey here. @une-nuit-pour-se-souvenir has a post explaining that Sansa is Ned's narrative heir and her path North will follow his here, and some general ideas for her TWOW story here.

@istumpysk talks about The Girl in Grey foreshadowing here. @aegor-bamfsteel tried to give us a time table here, @redteabaron has talked about the possibility that Sansa will be hunted by Ramsay for some Red Riding Hood parallels here, That and Sansa meeting Ghost while Jon is still out of it is discussed here as well. And this post talks about Jon saving Sansa from Ramsay while warged into Ghost using some king’s prize/thief quotes. I also found a Tolkien poem (Martin is a massive fan) that has Girl in Grey vibes here (not proof, just fun).

Anyway, it's a very popular Jonsa theory, for many of us, a given at this point. For a different ask i scrolled some BNF blogs and they mocked it a lot, called us delusional because they can point to the other girls as fulfilling the prophecy, but to me, that prophecy takes up too much space for it to disappear without a real payoff. It makes sense to me that Martin would use that vision to prep us for Sansa arriving in the North.

Let me know what you think after you read ADWD!

#soon i'll post links for book verse girl in grey fics anon #not meta but jonsa fics have a funny habit of predicting things to come!#jonsa #dot chat #the girl in grey

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snippy-tano · 1 year

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What about a rex x reader where the reader works for the GAR (with the 501st specifically) and is often like really close to battles so Anakin wants them to get some training in combat so he asks Rex to train them and they end up falling for each other 👀

i am on a roll my friends. and i plan on riding this and getting as many requests done as i possibly can, so send any ideas my way!

this was is an older request so i apologize it has taken me this long to get here, but i hope you like it enough that you forgive me for taking so long to complete it.

warning: this is full of tropes. totally full of them. but i couldn't help it!

let me know what you think! thank you to all of you for taking the time to read this and sharing it! your comments and reblogs truly mean the world to me. thank you thank you thank you for reading this! :)

masterlist is here!

taglist is here!

tagging:@pro-fangirls-unsocial-life; @marvel-starwars-nerd; @mackstrut; @dissapointingpancake; @ahsokatano-thetogruta; @welcometothepedroverse; @lightningwolffe; @fractiouskat; @mandaloriandin; @lussyyung; @lowkeyodinsong; @str-wrs-fics; @bantha-shit; @badbatch-simp24; @katelynnwrites; @s1st3r; @leotatombs; @torchbearerkyle; @rain-on-kamino; @the-navistar-carol; @bombshe77; @arctrooper69; @social-mockingbird; @luna-schaf; @oh-delphinia; @dominhoe-squad; @kaermorons; @lucyysthings; @quizznag; @dangraccoon

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

Late Night Training

You’re not sure what you did to end up here, but you suppose you had only your horrible self-preservation skills and a serious lack of luck.

By all accounts, you should not be anywhere near battle, ever. You were a mechanic and you practically lived in the hanger repairing ships and droids and practically anything else that breaks on the Resolute. You were the go-to if anything happened and you didn’t mind. You have always been good with your hands and you liked puzzles. It was a perfect match.

But somehow, you always seemed to find yourself in the heat of battle.

The first time was a total accident. You had forgotten something aboard a gunship and didn’t realize the ship had taken off until you were already enroute to the excursion. The second you did intentionally go down to the planet, but you did not intend to stumble across a lost battalion of droids.

And the time after that. And the time after that.

Basically, you were cursed.

Which is what prompted a few of the troopers to send a request up the proverbial flagpole asking that you get some training. Clearly their efforts to make sure you didn’t end up in battle were not working.

General Skywalker approved the request and assigned “the best fighter in the GAR.”

Captain Rex.

You had met the Captain a few times, but your meetings were always quick and work related. He was pleasant enough and you admired his work ethic and how he managed to keep the 501st on track. The troopers you interacted with all looked up to him highly and it was easy to understand why they cared so much. Rex just seemed incredibly kind.

You weren’t sure about this whole “training” thing, but you figured if Captain Rex was willing to teach you, it might not be so bad.

Actually nevermind. You totally regretted this.

Captain Rex was wonderful.

He was patient with you, excellent at explaining things, didn’t treat you like you didn’t know anything (even though you didn’t), and you could definitely see that this training was going to help you.

But you were dying.

You were by no means out of shape. You were on your feet all day and were pretty strong from lifting heavy machinery. By normal standards, you were pretty healthy and took care of yourself, for the most part.

But the training Rex was putting you through was definitely going to kill you before you even got the chance to put it to use.

“Come on. On your feet cadet.” Rex said and you had never wanted to hit him more. Too bad your arm was numb.

You weren’t even sure your arm was attached anymore.

You let out a groan. “Captain. I think I see the light. I think this is it for me.”

Rex chuckled. “That’s not going to happen. Now come on, up you come.”

Muttering some choice words under your breath, you shakily climbed to your feet with a helping hand from the Captain. When you were on your feet, you let out a louder groan, head thrown backwards.

