#like “my oc is here and doing this thing because im the author and i wanna”

[yok00k]

coming down

pairing: non-idoloc! x idol!jk

genre: angst

“i always want you when i’m coming down”

sypnosis: although you sleep next to jungkook every single night, it feels like you’re million miles away from him.

wordcount: around 1,000

warning: in 1st pov, it’s a little sad (for me), open ended ending, one sided love, allusion of cheating, oc’s world revolves around jk (don’t be like her)(lowkey im her), toxic relationship, lack of communication

author’s note: this did not go as I initially planned help-_- i was gonna make light jealousy oc/jk drabble idk how I ended up with this. i hope yall sob w/ me or lmk ur thoughts

an absolute ideal.

his performance. the concept. the way he sang his new released songs flawlessly. how smooth his dancing movements were. how the stage composition and development were so sumptuous.

and most importantly, how romantic the live performance was, given the fact that there was an actress involved in the show.

calling Jungkook an amazing artist would be an understatement. He’s creative, unique, and original in his masterpieces. Everything he does, no matter what, is just mesmerizing and astounding. He’s indeed a true performer.

Jungkook dedicated several months to work on his solo album. The time and effort he had put to his work is just admirable. On most days, he stays up late, trying to come up with so many possible ideas and options he can add on his album.

and I was there by his side. I chose to be.

I was there, waiting for him to come home every single night, or usually midnight, in our noiseless living room, wrapped with a thick blanket and loneliness. He would arrive home, but as night by night goes, I was accompanied by nothing but solitude. it feels like it’s taking over me.

I was there, in bad days where Jungkook is focusing on the negatives and having doubts in himself. Days where his standards for himself weren’t being met. both of my shoulders were closely next to him if he needed something to lean into. Reminding him that it’s okay and he’s doing wonderful.

I was there, even in times when he didn't want or need me to be there. times where he just wanted to be by his own with no distraction. but here I am, continuously showing him my undying love and support for him.

I chose to stay there. on nights where he stopped saying “i love you” back before going to dreamland. I hugged him closer as I convinced myself to believe that he just didn’t feel like saying those three words at those moment because of all the stress he undergoes through day to day.

I gave all of myself, I’ve done my part as his other half. Just like how Jungkook produces his works, I poured all my love and time to him, leaving not a thing for myself. It sounds foolish, but that’s just how I love

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

we’re both lying on the massive bed, only inches apart from one another’s body yet it feels like he’s millions of miles away from me as I stare at his cold, broad back that’s facing me.

I’ve got to used to this upsetting scenario at this point but that doesn’t mean it hurt less.

The whole bedroom feels chilly. I’m freezing, solely due to the fact that his warm arms weren’t wrapped around me like they used to be. as i’m not hearing his snores, I know that he’s still awake

“Do you still love me?” I manage to ask out loud and clear, immediately regretting the words that came out of my mouth even though it’s simply an inquiry.

a question that’s been going around my head for quite some time now. a question that i’m afraid to know the answer to because his response might be the response my heart doesn’t wish to hear or else it will shatter into millions of pieces.

my hope for an answer rapidly decreased as seconds went by filled with silence. The absence of noise that surrounded me was deafening; abundantly mocked the emotions I was feeling at the moment, screaming at me that my feelings didn't matter.

It's alright.

I did nothing but wipe the single tear that uncontrollably rolled down my cheek.

it’s stupid. I should’ve just kept it to myself. maybe that would be less embarrassing. less problematic. less painful than I was feeling minutes ago.

I turned my back against his as I accepted my defeat. maybe I’m just tired. maybe drifting to sleep will make me feel okay although I know deep inside that I won’t take the pain away. this is not some type of feeling i’m unfamiliar with to begin with.

I shut my eyes, as I try to put myself to sleep. but in that process, i felt his body moving, turning around, and finally snakes his warm arms around me. a pair of arms, the same ones I longed for so many nights.

“____, why would you ask that?” he giggly asked, sounding like he just heard a silly question. as if i was just being clingy and wanted some piece of his attention.

‘because i don’t feel like you love me anymore’

the man waited for a response, waiting to see if I was just fooling around or that was really genuine. the noiselessness, just like all times, answers the question we both interrogate to each other.

the heavy feelings just got worse, if not heavier. even so when he talks more. “i won’t be laying next to you if i wasn’t.” as if that makes me feel better.

indeed, he’s physically here by my side yet distant. Jungkook is so far off that I’ve lost him. numbness was all I felt as I heard his words. I couldn’t be more content now that I have my answers.

his indirect answer to a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question is enough for me to know where we stand.

I can’t help but to turn my body to face him, just to stare at his doe eyes that I easily get lost in due to the fact that they hold thousands of stars, if not a whole world in them.

regretfully, my eyes should’ve just maintained contact with doe-like eyelids. but rather, they drop their focus on the side of his neck, detecting a foreign lipstick shade that he might have forgotten to wipe off. a shade that will be tattooed in my brain and will forever hate.

Inhale. Exhale. I chose to shrug it off, bringing my attention back to his worn out face.

“I love you” truthfully and whole-heartedly confessed to him once more just like I always do. although this was a little bit different because I don’t expect him to say it back anymore.

and with that in mind, this was also the last night that I will to express my love for him.

#jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fic #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkookxreader #jungkook angst #jungkook ff #jjk angst #bts angst #bts ff #jeon jk #jungkook #bts jk #angst #emocore

[bl00dlight]

A Song of Shadow & Flame

CANON Dark! Aemond Targaryen x OC Targaryen. | SERIES

All NSFW warnings apply in future chapters.

Author's note • After my recent rant, Ive decided to feed the girlies who want fics that align with canon Aemond. Sooooo Im coming home for my girls with an fire & blood timeline retelling & not just more boring ass Mary Sue × Aemond smut. So we are starting from the beginning. The vibe is, "I could make him significant worse".

Word Count ~ 1.4k

Index

i ● ii ● iii ● iv ● v ● vi ● vii ● viii ● ix ● x ● xi ● xii ● xiii ● xiv ● xv

ii ~ 'Age of Hero's'

124 AC

It was not until later that night the young princess saw her uncle again. It took little effort to convince the Kings guard that she was not here to continue to jeer at the prince, but rather to give a sincere apology. At least, that is what she had told herself. It had not occurred to her, why or how men oft bended to her will. In truth, Visenya had little thoughts on such things, for all she knew, she asked and received accordingly – and if she did not receive, she would promptly sway until her desires were met.

It was this very naivety, this innate trust that the world would simply open its loving arms for her whenever she pleased, that worried her mother and father so dearly. Both knowing the ways of men, the violence and sickness that dwelled in her heads, most especially about a Princess of Valyrian blood. Seen less so for her heart and more for her blood born proximity to the God’s themselves. To power of fire made flesh, and of course. The beauty which came with Valyrian blood.

Visenya entered Aemond’s room quietly, and when she came before him, came before his body splayed out upon his bed she swiftly averted her gaze. The princess cleared her throat, a small noise of a disturbance left his mouth as he jumped, swiftly propping himself upwards.

“What are you doing in here? You ought-” His voice laced with outraged as The Princess interrupted.

“Temper yourself. I’ve not come to goad you. I just, I came to apologise.” A small laugh left her, she put her hand up.

“I do not give a shit.” Aemond snapped.

Visenya tilted her head, scanning him, “Fine. But I shall do so anyway.”

“Why?” Asked Aemond, the air teaming with uncertainty as he watched his sly niece walk slowly, stalking through his room like a cat.

“Because it is right, it is what is owed, and I’ve no intention being in your debt.” Visenya sighed, her voice almost aloof, smug. Her eyes look in the space, the perfectly kept books and scrolls upon his desk. The princess reached the dark mahogany desk that was seemly gleamed in the firelight. It seemed the prince had little taste nor need for decor, he seemed to only own objects for utilitarian purposes, he was so… conservative, Visenya thought. In fact, the only unkept thing was an open book, her pale fingers grazed the pages. Clearly, he had taken it from her Grandsire’s personal Library. She looked at the top, small writing detailing the topic ‘Age of Heros: Symeon Star-Eyes’. She had never heard of such a thing, her thoughts interrupted as another pale hand snatched the book away.

The prince’s eyes met hers with a venomous glare as placed the small book back upon his desk, “I find it difficult to believe you care about what is right.”

Visenya scoffed in response as she paced to the other side of the desk, her fingers as cunning as she as they found his book once more, “True. Perhaps I don’t, however it hardly matters. For even if I am saying it to benefit myself, my meaning is sincere.”

Frustration and rage tore through Prince Aemond as he then turned and stepped forward, who was she to dare apologise? After all this time, all these years of enduring her fucking bastard brothers torment? No, no Aemond would not tolerate it, he was not one to embrace pity. “I’ve no reason to accept your pathetic apology and I have no use for the rag of pity you continue to throw at me!” He snapped.

Visenya found herself taken aback by the fire in his eyes, she felt her own frustration boil as she bit back with equal fervour, “Yes, well perhaps you ought to! Since it seems I am the only one who is willing to throw it to you, and actually, unlike what you may think. I have little interest in hating you.”

“Do not lie.” Aemond stepped forward, his voice low.

“It is no lie. I do not hate you, we most certainly do not get along. But, I have little reason to hate you.” She shrugged, Visenya relaxed once more.

Though Prince Aemond could not tolerate it any longer, he would not take another drop of her insolence… her teasing, her lies! He snapped again, “You… you and your brothers torment me for your own amusement.”

“As does Aegon.” The Princess sneered, once again he had gotten himself into a state, she thought.

“I do not give a shit about Aegon! He is a fool and already a drunkard, and… and, well he is also my brother.” The prince wanted to push her, slap that smarmy sneer from her face. He stumbled upon his words, feeling more flustered, more overcome with the memories of all of his sister’s bastard’s torment. Their stupid, arrogant faces.

Visenya, ever cool, raised her brow, “So?”

“So, it is different.” He bit back.

Visenya stepped forward, folding her arms as she analysed him, by the Gods was he bothered. Still, she retorted back, “I dare say Aegon torments you for his own amusement far more than I. In fact, I do not torment you at all. They are mere jests!”

“Mocking me for not claiming a dragon is not a simple jest!” He had had it, the prince suddenly found himself unable to control it anymore, his hands came out before him, connecting with his niece’s chest as he pushed her back.

Visenya stumbled only slightly, she looked down and then swiped a stray hair from her face. Silence fell between them before a moment, a piercing silence. The soft breaths of Aemond to be heard as he tried to temper himself. A slight guilt filled him, but not for what he had done to the Princess, rather what may happen to him if his father found out. Or worst of all… if her father found out. The silence dragged, before shattered with the soft cackles of Visenya. Her face beaming.

“Gods…” She laughed, tilting her head back. Perhaps he was right, perhaps she did tease him for her own amusement. Tis his fault really, Aemond ought to learn how not to be so easily pestered, he ought to enjoy her attention on him. Only the Gods knows how many other boys try and fail to garner her interest. Yet it was him, who truly captured Visenya. A cruel smile rose to her face.

“Just get out!” Aemond snapped again, feeling a slight measure of weakness under her gaze. He reached forward, grabbing her wrist harshly as he forced her to the door,  

As he did so, Visenya cackled, enjoying this far too much, she laughed as she spoke, “Very well, I apologize for my lapses, and I will not speak on your lack of a dragon again, Uncle.” The door swung open and Visenya nearly gasped as she felt the firm grip of the Kings Guard outside his chambers grip her shoulder.

“Come, princess. The hour grows late, the both of you ought be in your bedchambers for the night.” The King’s Guard voice rang firm as he began to escort Visenya away, her eyes lingered upon Aemond once more, as she giggled.

The cheeky cackling of his niece could be heard through the prince’s heavy doors, Aemond wore a bitter expression. He was utterly infuriated, utterly exhausted… and utterly ashamed in his own inability to not give in to her teasing. He scanned his room, the firelight casting a soft orange glow, the air was warm, and it’s smell a comforting indication of embers. Aemond sat upon his bed once more, eyes sharp and pained, a part of him wished to crawl into the arms of his mother but he did not send for her. No, he would face this alone, he would not behave as the weak little bellyacher they all thought him to be. He would be strong, infallible; he would be a man.

Upon this thought, Prince Aemond rose up from his bed, approaching his desk once more as he longed to find comfort in the tales of great knights and ruthless warriors; to read of Symeon Star Eyes. Yet, as the young prince’s eyes met the mahogany surface, he felt his gut coil with rage once more.

His book had been swiped.

○iii○

#hotd #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x oc #targaryen #got #rhaneyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #daenerys targaryen #aegon targaryen #alicent hightower #hotd aemond #the greens hotd #dark!aemond targaryen x reader

[astralnymphh]

I just got on and saw what’s been happening and bro…I’m glad people are talking about it. Mostly about the smut, inclusivity, Palestine, and the fetishization of trans people.

Reading smut is so underwhelming like it seems like that’s all what people write these days. Like I need ANGST! I need to CRY! I need SLOW BURN AND PLOT….

And to be honest, I personally feel like some writers purposely list the reader’s physical descriptions as being white… like damn you know multiple people are going to come across your shit. I would get annoyed asf when I see something like “she touched your soft pale flushed skin” BITCH- 💀 don’t piss me off 😒🦶🏽

I won’t speak too in depth about the fetishization of trans people in fanfics because I’m not trans and I don’t want to say anything inaccurate BUT I will say it’s so disturbing and off putting seeing shit like that and seeing how people are sexualizing trans people more than treating them like regular humans…I also came across that ‘femcel’ series and🧍🏽‍♀️erm… no.

I appreciate the account who made the post discussing how the word trans and the f word are completely different. I didn’t even know that word was derogatory and it shocked me... I hope that account takes it down and they educate themselves or something cause 🙁👎🏽

yes pook YES smut can be underwhelming and so overdone. we definitely need more angst/fluff.. or just PLOT in general. no, i'm not saying don't write it at all (incase anons twist my words, cause.. they're good at that.) i'm just saying that it would be nice to see some fully fleshed out pieces with emotion and storytelling. i have something in the works though, that encompasses all genres (fluff/smut/angst) so, there's that!

people will so clearly write the whole petite pale white girl bs like "ur delicate small hand" or the fuckass "doey eyed and blushing cherub red" like NEVER portray reader so specifically unless you're going to specify it in the cw!!!! do whatever for ellie's white ass but for the love of gods and goddess BE AWARE OF READER AS A SPOT TO FILL, NOT AN OC!!!! idk how else to describe what i just said. but. it is said. so it. yeah. that whole delicate small petite thing kinda trickles into writing childlike readers too but. thats a whole nother discussion. no clue if i ever used that phrasing in the past tho i have no bold memories of my writings in detail.

i think people will listen to anybody but trans people who are actively calling it fetishization, like. all the mfs arguing with them say "trans and f💀ta aren't the same!" yeah. they aren't. cause one is like, a genuine, flesh and bone person.. with a whole story.. and feelings.. and experiences.. and one is.. fetishization. how many times do trans people have to repeat that? bet most of the people trying to argue against it aren't even trans.

the whole thing about authors "flooding" the tlou tag with palestine posts is also dumb as fuck. is scrolling a bit too taxing on your poor smut-guzzling thumbs?? ur scrolling over big booty fics, i think you can scroll a little further past those posts if you're really that much of a basement dwelling fuck that's sitting comfortably in their homes while a genocide is happening. out here sobbing cause people are spreading awareness. eat my bum bum booty. ++ also add-on cause we're holding writers accountable for ignoring a strike (different than not knowing at first) but there's also the artists!! they're there too.

anons r gonna come into my inbox abt all this but i'm not even gonna answer like, don't waste your time. im not reading all that. especially coming from an ANON 💀

me when

#⤹𓍢ִ໋aestras asks #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie tlou #lesbian #sapphic #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fanfiction #tlou #fanfiction

[littleroaes]

( 🌷 ) ❀˖° — ‘ ACQUAINTANCES ‘ — a list of my MOOTS ( writers and non ) who I have interacted with and fic RECS.

( 🌷 ) ❀˖° — AUTHORS NOTE : a list of my acquaintances here on tumblr! as I’m very timid, I don’t have too many interactions with some users. but the net of people here is very sweet and sincere. please please give them love!

I will update it as I get to know new people, read past works/ new works!

• LAST UPDATE : oh my god! it’s done! I think I have gathered all? don’t feel afraid to comment or something else if I missed you! It’s pretty rushed at parts, but I’ll improve on it, for the time being, I’m released it’s finally up!

➵ @blue-rainydays 💙

➵ @cloverdaisies m.list personal rec ➤ HEY CHAT! ∩^ω^∩ ↳ no one loves this fic like I love this fic! reread it a lot because it genuinely makes me so happy! i wrote it in my reblog but im so sad this yn and hj arent together lol. i would be the biggest minecraft fan if they were real →

➵ @cupidjyu m.list personal rec ➤ he’s hopeless! ↳ the fluffiest fluff that has ever fluffed! kicked my feet all the way through! juyeon's character is so entertaning to read! → other: detention for romance

➵ @everynewiee m.list ( @adorablehyunjae ) personal rec ➤ Honey - Dew Cat Cafe ↳ so cute! juyeon wears an apron and owns a cat(do I need to say more?) their pet bring them together!au !!! →

@floatingpluto

➵ @from-izzy m.list personal rec ➤ this summer… ↳ hyunjae is so patient! real love im telling you! that giddy feeling of when you feel special! It's what it gives! I wish to have someone like this hyunjae →

➵ @haet-sal m.list personal rec ➤ Cinderella Boy ↳ really creative fic! i loved the concept, had me in my seat the entire time! youre gonna feel so bad for juyeon though →

➵ @heemingyu m.list personal rec ➤ Serenade ↳ so feel good! I absolutely adore eric's and sunwoo's dynamic in this one! eric is down so bad, and i love it! → other: Rainy Days

➵ @hyungseos-cafe m.list personal rec ➤ the thought of you ↳ love this series! very easy to read since all of them are pretty short, but each one is so distinct and cute! I especially like changmins and erics! →

➵ @juyeonszn m.list (@fawnieszn/ @jungwonszn @yeonjunszn @eunseokszn )

personal rec ➤ BLAH BLAH ↳ I feel like there’s a lot of coincidences between me and this fic lol. but I do truly love it. jacob is 🫠🫠, basically all fawns fics make me feel 🫠🫠 lol →

➵ @kimsohn m.list personal rec ➤ polaroid & hearts on your sleeve ↳ polaroid is such a cute one! makes me want a jacob for myself even more! hearts on your sleeve is heart-aching, but I find it so creative! →

➵ @kpop17

➵ @leaz-kpop-life

➵ @onceuponabloom tag system! personal rec ➤ taste your lipgloss ↳ I’m so bad at describing things! but kicking my legs! very typical flirty, oops, heart fluttering vibe but I love it! →

➵ @o-onikix m.list personal rec ➤ Enchanted ↳ was some time since I read it, but I remember enjoying it! First time I wish to end a relationship with hyunjae →

@seolboba m.list personal rec ➤ 8:36 AM ↳ not tbz, but very cute! I really like rin (oc)! though I’m a kevrin stan, I really like Felix and her in this one. chans immediate leadership/ family ship is amazing! →

➵ @sungbeam m.list personal rec ➤ ain’t no romeo ↳ listend to it in speechify! a fic with so much to explore! there's so many good dynamics between characters and different elements! from humor, cutesy, fluttering and mysterious! →

➵ @winterchimez m.list ( @midnightfantasiez ) personal rec ➤ Make or Brake ↳ love changmin childhood friends to lovers! he fits it so well for some reason. really feel good fic! → other: criminal,

➵ @zzoguri m.list personal rec ➤ of linked arms and bruised hearts (you are the reason i keep on going) ↳ a long one, but the ending is so satisfying. every moment feels well-earned! again, changmin fits f2l so bad! I love their friend group, and jacob lowkey broke me lol →

#mutuals #moots #fic recs

[paintedhyenadogs]

Just because Im lowkey pissed that people don't understand the archive warnings on AO3 and get mad at the author because of their own lack of understanding:-

Here are what the archive warning tags mean and what each apply to:

No Archive Warnings Apply

This means the fic doesn't have any of the content that fit into the other warnings

Still tread with caution, especially if there are no other tags, as in 0. No relationship tags, no character tags, nothing, nada. It means the author might be really new or just was too lazy to use any tags or warnings. Know the risk or play it safe and don't read.

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

This means the fic might have none, some or all of the listed warnings. This is the warning. You might end up reading triggering material, or reading a fluffy sweet fic. It's a toss up, so if you aren't willing to take the risk, DO NOT READ.

If you've filtered out any of the other archive warnings and see this one, make sure you are ready to encounter something that might be triggering, that you've filtered or just avoid it. Even if the other tags don't indicate it, be wary and stay cautious, remember that this is still a warning.

Graphic Depictions of Violence

The content of the fic features graphic violence, as is stated. But if the creator chose not to tag what happens specifically that is violent, be ready for anything ranging from a bloody fist fight, to cannibalism to eroguro to violent torture.

Rape/Non Con

The fic will contain rape/noncon, which I've also seen include dubious consent/dubcon. It can be a major plot point in the story of the fic, or be smut. Read the additional tags to get a gauge of if it is one or the other. If there are no other tags, and you only want to read a story driven fic that may have rape/noncon, play it safe and don't read.

Underage

The fic has pedophillia and just like the rape/noncon warning, can be either a plot point or part of smut. Just like the above, if you do not want to read smut, play it safe and do not read if it has 0 additional tags. Honestly just filter it out all together, it's a good idea.

Some people also might use this tag when the fic involves sex between two underage characters (usually when the show is set in a high school), please keep this in mind if you aren't filtering the underage warning altogether. Also serves as a, "Always read additional tags!" note.

(Just in case someone gets on my ass and says "omg why would you say it also has smut under it ewww, are you a pedo?!" because I know someone will: I am simply saying that, the reality is, it's on the site. I don't wanna see that either, but it's there and I can't do a thing about it, just please be aware that you could be stumbling into a gross fic if you are not reading the tags properly.)

Major Character Death

A major character in the fic dies. This could be an OC, the reader, or a canon character.

If anyone feels I should revise and/or add these explanations, please tell me.

Additional words for newbies for ao3

AO3 is an archive site first, fanfiction hub second. It isn't for readers, it's for authors to archive their work and be able to label their work accordingly (or just not label it).

As a reader you should be respectful towards the authors and their work. You have no right to demand for a new chapter of a work you may like, you have no right to insult the author because of your own lack of knowledge or ignorance. Be grateful you're even getting any work from these people. Again, these people. These authors are real people like you and me, writing you fanfiction to read at no additional cost.

If you plan on posting on AO3, you should tag it, just so people can filter it, it's nice to be nice. I don't write on AO3 so I don't know what else to say on this part.

#archive of my own #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 tags #fanfic writer #fanfic #fanfiction #fandom #fandom writing #ao3 writer #writing #mha #x reader #aot #attack on titan #my hero academia #hellsing #the witcher #anime #dungeon meshi #jojo's bizarre adventure #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #demon slayer

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

I've been seeing the whole Cyprus thing reaction and I'm curious about something, all your oc have been comfort characters, even if not for you, with comfort in mind I imagine, and while Yves is the epitomy of perfect comfort Cyprus is an interesting different angle, while harsh, the idea about breaking out of the day to day routine and, as you said, a tale bout beating addictions, the last takes seemed harsh

you said he was an attention grab project for you, and clearly you succeeded but now want to just throw him out, putting some traits that make someone unlikable pretty easy and then doubling down so there's no doubt, and the reactions I've seen of 'i can't believe I liked him' 'i drew him' and so on, I get it, while he wasn't what I imagined from the first chapter, he had some somewhat redeemable traits, but now it feels like someone pulled the rug

As in even if you personally didn't liked him anymore, or ever, I thought you would let him fade for a while, like your other 1st gen oc, for lack of interest about writing for them, all of this to ask why is that? I'm not criticizing, I love all your works, been here for a long while and still hooked as the first day

I mean is your character, you can say he is whatever and since he is yours well then that's canon, as I said I'm just surprised of how vilified he's been made recently

ykno how this blog is basically copium for me and i use it as like a comforting teddy bear. But another lesser known use for this website is something to help me process and make sense of the shittiness of the world

So actually all my ocs has at least some component that's strongly inspired by people in my life, like Yves- exaggerated traits that i liked in my parents and friends, Blanche- exaggerated traits that i liked in my grandma etc etc so these are the comfort side

the thing is Cyprus is always meant to be this way from the beginning 😭😭😭the source material being all the things i hated about my dad, the machoness, coerciveness, bigotry, tough love upbringing on his kids and all that jazz, the stuff that made me go ouch for many years- so cyprus isn't even a fictional character anymore like my 1st gen ocs, its literally a retelling of what i disliked the most about my father and trying to make it palatable enough to innoculate myself from the real thing- but Cyprus is just gross to me

The true nasty side of him wasn't revealed early on bcasye,ykno,,,, i love and want clout 👉👈,,,, there were a couple of asks about his view on kids, i already had that piece written out but i waited to post it only when its confirmed he's the most popular one. I was going to scare away a lot of people if I just go high octane piece of shit on him

I truly loved my 1st gen ocs, they bring me a hella ton of comfort but like it isn't as effective as Yves, I will be churning out more and more ocs just to chase that high or relief from da horrors of da world. So i just let them fade a way and go into a comatose state (me not writing about them) because i still do wanna revisit them one day and i do not want them to go out in pain and hated

Gonna be honest with you chief idk wtf is Cyprus to me now, like he is not giving me comfort in a traditional sense like Yves or Blanche, or Yan big brother, but he STILL is giving me a sense of like relief and catharsis by letting me write him into this asshole im having to face irl, like i converted an attention grab to another one of my copium- when Cyprus was in his like golden problem child phase where everyone likes him except the author, he wasn't copium, dude

only after i vilified him (and received a bunch of horrified responses and a couple of hate asks as a result) did he do something to make me feel good, like Yves level good but in the opposite direction, like the Yin to Yves's Yang of comfort

Like i definitely will still write about Cyprus, he's just the black sheep of the comfort family and even tho i do joke a lot about this being an attempt to remove as much of my reader's favour for him so i can just eradicate him without a lot of uproar, its never really the case. Cyprus is transformed to another outlet for me to express my thoughts and feelings about stuff i fuckin hate irl but will have to face regularly [i will slow down on the cyprus posting tho cause i am going back to Yves as like a knee jerk reflex]

Cyprus was meant to be hated, but with how the world works, there will be people who still love him and take him in as their wet rat. So i wouldn't say that he's my most unpopular oc after i fleshed out the shit side of him, just the most divisive one- he's like fuckin vegemite, you either hate him with a burning passion or love him and want to slob on his knob

anyways here is your hot cup of Yappuchino served with a side of Yappanese sponge cake. Enjoyszss and thanks for the askkkk

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere concept #male yandere oc x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #tw yandere #oc cyprus

[deeeshka-14]

useful(useless) popee the performer OC guide/tips!!!!

hello everyone!!! my name is dishka, and im an PTP fan since 2019! recently, i did an OC and thinked alot, looking at ptp characters to make it more canon-like. soooo i wanna share what i noticed in characters designs that may be useful for making OC's! lets start

APPEARANCE: based on colors, mostly.

okay, let's take a look at PTP characters:

so, when you first looking at those characters, you can mainly notice the colors, maybe. its like 3-4 main colors(not taking shades of one color as different. also im not sure if white counts!). there is ALWAYS some print on outfit(stripes on popee's jumpsuit, stars on kedamono's shorts) or its just double-colored(papi's jumpsuit). i guess i should say there's something like a main theme in character. even if im not sure about "animal" theme(because kedamono is just a straight up wolf and popee is still a human just in animal outfit), theres space theme in papi and marifa(who wasnt in the show but i still count her!!)

i also may say that her colors is limited too, so this works with all characters, yeah. ALSO i noticed that everyone has something on their head(mask/hat), so i guess that's important too, even if maybe not necessary. to quickly show how I did it, i'll just leave my oc here:

so, basically, theres limited colors, a theme, i also added this neck thingy to match circus better... and i did it kinda close to ptp author's artstyle bc i wanted to.

PERSONALITY/STORY: short af

so umm theres not alot to say about how to be with a personality but there's always like maybe 2-3 traits in character, like they are very simple, nothing too complicated. ofc you can do it as you want, but if you wanna make your oc as close to canon as possible i recommend not overdoing their personality & story. just think of like... how are they acting near canon characters maybe?? what would they do in different situations?? where they came from, why are they in the circus?? and something basic like that.

sooo thats all i can say!!! sorry if this guide was useless, i just wanted to do this bc i uhh wanna share things i noticed??? and all goodbye and wish you luck with ocs

#popee the performer #popee the clown #ptp #ptp oc #oc tips #fandom oc #useless information #oc help

[space-writes]

i finished another aggressively mediocre m/m book yesterday and like. i assume authors love their characters as much as i do but like. as someone who puts arguably Too Much Effort into every damn oneshot i write - i know i'm inventing things probably, but as an author, do you care about your craft? like. do you? at all?? did you do a second pass?

especially when the acknowledgements or whatever list numerous betas and editors, and then there's still spelling errors (i am not forgiving the author who used ludacris in place of ludicrous. im just not)

i know i know selfpub etc is hard work and different tastes and i have high standards, probably but just. im sitting here on the third redraft of a book because i want to make it better even though its oc fanfiction for my beloved tiny audience and will never make me a single penny and I am putting in the work when it feels like what i'm reading just hasn't?

im just venting, im not actually mad, more baffled. im aware a chunk of the problem is 'write fast to feed the insatiable amazon machine and make a career of this' but still.

#space has thoughts

[driderwife]

Ok so here’s extremely barebones info about my Tav cuz ppl are asking and I wanna ramble about dumb fan character stuff cuz it’s fun lol and I actually love this OC now, im probably gonna use him for regular DnD shit when im done with BG3. Sorry for being cringe but like. I’m free and im gonna play this game how I want.

His name is Valence and he’s a half drow storm sorcerer (He should have a drow name but I like hate trying to make them work im not crazy about drow names). I’ve only figured out like, the very basics of his backstory but he was raised in the underdark instead of being banished or killed for his high elf blood, because there’s magic inherent in his bloodline on his drow fathers side so he was deemed useful. I don’t know his early life yet but obviously he was Bullied and Oppressed because duh he’s a little male drow half elf freak.