“Captain, I truly don’t see how I am going to get better if I can’t even lift my arms anymore.” You whined.

“If you can’t feel your arms, you are doing it right.” He said, almost sounding far too amused. “Now come on, back to your base.”

You continued to whine, but your legs and arms did slowly move into the base fighting position Rex had taught you all those weeks ago when your training first started. The first few training exercises happened in the main training facility and occurred in the middle of the day. But it was clear it would be hard to get anything done with all the men watching, so you moved your training to the middle of the night. It wasn’t ideal, but you were a night person by nature and Rex just never seemed to sleep. The arrangement worked out.

And you were starting to enjoy your time with the Captain.

Before, you never really had the chance to speak with him. But this training gave you the chance to speak with him more regularly and chat about nearly everything. You learned a lot about him in the weeks since your training began and you found yourself waiting for training (despite dying every time) because it was uninterrupted time with the Captain.

Rex fell into a ready stance as well and you took a deep breath.

Come on body. Don’t fail me now.

He began to move and you started to move too, countering his attack with moves he taught you. Rex moved slower than you knew he could, probably so you could get used to recognizing attacks and beginning a counterattack. You went through a few sequences with him, able to keep up despite your aching body.

Then he moved faster, catching your arm in a hold you hadn’t seen before. Your eyes snapped to his and you could see a smirk playing on the corner of his lips.

Fine. Two could play at that game.

Using the knowledge he gave you, you moved, shaking him off your arm and managing to knock him off balance, just for a second. Rex regained his balance and watched you drop into a stance with a smile on your face.

“What? Did you think you were my only teacher?”

Rex laughed once before lunging forward.

Your body moved on autopilot. He was attacking significantly faster than you had practiced and despite that, your body adjusted almost immediately, matching his tempo. Every muscle was screaming at you, but the adrenaline was keeping you moving. You dodged his fist, kicked out your leg, took a hit to the ribs (that would definitely bruise later), doled out a hit to his stomach.

Blows were being traded and you were honestly surprised you were still standing. Normally he had taken you down by now.

As it turns out, you spoke too soon.

Rex managed to grab your arm again and with a jab to the side, you were off balance. Which was the opening he needed to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you into him, placing you in a headlock. He wasn’t actually cutting off your air supply, but you were not getting out of it.

“Do you yield?” He asked, just as out of breath as you were. Which was comforting.

You tried to get out of it. Tried to step on his feet, he kept them out of reach. Tried to elbow him, he’d move and the blow would not carry the same weight. Tried to wiggle, no luck.

“Come on, yield.” Rex said again and you almost caved. Almost.

But he was far too pleased with himself and that made you angry.

So, you cheated.

Well, technically you cheated by the standards of sparring, but in an actual fight, tricks were on the table. And you were shameless in your desire to win.

You bit his arm.

Not hard, just enough that he was startled and loosened his hold for a second. You yanked yourself out from his headlock, spun on your heels, and threw your shoulder and body against his center. Normally it wouldn’t be enough to knock him down, but he had been surprised and off-balance which is exactly what you needed.

He crashed to the floor with you right behind him. Without thinking, you scrambled for purchase and pinned him to the worn mat with your hands and legs. You were grinning when you looked down at him. Rex blinked a few times before his eyes focused on you. He didn’t say anything at first, just assessed the situation.

Then he chuckled. “I’ll admit, that was clever.” “Really?” You gasped, still grinning. “I thought for sure you’d be mad because it’s against the rules, but you also taught me that if I had an opening I should take it, no matter what.”

“I did teach you that didn’t I?”

You nodded vigorously as he let out a sigh.

“You didn’t technically win because you cheated, but you have improved beyond what I expected at this stage.” Rex said and you rolled your eyes, releasing his arms and sitting back.

“Oh come on!” You whined. “I totally beat you.”

Rex sat up, fixing you with his gaze. “You cheated, so it doesn’t count.”

You groaned. “Fine. But next time, I will win fair and square.”

He smiled and it was only then that you realized just how…compromising your position currently is. Rex seemed to realize this at the same time because he froze. Throughout your training, you had gotten closer to Rex, both emotionally and physically. But that was very much in the heat of the moment while sparring. This was something different. And you found that your stomach fluttered at the thought.

It happened a few times before, a situation similar to this, but both of you were always quick to step away, letting whatever was happening fizzle. You weren’t here for that. And besides, there was no way the Captain felt any sort of similar affection for you that was now constantly bubbling under your skin. So if he didn't notice the glance at his lips that you snuck, that was perfectly fine with you.

Rex seemed to stay frozen in place, but he didn’t move away, like you had expected him to. You felt your heart start to accelerate for an entirely different reason and felt yourself sway just a bit closer. It was then when your brain caught up with what was happening and you quickly scrambled off of him, not making eye contact while you waited for him to get to his feet.

“You did good tonight and I think someday, you might just have a shot at beating me.” He said and you looked at him.

“Just a shot?”

“Just a shot.”

You crossed your arms and let out an annoyed huff. He was probably right, but it still hurt your pride just a tad.

Rex looked at the time displayed on the wall before looking back at you. “We haven’t done this yet, but we have some time before the end of the session. What do you say to learning how to shoot a blaster?”

The slight wound to your ego was immediately forgotten at his words. You’d been begging him to teach you to shoot since your training started. You learned as a kid once, but it was so long ago that you didn’t trust yourself to have any semblance of aim.

“Yes! Kriff Captain, teach me!”

Rex chuckled at your enthusiasm and motioned for you to follow him. You practically floated the entire way across the training room to where there were targets lining the walls and training blasters. He approached a target and a blaster and you waited, hands clasped in front of you to keep you still.

He held up the blaster and began pointing. “This is just a training blaster, but this is where you would change between the blaster and its stun setting. It’s important that you have a good grip on the handle and a steady hand.”

“I’m a mechanic, Captain. My hands are some of the steadiest.”

He let out a breath before carefully placing the blaster in your hands. You let him position your hand and you did your best to commit it all to memory. When he was sure you had the grip down, he stepped back and motioned to the target. “Take a shot. I want to see your form.” Rex stated, crossing his arms.

You turned towards the target and raised your arm with the blaster. You cocked your head to the side and squeezed an eye shut, focusing on the target. Then you fired.

And it missed by an embarrassing amount.

Your face crinkled as you stared at the slight seared mark on the wall.

“Alright. Not bad for the first try. Let’s fix your stance.” He said, stepping a bit closer. He tapped the side of your head and you straightened it. “Don’t close your eye, you’re limiting your vision that way. And keep your head level.”

His foot tapped yours and you moved your back foot a little further so your feet were shoulder width apart.

“Do you mind?” He asked and you turned to see him with his hands raised, hovering near you, but waiting for your permission.

You felt your cheeks warm as you quickly looked away. “Go ahead.”

He stepped right behind you and you felt your breath hitch. His hands were gentle on your hips, pivoting you until you were in the correct posture. Then one hand lifted, pushing the shoulder of the arm that held the blaster down. Then his hand moved slowly down your arm, making the fluttering in your stomach return with a vengeance. His hand eventually reached yours and enclosed your own.

“Take a deep breath.” His voice was in your ear and it was sending a shiver down your spine.

Easier said than done. You thought.

You had no idea if he was aware of the effect he was having on you, but this was quickly becoming the trickiest part of training yet. And it wasn’t because it was difficult.

It was entirely because of Rex.

When you didn’t take a breath like he had instructed, his hand gave your hip a squeeze that caused you to gasp more audibly. You swallowed it quickly, forcing your lungs to take a deep breath.

“Good. Now look at the target and focus on where you want the blast to hit.” You focused entirely on what he was telling you, it was the only way you were getting through this without completely embarrassing yourself. “When you’re ready, slowly pull the trigger.”

The blast sounded and you watched as the blast hit the target. It wasn’t dead center, but it was pretty kriffing close.

“I did it!” You gasped, turning to look at Rex with a large grin on your face. “Captain, I did it!”

Without thinking, you turned in his arms and threw your arms around his neck, squeezing tightly. He hesitated for a moment and it was enough for you to realize just what you had done.

“Oh. I’m sorry, I just got excited. Forget-” You stammered, your heels hitting the mat as you began to unwind your arms from his neck.

But you stopped when his hands tightened on your waist. You looked at him, his face inches from yours. His eyes slowly opened and the gaze he fixed you with had you holding your breath. His eyes scanned your face and you just waited, wanting to see exactly what he was thinking.

While you may have surprised Rex earlier by biting his arm, it was his turn to completely surprise you.

Rex tipped his head forward and just like that, he was kissing you. It was clumsy, your own surprise evident. But almost immediately, you were over the shock and absolutely melting against him. It was almost embarrassing how quickly you sagged against him, arms winding back around his neck to pull him closer. Rex’s hands fisted in your shirt and you still wanted him closer. He obliged and there was practically no way to tell where he ended and you began, but that’s exactly how you wanted it.

You did have to pull away, when the need for air became too great. You didn’t stray far, your nose bumping against his as you tried to catch your breath. Rex’s forehead thumped lightly against yours.

“Is this your way of one-upping me Captain?” You asked and he let out a low chuckle.

“Did it work?”

“Annoyingly, yes.”

His eyes opened to meet yours and you shared a smile. “Call me Rex.”

You lifted a hand to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing against his skin. “Alright, but you better do that again when I do.”

He nodded and you looked him in the eyes.

“Rex.”

True to his word, Rex captured your lips once again and you followed willingly. This was your favorite training exercise so far and you hoped that it would continue for many rotations to come.

Who knew that your uncanny ability to constantly find yourself in battle would lead to such an interesting outcome. But honestly, you’d do it all over again as long as you ended up here, in this exact moment with Rex by your side.