What I have written so far is that later in his life as an adult he studied and worked under an elderly Matriarch who like whipped and paddled and spanked him. So he’s particularly scared of old women and just submits to women in general. for a lot of his in game choices if a woman is showing authority toward him I just like have him do whatever she says LOL. Hes like I sat my Gray ass down and LISTENED.

As for the romance stuff I have a soap opera going in my head where Valence is like completely enamored with Astarion bc Astarion took his virginity at the ripe age of Old Man & Valence is like easily manipulated by anyone talking him up bc his name is Mud in drow society and usually nobody likes him. also he’s a revenge driven half drow so he lets Astarion do the ascension plot & when that goes sour in their relationship shit Valence is like, do whatever you want to me be evil. Women beated me for fun im a wet napkin for you.

Also you shouldn’t feel bad for valence at all im playing him kinda evil and vindictive and letting him making nasty in game choices. Let the old traumatized twinks be toxic they need to fight it out.

But im also gonna romance Halsin as a poly thing i just haven’t thoroughly plotted that in my head bc i didn’t get very far in his arc yet it takes a WHILE.

Anyways im just having fun with making a truly pathetic dude. Also I love drow men theyre really the Kens of DND universe.

Anyways pls don’t be shy if u wanna tell me about your guys too I think it’s so fun.

#bg3 #bg3 tav #my art #drow #dnd #oc #valence #bg3 spoilers //

[nightingale-ghost-writer]

Maybe [Soap x Fem!OC]

Summary: Soap finds a kindred spirit during a trying time

Author’s Notes: This is a little of a long intro, feel free to skip it! I’ve been reading fanfiction for years, and I’ve started dozens of fics. This is the first one I’ve ever finished. (11.8K words!!!) It started off with me wanting Soap to get some medical care for his unaddressed injuries after Alone, and just exploded from there. I wanted to really highlight the bond he and Ghost formed, and then I wanted to give him love (because he deserves it!). I know it’s a bit sparse on the Price and Gaz side of things, but I feel like their bonds with Soap are sort of assumed going into this game. This game, to me, is about Soap learning that sometimes the right thing to do isn’t always so obvious, and Ghost learning to work with a team, thanks to Soap. I loved this campaign dearly, so I have a lot of dialogue carried over from scenes I really wanted to set. That being said, I changed some stuff to better incorporate my OC, Daniela. Writing reader-insert fics is a skill I just do not possess. If you’re reading, I hope you enjoy it!

And to my dear @uselsshuman, who is the furthest thing from useless, thank you so much for your encouragement to write this. Your writing and support really inspired me to get this done. This one’s for you. ❤

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or events from Modern Warfare

Warnings: language, canon-typical violence, suggestive content

Soap tucked himself behind a door, braced his back against the wall, and did his level best to breathe as silently as possible. He could hear the Shadows’ footsteps and radio chatter nearby.

He pulled back the hammer on the desert eagle he’d found in the café safe and held his breath. He didn’t want to get into a gunfight, not here. Not with them. He had decent cover, but his arm throbbed where a bullet was lodged, his ribs stung where his plates had kept him from another, his whole body ached from his jumps and falls in the city, and he was almost certain he’d damaged something in his left hip the day before. 

That particular injury came from running along cliff faces to escape the cartel, which was bad enough. Adding the Shadows to that? That was terrible.

As the footsteps faded, Soap let out a slow, low breath and slumped to the ground. He let his eyes drift shut, just for a moment, taking stock of his ability to get across the plaza to the church. To Ghost. As if he knew that he was being thought about, Ghost’s voice crackled through the comms.

“Soap?“ he asked softly.

“Ghost,” whispered Soap.

“You alright?”

Soap opened his eyes and took a deep breath, peeked around the door, and answered “Think I found a way through, LT.”

“Shadows are everywhere. I’ll hold ‘em off until we RV in front of the church and secure a vehicle for exfil.”

“Roger that.” Soap crept up through the shop, taking care to stay low and move quietly.

“Give ‘em hell, Johnny. We’re almost there,” rumbled Ghost. After a moment’s pause, he added “Listen, I picked up an ally. Should help us get out of here a little easier. You’ve just got to us and we’ll get to a vehicle.”

Soap’s eyes narrowed. Ally? In Mexico? Only two people came to mind, and they were both “detained”.

“Is it Price?” he asked after a moment’s thought.

“No, one of Alejandro's Vaqueros. Wasn’t on base when Graves moved in. Showed up, realized something was wrong. We found each other killing Shadows, decided to team up.”

Soap chanced raising his head to peer out of the shop window. Seeing no Shadows, he moved for the door. “And you trust ‘im?”

“Enough, at least for now.”

“Copy that, LT. I’m on my way.”

He wiggled the door handle, but of course, nothing could be so easy. It was locked. So he pulled out the last of his makeshift pry tools, braced it in the door jamb, and pulled.

Lots of things happened all at once, then.

The door swung open. Soap yelled “Fuck!” while the Shadow said “what the- GET DOWN!”, and hit Soap with the butt of his rifle. The Shadow called his position, Soap heard “kill him!”, and then the Shadow dropped to the ground. Soap scrambled back, pressing the heel of his hand into his eye and groaning. His vision swam and his ears rang and he couldn’t get his bearings. Two more Shadows, running for the building, dropped to the sharp report of silenced sniper fire.

“Holy hell. Ghost, was that you?” Soap asked.

“Who else?” snapped Ghost’s rough voice. “Now go!”

He scrambled to his feet. And ran.

He ran as fast as his bruised body would let him, ducking behind cars and spraying with an SMG he’d picked up. He heard gunfire coming from ahead of him and cursed, grabbing for his radio.

“Ghost, how copy?”

“Johnny, got company in the church and they are not here for forgiveness. Get to the steps, we’ll be there!”

In the last few meters, Soap saw Ghost come careening out of the church doors, followed closely by a much smaller figure dressed all in black. They both turned to shoot at their followers as Soap and Ghost called out to each other. Ghost vaulted over the wrought iron fence, followed by their ally, and the three ran back the way Soap had come.

“We need a vehicle. On me!” Ghost barked. “Stay sharp. They know we’re here and they know it’s us. They’ll send more.”

Minutes that felt like hours later, after a brief firefight, the three piled into a pickup, panting and on high alert. 

“Alright, Johnny! You made it.”

“We made it, LT.” 

After ramming two Shadows with their stolen pickup, and nearly losing Ghost to another, they peeled off down an alley. Soap sagged against the seat, closing his eyes again. His heart and head were pounding.

“How’s that arm, Johnny?” asked Ghost.

Soap raised his head. “I’ll live,” he answered. He shivered violently, once, and Ghost cast a concerned glance in his direction.

“You sure it’s not infected?”

“Of course I’m not sure,” snapped Soap. Softening his voice, he added “But I think it’s just the cold. Between the tunnels and the rain, LT? Feels like I’m back home.”

Ghost nodded slowly. For a long moment, the two just basked in each others’ presence, grateful to have made it back together. Then, Ghost said “Daniela, would you take a look at the Sergeant’s arm? Can’t have him dying on us.”

Soap’s head snapped around to lock eyes with the ally he’d forgotten. Later, he’d remember this moment as an indication of his quickly deteriorating state. In the moment, though, he couldn’t wrap his head around anything but the woman in front of him.

Sometime between their getting into the truck and down the street, the black balaclava and hood had come off. The woman staring back at him had light olive skin and a mass of shiny black curls plastered to her head by rain. A thin, jagged, silvery scar ran from her cheekbone to her jaw, and her full lips were pursed in a barely-there smile. Soap thought he saw scarred flesh at the collar of her jacket. But he couldn’t tear his eyes away from hers. They were the bluest blue he’d ever seen- dark like the ocean, clear like the sky on a cloudless night, and as sharp as glass. Familiar, somehow.

He hadn’t necessarily had expectations of how this ally would look, but this was as far from expectation as possible. He had pictured a man, but even the fact that she was a woman wasn’t most shocking of all. It was her beauty.

He flinched when her hand landed lightly on his right shoulder, pulling gently.

“No, we can’t,” she said. Her voice was soft, musical, lightly accented. The lilt of just those three words had Soap’s head spinning for, at least he thought, completely different reasons than it had been spinning earlier. He adjusted his body so that rather than leaning with his left arm over the seat, his right arm hung over. The woman looked straight to the wound, gently prodding the flesh around the bullet wound, and Soap bit his tongue to keep from hissing in pain.

“Does that hurt?” she asked.

Soap tried to be nonchalant. He shrugged and said “Not so much.”

Ghost snorted. Soap didn’t blame him. The words sounded strained even to his own ears. And based on the older man’s jokes about not watching the cartel’s videos of his death “more than once”, this seemed like just the kind of thing he might find amusing. The thought made Soap smirk. The woman rolled her eyes, setting them on his again.

“What’s your name, hen?”

“I am Daniela. You are Soap, yes?” Soap nodded. Daniela nodded as well, focusing back on his arm. “Your Ghost, he told you that I am with Los Vaqueros?”

Soap and Ghost exchanged a look at “your Ghost”. Now Soap really was smirking, and he imagined that Ghost was grimacing under his mask.

“Aye, that he did,” he replied. He watched as Daniela unzipped her tactical vest and tore a strip of fabric from the bottom of her shirt. She began winding it around his bicep, grimacing slightly at the wheeze of pain he couldn’t hold back.

“Well we have a safehouse. We’ll get there, stock up, get you patched up a little better, and come up with a plan.” After carefully tying a knot in the makeshift bandage, she raised her eyes to Soap’s again. “It’s the best I can do right now.”

“I appreciate it,” he replied. He held her gaze for a moment before turning to face Ghost. “Alright, Ghost?”

Ghost glanced at him again. Even behind the mask, Soap could see his expression soften. “Alright, Johnny. You did well back there.” Soap grinned, and could tell by the crinkling around his eyes that Ghost was grinning, too.

“All thanks to you, LT.”

The rest of the ride was filled with soft chatter about Alejandro, Los Vaqueros, Graves, and the safehouse… and Soap trying, and failing, not to feel Daniela’s burning stare on the back of his neck.

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

Soap thought he was done for when Ghost shouted for him not to move. His feet had just touched the safehouse floor and Ghost was perched in the window. Before Soap even had time to react, a throwing knife flew past his head, embedding itself in the column just a meter away. Then he recognized Rodolfo’s voice. 

“Quién está ahí?”

“Rodolfo!”

Rodolfo rounded the corner. “Soap, Ghost! You’re alive!” Soap could see the moment Daniela mounted the window. Rodolfo’s face crumbled, his whole body seeming to sag with relief. “Daniela!”

“Rodolfo!” She leapt from the windowsill, surging forward to wrap her arms around Rodolfo’s waist. His own arms came around her shoulders and the two rocked back and forth, holding each other, speaking in rapid-fire Spanish that Soap had no hope of understanding. Rodolfo kissed the side of Daniela’s head, holding her to him tightly. Soap looked away. His eyes met Ghost’s and the two shared a slight shrug.

While Rodolfo and Daniela chattered away, Ghost stepped toward Soap.

“Daniela should be able to fix up that arm,” he said. “She’s not a formally trained medic, but she has lots of field training and experience. She told me she’s been patching up Los Vaqueros for years.”

“Aye. How’d you say you found her? Fighting Shadows?”

Ghost looked her way, nodding. “Just a few minutes before I got you on comms, I heard a scuffle. Thought it might be you, so I went in to assist. Lo and behold, I find that one slicing up a Shadow. ‘Nother pair showed up, though, and one got her in a choke-hold. Would’ve carried her off to who knows where if I hadn’t shown up.”

Soap nodded slowly. He didn’t need any more explanation. He knew the implications of what Ghost was saying and it made his blood boil.

Ghost shrugged. “She trusted me enough since I’d just saved her life, and I trusted her enough since she was fighting them and didn’t raise her gun at me. Plus, I think she’s as dedicated to the cause as Alejandro and Rodolfo.”

“Why’s that?” asked Soap. But before Ghost could answer, Rodolfo cut in.

“Where were you guys?”

“On the run,” answered Ghost.

“I was on the run,” corrected Soap. “Ghost waited for me.”

Rodolfo nodded. “Of course, no?”

Dread sank in Soap’s stomach. “No-” he began. But Ghost cut him off.

“Yes,” he said firmly, locking eyes with Soap again. “We’re a team. All of us.”

That stunned Soap into silence. He’d known they’d bonded trying to escape Las Almas with their lives, but for all of his teasing about Ghost taking a shine to him, he hadn’t actually believed that Ghost would say the same thing.

He was touched.

Maybe even more touched by the fact that the legendary lone-wolf Ghost considered him part of his team. It was likely the highest compliment he would ever get from him.

So while Rodolfo and Ghost started in on their plan to get into the prison, Soap settled down against the safehouse wall with an MRE from Alejandro’s supplies. The adrenaline shot he’d managed to get his hands on in Las Almas was waning, and he could feel every sore muscle, the bullet in his arm, and his likely sprained hip sharply. He tried to tune in to the conversation, but his attention was immediately lost when Daniela approached him with a med kit.

She grinned a bit wryly at him. “Mind if I take a better look at that arm?” Soap nodded and braced himself to stand, but Daniela jumped forward, holding out a hand. “No, don’t get up,” she said. Soap settled back to the ground as she crouched by him, reaching for her makeshift bandage from earlier.

Soap studied her as she worked. Her hair had dried and now sat at least a few centimeters higher on her head, tight ringlets falling to her shoulders. Her eyebrows furrowed just a bit as she carefully removed the bloodied fabric. Her movements were calculated, washing the wound and looking at it closely.

“How did you join Los Vaqueros?” Soap asked. For a moment, Daniela didn’t acknowledge him. Then she raised her gaze to his.

Instead of answering his question, she said “I need to get the bullet out. It’s going to hurt. Think you can handle it?”

Soap nodded once, sharply. Her gaze softened. “I don’t have any painkillers. This isn’t going to be some… little pain. It’s going to hurt a lot.”

Soap cocked a wry grin back at her. “Just so long as my screaming doesn’t bother you,” he teased. A wicked spark lit in her eyes at that.

“It won’t bother me. Maybe I’d like to hear you scream.”

Soap’s jaw dropped. It was exactly the type of thing he’d say, but having it said to him was dumbfounding. Who was this woman?

Her smile only grew as she watched him try to compose himself. He was grateful when her gaze dropped back to the task at hand, sterilizing a pair of forceps. He was sure his face was flaming red.

“Los Vaqueros saved my life when I was sixteen,” she said softly. “My village leader refused the cartel’s demands, so El Sin Nombre set to burning the village down. I was one of three survivors.” That explained Ghost’s certainty of her dedication.

She moved to his right side, between his leg and outstretched arm, and gripped his bicep below the bullet wound.

“My whole family died that day.”

She set the forceps at the wound’s entry. Soap took a deep breath.

“I have burns all over my body from our house burning down.” That explained the scarring at her neck.

Soap lurched forward, gasping, when she dug the forceps in. The pain was so blinding that he nearly missed Daniela cursing softly in Spanish before sitting on his right leg, leaning her body against his to keep him from moving. Nearly missed. But didn’t. 

“Lo ciento,” she whispered, sparing him a concerned glance. He grit his teeth and leaned his head back against the wall, chest heaving as he took deep breaths through his nose. 

“I’m sorry,” he gritted out. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you.”

Daniela shrugged. “Alejandro pulled me out of that fire,” she continued. Her tone was light, but seemed forced. Soap wasn’t sure whether it was her attempt to calm him or to pretend her story didn’t bother her.

He felt the moment that the forceps grasped the bullet. Took a deep breath. Steeled himself. Nothing prepared him for the feeling. He’d been shot before, multiple times. Bullet removal wasn’t a walk in the park, but he hadn’t realized just how much the painkillers mattered.

Soap was not proud of the whimper he let out when Daniela yanked the bullet out in one clean motion. She dropped the forceps onto a medical tray and lightly patted his cheek before inspecting the wound closely, muttering about infection and pointedly not meeting his gaze. She poured antiseptic over the wound and reached for a bottle of pills. 

“Here, take these. Antibiotics,” she said. After watching Soap swallow the pills, she picked a needle and thread up out of the med kit and continued. “Rodolfo threw a wet blanket over me. They put ointment on my burns and fed me. They offered me a home. They taught me to fight. They’ve been my family ever since.” 

Soap felt a pang of kinship at her words. He flinched slightly when the needle pierced his skin, but the pain died to a dull burn as Daniela kept stitching.

“Now that, I do understand,” he said. 

“You have no family?”

“No. Just the 141.”

After a few more strokes, she tied off the thread and laid a hand on his chest.

“They are my brothers. We must get Alejandro back.”

Soap reached up to cover her hand, belatedly hoping she wouldn’t be able to feel his heart pounding when she met his gaze. “We will, hermana.”

The smile she gave him was small, but her eyes were warm. It lasted for a brief moment before she arched an eyebrow. 

“Hermana?” She leaned forward until her mouth brushed Soap’s ear and he was sure that she could feel his heartbeat stutter. “I certainly hope not.”

With that, she picked up her medical kit and sauntered away, leaving Soap to stare after her in shock.

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

Getting into the prison compound was easy enough. 

“Trash bin on your right, time to take out the trash.”

“Shut up, Soap, fucking hell.”

A giggle from Daniela.

“Shoot him.”

“No, got something else in mind.”

“Fucking beautiful, sir!”

Impressed mumbling from Rodolfo.

“Cut and paste him, Ghost.”

Soap and Ghost’s banter amused Daniela to no end, even though Soap was sure he’d never been so anxious in his life. Having Ghost’s life almost solely in his hands was a responsibility he never wanted to feel again. But working with Rodolfo again helped to ease his mind.

Nearly being killed by Alejandro was less than ideal, but made worth it to watch him reunite with Rodolfo and Daniela.

“Alejandro! Al- it’s me, hermano!”

“Coronel, relájese somos nosotros!”

“Soap, Rudy, Ghost! Daniela!”

“Didn’t think we’d leave you, did ya?”

“What took you so long, pendejos?”

Getting out wasn’t quite as easy. 

“Exfil vehicles are set. Ghost planted charges to help us get out.”

“With Johnny’s help.”

“Eh, I can’t call Soap ‘Johnny’.”

“Don’t. Only Ghost can pull that off.”

“Aww, really? Only your Ghost? What about me?”

“Yes, Johnny, what about Daniela?”

“Can it, LT.”

But between Los Vaqueros and the 141, they made it. Soap couldn’t put into words how much relief he felt upon seeing Gaz and hearing the old man’s voice. After being hoisted to the top, he and Daniela ended up shoulder to shoulder, her covering him while he detonated the Shadows vehicles.

“Have you been with the 141 long?” she shouted over the sounds of gunfire.

“The 141 hasn’t been around all that long,” he shouted back. “But yeah, I’ve been with ‘em since the start.” He raised his rifle, picking off three snipers with three shots.

Daniela raised an impressed eyebrow. “I can see why!”

Soap grinned wide, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye as he raised the detonator. “Would you be impressed if I told you I rigged the explosives for these things, too?”

Daniela returned his grin full force. “I would be.”

Soap’s grin only widened before he pressed the button, eyes locked with Daniela’s. He lowered his voice and said “Ka-freaking-boom, baby.” She’d giggled when he said it earlier, and as the APC exploded, she let out another delighted squeal.

“Handsome and clever? This is a good combination, Johnny,” she said. Soap was grateful that shooting was such second nature to him because in that moment, all coherent thoughts ceased to exist. When he managed to look back to Daniela, she was smiling slyly. She picked off a sniper from across the yard and Soap shook his head. Witty, intelligent, beautiful, and a good shot. 

When the door to their right crashed open, Soap threw himself in front of Daniela to cover her as they each shot one of the men inside. Ghost barked at Soap about weapons, and he came back to the wall with a grenade launcher. He released several grenades before the last of Alejandro’s men mounted the wall top, and then made sure that Daniela went down the other side before him.

When he stumbled getting to their transport out, he chalked it up to battle fatigue, which he told both Ghost and Daniela when they asked whether he was okay. Neither looked convinced, but neither questioned him. They did sit on either side of him for the ride back to the safehouse, though.

Daniela leaned close to him. “How do you feel?” she asked.

“Never better,” he lied. His whole body throbbed in varying levels of discomfort and pain. At least his head had stopped throbbing. Daniela leveled her gaze at him, and he returned a wide grin. She rolled her eyes and dropped it. Instead, she said “Thank you for covering me. You didn’t have to do that.”

Soap’s grin softened. “I know,” he said.

Back at the safe house, lively music played softly in the garage as Los Vaqueros cleaned weapons, loaded vehicles, and fed themselves. Soap felt slightly out of place, like he and the rest of the 141 were walking into someone’s home. Everyone either had something to say or shook hands with Daniela and Rodolfo as they passed, and they both smiled warmly at their friends.

Soap and Ghost made their way to an unoccupied pair of cots in the corner, observing their newfound comrades. Price had disappeared with Alejandro to formulate a plan, ordering the two to sleep. But exhausted as he was, Soap wasn’t sure he’d be able to.

He couldn’t get comfortable. No matter which way he turned, something ached or stung. He tried relaxing his muscles. He tried breathing deeply. He tried counting sheep. 

Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the fire and the blood from the streets of Las Almas. He could hear the screaming and the pleading and the gunfire. He tried covering his eyes, and his ears. Eventually, he rolled to his side, facing Ghost. He was startled to meet the Lieutenant’s eyes. 

“Simon?” Soap asked softly. 

“Johnny,” said Ghost, equally as softly. 

Soap chewed his lip. “Do you ever forget?”

Ghost held his stare, unflinching. “No. You don’t.” Soap hadn’t realized before, but Ghost’s eyes were bloodshot. He looked tired. He’d learned quickly that he slept infrequently, and for short periods of time. It made a lot more sense, now. Ghost rolled over, huffing out a soft breath. “But eventually, you’ll learn to sleep anyway.”

Soap stared at his back, wondering if he would. Wondering if Ghost ever had. He didn’t know how long he stared at his teammate, but it felt like hours later that someone sat gently on the end of his cot. He flew up, grabbing for the bowie knife he kept in his tactical vest. 

Daniela raised her hands, offering a tired smile. “Mind if I take a look at that arm?”

“Sure.” Soap swung his legs off of the cot, resting his hands on the edge. Daniela turned toward him, reaching out and carefully pulling off the dressing she’d applied that early morning. 

“How does it feel? Any sharp pains or itching? Any dizziness, fever?” As soon as she said fever, Soap realized he’d been sweating more than usual. He’d absolutely been feeling dizzy since that harrowing night on the run, but it seemed to have died down throughout the day. And now that he actually paid attention long enough, it was quite itchy.

“No,” he lied. Once again, those ocean eyes seemed to pierce his very soul, challenging him. She knew. But she didn’t say anything, simply reached into the med kit for the same bottle of antibiotics and handed him two. Soap took them gratefully. The team couldn’t afford to be without him, and Ghost would surely order him to stay back if he thought the Sergeant was at all compromised.

Again, she washed the wound with antiseptic, then applied a fresh coat of salve before covering it with a fresh bandage.

“Why are you awake, anyway?” she asked suddenly. Soap’s head snapped up, eyes flying to hers. She looked nearly as exhausted as Ghost, all bloodshot eyes and frazzled hair and sagging shoulders. Still gorgeous.

Soap shrugged uncomfortably. “Couldn’t sleep. What about you?”

She shrugged back, offering a small smile. “Couldn’t sleep either. It makes sense, though. You’ve been through a lot the last few days.” The last few days? When Soap cocked an eyebrow at her, she fidgeted a bit. “I, uh… I was there in the cartel house. When Valeria interrogated you.”

Several things clicked into place for Soap very suddenly. Alejandro had taken him to the elevator once he got into the cartel house, and another guard had escorted him out and down to the basement. Small, with ocean-blue eyes. Then at the oil rig, Alejandro had sent one man with Soap and Graves to the ship. Dani.

“You’re strong for your size,” said Soap in awe. Daniela had shoved him repeatedly through the hallway, even tapping the side of his face with the butt of her gun when he had begun to look over his shoulder.

She smiled wryly. “Sorry about that. We had to make it real, and we couldn’t risk any more comms than we had.”

“No, no, it’s okay. You did good,” said Soap. “Why can’t you sleep?”

Daniela shifted again. “I don’t do so well the night before big missions. I usually bunk next to Alelandro or Rodolfo, but they’re both… occupied. So, I came over here instead. To you.”

Soap’s heart melted. He was so drawn to this woman, and to know that she felt even a fraction of that bond made his heart swell with gratitude. “You can bunk with us,” he said quickly. Then, glancing around, he realized that there didn’t seem to be any available cots. “Take my cot. I can sleep in a chair.”

Daniela’s face had washed with relief when he spoke, but some tension returned as she looked down at her hands. “Don’t be silly,” she mumbled. “I’m not putting you out of your cot after the week you’ve had.”

“Well then, you’ll just have to share it with me,” teased Soap. He held his breath when Daniela’s head snapped up. He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to say anything so bold, but he’d taken it and run with it. “There’s plenty of space for both of us.”

“If I sleep on top of you, maybe,” snorted Daniela. Soap wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Daniela giggled.

Soap softened his voice, speaking more seriously. “I really don’t mind sharing.”

She contemplated for a moment, sighed, and then rolled her eyes. “Fine. Just don’t complain if I crush you.”

Now it was Soap’s turn to snort. He lay down carefully, his back to Ghost’s cot, and raised his right arm. Daniela lay down beside him, turning onto her side and tucking herself under his chin. A perfect fit. Soap gently let his arm come down over her waist, laying his hand on the cot rail.

“This okay?” he whispered. She nodded. Soap nodded, too. His heart was pounding. He hadn’t been close to someone like this in… well, a long time.

The 141 was his whole life. There was always work to be done, and without a family to go home to, there was no real reason to take leave. On the rare occasion he did, he just ended up in his home town in Scotland. He’d flirt, constantly, but he seldom brought anyone home. He longed for something deeper, and sex alone could never fill that void. Plus, no one wanted to commit to someone who could be gone for months at a time.

But this? To be close to someone? This was filling the void just fine. Soap had to fight the urge to pull her further back against him as her breathing evened out, her body naturally leaning more on his own. As he dozed, he was proud of himself for staying still. He drifted in and out of sleep, dreaming empty dreams and feeling her shift against him.

As he finally woke up the next morning, he felt his hip aching fiercely. He started to shift to take some pressure off of it, and froze. Slowly opening his eyes, he saw Daniela’s wild hair. He groggily remembered that they’d shared a cot the night before. All of his pride at his self-control dissolved instantly when he realized that his arm was around her waist, holding her tightly to his chest. She must have turned over in her sleep, because her leg was thrown over his hip, pulling their bodies flush together. 

He could already feel a problem, and this was not the time or place. He had to get out of this cot without waking her up. He shifted back, then froze as Daniela’s hand ran up to the back of his head to tangle her fingers in his mohawk. Her eyelids fluttered, her fingers pulled lightly at his hair, and her leg tightened around his hips. Soap’s eyes fluttered shut as he swallowed a groan. Fuck. When he opened his eyes again, she was smiling at him sleepily.

“That’s the best sleep I’ve gotten in months,” she whispered. Soap nodded, desperately trying to get his body under control before she woke up any more. To his dismay, she nuzzled closer to him, nose rubbing under his jaw and hips shifting back and forth for a moment. Her eyes snapped open, eyebrows arching. “Feels like you slept pretty well, too, eh big boy?” Hells bells, this woman. Soap barely suppressed a full body shudder as she beamed at him.

“I didn’t, I’m not, I-” he stuttered. But Daniela placed her fingers over his lips, silencing him. Her eyes were full of mirth.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” she teased. Then she languidly stretched, pressing against him as much as humanly possible before climbing out of the cot and sashaying away, tossing a wicked grin over her shoulder at him. Soap turned to Ghost’s cot, which was blessedly empty, and then pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, still fighting for his body to cooperate. Hells fucking bells.

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

When Alejandro called his men, all sound stopped. The place became a real base in that moment. Los Vaqueros and the 141 gathered around a makeshift operations table, listening intently as Price spoke.

“This is a fight against our own. We are not 141 and Los Vaqueros on this. We’re a team. Ghost team.”

Soap’s eyebrows shot up when the Captain dumped out a bucket of masks, then his eyes snapped up to Ghost. Ghost was staring at him, and Soap was almost certain he was steeling himself. Their silent conversation lasted only a moment before Ghost reached up, pulling off his mask, pausing before reaching for one from the table. Price reached a hand up to his shoulder.

“Good to see you again, Simon,” he said.

Soap carefully schooled his features in an attempt to soothe Ghost’s nerves, but he felt a distinct surge of pride in being one of the few to be allowed to know the Lieutenant. As the older man adjusted the mask over his face, the two shared another weighted look. Soap quirked up one corner of his mouth, shaking his head. Quite the opposite, indeed.

Alejandro laid out the plan to get into the Los Vaqueros facility. “We’ll infiltrate the base with two Ghost teams. Team one is Captain Price, Gaz, me, and one pilot. Team two is Ghost, Soap, Rudy, Dani, and Los Vaqueros.”

Ghost and Soap looked to each other and nodded. Then Soap turned to Daniela, raising an eyebrow. He mouthed “Dani?” 

She smirked, mouthing back “Johnny?”

Soap grinned. He looked to Ghost, who was shaking his head. But his eyes were crinkled with mirth.

“While Gaz and me locate and secure Valeria, Ghost team 2 will find Graves… and kill him.”

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

Ghost team 2 fought their way through the base to the HQ building, then fought their way through that. Soap and Ghost moved together like they’d fought together for years, and Daniela and Rodolfo effortlessly slotted themselves into their dynamic. Between the three of them, no Shadows made it more than a few steps into the open.

Watching Price’s helo go down had Soap’s stomach sinking. “Steamin’ hell!” Soap shouted. He and Ghost shared a heavy look while Daniela and Rodolfo cursed softly. Rodolfo quickly recovered, clambering up the wall with Soap’s help. Daniela followed after, lightly stepping into Soap’s linked hands before joining Rodolfo in straddling the wall. The two of them pulled Soap up quickly, who turned to Ghost.