[And the very next time you accidentally ended up in battle, you had been able to hold your own, taking down a few clankers along the way. Rex had never looked prouder.]

#aaaah #this was so fun #asks #askBri #rex x reader #captain rex x reader #clone x reader #tcw #sw #the clone wars

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sunofpandora · 5 months

Text

This a concept im exploring for a new Neteyam x reader series I’m working on called ‘Virago.’

A story about a warrior!reader X neteyam who’s been raised with a ‘I don’t need anyone but myself’ mindset.

The story follows the path of Neteyam and the reader finding sanctuary within eachother and the reader trusting neteyam to protect her even from battles that aren’t his to fight.

I love the idea of projecting some of Jake and Neytiri’s live story elements into Neteyam x Reader works.

As I’m writing this, something came to me that I think should be shared 🤷🏽‍♀️

Before anyone comes for me, I just wanna say I love Jeytiri with a passion.

Don’t get me wrong. Jake and neytiri raised this fandom. The og’s fr. I’m telling my kids and my grandkids about them. They are my favorite love story.

A man who leaves his entire planet for the woman he loves?

Ugh. We all need a Jake.

…BUT

What if In the next avatar movie Neytiri can’t find herself to forgive Jake?

Not to the point where it forms a void between them to a point of resentment, but in a general sense of starting to loose some trust in him?

The RDA returning is in no way, shape or form Jake’s fault, and neither is Neteyam’s death.

But Neytiri entrusted Jake and held him to his promises when he vowed to protect their children, and a good 70% of that movie were the kids being kidnapped, bullied, kidnapped, threatened, tied up, abducted, and just generally traumatized because of someone from Jake’s past life.

Jake sully is a character who is haunted by his own shadow.

According to the visual dictionary,

“Jake is tempered by his concerns for his family and the guilt he feels for the lives he lost all those years ago.”

Truly a tragic character in his own rite.

He can never seem to escape this shadow of who he used to be.

Quite literally being hunted down by a former enemy.

But let’s discuss Neytiri for a moment.

A woman of the forest, fierce and beautiful. Loyal to her people and her culture.

She will never truly understand every aspect of the repercussions of Jake’s actions.

Why? Because Jake has embraced the motto of ‘the family protector’

Which is a positive feat, of course.

And that he does. Jake proves himself to be a good father and protective of his children 100%.

But Neytiri looks at this side of Jake’s past life through a window.

Not a mirror.

A window of

‘Oh. The sky people are gone. My family is safe’.

And then colonel Scarface 2.0 comes back to fuck her shit up.

Jake is a good father. May that fact not be lost on us as audience.

I wish sometimes we could see into the tortured mind of Neytiri.

But we can’t. So let’s review some facts.

Where does Jake come from? Earth.

Who did he work for? The RDA.

What does the RDA do? Mine resources and fuck shit up.

Neytiri’s father, sister, ikran, son, a good portion of the fellow na’vi who were apart of the omaticaya in the first movie? Dead.

What do these things have in common?

All their lives were taken by the RDA and the humans.

I’m not usually one to quote myself, but for those of you who have read my fic ‘diaphanous’

“Trust is a fragile thing. And most protect fragile things.”

“It's a cruel joke, really. Disguising something as binding as affection, to cradle someone's heart within the palms of your hands, to build it a home out of glass and shatter it.”

Neytiri trusted Jake.

Jake says to her,

“Look I've got nothing. I got no plan. But I can protect this family, that I can do. But I know one thing. Wherever we go, this family is our fortress.”

He can protect his family….that he can do…

#avatar the way of water #jake avatar #neteyam #neteyam x reader #kiri sully #avatar fanfiction #lo’ak x reader #neytiri #neteyam x you #neteyam sully

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comradekatara · 2 months

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Hello! So this is not quite an ask but THANK YOU for doing god's work of injecting some actual nuance, defending bolin (among other things), critiquing the comics, and all the plot holes/things that just don't make sense which become glaringly obvious if one thinks about any aspect for more than two seconds (lol but you know this already duh) and am only annoyed I did not stumble upon this blog sooner, since I am so done with this show (but also I keeping at it like the scabs). Also, your art is delightful! If you still require an ask, do you perchance write fanfic? (it's possible you might have mentioned it but sometimes I can't read lol)

Have a good day!

hello, and thank you! also it’s funny that defending bolin is the first thing you list because I thought I made it pretty clear that I think his character is direly poorly-written and that I do not care for him. but… you’re welcome I guess? but yes obviously critiquing the comics and imbuing nuance and all of that I will definitely gladly take credit for. and thank you for liking my art! i do occasionally write fanfic, but i’ve only ever shown it to my friends and never actually posted it anywhere, so functionally, my answer would be no. i have debated posting it in the past, but idk, i don’t think that would be a good idea. maybe someday i’ll snap tho who knows.