“Ghost, you comin’?” he asked.

“No. Price and the pilot need help. You three finish this.”

Soap’s head whipped back and forth between Ghost and the other side of the wall until he saw something that made his stomach drop even more. “Look!” he shouted.

“That’s not ours!” shouted Rodolfo.

“Holy shite. Graves brought a fuckin’ tank!” growled Soap, dropping to the ground. He glanced at Rodolfo and Daniela. “You ready for this?”

“Hell yeah!” answered Rodolfo. Daniela nodded curtly. Soap motioned for the three to split up.

“Looks like the hunters are getting hunted now, huh?” came Graves’ sneering voice. “Ain’t that a kick in the ass?”

“Can’t wait to bake this bastard,” grumbled Soap. He, Daniela, and Rodolfo had run into different buildings. Rodolfo tried to call out C4 stashes, Daniela threw grenades as she could, and Soap gestured for both of them to stay down and inside. Then he ran for his life.

“You and your mexicano friends fucked with the wrong hombre, MacTavish!” yelled Graves.

“Come on out and let’s talk about it,” quipped Soap. Daniela snorted, and despite the severity of the situation, Soap found himself smiling.

Graves seemed altogether less pleased. “You think this is a fucking game out here? You wanna play war? Let’s play some fucking war, chicos! One of you dipshits needs to die last. Who’s it gonna be?”

“Go fuck yourself, Graves.” Soap threw a brick of C4 straight into the tank’s path, silently congratulating himself when it blew.

“You got a healthy disrespect for authority, Soap. I like that about you!”

“You’re Shepherd’s lap dog. You get paid to break the rules.”

“There’s only two rules here, boys. Walk away… or win. Guess which one I choose?” Soap vaulted through a window. It wasn’t high, but the landing still made his hip throb in protest. He grunted softly. “Shoulda gone home when you had the chance, Soap- you and that asshole with the mask, hiding behind that uniform.”

Soap’s temper instantly flared. “You wore that uniform,” he ground out. He was crouched by another C4 stash, trying to judge Graves’ location.

“That uniform was a limitation!” shouted Graves. “I shed that skin!”

“Like a fuckin’ snake,” Soap hissed.

“Like a fuckin’ soldier, son.”

“You had to make your own little army ‘cause you couldn’t hack it in the real one.” This time, Soap managed to stick the side of the tank with C4 as it passed. He ran, detonated, and silently cheered again when he heard the second explosion.

Soap managed to tune out most of the rest of what Graves said, until he turned his attention to Rodolfo. His Spanish wasn’t great, but he picked up the general idea that Graves was saying the 141 were no friends to Los Vaqueros.

“Oye, pendejo!” Daniela’s voice suddenly cut through the radio. Most of what she said was lost to Soap, but she sounded furious. He picked out the words “friends”, “assholes like you”, “good people”, and “brothers”, and “death”. Hermanos hasta la muerte.

Graves must have understood more than Soap, because his driving became erratic and he shouted back to Daniela in what Soap did recognize as poorly pronounced Spanish. 

Her distraction gave him enough time to sneak up behind the tank and lay one last brick of C4 between the tank’s body and tread. But just as he started to back off, the gun began to swing in his direction. Soap braced himself to run, and then froze. 

“Graves!” Daniela shouted. She had leapt up to stand in the window of the building directly ahead of Soap. As the tank's gun swung back in her direction, Soap scrambled to his feet, racing forward. 

“Pinche tu madre,” she sneered. 

Soap could hear the tank’s gun spinning up.

“No!” He shouted. Daniela’s head snapped in his direction. Her face fell when they locked stares, eyes flashing with anxiety. She took half a step toward him, but Soap launched himself through the window. In one smooth motion, he wrapped his arm around Daniela’s waist, yanked her against himself, and pulled them to the ground. He landed hard on his shoulder as he heard the tank fire and rolled her under him as fast as he could, tucking his head against hers and shielding them both with his arms. The building crumbled under the impact, sheetrock and dust raining down on them. Several chunks of sheetrock landed across Soap’s back. That’ll be a few new bruises.

As it began to settle, Soap raised his head just enough to look down at Daniela. They were nose to nose when she opened her eyes, hands coming up to run over his covered head. 

“Y’alright?” Soap whispered. She nodded frantically. 

“You?” He nodded. As he shifted his shoulders, bits of rubble fell off and cracked against the ground. He winced. 

He looked up and around. Graves’ tank was rotating, looking for them. He glanced to the stairs, then looked back down at Daniela. 

“Hold onto me,” he whispered. Daniela cocked an eyebrow, but wrapped her arms around his neck. Soap grabbed one of her legs behind the knee, wrapping it around his waist, and she smirked before wrapping her other leg around his back as well. As serious as the situation was, their position wasn’t lost on Soap. Twice in one day? He swallowed hard. C’mon, MacTavish.

As quickly as he dared, he crawled for the stairwell. He could see Graves’ tank through the doorway on the opposite wall, facing away. In the last meter, he leapt to his feet and ran up several steps, stopping midway to lean against the wall. Daniela slid down his body, resting her hands on his chest. Soap shivered. They were both panting slightly. Her eyes shone as she looked up at him. 

“Gracías, guapo,” she said softly. Then her hand snapped up to her earpiece. She started down for a moment, then looked back up at Soap. “Rodolfo moved to Los Vaqueros private channel. He says there should be an RPG downstairs,” she said. 

Soap nodded, clicking through channels until he could hear Rudy’s voice. “I’ll get it,” he said.

Daniela grabbed his arm as he moved, stopping him in his tracks. “Be careful,” she said. He nodded, clasping her arm. 

“I will.”

He crept down the stairs, peeking around the wall to where he’d last seen Graves’ tank. It wasn’t there. Staying low, he rounded the corner, eyes searching frantically for the RPG.

“Check under the counter, hermano,” whispered Rodolfo. When Soap glanced up, he could barely see the other man peeking around a doorframe across the yard. He crept to the bar counter, slid open the door as quietly as possible, and grabbed the RPG inside.

“Siiick,” said Soap, raising the RPG to his shoulder. With his back to the wall, he slowly made his way to an opening, searching for Graves. Not seeing him, he stayed. And breathed. And waited.

He could hear the thing driving around outside, searching for him or the others. He just hoped they were well hidden.

His radio crackled. “He’s heading your way, Soap,” said Daniela quietly.

“Rog’,” he replied. “Stay down.”

Carefully, he crouched and turned, ready to fire as soon as the tank came into view. He didn’t have to wait long. With a deep breath, he stood, pulled the trigger, and dove behind the cabinet again. The explosion from the tank seemed to rock the very ground. He realized that he’d never detonated the last brick of C4. Double trouble, then.

Slowly, Soap stood and leaned around the corner. Graves’ tank was a ball of fire, smoke and flames billowing into the sky. He heard Daniela step down the stairs, then felt her small hand on his shoulder blade. Rudy peeked around the corner of a doorway, looking around before stepping outside. Soap and Daniela did the same, cautiously walking forward.

“You did it, Soap,” said Rodolfo softly.

“You two and me, hermano,” said Soap.

“Brought a gun to a tank fight.”

Soap chuckled, smiling under his mask. “Yeah we did!” He reached for his radio, clicking back to the main channel. “Soap to Ghost- I’m with Rudy. Graves is KIA. How’s Price?”“Angry. Lost a good cigar in the crash. Pilot’s okay, too. Out.”

Rodolfo relayed the message to Alejandro. They all took a moment to breathe. And then they moved out to meet Ghost Team 1.

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

Soap’s head was spinning. They had all known Valeria was a wildcard, but he didn’t think any of them had expected her to drop the bomb of information that a missile was in Chicago. Not even Alejandro. Price handed her off to Los Vaqueros almost immediately, the threat in his voice clear. Soap wasn’t surprised, and he didn’t expect to ever see her alive again.

He was surprised when he had to lift Daniela up and out of the container after she lunged for Valeria. He dragged her out kicking and screaming in Spanish, all curses and threats. Rudy followed them out first, trying to calm her down, but there was nothing for it. The other woman was single-handedly responsible for the deaths of all of her family and friends. Soap couldn’t fault her rage.

Gaz came out next, raising his eyebrows at Soap in a silent question. Soap nodded, affirming that he was alright. Daniela had stopped thrashing, but her chest still rose and fell quickly against his arms. He’d had to lean back against the wall, lifting her feet off the ground to keep her from beelining to the container. Now she stood, back against his chest, hands gripping his tactical harness where it crossed his thighs.

“I won’t pretend to know what you’re feeling,” Gaz began softly. He paced slowly back and forth in front of them. “But I do know that she’s not worth throwing your life away.”

“She stole my life!” hissed Daniela. “She took my family. She took everything from me! And now she’s doing it all again! More people will lose their lives, lose their families, if she isn’t stopped!”

“But she gave you a purpose,” said Gaz firmly. He’d stopped pacing, staring directly at Daniela now. “You’ll never let that happen to anyone ever again. We are going to stop her. And I know it’s not the same thing, but she gave you a family, too. Hell, she gave you two families. You, Alejandro, Rodolfo? Los Vaqueros? You’ll always have a family with the 141, now.”

Soap squeezed her just a bit tighter at that, his own silent affirmation. After a moment, Daniela’s hands released his harness and lay flat against his legs. She seemed to sag back against him. Her voice shook slightly when she spoke.

“Gracias, hermano.”

Gaz simply nodded before returning to the container. For several minutes, Soap and Daniela said nothing. Then, very softly, she said “You can let me go.”

“Aye? You won’t kick me in the shins and run off to kill her anyway?”

Daniela snorted at that. “No.” With one final squeeze, Soap let her go. As he did, Alejandro came storming out of the container, followed closely by Rodolfo. He moved straight for Daniela, gripping her shoulders.

“We’re going to be hunted men, Dani,” he said. “I’m not letting her get away with this. Rodolfo and I will handle her, and we’ll handle the cartel. But you…” He looked up at Soap, then back at Daniela. He pointed to Soap with one finger. “You need to go with them. I don’t want you to be a part of this.”

“Alejandro, no, soy-”

“No,” he growled. He tilted his head back to look at the ceiling, and Soap realized when he looked at Daniela again that he was tearing up. He lowered his head to her level, staring at her intently. “What did I tell you the night we found you?”

Rodolfo had turned his head away, shoulders stiff. Soap couldn’t see her face, but he could hear in her voice that Daniela was tearing up, too. “You told me you would always protect me,” she whimpered.

Alejandro shook her gently. “This is me protecting you, hermana.” He pointed to Soap. “That man will protect you with his life. You told me so yourself. Rodolfo told me.” He glanced back to Soap, who nodded, stunned. “And I can see it when I look at him, and the way he looks at you. You have to go with them. You have to get that missile, and you have to stay out of Mexico until this dies down. And then you know we’ll welcome you back with open arms.”

Rodolfo turned, reaching out a hand to hold Daniela’s. “This has always been our fight, mijá,” he whispered. “It doesn’t have to be yours. And I know you chose it, but this time… just let us do this for you. Sabes que te amamos.”

Price and Gaz had come out of the container again, Price holding Valeria. They both nodded to Soap, who nodded to Daniela when she looked over to him. Her gaze dropped, and then she looked back to her men.

“Yo sé que tú,” she whispered.

Alejandro moved to Soap while Rodolfo hugged Daniela.

“Go. You have work to do,” he said. Then he pulled Soap closer, and softly said “Take care of her.”“You know I will,” whispered Soap. He backed toward their plane. “Keep fighting the good fight, hermano!” he called.“To the bitter end, my brother!” said Alejandro.

“Good luck, amigos,” said Rodolfo.

Price shoved Valeria into the backseat of Alejandro and Rodolfo’s vehicle while Soap, Ghost, and Daniela moved to board the aircraft Gaz had already started up.

“Ghost!” called Alejandro. Ghost turned back, cocking his head slightly. “No te pierdas, hermano!”

Whatever Ghost said back, Soap didn’t understand. But Daniela smiled, blowing a kiss with two fingers that Alejandro caught out of midair and held to his heart. Then they turned, boarded the plane, and were away.

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

Soap had long since abandoned his fear of heights. Walking down a 60-story building didn’t make him nervous, but the hostage situation did. Ghost’s calm helped him keep his cool, though, and soon enough, Daniela was getting hostages out of the building while Soap and Price moved on Hassan. They cleared entire floors of the building in record times.

“And that’s why they call him Soap,” mumbled Ghost. Daniela’s answering giggle warmed Soap’s heart. Upon hearing this, Ghost added “Did you know he’s the youngest one of us? Got in with the SAS at sixteen.”

“Sixteen? Soap, you get more and more impressive the more I learn about you!”

Soap’s face flamed.

Despite the hostages, the mission was going smoothly. Too smoothly. Then, Laswell announced that Hassan had the controls. Ghost confirmed visual on floor 46, and back out they went.

“Soap, we find those controls, it’s up to you to disarm that missile.”

“Copy that… done it once before.”

The RPG could have ruined the whole plan, but Soap and Price were both lucky that it missed them. They moved into the building as quickly as possible, clearing yet another room in record time with Ghost’s sniper support.

When Gaz called that they had the target cornered, Soap and Price raced in his direction. Then came Laswell saying that the missile was launching. Everyone was speaking at once.

“No, no, no!” screamed Price. 

“Fecking hell,” growled Soap.

“Watcher, where’s the target?” yelled Price.

“Unknown, we’re working on it.”

“Copy. We’re going for Hassan. This way Sergeant!” he yelled to Soap. Then, “Gaz, where’s Hassan?”

Price and Soap were rounding the corner when Gaz answered. “End of the hall! Hassan’s holed up behind those doors.”

Price’s response was furious. “Let’s clear this out and bag him, then.”

When they got the snake cam under the door, the whole thing went to shit. 

The door blew. Soap and Price flew back and Gaz collapsed like a bag of rocks. Soap’s ears were ringing, he was bleeding, and he could hardly breathe. Only Gaz’s quick recovery saved his life. He was dragged into cover before Price took a bullet and Gaz went back for him, too.

Everything after was a blur. One moment, Soap was leaping down a falling elevator shaft. The next, he was running from the man he stole the laptop from. Then hiding. Then detonating the missile with Laswell’s help. Then, running for his life, again. 

“Nicely done, Johnny. Now for the hard part,” said Ghost.

“That was the fuckin’ hard part, LT.”

“Let’s find out. You need to stay alive, take out the guards, and kill Hassan.”

Soap looked around frantically. “I just need a weapon,” he said.

“Make one,” Ghost replied. He sounded so nonchalant. It made Soap huff out a laugh.

“Aye. Like old times, huh LT?”

Ghost’s voice was fond when he said “Seems like yesterday.”

Soap replied with equal fondness. “It was yesterday.”

He hid. He ran. With Ghost’s help, he fashioned some makeshift weapons. Then he ran headlong into Hassan. Before he could react, his world went dark.

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

When Soap came to, he was being dragged by his foot. At first, he wasn’t sure where he was. Then he recognized the office he’d been chasing Hassan through.

Hassan. It was Hassan dragging him along.

Sluggishly, his mind went through his team. Ghost. Overwatch. Price. Holed up trying to recover. Gaz. Unknown. Daniela.