as for your other ask…

Also because I clicked on the ask button before I had a brain fart (so if this would come off a bit deranged for posting an ask right after the first my apologies), I also want to mention the commentary that Iroh being 'everyone's favourite sexist' is gold because we just gloss over that and no one ever seems to mention that scene. Another thing about atla is that the reason given for Zuko's constant internal struggle and conflict is because he's descended from the previous avatar and the fire lord but hello, Azula?? Did Ursa have an affair now?? Isn't she just as worthy of redemption, or the fact she's just as abused anyhoo ok im done

I mean I’m assuming by “that scene” you mean the one with june, but tbh his misogyny isn’t relegated to simply one unpalatable scene. it’s reflected in how he treats azula (versus zuko) across the show. and I know that zuko is softer and more amenable than azula, and he has demonstrated a desire to do good that azula hasn’t, but it’s also quite troubling that iroh just writes off his fourteen year old niece as a lost cause when she is also the sibling who most resembles him. and he somehow just can’t seem to understand that she is worthy of the same empathy and compassion and understanding as zuko is, that playing favorites like this isn’t good or normal. and I actually think that azula has it way worse than iroh, both because she’s a girl and because azulon seemed to love iroh conditionally (despite clearly not feeling the same about ozai), whereas ozai’s love for azula is incredibly conditional and does not exempt her from his violence. but you know. her hysterical wandering womb is outta control she needs to go down she cant be trusted she’s a sickopath!!!! like. ok old man.

as for your next point, I do think that what iroh says about zuko’s ancestry reflecting the ideological battle within him is fully bullshit, but I do reconcile that by interpreting iroh’s claims not as what he truly believes, but as a rhetorical point he thinks might get through to zuko. because he’s really run the gamut of wisdom and guidance, some of it even being contradictory, just in an attempt to pierce through zuko’s thick, stubborn skull. and it does pay off, eventually, but it takes ages to get there. like how much do you wanna bet his first approach was to just straight up be like “your father is an abuser and you shouldn’t adhere to his dogmas.” and then when that didn’t work he started getting creative with it. and like, the reason it gets through to zuko isn’t even because roku was his great grandfather, but because he was ursa’s grandfather. and realizing that he too can be good and stand up for what he believes in, like her, his true role model, is his ultimate takeaway from that lesson. but I really do think by that point iroh’s rhetorical strategy was really to just throw vaguely pertinent metaphors at the wall to see what sticks.

#traegern #asks #iroh #zuko #azula #iroh&zuko #azula&iroh #azula&ozai #ursa&zuko #analysis #also thank u for calling it ‘fanfic’ and not ‘fic’ this is rly a pet peeve of mine #fiction????? just any fiction????????#(i do also write ‘fic’ in this sense but like. that’s a completely different question)

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zvtara-was-never-canon · 19 days

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i'm not a zvtara shipper in any significant way, but sometimes i can't help but see aang as slightly hypocritical. i get that he managed to let go of katara in CoD, but i don't understand how exactly he let go of her but was still super into her in all of s3. what does "you need to let her go" even means? also, i get that he doesn't want to kill ozai at the end of the series, but what about the times he hurt people in ways that would result in deadly injuries? (i don't hold the end of S1 against him since he was being used as vessel by the ocean spirit, i'm mostly talking about the avalanche he caused on the northern air temple episode)

When Aang leaves the Guru, despite knowing he won't master the Avatar State at all if he left at that point, he did it because he literally ahd a vision of Katara being in danger. When he is letting go of his attachment in that season finale, he gives one last glance at Katara, who is in the middle of a battle, because he knows that the only way to truly help her would be to trust that she will be okay and focus on preventing the Fire Nation from winning.

On the episode "The Awakening", when Aang is panicking and wanting to reveal to the world that he is alive and fight the Fire Lord without a plan, he goes alone. On the day of the eclipse, he kisses Katara, but they go their separate ways in the battle, instead of him being close by in case she needs him.

The "learn to let her go" thing has NEVER been about him no longer being allowed to be in love with her, or even a close friend, and it was never a fully black and white issue either - that's why we see IROH, the guy who lost his son because he chose his quest for power over thinking as parent and thus keeping him away from the battlefield, telling Aang that he is right to choose love above everything. Why we have Katara be the one to literally bring Aang back from the dead. Why the Guru himself explicitly uses Aang's love for Katara as a way to make him strong enough to deal with the grief of losing his people, and why he says "Learn to let her go" not "Forget about her" (there's a reason the cliche of all cliche lines is "If you love someone, set them free" - attachment existing, by itself, it's not a bad thing, but holding onto it ALL the time can get toxic).

Hakoda let his children go when left to fight in the war, doesn't mean he no longer cares or shouldn't care. Iroh let Zuko go in book 3 because at that point he had understood that his nephew needed to follow his own path, doesn't mean he no longer cared or shouldn't have cared anymore. Why is Aang the only one being held to an absurd standard of "If you understood that you can't always be with the people you care about because you got other responsibilities besides just being their friend, that means you're supposed to never want them around even when that wouldn't negatively affect anything"?