Daniela.

Alejandro had sent her with him and he didn’t even know where she was, whether she was safe. His heart twinged painfully. He didn’t have time to think, though. Hassan was yelling about fire and thinking they could stop him. Soap couldn’t focus on it.

Ghost.

“Ghost,” he whispered into his throat mic.

“Soap!”

“Watch… the window,” he managed.

Something exploded.

Hassan dragged him to his feet. Still going on about invading, not attacking.

He thrust Soap in front of him, pushing him toward the window. Soap desperately tried to keep his footing.

“Soap,” said Ghost. Soap vaguely recognized panic in his voice. “Soap, I see him, but I can’t-”

“Take the shot, LT,” mumbled Soap.

“What was that? What are you saying?” Hassan had him by his vest now, shaking him violently. 

“Soap, I can’t get a clear-”

“Take. The shot.” Soap’s jaw was clenched. It took all of his power to hold onto Hassan’s wrists enough not to fall back. Hassan was still pushing forward, shouting, and Soap was fighting a losing battle. Hassan was going to push him out of the window.

And he couldn’t stop it.

“I’m sorry,” said Ghost.

Then, just as Soap’s heels touched the ledge, searing pain shot through his chest. He lurched forward with the impact, falling into Hassan.

Hassan’s eyes were wide. Soap thought he saw blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His rattled brain couldn’t make sense of it as they both fell to the ground.

“Johnny, MOVE!” roared Ghost. With the last of his energy, Soap shoved as hard as he could, rolling off of Hassan’s body. Another piercing shot rang out and Hassan’s head cracked backward against the ground. 

Soap blinked at Hassan’s body. Ghost was shouting for him through his earpiece. Suddenly, the pieces clicked into place.

“You shot me,” he said dumbly to Ghost.

“Oh thank God,” muttered Ghost. He could hear Daniela shrieking in the background, too.

“You saved me,” he said. The whole room seemed colorful and soft. Spinning. Like a carousel.

Soap smiled, head lolling down.

He could vaguely hear Ghost and Daniela and Gaz yelling, but he was too tired to listen. Just a wee nap. That’s all I need.

Footsteps pounded nearby. With great effort, Soap turned his head. It didn’t hold where he wanted it to, just flopped onto the ground on the other side. He watched a small black pair of boots race across the floor toward him.

“No no no no, hijo de puta. Por favor, Dios, no.” Suddenly, Soap’s head and shoulders were being lifted. Then he was dragged back against something soft. He looked up. Daniela was running her hands over his head, his chest, clawing at his tactical vest. “Por favor, Dios, no,” she repeated. Her voice shook as badly as her hands and tears streamed down her face.

“Hey,” Soap said. He grinned up at her. “Whassa matter? Why’re you crying?”

He reached a hand up to her, wiping her cheek with his thumb. He couldn’t keep it raised and it flopped back to his side.

“John Soap MacTavish, you’d better not die on me,” she muttered. She had gotten his vest loose and was pulling his shirt up roughly. 

“Hey, bonnie, at least buy me dinner first,” he slurred. He chuckled. It was silly. It was all so silly. He could hear Ghost yelling faintly, but he wasn’t sure why. Daniela was leaning heavily on his chest, and he wasn’t sure about that either.

Suddenly, he felt as though he’d been sat out in snow for a good few hours. “Hey, are you cold?” he asked Daniela.

“Hey,” Daniela said sharply. She gripped his chin between her fingers. “Look at me.”

Clarity hit Soap like a ton of bricks. He’d been shot. He was bleeding. Cold from shock. That’s why Daniela was crying and Ghost was yelling. He’d been knocked out. Likely had a concussion. He looked up at her solemnly, grabbing her wrist with his hand. Don’t die on me, she’d said. He was dying.

They’d talked quite a bit over their few days together. Talked about their hopes and dreams, and how those fit into their dangerous lives. Talked about their dedication to their teams, their values, their futures. Talked about growing up, their families, how they’d gotten there. 

She’d asked him if he’d ever been in love.

He’d said he hadn’t. But he wasn’t so sure that was true, any more.

When he’d asked her, she’d said “maybe” with a sly smile his direction, all twinkling eyes and rosy cheeks.

He blinked, hard. He wanted to know what that meant.

“What did you mean… when you said maybe?” he panted out.

For a moment, Daniela just blinked at him. Then her eyes softened, tears slipping down her cheeks as she understood his question. “I meant I might be,” she whispered. “I’m not quite sure yet. You’ll have to give me some time to figure it out.”

Soap hummed, eyes drifting shut. “I’m pretty sure,” he breathed. Daniela gasped, but he reached up to touch her cheek before she could say anything. “You,” he began, voice a whisper. “You are the most… the most beautiful, intelligent, amazing woman that… that I’ve ever-”

Daniela didn’t let him finish. Her lips were on his before he knew it. He was kissing her before even registering that she’d leaned down. Her lips were soft, just like he’d imagined. She tasted like strawberries and mint and salt. Tears. She kissed him desperately, and he kissed her desperately back. His hand slid back to tangle in her curls. So unbelievably soft.  He could hardly move his head, but she tilted her own to deepen the kiss. She ran her tongue along the seam of his lips and he moaned, low in his chest. He weakly tried to pull her closer. No point hiding it now. Besides, if he was going to die, what better way to go? More footsteps pounded in the door. He could vaguely make out Gaz and Price’s voices.

And then, above them all, nearly a full octave up in his panic, Ghost. “Johnny!”

Daniela’s teeth lightly grazed his lip. Soap sighed, then everything went black.

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

Soap woke to a gentle beeping. His head and mouth felt like they were stuffed with cotton. His body felt like one big bruise, but with shards of glass sprinkled throughout it. He couldn’t open his eyes. There was light pressure against his right hip.

He breathed deeply. Ouch.

Slowly, his eyes cracked open. The room was dark, but moonlight streamed in through a window out of the corner of his eye. He could see that the ceiling was bright white.

“Johnny?”

Slowly, he turned his head toward the familiar voice. As he did, Ghost rose to his feet from his chair, taking two quick steps to the bedside.

Soap opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Ghost scrambled to pour a cup of water, then gently helped Soap lift his head to drink. As he did, Soap realized what the pressure on his hip was. Daniela.

Her head lay at the junction of his torso and legs, black curls shining in the moonlight. The bags under her eyes were nearly as dark as Ghost’s grease paint. Her right hand gripped his thigh, and her left hand held his. She didn’t stir.

Soap swallowed several times. “What happened?” he finally asked.

Ghost’s gaze dropped to the floor. “Do you want the short or long story?” he asked. His voice sounded exhausted.

“How about the short one, for now?”

“I shot you,” said Ghost. For a moment, Soap thought he wouldn’t elaborate. Then, Ghost looked up to meet his eyes. “I shot you, Johnny. Because you told me to. Because you’re the best of us, and you’re clever.”

Soap nodded, eyes drifting shut, not processing Ghost’s words.

“You’re lucky I’m such a good shot,” Ghost added, grumbling.

Soap chuckled softly, wincing as he did. “That I am,” he said. “Hassan?”

“I shot him, too. Twice, actually.”

“Through me the first time, eh LT?”

Ghost looked unamused. But when Soap grinned at him, his eyes softened. “That’s right, Johnny.”

“Perfect shot, LT.”“You called it, Sargeant.”

“The best of us, huh LT?”

“Can it, Sergeant.”

For a moment, the two shared a companionable silence. Then, Ghost spoke so softly that Soap thought he may have imagined it. “I almost didn’t take it.”

“The shot? Why not?”

“There was no shot. He had you directly in front of him, and he would have thrown you out that window before I had time to move.”

“You still got him, LT. I’ll call that a win.”“We got him, Johnny.”

“I’m starting to think you really have taken a shine to me, Simon.”

Ghost hung his head before looking back up. “Maybe I have.” He turned, picking up his chair, and sat it right by the bed as quietly as he could. “That one has, for sure.” He nodded to Daniela.

Soap looked down at her. “How long have you both been here?”

“Since you got here,” Ghost mumbled. Soap’s head snapped back to him.

“And when was that?”

Ghost shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Four days, give or take.” Soap stared at him. Finally, he threw up his hands. “You, Sergeant, should have died.”

He lifted one gloved hand, ticking off fingers as he spoke. “You have a field-treated gunshot wound to your right arm, which was in fact infected. Thank your lucky stars that Daniela saw through your idiocy.” That explained a lot of little things he’d missed. Like a passenger in a getaway vehicle. “A bruised bone in your hip. Three cracked ribs. A grade four concussion. Multiple hairline fractures in your legs. And a shredded left pec from a 50 caliber bullet. Might I add that last one only missed your heart by centimeters?”

Soap snorted. “Well, that explains a lot about how I feel. Hell, how I’ve been feeling.”

Ghost just shook his head. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Thought we lost ya. Again.”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy, LT.”

“Good,” grumbled Ghost. He looked toward Daniela. “I had to pry her off of you,” he said softly. 

Soap looked down at her again. She looked younger than before, peaceful in her slumber. But he could see the exhaustion plainly on her face. “Yeah?” he asked. 

“Mhmm,” murmured Ghost. “Could hardly get her across the hall to shower.”

Soap let his eyes drift shut, exhaustion washing over him all over again. “Where are we, anyway?”

“Amsterdam. Laswell has friends here. We’re in a private hospital.”

“Price? And Gaz?”

“They’re trying to find a lead on Shepherd.”

Soap nodded sleepily, relieved that their squad was still intact. “She kissed me,” he murmured. 

“Doctors say she saved your life with that.”

Soap hummed, cracking one eye open to peer at Ghost. He shrugged. 

“Something about the adrenaline helping to push off the shock.”

Soap hummed again, letting his eyes slide shut.

“Sleep, Johnny.”

He did. 

When he woke again, sunlight was streaming through the window. He shifted slightly, and felt Daniela spring up when he did. 

When he opened his eyes, she was staring at him anxiously. 

“Good morning, beautiful,” Soap murmured. 

Tears sprang instantly to her eyes. She squeezed his thigh, standing and reaching her hand up to cup his face.

“Oh, Johnny,” she whispered.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” he said. He reached up a hand to hold hers against his cheek. “I’m right here.”

She shifted a leg up onto the bed, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his.

“I thought I’d lost you.”

“I’m right here,” he whispered again. “Ghost said you saved my life.”

She made a strangled sound, half laugh and half sob. “I couldn’t let you go like that.”

Soap shifted his hand to her face, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Well,” he said. “If you remember, I was a bit out of my mind.” He tilted her chin up gently, whispering “Care to give me another taste of those lifesaving powers of yours?”

Daniela lunged forward, sealing her lips to his. Soap eyes slid shut as he grinned, pulling her closer. Her mouth opened against his, and he ran his tongue against hers. When she whimpered into his mouth, the primal need to have her close overcame him. He leaned up as far as he could, cursing the sling on his left shoulder, chasing her mouth. His hand moved to the back of her neck, holding her against him. She straddled him carefully, elbows coming to rest above his shoulders. 

Her whole body shuddered when his hand came to rest on her hip.

His eyes snapped open. “I’m sorry-”

“No,” she cut him off, panting. She reached one hand up, threading her fingers through his mohawk. “There’s no reason.” Soap groaned when her nails lightly scratched his scalp.

“Woman, the things I would do to you if I wasn’t stuck in this bed…”

She shuddered again before she leaned down and kissed the place that his jaw and neck met. His whole body involuntarily arched off the bed, hand moving from her hip to the small of her back to pull her against him. She gasped at the contact. However light she was, her weight on his hip hurt. But he was too far gone to care. He leaned up again, gently sucking her lip between his as she sighed into his mouth.

His mind was clouded with the desire for intimacy with her. He wanted all of her. First in their single shared night, and now in their kiss, Soap saw waking up to her every morning, cooking together, trips to the stormy Scottish coast and the sunny Caribbean. He’d been drawn to her from the moment he saw her, and he knew from the way she looked at him that she’d been drawn to him just as much. He’d tried so hard to remain professional. To keep distance. To be a gentleman. To pretend he hadn’t fallen in love with her the moment he heard her speak.

Then she’d slept in his cot and he’d had to know what it was like to have her in his arms. Having tasted her once, there was no going back to professional and distant. Having tasted her twice? She owned him. There was no pretending, now.

His train of thought was interrupted by a sharp cough from the doorway. Daniela sprang up, scrambling off the bed with one hand covering her mouth. Soap’s head whipped toward the door. Ghost was there, finding something very interesting to look at in the ceiling, along with a pretty nurse who was smiling widely.

“Glad to see you’re feeling better, Sergeant,” she quipped. Soap grinned wryly first at her, then at Daniela. “My name’s Cat, I’m a friend of Kate’s. Mind if I take a look at you?”

Soap nodded, Daniela sat herself in the corner, and Ghost continued to pay close attention to the ceiling and walls. Soap narrowed his eyes, watching the Lieutenant closely. 

Cat turned to Daniela and Ghost. “Would you two-”

“They can stay,” Soap cut her off. Cat turned to look at him, eyebrows raised. He smiled. “Nothing they haven’t seen already.” When she helped him sit up and lift his gown off, Soap got his first real look at the damage. At Los Vaqueros safe house, and then later at their base, he’d been too rushed and too tired to really look at himself.

Purple bruises so dark they nearly looked black covered his ribs. Just above his boxers, he could see more bruising on his hip that was nearly green now. Scrapes and cuts covered his knees, his arms, his sides. The bullet wound in his right arm was healing nicely, but the skin around it was still pink and tender. He was grateful that his chest was wrapped tightly so he couldn’t see the damage from Ghost’s sniper.

Soap looked away.

“So Cat,” he asked. “How did you meet Laswell?”

“Oh, she and I met probably fifteen years ago. She was still on the field, back then. I was still in training, working in a field hospital. I patched her and John up after a rough mission. I guess she decided she liked me, because as soon as I graduated, she snapped me right up.” She turned to Ghost, who had finally looked her way, and smiled. “Good thing, too. I’ve fixed this one up more times than I can count, and Kate tells me he won’t let anyone else touch him.”

Ghost looked away again so quickly that he missed Soap’s gleeful expression. “Oh, is that so?” teased Soap. Ghost shot him a warning glare. Something to ask about later.

“I trust her,” muttered Ghost.

Cat beamed at him. She looked back to Soap, smiling conspiratorially. “Quite the compliment, eh?”

“That it is,” he answered smugly. Ghost held his stare, unamused. Soap looked back toward Daniela, eyes softening. She smiled back at him, looking tired but content. Cat was wrapping up her check, talking about physical therapy and taking it easy. Soap couldn’t wait to have a moment with Daniela again.

“Alright, well I’ll be back tonight to check in with you again. Simon, would you walk me out?” Soap’s eyes shot back to Ghost at that, but Ghost refused to meet his gaze. Definitely something to ask about later.

When Cat and Ghost had gone, Daniela came back to Soap’s side, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. She gently took his left hand, careful not to lift it or otherwise disturb the bandages.

“Take all the time you need,” Soap said softly. Daniela lifted her eyes from their joined hands, cocking her head. He held her gaze. “You said I’d have to give you some time to figure it out. Take all the time you need.” Now it was Soap’s turn to look down at their hands. He grinned, lopsided. “I’ll be here.”