As for Aang's supposed "fatal victims" - this is a cartoon that operates on cartoon physics. The Omashu slide/mail system on episode 5 should have left the heroes permanently paralyzed from waist/neck down, assuming they didn't full on die because the human body simply can't survive a fall like that. Firebenders don't burn themselves when practically holding the flame they're generating, nor when they literally breathe fire. We've seen some of the bad guys survive falling down from an airship and hitting the ocean, in full armor, and be completely unharmed.

The show had casualties - but it was always highlighted a fatal injury instead of glossing over it. There's a reason the showrunners were surprised fans ever thought there was even the slightest chance Jet had not died. In a world where people survive absurd stuff, the show suddenly changing the tune to go "Actually this one screwed over some people" is the ONE way to know there actually was a death, and these situations are still the exception, not the rule.

"Oh but Nichya, it was an avalanche!" yes, much like the one in Mulan - a cartoon that is famous for going "Ya know what, the bad guys didn't die despite being buried in the snow long enough that all the good guys left, and only after a major plot event." It's almost like animation does that kind of stuff all the time...

You can't apply real world logic/physics to a cartoon, and it's very weird that the fandom only feels like doing so in the explicit attempt to create a reason to hate on Aang because they don't like that a pacifist remained a pacifist.

#anti zutara #pro kataang #pro aang #aang deserved better #aang defense squad #respect aang or die by my sword

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blueskittlesart · 1 year

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Tell me your thoughts on the link is dead in MM theory?

yeah ok. i feel like it's pretty widely known at this point that i do not care for it but let's really go into why. in the post that i assume prompted this ask i compared it to a similar permadeath botw theory in that i feel both theories only work if one ignores the central theme of the game in question. in terms of theme, majora's mask and botw are quite similar. both feature a highly traumatized link after a hard-reset of his life and follow the beginning of his healing process.

majora's mask features the hero of time after the timeline reset. He is physically a nine-year-old boy, but he has spent significant time in the body of a sixteen-year old and he has spent much of his life essentially as a child soldier without any regard for his feelings. he has fought monsters that adults twice his size and age refused to get within 200 feet of, and NO ONE REMEMBERS THIS, because in order to restore hyrule to what it once was he went back and stopped it all before it even began. understanding what has been done to link and how he remembers the events of oot are crucial to understanding mm.

now we have the actual setting of mm, termina. termina is deliberately strange and off-putting immediately upon entering it. you as the player are meant to pick up on the fact that something is off about your surroundings. the entire game plays this up--something is Wrong about termina. you're never supposed to be completely sure if it's real or a dreamscape. truly, i don't fault people for looking at a deliberately offputting, dreamlike, horror-filled world like termina and equating it to some sort of afterlife. the skull kid himself is often interpreted as a metaphor for death in oot--being a child who wandered into the forest and never came out. (i personally see it more as a reflection of oot's greater themes of coming-of-age and adult/child relationships, but that's a point for another post.) i do understand that the evidence for the theory is THERE, and that the tendency to want to explain away the offputting environment of termina as link being dead is kind of natural. but I think it's worth examining WHY termina is the way it is; how its weird vibe ties back to mm's central themes and link's story arc within it. and when you do, in my opinion, the theory falls apart pretty quickly.

majora's mask is a story about healing from trauma. Link, as previously mentioned, is a child soldier who feels trapped between childhood and adulthood and who has seen firsthand that nothing he does matters because in the end no one but him will remember it. termina is designed to enforce this point of view, initially. link can do everything in his power to help the people of termina, to fix their problems, to be a good kid, but at the end of those 3 days no matter what he does the moon will always come crashing down and he will always have to reset. no one will remember him. he can't change anything, not really. but as you play through the game, you find one thing that DOESN'T go away with each reset--the masks. these are given as rewards for link's good deeds--physical representations of the good he has done, even after everything resets. even though he remains trapped in this cycle, he gains a little something for every person he helps, something that can't be taken away from him. he begins to have hope that everything he does isn't in vain. he begins to HEAL.

on the final cycle, when you've completed all the dungeons and you stop the moon, the game performs a check to see if you have all the masks. if you've done every one of the side quests and helped the people in termina, even though they don't remember it. the check comes in the form of a game of hide-and-seek, a metaphorical return to the childhood that link feels he has lost. if every mask has been collected, link receives the fierce diety mask, making the final battle with majora quite a bit easier. he becomes more powerful because he has taken the time to grow and heal and learn that what he does matters no matter if people remember him or not. this is a central point of majora's mask. and when he wins, when he comes out the other side, the message that greets the player is "Dawn of a new day." a promise that the story will continue. a promise of many more days to come. a promise that the cycle has been broken and everyone in termina, link included, can finally begin to truly live.

again, i think the tendency to equate an obviously metaphorical dreamlike world like termina to an afterlife is somewhat natural. but to suggest that link is dead in the context of a game that is fundamentally about link HEALING and continuing to LIVE is kind of ridiculous imo. a world can be strange and function as a metaphor without being an afterlife. the tendency to try to explain termina's oddity is natural, but the fact that it's not explained is part of the point. whether it really exists or not doesn't matter, what matters is that the spiritual journey link went on DID happen, and he came out the other side able to continue living. he broke the cycle. now a new day can begin. THAT is the point of majora's mask. if link is dead, then that point loses ALL of its impact. what awaits link after breaking termina's cycle if he's dead?? to me, it's tantamount to suggesting his fate WAS sealed. that it's TRUE that nothing he did mattered and he was too late to truly change anything. nothing you do matters when you're dead. mm just functions so much better on a thematic level if link is allowed to continue living in the aftermath.

#asks #zelda analysis #this isnt the first time ive explained this but the zelda fandom never ceases with its bad takes sooo

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lafaiette · 2 months

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I finally found Pen's Chinese romance lines :')

(You can find more comparisons here and here by the way)

First, something sweet to start with: Jasmine calls Pen, Burgess, and Miguel "uncle"! (叔叔)

Jasmine to Andy: Uncle Peng Hu thinks he's the most beautiful man in the world. We can secretly put a mirror in his room, so he'll look at it all day long and we can sneak out to play!

And now, I'll start with the Romance Quest - I included only the Chinese version of the dialogue happening after giving him the Heart Knot, because the post is already pretty long!

Chinese: Well... little weakling, you gave me this Heart Knot. I thought about it seriously... You have always been nice to me. You often praise me, give me gifts, and help me run errands everywhere. Maybe I have really found the one, the most special person to me. Someone who loves me as much as I love myself! Oh, this is so surprising to me... Little weakling, before we go further with our current relationship, I have to speak with you. I have to make sure you are sincere to me! Everyone knows that I am a golden bachelor. If you are with me just to show off and make yourself look good at some workshop awards ceremony, I will not allow it! What I want is true love... And I still have to understand if my fascination with you is not just for your body, but also for your personality… Yes, that's right. All this time, I called you "little weakling", not because of contempt for your figure, but because I couldn't take my eyes away when I saw your small body without muscles. It’s like seeing an uncultivated land with unlimited room for exercise. It’s so charming! There is only one way to test whether there is love between us... and that is - Fighting! An adrenaline-filled battle! Drenched in sweat, bloody, and bare-knuckled! Yes, the fastest way to get to know someone is to fight with them! Builder: 1) Then let’s go! -> Pen: Good! Let's meet tomorrow at the gate of the Paradise Lost ruins. Let's fight side by side to destroy those robots from the corrupt era and beat fierce drumbeats on their remains with our fists! I’ll go first! Remember to wear protective gear and be prepared. All for romance! Builder: 2) After falling in love... shouldn't you go on a date? -> Pen: Haha, that's what ordinary people do. I don't care for those old-fashioned ways of falling in love. Only when fighting can I feel truly alive! Builder: 3) But we have already fought many times... -> Pen: Many times?! It's never enough! I'm a fighting expert! For me, this is true love, nothing else but pure fighting and strong love!

Meeting Pen in front of Paradise Lost: Here you are, little weakling! I've been waiting for you for a long time, and I'm a little bored... Let's not waste time, let's hurry in and kill everyone! Get ready, little weakling! Let's show those robots real fighting skills and send them all the way back to their corrupt era! Not bad, little weakling, you have been exercising recently! Robot, take my blow! Punch! Fighting with you... makes my heart surge! That move is awesome, little weakling! Don't let them escape, leave no one behind! Haha, fighting with you is more exciting than I imagined! The thought of being able to "seal love" with you and fight these robots to confirm our relationship... my heart is beating fast! Let the battle become more intense! Come on, let's go in! Awesome, little weakling! It's been a blast all the way. Now there's only one last step left to make our date today even more perfect - Yes! That's it! A powerful elite monster! Come on, little weakling! Show your fists and give the big robot in this corrupt era the coolest blow! Haha... so refreshing... This feels so right... Little weakling, what do you think? I’m having too much fun today... ha, wait! I got it, the most important step is missing!

English: I'm afraid this moment cannot last forever… We must return to the hustle and bustle of city life… But let us always remember this place. Our lovers cocoon where, for one brief evening, the world was ours... Outside Paradise Lost: Goodbye, my love! Expect to see me again soon… I'll swing by your place later for a major make-out sesh!

Chinese: I really want to stay with you for a while longer! But I have to go protect Sandrock. Let us remember this moment and this feeling. No one can take away the energy of this love... … Goodbye then, my dear! I'm looking forward to seeing you next time …… I will definitely have a more exciting date with you!

English: You fell from a cliff and survived? Did someone help you? Or did you simply claw your way back to safety, and crawl to my feet just to see me again. You truly do love me, don't you? Chinese: You fell off a cliff and came back alive? Could it be that someone more powerful than me saved you? Alas, I missed an opportunity to protect you.