Daniela reached out, lifting his chin with her fingertips. Her dark eyes watered slightly around the edges. “I’m pretty sure,” she whispered.

“Oh, now that sounds familiar,” chuckled Soap. He leaned toward her, eyes flitting down to her lips. “C’mere, you.”

Their first kiss had been desperate. Their second quickly turned heated. This one was soft, slow, gentle. Exploratory and sweet. Soap stroked her cheek, looking up at her from under hooded eyes. “Tell me you feel it, too,” he whispered.

Daniela nodded, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his. “I feel it.”

“Yeah? Not just ‘maybe’?”

Daniela smiled wide, smacking his shoulder lightly. Soap laughed, loud and full, and immediately regretted it. Wincing, he smiled back at her. 

He was anxious to hear from Price and Gaz, and nervous about what would happen when Alejandro and Rodolfo called Daniela back. They’d have to go after Shepherd, and she might have to go back to Mexico. Maybe nothing would ever truly have a chance to start with them. Maybe they’d die. But maybe not. Maybe everything would be alright.

#john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x oc #modern warfare #cod mwii #call of duty #neil ellice #soap mactavish #ghost riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley #john mactavish #soap #ghost #nightingale writes

[retrobahng]

INTO THE VERSE. (series.)

"HOW? HOW TF I'M SEEING EDITS OF MYSELF ON TIKTOK?!"

summary: sometimes there are some kind of weird coincidences. you were supposed to wake up the next morning and finally have the oddinary album in your hands after all the hard work in that shitty job you were to get the money, oh hell you did really hated that asshole boss of yours. they're some kind of weird coincidences that the first thing when you opened your eyes you found the pretty face of a boy, who kept calling you noona? asking you about a part of some choreography? not even noticing how he was speaking korean and you understood him? haha, what a weird dream.

"JAE-HYUNG, NOONA IS IGNORING ME"

"YAH! (Y/N) WAKE UP, CHAN HAS BEEN CALLING ME BECAUSE YOU DON'T PICK HIS CALLS"

wait, what?

pairings: stray kids x fem!reader. idol!au.

disclaimer: i do not own stray kids in any way but i do own the oc's presented here. the plot line and the ideas are completely mine and i will not allow any type of copy or translation.

cw: angst. fluff. suggestive themes. blood and injuries. use of alcohol. mistreatment. smut mentions of differents idols. sexualization. sasaengs. panic attacks and more

author's note: hi? not me doing this because im bored lol. this random plot came out from my head after watching kingdom for i don't even remember times soooo here im. ty for entering and give in it a chance, ily already for that. likes and reblogs are highly appreciated <3 ( TAGLIST )

"DAMN, I KNEW I WAS HOT, BUT NOT THAT HOT HOT"

O. TEASER

echo

i. n/a

ii. n/a

iii. n/a

iv. n/a

v. n/a

to add more...

#stray kids x reader #chan x reader #bang chan x reader #lee minho x reader #lee know x reader #seo changbin x reader #changbin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #jisung x reader #lee felix x reader #felix x reader #kim seungmin x reader #seungmin x reader #yang jeongin x reader #jeongin x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #ot8 x reader #idol au #★ into the verse — stray kids fic

[w98pops]

YAAAY a new fallout oc who's conveniently a brother of my other fallout oc (wendy). some might remember the old family tree i made for her ITS NOT CANON NOW. i have the new one under the cut. and a bunch of silly drawings (mostly sharky because its his post)

about the gators (strip gang sharky is the leader of): they are the branch of the chairmen. by the year of 2301 new vegas seriously expanded, strip families kinda fell out and created a bunch of new strip families. the smaller families are called gangs, and they're pretty much their own thing, except they're under the big families' authority (gators are chairmen's, for example)

AND THE THING ABOUT FREESIDE wendy accidentally killed house (pulled the wrong lever and shut down his life support, something humorous like that) and replaced him with yes man. she made some stupid decisions and actually opened strip, which caused a lot of problems (some family wars, the reason they all fell off, some murders, stuff like that) but hey!! now the strip has a clinic run by followers :) and emily ortal works at the lucky 38 as a main (and only) technician. main resourse of money is still casinos, but there's a lot of auctions and markets happening, which keep the money flow. OKAY, THE DRAWINGS

sharky as a child :) he was non-verbal and wild

a new very nice family tree :) i originally made it for myself (im obsessed with doing family trees and very bad at remembering dates and names I created) but i think it looks super fun so here it is

the first ever sharky drawing from centuries ago. he is trans if it wasn't very clear 😭

and here's from when i was "researching" his character. flip-flops and jean shorts clearly didn't work out

#fallout #fallout new vegas #fnv #courier six #oc: wendy #oc: aletus #oc: sharky #oc: sarah

[icey--stars]

Stories To Be Told: PART 29

Series Index

A shadowsinger, a warrior, an Illyrian, that's what she was. Trained by one of the most formidable female warriors. Escaped the Illyrian camps and her clipping when she was barely sixteen and is now the holder of 6 siphons. What happens when she tries to sneak into the City of Starlight? And starts down a whole new road of chaos?

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

a/n: warning for like… extremely fluffy things. is that a warning? idk. but like… the author, me, squealed while writing this part. this was combined with the epilogue i planned since it was too short. so that huge time skip? yeah.

BUT, since this is the last chapter… I want to thank everyone who came around while writing this series. Thank you all for your support, whether you were commenting, reblogging or just liking- it means a ton. This story wasn’t originally going to be posted online. It was a rewrite based off of a 115k word fic I wrote. well… not really. That one had extreme inconsistencies, and very limited character development. It was set post-acomaf, where all canon plot ended basically. I much prefer this post-acosf version. 

I'm always very nervous posting online, so getting all the support I got for stbt? It means the world to me. I can’t express how much all the support just made my day. Thank you readers, from the bottom of my heart.

After this, I’ll try to work on either a new series, or some oneshots, but I beg of you, please send requests. I am incapable of coming up with ideas to post 😂 (okay, im not, but it helps)

If you have read all that, here’s a little vote for a new series: Azris fic (or another rare pair/crackship)? or new x Reader/OC fic (probably eris)? Something else? Not guaranteeing I’ll write any of them, but just to gauge what ya’ll might like to see

Now… onto the last chapter of Stories To Be Told :)

WARNING: mentions of nsfw things.

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

Azriel and I didn’t come to training the day after either, both of us waking up way too late to even dare try and go. They’d probably be doing the final stretching before we’d even be ready. So we settled for a slow morning, memorizing each other’s lips.

We had, however, arrived for lunch. Nobody had said anything, but I could tell what they were all thinking. We had taken a bath before we left the room, but I knew that the bond could probably be scented quite easily now.

That afternoon, Azriel had to do some paperwork, but I relaxed with him, reading a book, surrounded by his scent. A note arrived sometime.

Family dinner tonight at the River House. See you both there.

Azriel scoffed. I lifted a brow at him in question. “Rhys,” he explained, “wants us to attend a family dinner. Clearly, Cassian told him something, because he said ‘See you both there’ like he knows.”

I chuckled a little. “Does he need to pay for traumatizing you too, my love?”

“By the Cauldron, yes. Him and Feyre, I swear. I have just been suffering. The only thing that did go right was that Cassian was the one brawling with Rhys after their bond. I was saved from some bruises.”

“Oh,” I paused. “I forgot about that part. And they what?!”

“Which part?”

“The part about bonds where the males get really… protective.”

Azriel snorted. “I’ll try my best at this dinner, angel, but do offer me some leniency.”

“As long as you offer me the same leniency, because I am one hundred percent laughing my ass off if you growl at Rhys."

He rolled his eyes. “I won’t growl at him-”

-----

Azriel growled deeply as we walked into the dining room. Rhys’s eyes had been up and looking for us, latching onto me, since I’d been the first to enter.

I snorted, and patted Azriel’s shoulder.

Rhys tipped his head back and laughed. “Alright, Cass, you win,” he chuckled. “You were right about Az being a possessive type.” A gold mark was thrown in the direction of the general, who quickly pocketed it.

I huffed out a breath in amusement and spotted Mor looking quite confused. Oh, this was my chance!

I left Azriel’s side, even as he glared daggers at Cassian, who was sitting near Mor. Mor’s eyes did indeed practically pop out of her skull when I came near enough.

“YOU’RE MATES?!” She squealed.

My face widened into a grin and I nodded.

She let out another happy squealing noise, throwing her arms around me. Azriel growled again and I laughed, backing up a step so that Mor was forced to let me go. She was smiling at me. “Oh! I’m so happy for you!” She squealed again suddenly, startling me slightly. “Welcome to the family!” She said quickly. “I was first!”

I turned my face again slightly in a useless effort to hide my huge smile from those words. Azriel curled a hand around my waist. “This is your family now,” he whispered.

I lifted a hand to rub my smile away, but it didn’t work. So I turned to behold my new family.

Rhys was grinning, with Feyre looking at me warmly. Nyx was obviously happy. “Does that mean I have a new aunt?” He asked Rhys.

“I suppose so,” Rhys chuckled. “But ask Y/N.”

I bit my lip. There was so much joy coming from me right now. Nyx turned to me expectantly.

“If you want me to be…” I replied. “You can call me aunt.”

“Yes!” Nyx threw up a fist in victory. “Auntie Y/N! Now you have to help me steal all the chocolate dad hides in the pantry.”

I snorted in amusement, giggling softly. “Alright Nyx.”

“Don’t conspire in front of me!” Rhys exclaimed.

“Did we just conspire?” I asked Nyx. He shook his head, smiling wide. “See Rhys?” I turned to face the High Lord. “We didn’t conspire anything. You must be hearing things.”

“Welcome to the family,” Cassian hummed, arm thrown over Nesta’s shoulder who sat beside him. “I would come over there and bowl you to the ground in a hug, but you have a possessive shadow death monster attached to you.”

That broke the last of the restraint I had on my laughter. I wheezed loudly, knees going weak from the force of it. My chest heaved as I tried to catch my breath, but almost everyone had joined in. Even Az. Nesta stood and came over. Azriel almost growled a warning, but I slapped his shoulder, stepping out from his grip to hug my sister. My first family here.

There weren’t any words shared between us, but as Nes pulled away, she gave me a soft look that said everything.

Amren gave me a little dip of her head, and I deduced that was likely all I was going to get from her. Lucien and Elain, two people who’d I mostly forgotten about, also gave me slight smiles. They seemed… close, but also not as close as any of the mated couples in the room.

I sat beside Azriel at the table, and ate with my new family.

-----

Later in the night, when mostly everyone had gone home, Azriel asked me the question.

“I know I’m traditionally meant to kneel down before you,” he began. “But I haven’t had the chance to buy a ring yet, so I’ll do that a bit later since I’m impatient. Would you marry me Y/N?”

I squealed immediately, turning so that I was sitting in his lap and wrapping my arms around his neck. “Yes!” I said loudly, drawing the attention of the remaining people in the room. Rhys, Feyre, Nyx, Cassian, and Nesta.

I kissed him swiftly, which probably gave the others enough of a guess of what had just transpired.

“We are having a wedding,” I told him. “Family only.”

Azriel grinned. “Whatever you want, angel.”

“AUNTIE Y/N!” Nyx exclaimed loudly, like it was a celebration.

I turned, grinning widely. “Officially,” I agreed.

Rhys smiled, his teeth showing. “Congratulations,” he said.

Feyre scoffed. “You’re so dull Rhys,” she admonished, bursting from her seat to wrap me in a hug. “Congratulations. Welcome to the family.”

“I was just trying not to get attacked!” Rhys protested. “Azzie is terrifying.”

I huffed in amusement. “Azzie?” I questioned, turning back to my mate with a smirk.

He snorted. “You are not calling me that,” he chuckled. “Rhys gets to do it only once a month.”

“Azzie…” I cooed, and paired the nickname with a scratch at his scalp. He seemed to be placated, but glared up at me petulantly.

“I’m getting bowled over,” someone said from behind me, and then wrapped two large muscled arms around my shoulders, lifting me up. I squealed at the movement, crushing my wings to my back. Cassian laughed as Azriel got to his feet immediately, eyes darting around like he was trying to deduce the easiest way to free me from Cassian, without hurting me.

I slapped Cassian’s arm. “You idiot!” I yelled happily as he only tightened his grip. “I yield!” I shouted. “I yield!”

Cassian squeezed even tighter for a moment before he let me down. I turned to him with a challenging grin.

“I have another sister,” he reasoned. “I had to make sure she knows I give good hugs.”

“You call that a hug?” I scoffed, grinning. “I prefer Az’s.”

There was a sound behind me that told me Az agreed with me. He took his seat again, the couch dipping.

“Well then,” Cassian said, voice challenging. “I guess I have to try again. Because I always give the best hugs-”

I dodged his next attempt, shooting out my foot as he took a step forward so that he tripped right onto the couch, face planting almost directly into Azriel’s lap. I was surprised when I felt a surge of possessiveness from myself at the sight of Cassian so close to my mate’s lap.

Cassian was laughing and sputtering as he stood back up. “I’m making you pay for that in training,” he growled.

Those words made a bolt of heat travel up my spine. Goddamn, had Azriel really ruined those words for me? Must have.

I tried to keep my scent in check as I coughed. “Sure you will,” I challenged. “I’ll win.”

“You can try,” Cassian scoffed. “I always win.”

“I’ll win because Nesta is on my side,” I chuckled, meeting Cassian’s mate’s eyes across the room, still sitting on the couch with a twinkle of amusement in her eyes.

Cassian turned with a look of betrayal on his face. “How dare you!” He accused dramatically.

I chuckled, and fell back onto the couch beside Azriel. “Love you,” I chuckled, kissing him gently.

His hand fell onto my thigh, just a little too high to be normal. “I felt that through the bond, you know,” he informed me as I pulled away.

I blushed. “Shut up,” I growled. “Or I’ll show them where you’re ticklish.”

He paused, narrowing his eyes. “You wouldn’t dare,” he said playfully.

“Oh I will,” I said.

Azriel trailed his hand up threateningly, and I basically leapt up on top of him, and went for the ticklish spot in his armpit. He wheezed, capturing the attention of everyone.

“That’s where you’re ticklish!?” Cassian exclaimed. “Damn it. I’m exploiting that.”

I grinned as Azriel’s eyes widened even as he struggled to get my hands away from his ticklish spot. “I’ll kill you,” Azriel managed through his laughter.

“Not intimidating,” Cassian chuckled. “You’ve used the line too much.”

I relented after a moment. Azriel heaved for breath, glaring at me. He leaned up to whisper in my ears.

“You’ll pay for that.”

I grinned. I planned on it.

-----

It was the Winter Solstice, and goddamn was it cold outside. I heard a shout as Rhys assumingly got pummeled by snowballs by Cassian. No surprise there. Cassian apparently had been “training” for the annual snowball fight my mate and his brother’s had every year. As I gathered up my own snowballs to launch my attack on Cassian, I smirked in the direction of Azriel’s snow fort.

We weren’t explicitly teaming per say, but we were acting as tentative allies. That little peace treaty would break as soon as Cassian began to complain about his toes freezing off.

Az had mentioned this tradition about a month ago, explaining Cassian’s training, and Rhys’s determination to beat him. Apparently, my mate was by far the most competitive for the fight. He’d won basically every fight leading up to this one. Rhys and Cass had quite a few wins, but Azriel? Azriel definitely had the most.