English: Knight, Protector, Enforcer, Big Daddy Love Sponge… I go by many names. Chinese: Besides, Knight is just a title. Guardian, Big Brother, Heart-throb... these are my titles!

English: Alright… fine. You want the truth? You can't handle the truth! But… here it is anyway: Miguel totally brainwashed me! Yeah, that's it… He told me, uh, Duvos rules and stuff, and… I was in a bind! I have multiple obligations! Do you have any idea how expensive the holidays are when you're shopping for twelve separate lovers who all think they're my one and only? Plus with Sandrock failing… I had no choice, I needed the money from his scheme… He said if I protect him, he'd give me a portion of his dirty money. Now that I think about it… say, do you think he could be some kind of high level Duvos operative? Certainly seems like it. Not trying to do your job for you or anything, though…

Chinese: Okay, okay, let me tell you... [Player's Name], your pal Peng Hu didn't know anything before he met that bad guy Miguel! Just eat, sleep, and protect the town every day. Until one day he told me that he was working for Duvos, trying to win me over, and saying a lot of things that made sense... I was short of money at that time, so I fell into his trap. Anyway, I am also a part-time worker. What is the difference between working for Sandrock and working for Duvos? Besides, with Sandrock being the way it is, I was saving myself. He asked me to protect him. As long as I did it, I would get a share of the embezzlement money. So I got involved in all this. Could that guy Miguel be a senior member of Duvos? An agent? Maybe he really is! Of course, that's the job of your militia group [Civil Corps], so I won’t say more.

English:

Builder: "How could you do this to me?" Pen: "What can I say, sometimes country trumps love…" Builder: "Please stop…" Pen: "I'm sorry, gotta fulfill my KPI, you understand!" Builder: "I still love you." Pen: "I know." Builder: "You were ugly anyway!" Pen: "Ooph, that might have hurt a mere mortal, but I know you know deep down in your heart that it's not true!" "Hm… to finally face you as my true self… it's invigorating! Now quit playing hard to get, Skinny, and take your place at my side!"

Chinese:

Builder: "How could you do this to me?" Pen: "What else can I do? The Empire is more important than love." Builder: "Don't do this to me..." Pen: "Sorry, [Player's Name]. This is my job, and I have to earn enough performance [points]!" Builder: "I never stopped loving you." Pen: "I know." Builder: "I stopped loving you a long time ago anyway!" Pen: "Haha, that doesn't hurt me. ["That sentence has no deadly effect on me."] Don't deceive your heart, you must still love me deep inside!" "Today I can finally face you with my true identity, and I'm actually very happy. Who doesn't want to be honest with his lover, little weakling? Why don't you come to my side, eh?"

English: I heard from someone in the capital that they experimented on him to make him stronger. Chinese: I heard that someone in the capital specifically conducted experiments on him, that's why he is so strong.

English: Ha! Know one thing about me, Skinny: any declarations I made on behalf of us was true. I make no mistakes, neither in war nor in love. You want proof? Well, it's not like I go around giving everyone nicknames! No… you were special in that regard. Perhaps it was always our destiny to be together… But I'm afraid that thread of fate has been cut short. I have chosen my country over love. Such is the duty of a Duvos Knight. …That's what you wanted to hear, isn't it…?

Chinese: Haha, one good thing about me is that I put real feelings into every relationship. I don't like to give people random nicknames either! Perhaps, ever since the moment I called you little weakling [Skinny Arms], you were destined to be my one and only love. It's just that we're different, and I had to sacrifice our relationship for the greater good of my country. Are you satisfied with this answer?

English: "Goodbye, [Player's Name]. It was... fun. Chinese: Farewell, [Player's Name]. This time it's for real. You're free.

The Protector's description, called "Guardian of Love" in Chinese:

A very delicate bracelet that protects the wearer's wrist. Wearing it gives the wearer a feeling of being emotionally confined. Perhaps this feeling is similar to what Peng Hu often said, "Marriage is a boring bondage".

Pen's letter in Chinese:

Dear [name], I've had a little more time to think lately in this so-called Atara Maximum Prison, and I'm more than a little sorry that I couldn't bring you along to accompany me. Well, it's my fault. Anyway, you are still the most beloved lover I have ever been with, and one of the few that I continue to miss even after a breakup. So, I'm going to forgive you. Yeah - I forgive you.I don't think there's a chance we'll ever be together again. You're just doing what you're supposed to do in your position, so there's nothing to complain about. I should have tried my best to recruit you from the beginning, and it would have been the best way to keep you with me. Of course I don't blame you, you're indeed excellent. I also left you a final challenge. In some ruins, there are a few of my most valuable things, and if you can get them, they're yours. It should be easy to get there, using the tricks I've taught you. My dear little weakling, this is the last time I'll call you that, I believe in your abilities. Remember, don't slack off on your training. We won't meet again. (but 后会无期 can also mean "meeting at an unspecified/unclear date")

WELP, what more can I say :'D

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