I offhandedly mentioned that if I were a part of the snowball fight, I’d go straight for Rhys’s face and then pummel Cassian. Then deal with Az.

Azriel, apparently, having taken that internally, offered to let me join. His brother’s mates hadn’t been interested in being out in the cold for hours, but me? Oh I was so for it. No magic. No wings. Just an even playing ground for the Illyrian idiots who just wanted to pummel each other with snowballs.

Rhys immediately let me in on it, even trying to covet an alliance with me throughout the month, but little did he know that Azriel would be getting my “support” through the game. He’d gasped dramatically when I told him I was betraying him right after he’d told me all the strategies he planned to use. Oh, it was so worth it. Now I knew the High Lord was worried, and preparing for that strike that would end him, coming from me.

Cassian shouted as the snowballs hit him from behind his fort. “Y/N!” He shouted angrily. But a playful angry. “I’m going to get you for that!”

“Just try!” I challenged.

For another three hours, we fought. When it was basically just Azriel and I, I turned on him immediately, gaining the element of surprise as I came up behind him and stuffed a whole pile of snowballs right down the back of his leathers.

He screeched and tried to shimmy them out.

“Betrayer!” He shouted, apparently giving up on getting the snow out, and intent on getting revenge. He picked up a pre-made snowball, but I merely smirked and produced one last snowball in my hand, and threw it directly into his forehead.

Azriel groaned, wiping his face. “I’m fucking freezing,” he admitted.

“Do you yield?” I asked him, and subtly packed another pile of snow together with my boots to easily form into a snowball and throw it at him if he didn’t.

“Fine, yes,” he groaned. I grinned.

“RHYS! CASS!” I called. “YIELD OR DIE UNDER THE POWER OF Y/N!”

“I yield!” Cassian yelled back. “My ass is numb.” The second part was quieter, but just loud enough to be heard.

“Never!” Rhys shouted.

I stole some of my mate's snowballs, holding them with one arm and leaped over the fort, running across No Man’s Land. Then I leaped straight into Rhys’s fort and pummeled him with the snow.

He screamed dramatically. I smirked, and then gathered more ammo, and stuffed it down his neck as he tried to clear his vision. “I yield!” he shouted. “Fucking hell! No! Don’t stuff it down my shirt even more-”

I chuckled, and then with one final push of the snow down his shirt, I stood and vaulted over the fort again, hands raised in victory.

“FIRST WIN!” I shouted, laughing hysterically after.

Cassian came out of his fort, shivering. Azriel was still struggling with the snow down his shirt. Rhys basically dragged himself out of his fort.

“Too cold,” Cassian said, “to care.”

I rolled my eyes, scoffing. “Come on then idiot. Your mate can console you for your horrible loss.”

“This is horrible!” Cassian complained.

“Let’s go to the damn birchin before my toes decide to fall off,” Rhys said, shivering as well.

We’d decided before that they’d not go in completely naked, despite tradition. Azriel was way too possessive for that. They’d keep their undershorts and I’d keep on my undergarments.

“Who won?” Nesta asked as we came inside. Her stomach was just slightly starting to get that little bump that told everyone she was having a child. I silently hoped for a little girl.

“I did!” I announced triumphantly. “These males stood no chance.”

Feyre snorted in amusement. Gwyn clasped me on my back. “Better you than them,” she joked. Emerie, who was beside Mor, called out a congratulations.

“You guys should compete next year,” I suggested. “We’d be the height of competition.”

“Freezing in the cold for hours?” Emerie asked. “No thank you. Not even on a good day.”

“Boring,” I teased. “Is Mor making you soft dear sister?”

“Shall I slap her?” Mor asked.

“No, I’ll make her pay for it in training,” Emerie chuckled.

“Just try me,” I challenged. “Just try.”

“Oh I will,” Emerie chuckled. “Now go sweat with the other idiots.”

Azriel chuckled, putting a hand around my waist and leading me in the direction of the birchin. “Come on love, I’m freezing still.”

“Fine…” I would be merciful… today. I pecked Azriel on his cheek gently. “Only for you.”

“Oh yes,” he chuckled. “So merciful towards your mate.”

I scoffed, smiling. “Love you.”

He smiled, and said that little phrase that always left me breathless from the sheer love.

“It’ll always be you.”

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

TAGLIST (see post for getting added)

@mis-lil-red, @bunnymallowo, @judig92, @biblophilefox82, @azzydaddy, @thegirlintheshadows101, @whatupmydudes01, @feyres-fireheart, @elizarikaallen, @xenlynn, @panzees-bizarre-adventures, @starswholistenanddreamsanswered, @baebeepeach, @nyctophiliiiiaaa, @brekkershadowsinger, @officiallyunofficialperson, @bookslut420, @margssstuff, @bluephoenix908, @goldentournesol, @rebloggiest-reblogger, @inpraizeof, @ladylokilaufeyson5, @graciereads, @chanaaaannel, @towhateverend13, @eos-princess, @marina468,

Make sure to ask if you'd like to be tagged in more of my writing! This taglist is soon to be deleted :)

#azriel #azrielxreader #azriel x reader #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #emerie #rhysand #feyre #morrigan #cassian #nesta #snowball fight #acotar fluff #fluff #mywriting

[spnfanficpond]

New Member Spotlight - April 2024

The Pond is always growing and we want to make our new members feel welcome! Here’s a list of recent additions to our fishy family, along with a little info about them!

Guppies, Jellies, and Mutuals, oh, my!

@elf-punk -

Other SM names? - Discord: crumblemoon, AO3: queen_karnilla

OTP? - Destiel all the way

Other fandoms? - Doctor who, Dune, Harry Potter, Marvel (Loki specifically), Sandman

Looking for in the Pond? - Mainly to meet and hang out with other SPN fans, and share/read fanfic and headcanons! Nothing super specific.

Pairings you read? - Reader inserts/OC mainly involving spn angels (michael and cas are my favourites!)

Genres you read? - Romance, friends/enemies to lovers, angst with a resolution, all things fluffy! Will read smut as part of a longer romantic narrative, but not for the sake of it.

What do you like to write? - Reader-inserts/OC, introspectives and character studies

Masterlist!

@jinkieswouldyoulookatthis -

Other SM names? - Discord: jackiefour, AO3: jinkieswouldyoulookatthis

OTP? - Wincest (Sam/Dean)

Looking for in the Pond? - Just looking to strengthen ties with the general fandom community and it's always nice to have other writers/readers to talk with.

Pairings you read? - SamDean in all its variations, either of the brothers/reader together or separate is good too.

Genres you read? - Angst, smut, crackfics are my preferred, although some fluff is nice and appreciated too. The trope doesn't matter as much to me as the overall quality of the writing.

Favorite writer(s)? - Gah, too many amazing writers to narrow it down to a favorite, but @applecrumbledore, @dyed-red, leonidaslion, candle_beck, deadlybride immediately spring to mind.

What do you like to write? - Currently been writing wincest (SamDean) but I used to write reader inserts for both of the boys.

Masterlist!

Most underappreciated fic? - Probably this one because it's a body swap/gender bend with low key non-con elements to it (so I get why it doesn't get as much love as some of the others): Make A Wish

Something you haven't written but would like to try? Why not? How can we help? -I am currently working on my first long fic, just getting going on it and am a little intimidated by the scope, but I don't deal with deadlines or anything like that well, so I'm hoping that just being around other people writing and talking about writing will help keep me motivated to finish it. Basically, I'm just looking for passive motivation and community.

@i-already-know-im-going-2-hell / @aceing-on-the-cake -

Other SM names? - AO3: i_already_know_im_going_to_hell

OTP? - Honestly I think Wincestiel can't be beat when it's done well, best of both worlds

Other fandoms? - I enjoy a lot of fandoms but to be honest I'm really only making content (writing and drawing) for supernatural.

Looking for in the Pond? - Honestly I'm just looking to hang around, meet fellow writers and artists, and pick up tips and tricks along the way. I find I'm motivated so much more when I have others around me who are just as into the things I'm into.

Something to signal boost? - Honestly the only thing I'm currently working on bigger project wise is a supernatural au I'm doing a lot of drawings for. This is the original post --Guineanatural-- and it has all the links in it towards currently running polls or completed artworks.

Pairings you read? - I'm a multishipper, I will read almost any pairing that's not parent/child honestly.

Genres you read? - Angst and Hurt/Comfort are my jam. Smut, fluff and crack are great if they're included, but I'm truly there for pain of angst and then the comfort that comes after.

Favorite writer(s)? - @applecrumbledore on AO3, is the author of one of my all-time favorite Dean/Sam fics I've ever read, Acid

What do you like to write? - Angst/Comfort with a whole lot of character analysis thrown in

Something you haven't written but would like to try? Why not? How can we help? - Unfortunately, my bane in life is to house more fic ideas in my head than I actually ever have a reasonable amount of time to write and to have crippling adhd caused executive dysfunction, which can truly only be fixed by Earth changing to a day cycle longer than 24 hours and absolutely using body doubles in any form I can take those. The first problem truly can't be fixed by mortal men unfortunately, but for the second honestly me just hanging around with other writers or seeing other writers work on things too helps to work as a body double for my brain a lot of the time. So honestly, just hanging in the server itself and following the tumblr should be plenty of help.

That's all for this month, folks! (If we're missing anyone, let us know and we'll add them to next month's list!) Make sure to say hi to the newbies and make them feel welcome! Thanks to all from @manawhaat, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @mariekoukie6661, @thoughtslikeaminefield, and @heavenssexiestangel!

#welcome #new member post #pond admin #spnwin #supernatural #the winchesters #long post #fan fiction #fanfiction #fan fic #fanfic #spn fan fiction #spn fanfiction #spn fan fic #spn fanfic #supernatural fan fiction #supernatural fan fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #spn prequel #pond events

[hylianengineer]

im sososo normal about your OC i am not scratching at the walls of my enclosure because i ran out of Owen&Cate fics to read. haha.

perhaps.... you would consider... posting more??? 👀

haha just kidding... unless?

(only if you want to!!! not trying to pressure you at all!!! i just. i know you already have more written so if you're waiting for someone to tell you how much they love them and encourage you to post more. this is that. huge cate and owen fan over here!!)

This is the best possible ask any writer could ever recieve and I am SO HAPPY that my bizarre little characters have resonated with you! The fact that someone besides me cares about a person I made up is so so weird and awesome!

I promise I will post more fic for you as soon as Real Life calms down and I have time for such things, hopefully tomorrow. Although I should probably warn you, a lot of what I have written about these two is not as fluffy as what's been posted so far - I do write dark stuff sometimes, but it will all be tagged accordingly of course.

To tide your over, a hint of what's to come: I have an entire AU whose premise is these characters meeting much sooner in their lives, as university students, and proceeding to become found family about it. Torchwood comes into the picture eventually, and so does Katie Russel - who also joins the found family and doesn't die like in canon (or at all. I hate killing characters and I'm too fond of her now). It's a weird polycule thing in which Owen and Katie are romantically in love and then everyone else is platonically/queerplatonically in a relationship with each other. It's kinda messy timeline wise but frankly I'm about to say fuck timelines and post chunks of it anyways.

Yes I did in fact get myself into a situation where there are two main characters named Cate and Katie, yes I regret this, but no there is nothing I can do about it now. It was very unintentional, as I never intended to write about Katie Russel - she just waltzed into my story and decided to stay. And the OC's name could not be changed at that point - it had stuck. Hopefully this does not come across as too weird/implausible/annoying, because it's out of my control.

Yes I know I'm the author and allegedly like god to my characters but look, sometimes they just do stuff and I have to write it down and yell things like "hey! You broke my plot!" while frantically restructuring the entire story around their shenanigans.

#thaaaaank youuuuuu this makes me so happy! #this is the best possible comment an author could ever receive #hylian rambles #hylian writes fanfic #more fic soon for you my most beloved reader! #i'm also regularly chewing cardboard about these two but it's so wild to have another person also doing it!

[precious-little-scoundrel]

What got you into writing/how long have you been writing?

What’s your writing inspiration?

Do you write in silence or need background sounds? Like music?

Do you struggle more with dialogue or detail?

Any tips for someone who wants to write fanfiction?

How do you differ all your OC’s so you don’t rewrite the same characters over and over?

Do you do research?

— from someone who would love to write their own stories lol but yours are great!

My darling. So many apologies for how tardy I’ve been in replying to this, I really wanted to give it due thought because I’m quite touched you’d even ask.

1: I’ve been writing since I was little, my mama was always reading me classics and my greatest ambition was to be some kind of author every bit as colorful as their characters, a la Oscar Wilde. 🥳

2. Writing inspiration? Oh that’s a hard one only in that I could cite a million things and chat your poor ear off, but to be boring and also frank -I just love stories. I think they’re so inspiring and healing and necessary for making sense of things, or else resigning to things that can’t be explained. I love to study love and how very human and fallible and also indestructible it is in its many forms. I love to dig through tragedy and find the refining purpose of it, I love to take characters through hells I’ve been through so that I can imagine their triumphs, too, and my own through them. If this can happen to -name your hero- then I’m no smaller for it happening to me, if -name your hero- can get through it and be loved and admired by a whole fandom? -I deserve the same commendation from myself at the very least. Stories are essential and fun and I never ever imagined I’d have a little group one day liking my own where we could all scream about these things together. I’m legit so humbled each time I log on here and find y’all ready and waiting and interactive. The community of it, that’s the biggest drive right now, tbh. What a sweet season.

3. I usually write in silence, or else at any chance where I have a moment, so that could be public transport or lunch breaks or in the loo during family holidays, ha. However I do find music to be an inspiring mood setter for writing later that day. Especially as i juggle many ongoing projects at once, the genre im listening to before may very well influence what gets worked on.

4. Detail!! Dialogue can be challenging but I hear it so clearly in my head most of the time that it’s not hard. Details can devastate me.

5. Ooof, I still feel like I’m a baby at it, this is only my second fandom to dare for. I’d say for sure write what you find inspiring instead of what appears to be wanted, i firmly believe that’s the only sure way to keep up any inspiration and the niche will draw its own crowd, one’s who will like it all the better for its specially crafted world. Also, for dialogue -replay and replay dialogue from the character before you write. Are they terse or do they ramble? Are they sarcastic or earnest? Do they have a word they repeat often? -I noticed the other day how Rosenthal uses “you know?” often in the show. Also, sometimes switch up sentence structure from character to character, it helps feel like hopping brains without a fully jarring POV change. All these are things I’m currently working at myself, but that’s the best I’ve got for advice.

6. Oh boy I’m still figuring this out myself. Three things come to mind as little helps I use- first off, read real biographies, it helps tremendously with crafting fully dimensional fictional people. Two -have a maturing arc for your OC during the story, separate from whatever adventure or romance that occurs, this will make it feel less like a inserted person into the broader story. Three, choose a personality type or something similar to both keep them separate from the next but also to ensure their virtues have corresponding vices.

7. I do research a lot. But I find that it’s a fine line for myself of when that drains all creativity or bravery. Im massively indebted to so many mutuals who generously share their own with me.

#best of wishes to you Nonnie! dare bravely!! #writing woes #about the author 💋